Collateral Damage

I wanted to go home already and we had only been there for less than an hour and a half. Normally I was all gun-ho for a party, seeing as it was what my life consisted of now. Friday night football games and parties, with good grades and a shining attitude sprinkled here and there. Gracie was close at my side, both of us sipping on a red solo cup, filled only half way with beer. I didn't drink heavily often. Don't get me wrong, it happened. Boy did it happen, I mean, there had been nights where I completely blacked out to what I was doing. Dalton stood a few feet away, laughing with his team mates and glanced back at me for a second. His cheeks were flushed, thanks to the alcohol, and his eyes wide with excitement. One baby blue eye scrunched up in a wink and I rolled my eyes playfully but soon returned the gesture.

Gracie nudged me and cocked her head in the opposite direction and I followed her gaze to see Mikey and Calum sitting on the ground with a few friends of theirs, all drinking and just having a good time. It was the ridge though, that's what they did. It was the one place in our shitty town where everyone could just come and get along. Well, at least that's what it was supposed to stand for. I smiled and furrowed my eyebrow, as if to ask what was wrong with it. "Thomas looks pissed," she noted and I looked back at the dark haired running back. Pissed would be an understatement though. He was practically frothing at the mouth, fueled on the multiple shots of vodka he had consumed.

He soon started his pursuit towards my brother's best friends and I quickly scrambled off the hood of the truck, hopefully to cut him off from the smaller group. "Hey, you Blink wannabes." Seriously, that was the best he had? I snorted, Gracie shaking her head with a knowing smile. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?" Calum and Michael both stood up, hands in their pockets.

"It's the ridge man, relax. Everyone comes out here," Calum shrugged and Gracie's hand soon found the small of my back, pushing me along faster.

"Well not anymore, bitch," Thomas sneered and Michael took his hands from his jean pockets, hands balled into fists.

"It's a free country, Hewitt," Michael glowered, feeling a little more ballsy with a few ounces of alcohol in his system. In two steps Thomas had his shirt grasped between his fingers, pulling the thinner boy towards him. I neared them and glanced at Dalton, who just stood there with a half-smirk on his face. He knew these were my brother's friends yet did nothing to stop it. Anger welled in me and I put my hands on Thomas' arm, shoving him away from Michael roughly.

"What the hell Charlotte?!" He practically screamed before he bowed up again and I resisted the urge to flinch away, now between him and Michael.

"Leave it alone, Thomas," I growled, glaring at him, over at Dalton, then back at him. "This kind of shit doesn't happen on the ridge, you know that. That's how it is. At school and back in town, you can do what you want and try to get away with it, but not here."

"Not anymore, Charlie." I resisted the urge to slap my hand across his smug smirk when I noted the tone of his voice.

"Says who, Hewie?" If he wanted to be oh-so-condescending and look down on me, when he had no place to do so, I could do the same. It felt good, honestly. It felt good to finally stand up for someone in the face of one of my 'best' friends. A scoff left his lips and he crossed his arms. "Says you? Last time I checked, you're the only one fired up about this." My attention turned to the guys behind him. "Do you all have a problem with them being here?" They shook their heads and smiled at me sweetly. Idiots, the lot of them. "Leave. It. Alone." Thomas turned his back, stopping to whisper something to Dalton, and drunken laugh left my boyfriend's lips.

"Thanks Lo-" I held up my hand to Calum and Michael, a sign for them to stop what they were saying, shot them a glare and walked back to Dalton's truck with Gracie at my side. They weren't without fault of what happened. Michael shouldn't have opened his mouth, but he did. Idiots.

After a short ten minutes, I decided it was time to go home. I made sure Dalton had a ride home and wiggled his keys free from this jacket pocket. Gracie sighed and kept her gaze on her phone, fingers flying across the screen. Finally, I questioned who she was texting. "Ah- um, no one?" The question hung in the air and I cocked an eyebrow. "Your brother..."

"You're texting Luke?" She nodded and I took in a breath of air.

"I just wanted to tell him what happened. He's at your house with Ash- I mean Ashton." I nodded tightly, eyes still on the road. I hated driving Dalton's truck. It was too big for me and I always felt like I was going to run a small child over and not realize it.

The fact that Ashton was at my house made my mood even shittier. He never even looked at me unless it was to be a dick, or make a snide comment about how Dalton would 'enjoy my company' in what I was wearing. I normally took it as him saying I looked good and would thank him. It was his fault though, that our friendship had turned to shit, and he just didn't want to accept it. It takes two, my mother would say whenever Ashton would be at the house, in the same room and we wouldn't speak. I didn't see how I was at fault in something that was entirely his doing. My grip on the steering wheel tightened, the skin on my knuckles taut.

I had met Ashton in seventh grade, before he and Luke really got close. As a matter of fact, he used to get annoyed with my brother, Mikey and Calum because they used to suck as musicians. He always spoke so haughtily of himself, that he knew how to play the guitar and the piano and the drums and that if they gave him two weeks and an instrument, he'd have that one down pat as well. By the end of eighth grade, though, we were all inseparable, Gracie included.

On this particular day, a few days after we 'graduated' from middle school, we had been laying on the couch, just Ashton and I, with my legs across his thighs. We hadn't felt like going to the arcade with everyone else so we stayed at my house. I had been glad for that, since I had really wanted to talk to Ashton by ourselves. His hand was on my leg, fingers drumming a beat, and he looked at his phone with the other. I caught my lip in between my teeth, not able to concentrate on the television screen.

"Ash..." His eyes turned to me, a genuine smile on his face.

"Yeah, Lottie?"

"What are we?" His smile fell, replaced by an expression of confusion. "I mean... going into high school, it's a big transition... and, uh, I don't know... We kiss sometimes and hold hands and I really li-"

"Lottie..." I knew that tone. It was the same tone he used with his younger brother and sister when he was trying to explain to them why they couldn't do something. It was so... patronizing for someone my age to talk to me like that. Especially Ashton. "I like you, but not like that..." I sat up slowly, confused. "I like you like you like Mikey or Calum... or Luke."

"I don't kiss Luke," I spat.

"I know, and that was a mistake, but we had both said that that had only been practice." My chest was tight, eyes threatening to tear up. A mistake, it was a mistake.

"Why though... What's wrong with me?"

"You're you, Lottie!" He was suddenly standing. "You're Charlotte Hemmings and I'm Ashton Irwin and before you ask what that has to do with anything, you know exactly what it has to do with. I've worked so hard to get these people, our classmates, to like me and you just don't care. You'd go to school in sweatpants and a knot in your hair if you wanted, without caring what anyone has to say." I didn't care? I only wore sweatpants because my jeans had began to get too tight as I slowly gained weight. I didn't bother with obsessing over my appearance because no matter how much I tried to fix, I'd still be a joke to the people in our classes. He knew that but he didn't want to say it directly, I was sure of it.

"I'm Ashton Irwin and you're Lottie the Lard," is what he was trying to say. I knew it. I could feel that that's what he wanted to really say. I had never thought he'd become one of my tormentors, and although he didn't directly say it, it hurt the most.

"You'll find someone, but not me. You're my best friend, but that's all. I'm sorry... Besides... I just asked Anna out yesterday." Anna? It had to be Anna Locks. She was tiny, short and petite like I wanted to be. She had smooth skin and these big brown doe-eyes. Not to mention hair that she curled every morning before school. Of course, Ashton would choose Anna. She was the exact opposite of me, everything I wasn't. I just shook my head, clenched fists and tears pooling in my blue eyes. There would always be someone better than me, no matter how hard I worked. At least, that was what I had thought for the last three years.

"Not anymore," the words flowed so easily I met Ashton's gaze with a surge of confidence.

"What?"

"Get out of my house, Ashton Irwin," I sneered at the full name and stood up, still shorter than him at his prepubescent height. I jabbed a hand into his chest, pushing him towards the door. He quickly exited, the door slammed behind him, and I let the flood gates open as I slid down to the hardwood floor.

"Charlie!" Gracie's voice broke my memory and I met her gaze, almost wildly. Her hand was on my arm and I furrowed my eyebrow before I realized we were back at my house. "You okay?" I just nodded and took a shaky breath. I hated feeling like this sometimes, it was absolutely awful. "I'm still staying the night, yeah?" Again I nodded. Gracie didn't have to ask, she knew this, but sill did anyway. I felt like it was more of her trying to get on my nerves if anything. I still loved her like my sister though. Growing up in a house with three older brothers, Gracie had been a gift from God, I swear. My mind drifted, momentarily, and I thought about Anna Locks. She was in our grade, always wore her painting smock, these bottle cap glasses and constantly had her hair in a bun. I inwardly snorted and rolled my eyes. Take that, Irwin.

Mom and Dad's cars were home but his Harley was gone and I smiled with a shake of my head. "Those darned kids," I joked and Gracie soon caught on before laughing along. The car Luke and I shared was parked under the oak tree, its usual spot, and Ashton's car was parked along side it. I let out a sigh and shook my head now that there was proof that Ashton was there. Despite our friendship falling apart three years ago, he was still important to me and I'd never want him to be hurt intentionally. We're not counting the one time in ninth grade when I tripped him down the hall because, hey, it was a dare.

After I laid my jacket over the back of the papasan chair in the livingroom, I turned to Gracie. Wait... where was Gracie? I groaned when I noticed the light from the kitchen and stomped in to take the scene in front of me in slowly. Gracie was giggling at something my brother had said and he and Ashton were sitting at the bar, both cheekily smiling at my best friend. His hazel eyes turned to me and I let my face turn hard before I pulled a bottle of apple juice from the fridge. I was feeling uncomfortable under his gaze and my eyes were soon searching for the calories listed for the apple juice. Oh god... I wanted water anyway. I opened the water bottle cap, pressing it to my lips. His eyes narrowed and I gave him a glare back.

"Charlie," Gracie pried for my attention for the second time and I looked at her. "Did you hear me?" Yes, because I answered you so eloquently. God, sarcasm is so much more fun when you actually say it aloud. I shook my head no and apologized. "I asked if you wanted to go down to the basement and watch movies." I shrugged my indifference. Honestly, I didn't have the energy to care. "Are you hungry?" She was too concerned right now, especially in front of Luke and Ashton. "You barely ate dinner," her voice was lower, almost a whisper and I shot her a glare.

"I'm fine." Gracie recoiled, as if she was slapped, and scowled at me. Shit. After another sigh, I apologized again and it was her turn to shrug. It was a normal occurrence, though I wish it wasn't. I just hated being questioned about my eating habits. It was no one's business except mine as far as how much I was eating. I was losing weight and I looked good and that was all that mattered.

"So..." Luke's big blue eyes turned to Gracie and I watched a flush crawl up her neck. I turned and stomped down to the basement where the lights turned on thanks to a hard slam of my hand. When I said I wanted to watch movies I had meant with Dalton, not my brother and my first rejection. This is why I was always so desperate to avoid them. "Thanks sis, by the way, for Mikey and Cal," I murmured a 'yeah' and plopped down on the far side of the corner couch. Rather than sitting beside me, Gracie sat beside Luke and left the last spot, right beside me, for Ashton. At least we weren't touching. I shifted uncomfortably and leaned away, legs to chest, as Luke and Gracie decided on a movie.

"Have fun tonight?" There it was. That patronizing tone, like he was better than me. I glanced up, ready to glare, but his eyes were soft for once. I just shrugged again. Oh, Lottie, you're so well-spoken. So literate. "That's good... Thanks for, uh, helping out on the ridge. Luke told me about it."

"I had a headache and they were being too loud," I breathed as I tore my gaze away from his.

"Ah."

"Yeah."

Gracie finally took the remote from my indecisive brother and decided on a movie called 10 Things I Hate About You. I tried not to let it show, but I loved this movie. Gracie glanced at me, smiling when she noticed the smile on my own face. My arms were wrapped around my legs, chin on my knees. As the movie drew on, I relaxed a little and grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch. "Kat is so bad ass," I commented and Gracie agreed with a 'I know right'. I bit my lip, almost fangirling when Heath Ledger appeared on screen. An audible groan left my throat and Ashton turned to look at me. I flushed and he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Heath Ledger?" I shushed him and shook his head.

"No, not Heath Ledger. It's Patrick Verona, get it right. Heath was great, don't get my wrong, but the character of Patrick is just, ugh," I laid my head back.

"I'll be sure to take some notes from old Patty then," Ashton mused and I gave him a look, so he quickly corrected himself. "I mean, if you like him every other girl must too." I furrowed my brow at his reasoning and shook my head.

"Nah, Gracie doesn't. She's more of a Cameron James kinda girl," we shared a laugh and I turned back to the television while pulling the blanket underneath my chin. I relaxed a little more, not leaning as far away from him. So it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.