Emilia's POV

Over the next couple weeks, Ashton and I hang out almost every day. He has been walking with me to each of my classes or when I head to the library to either study or work. He would even wait for me after I left from my early shifts at the library to take me out to get lunch. The previous awkwardness that I used to feel when in his presence completely has slowly diminished. I am able to talk to him like I do with Julia, and Ashton teases me about it because now he can't get me to shut up.

With the help of Professor Ross and the assigned project for class, I have more of a reason to become real friends with Ashton than I did prior. Before, I didn't think much would come from this new friendship but now that we actually have to spend time together, I now know there's no getting away from it and I'm okay with that. Even though neither of us talked about being partners for the project, we just both assumed that we are. I think subconsciously he knew I wouldn't have been comfortable partnering up with anyone else but him. There have been very few instances when I have spoken to my fellow classmates, and I would have liked to keep it that way, but Ashton didn't give me much of a choice with his intrusive nature. I'm pretty sure if hadn't met him the day before Professor Ross announced the project I would have been on my way to my advisor to drop the hell out of the class.

Grabbing the elastic band from my wrist, I pull my dark hair and out of my face as I get ready for work. It's only noon, and I'm surprised by the small number of students who are lounging and studying in the library. Normally it's flooding with students stressing way too early in the semester, but it's quite peaceful today. Given the slow pace of work, I ask Finn—the student supervisor and my co-worker—to let me shelve books instead of working at the front desk. Since the library is practically empty and there are already two other student workers the front desk, Finn allows it.

As I place the books that were left scattered across one of the many empty tables back onto the bookshelf, my phone begins vibrating in my back pocket. I fumble with the phone until catching a glimpse of Ashton's name on the caller ID. I look around for Finn, checking for the clear before answering the call.

"Hello?" I whisper.

"Emmie!" Ashton yells, his voice sounding frantic. "Are you at work?"

Shushing and telling him to kindly lower the volume of his voice before my ear begins to bleed, I respond, "Yes. I thought you knew my work schedule by now seeing that you walk me here and constantly drop by to give me food." It's still hard to comprehend how comfortable we've become with one another. We can tease and crack jokes with one another and have fun with it. It has basically come to the point where Ashton and I can recite our favorite food orders to each other. "I've been meaning to ask you about that, are you trying to make me fat?" I tease.

"I was only trying to get some meat on those bones of yours," he jokes. "Have you seen your arms? They're like twigs!"

"Ha ha." Sarcasm drips off my tongue. "Why are you calling anyway?"

"My friend-slash-roommate needs some help finding a book for his history report or something like that. I told him you worked in the library and that you would be able to help him."

"Why would you tell him that? You know I'm not good at talking to people I don't know."

There are a few seconds of silence followed by a short giggle before Ashton's voice breaks through. "You really need to give yourself more credit, Emmie."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean when I was waiting for you to finish your shift last week, you had no problem talking to all the students that needed help. You even went above and beyond to gather each and every book that a girl needed to help with her dissertation. You're not only talking more to me but others as well," he explains.

He's not wrong. Ever since I started hanging out with Ashton, I've become more comfortable talking to those around me, which is a huge change from my usual avoidance. I was even able to let one of the other students in my communications class sit in the seat to the left of me—the right still being occupied by Ashton—which was previously the residence of my backpack that was once my shield to avoid having others sit next to me.

"I guess so," I murmur.

"So like I said, give yourself some credit. Who knows, maybe by next week you'll be taking my place as the social butterfly in this friendship."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Irwin." I laugh, scanning the perimeter and making sure Finn is nowhere to be seen as I listen to Ashton.

"Referring to me by my surname now?" I can hear him smiling through the phone. "I see how it is, Anderson."

Shaking my head in amusement, I steer his attention back to the actual reason as to why he called. "So who's this friend of yours that I need to help?"

"His name is Michael. It shouldn't be too hard to find him. Just look out for a guy with black and red hair. I sent him over in your direction about thirty minutes ago, so he should be there soon if not already."

I inspect the room, looking for anyone who matches his description. Like Ashton said, this Michael guy isn't hard to find at all. He's standing at the front desk talking to one of the female workers, having to repeat his question several times to her until she stands and points in my direction.

"I found him," I say into the phone.

"Great! Thanks for doing this Emmie," Ashton says. "I'll let you get to it then. Text me if you need anything."

I nod even though he can't see me. I watch as Michael thanks the woman before walking towards me. He looks to be a bit taller than Ashton but not by much. His pale skin contrasts greatly with the black shirt and skinny jeans he's wearing.

Before I can respond back to Ashton, a tap on my shoulder emits a gasp out of me. I turn to meet a displeased Finn; his eyebrow raised and arms crossed over his chest. "Emilia," Finn says warningly.

I quickly pull the phone away from my ear, briefly hearing Ashton yell out my name before hitting the 'END' button on the screen. I give Finn an apologetic smile and he brushes the situation off with a warning. I sigh in relief once he walks off and turn around to meet a pair of green eyes.

"Michael?" I quiz, even though I'm more than certain this is him.

He nods. "Emmie?" His accent sounds just like Ashton's. Is he also from Australia?

"Emilia," I correct, annoyed that Ashton told Michael his nickname for me.

I watch as his eyes close shut momentarily, forming little crinkles around the edges before opening them and letting out a small chuckle. "Ash told me to call you that. He was spot on with your unamused reaction to his little nickname for you."

I roll my eyes, "I think he just likes to push my buttons."

"I've noticed."

My phone begins buzzing in my hand, showing several text messages from Ashton when I glance at the screen.

"Are you okay?"

"Emmie?"

"What happened? You just hung up on me"

"Was it Finn?"

"Did you find Michael?"

"Emilia Anderson!"

Shaking my head, I silence my phone not even bothering to answer any of Ashton's texts. I bring my gaze from my phone back up to Michael to find him studying my face. This is my first time meeting one of Ashton's friends and I am beginning to feel slightly nervous.

"You look very familiar. Have we met before?" Michael asks, cocking his head.

I shake my head. His eyes continue to trace my every feature before realization strikes him.

"You're in my ten-thirty history class with Professor Saldivar?" His question comes out as more of a statement.

I stare, confused, studying him like he did me and trying to remember his face as I think back to who is in my class. "Wait, are you the one who had the white hair with a black streak down the middle at the beginning of the semester?" I ask.

He chuckles. "Yeah, that's me. I dye my hair frequently, so I understand why you didn't recognize me at first." It's really hard not to forget someone who basically had a reverse skunk on their head.

"So Ashton said you needed help with something?"

"Yeah. You know the essay over that novel we have to do for history?" I nod. "Well I need to find that book," he explains.

"There aren't any copies left here in the library," I inform. He's not the first person to come here looking for the same book. At least he's not blaming me for the school's lack of multiple copies.

If it weren't for my impeccable hearing, I wouldn't have heard him mumble a quiet 'shit' under his breath. He drags his hand across the little stubble running from his jaw line to his neck, clearly stressed.

"You can borrow my copy," I offer. "I finished it a couple days ago."

Waves of relief fall over him. "Really? Thank you so much, Emmie—I mean, Emilia." He smiles widely and engulfs me in a hug. My body tenses at the contact but quickly relaxes when I feel the same secure feeling that Ashton makes me feel when around him. He finally releases me and we both smile at one another.

"I'll bring the book to class tomorrow," I say.

Michael nod, "Thanks again." Silence falls over us briefly. "You know, Ashton talks a lot about you to me and our other friends. We'd all really like to get to know you better."

Professor Ross' project is the furthest thing from my mind at the moment. I actually want to meet Ashton's friends. If Michael is this easy to get along with, I can only imagine what the others would be like.

"I'd better get going now, but I'll see you tomorrow." Michael waves me off before ambling out the exit.

If someone were to tell me I would be stepping out of my comfort zone and making friends with someone other than Julia, I would have laughed in their face. Who's laughing now?

"You did great," a familiar accented voice says, his hand resting on my shoulder. I turn around and his signature smile spreads across his face. I stare for a moment before turning my back and walking off jokingly.

"What did I do?" he asks, catching up to me.

I stop in my tracks, pouting like a frustrated child. "First you make me meet your friend, get me in trouble with Finn, and you told your friends that stupid nickname you call me."

A fit of laughter overcomes him as he pokes my puffed out cheeks. "Aw, look at my little social butterfly." I glare up at him and he continues to laugh. "You look cute when you're angry."

Warmth radiates from my cheeks, and I swat his hand away, crossing my arms over my chest. I try my hardest to act mad but that stupid smile of his always seems to break through my poker face. "Shut it, Irwin."