Ashton and Angelina had always been competitive. Ever since they met in first grade, they had challenged each other in everything from art to academics to sports. They had a love-hate relationship, where they secretly admired each other’s skills, but also annoyed each other to no end. They rarely agreed on anything, except for their mutual passion for drawing, and their mutual dislike for Jake.
But after their prank on Jake, something changed. They felt a new kind of tension between them, a tension that was not entirely hostile, but rather curious and confusing. Ash started to notice things about her that he had never noticed before, like the way her hair smelled like strawberries, or the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled. He started to feel things that he had never felt before, like butterflies in his stomach, or warmth in his cheeks. He started to wonder if they could be more than rivals, or – God forbid – more than friends.
Angie herself felt conflicted about their relationship. She knew she was aromantic, and knew she had no chance whatsoever of being anything more than friends with him (she completely shunned the thought of either), but she’d watched enough romantic movies to notice that…something about how they interacted over the past few months, she couldn’t help but relate it to a movie, and ask Ash what he really thinks of her. She’d noticed the signs. She’d felt his palms get sweaty whenever they faked holding hands for the fake dates. She’d noticed a slight reddish tint in his cheeks every time they gazed into each other’s eyes. She wondered, what does he really think?
But they were too proud and stubborn to tell the other. They were afraid of ruining their friendship, or their rivalry, or both. They were afraid of being rejected, or ridiculed, or hurt. They were afraid of their own feelings.
So they did what they always did: they competed. They competed for grades, for awards, for attention. They competed to prove themselves, to impress each other, to deny their feelings. They competed to avoid the truth.
Angelina walked up to him one day during lunch break, and said, “Hey, Ash… I had a random question.”
“Shoot.”
“You know how we’d been… uh… pranking Jake for a while?” she asked, voice laced with fear and nervousness.
“Yeah, what about it?”
She gulped. She took a deep breath, and opened her mouth to finally tell him what she had noticed. But once she looked around, and looked into his eyes, all she could say was, “That was fun, wasn’t it?”
“Uh, yeah. It was, I guess… but hey, listen. I need to talk to you about something. Did you take the sketchbook?”
“Sketchbook? What sketchbook.”
This fueled Ash’s anger. “Don’t act dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about. You took my sketchbook, didn’t you? A few weeks back, before the art contest?”
Angie was alarmed. It all came back to her. The day before the contest, he lost his sketchbook. And now he was blaming her for it. “Why would I ever take your sketchbook?!”
“You took the sketchbook. You cost me a big win. I saw you and one of your little friends flipping through it yesterday. So, explain.”
Angelina took a minute to think. She took a deep breath, and said,
I never took that book. See, I didn’t even know you lost it till the day of the contest. You’d left it in the art room, and my friend Leann noticed it. She’s a comic artist too, quite good at it, might I add. She came up to me during lunch, and asked if it was mine because she’d seen me around in the art room a lot. I replied, “That isn’t mine. I think it’s Ash’s. I’m not really sure.”
Your name wasn’t on the front cover page, so we were flipping through it to look for a name. I guess that’s when you must’ve seen us. But almost immediately after we found out that it was yours, one of the teachers called me for something, so I told Lee to keep it safe, and give it back to you later. Has she given it to you yet?
“Leann is the Korean girl who joined this year, isn’t she?” he asked, scratching his chin.
“Yeah, that’s her.” Angie replied, her lips curling up into a small smile. “I’m glad I got to know her like I did.”
“Honestly, I wish I were as social and outgoing as you. I don’t have nearly enough guts to go up and start conversation or anything.” Ashton admitted.
“But… you won first place in every public speaking contest.”
Ash bit his lip, and said, “That’s because I put in hours of practice to perfect it. I’m… not very good at casual, naturally-flowing conversation.”
“You’re not half bad. You’re talking casually with me right now.” she said with a reassuring smile.
“Yes, but I’ve known you for years. This is… different. Talking with your lifelong rival, and with a cute new girl in your class are two completely different things.”
Angie burst out laughing. She nudged his arm playfully. “Cute new girl? Looks like someone has a crush!”
Something about the word ‘crush’ seemed to elicit an over-the-top, dramatic hormonal response from Ash. His cheeks grew red, and sweat began rolling down his face. “NO!” he objected. “Don’t be silly!”
“Hmm, okay. But there she is right now, with your sketchbook,” said Angie, gesturing to the black-haired girl walking towards them.
“Angie!” she cried.
Angelina extended her hand for a fist bump. After the small bump, they pulled their hands back slowly and dramatically, mimicking an explosion. “Hey Lee, sup?”
She ignored Angie’s question and extended the book to Ash. “I… I came to hand over your book.” she said to Ash timidly.
“My sketchbook! I thought I’d never see it again!” he cheered, and threw his arms around Leann, out of excitement and happiness. “Thank you so much for helping me find it!”
Leann smiled, and tried to release herself from the hug, but it was no good. Ash was too excited. But she couldn’t help but admit that she somewhat enjoyed it too. “It’s no problem,” she chirped.
Ash slowly broke the hug, and put his hands in his pockets. He fidgeted around, trying to figure out what to say next. Angie punched him lightly, so as to say, “Well? Ask her out!”
“By the way, what’s your name?”
“Leann,”
“Cool. My name’s Ashton, but you can just call me ‘Ash’.”
“That’s a really nice name.”
“Thanks,”
“Your art is really good… can you… maybe… teach me some?” she asked, voice laced with anxiety and fear. “If you don’t mind, of course… it’s okay if you said no…”
“Sure, that’d be great. When do you want to start?”
“It’s… it’s your wish.”
“Tomorrow during lunch?”
Leann nodded. Both parted ways from Angie, both equally excited to have talked to the other for the first time, and, although they didn’t realize it, were forging a new bond together.
(A.N. I advise you to read the next few bits of this part with discretion if you ship Ash and Angie... my friend FLIPPED OUT.)
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