k a r r i s

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I stood in absolute shock with my mouth agape as I gawked at the being before me. My jaw was practically to the floor for such a long time, I was pretty sure drool was starting to dribble from the side of my mouth. But my body couldn't help but to react in an embarrassing way because while I half expected someone from Berkley's family to be at the door, maybe even a neighbor, I wouldn't have ever guessed that standing before me, was none other than the arrogant hockey player.

"I know I'm jaw dropping sexy, but you're starting to drool, princess," Ashton winked, crossing his very muscular arms across his chest.

I rolled my eyes in annoyance, "what do you want, Ashton? I'm not exactly happy with you right now."

Ashton let out a frustrated groan, rubbing his face, "can you get over it? Please? I need you to help me."

"That's it?" I raised a brow as I let out an unamused chuckled, "no apology?"

"Karebear, I'm sorry for ditching you last night, okay? I had shit to take care of," Ashton's apology wasn't genuine at all; he was only spewing out the words I wanted to hear so I would give in.

"First of all, what have I told you in the past about calling me Karebear," I warned, "second of all, I get it. Friday nights are meant for partying in your book. And I know I'm the class geek but believe it or not, I actually have a social life too. Maybe not as notorious as yours, but I still do things on Fridays that don't include doing anything academic related."

Ashton and I stood there just staring at one another with stubborn expressions painted across our faces. There was a part of me still willing to tutor Ashton, but if he wanted my help, he had to earn it. He had to realize that he couldn't take advantage of me because he ruled the school halls, and I was a mouse in comparison. I'm was a person with feelings, and I had to be treated like one.

"Hey," his face softened as his arms unwounded. Grabbing both my hands in his large ones he let out a breath, "I fucked up, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ditch you like that. I need your help Karris, seriously, on and off the ice. Please don't ditch me and be my tutor."

My hands were starting to feel clammy in his because I was nervous. Ashton was holding my hands and even though he was Satan's child, he was still freaking beautiful. And it didn't help that he was quite close to me, his hazel eyes piercing through my soul. Plus his arms were distractingly muscular on this particular Saturday morning, and with all the strength I could muster from within me, I tried not to stare at them.

"Please?" Ashton plead, dropping onto both his knees. He let go of my hands before lacing his fingers together, staring at me with a pout plastered on his face, "please, princess? Please?"

After what seemed like ages, I finally decided to accept Ashton's apology, "fine, I'll tutor you."

"You're shitting me!" Ashton shrieked with elation, jumping onto both feet. His arms grabbed me by the waist and with ease, he picked me up.

Ashton shook me around, burying his face into my chest as I rested my hands on his strong shoulders. I blushed because here I was, awkward ole me, who didn't know how to act around boys, had Willowridge High's hottest commodity clinging to my body. It was insane to say the least.

Ashton put me back on the ground, his arms still around my waist. He was so undeniably close, our chests touching each time we exhaled. I wanted to step back, push him away because this type of intimacy was too much for me to handle. But at the same time, I liked it. I felt an odd burst of electricity that I couldn't explain. There wasn't a theory, a math equation or a hard, scientific algorithm that could justify the zealous stimulation probing my entire being.

I kept my vision straight ahead. Ashton was a whole foot taller than I and if I kept my head low, that would mean avoiding any eye contact with him. Looking at Ashton when he's pissed feels different than looking him in the eye when he's not. When he opens his emotions, becoming a more vulnerable person, looking him in the eyes is like letting him look into my deepest, vulnerable state too -- and that scared me.

"Lefty-loosey," Ashton murmured, garnering my attention. When I gazed upwards, Ashton's fingers moved a few strands of my hair behind my left ear. His thumb gently grazed the dimple that adorned the left side of my cheek, "Gabe's was on his right."

"Righty-tighty," I breathed, and I saw a twinkle in his eyes like he was hit with a realization, or two.

Realization number one: our bodies were too close.

"Uh, yea," Ashton coughed, shuffling back a few paces so we had a couple of feet in between us. Realization number two, "makes sense dude. Gabe had a stupid tattoo under his arm that said 'lefty-loosey' on it."

Ladies and gentlemen, snarky Ashton Irwin was back.

"I'm sorry, did you just say tattoo?" I queried, puzzlement dripping from my voice. "Gabe doesn't have a tattoo."

"Like I said before Karebe--"

I shot Ashton a warning snarl.

"Karris," he corrected himself, "you probably don't know your brother as well as you think you do," Ashton smirked and I opened my mouth to speak, but he quickly shot me down, "you know the deal."

I scoffed, "when do you want to get started on the tutoring?"

"Um," Ashton pursed his lips, looking down at the nonexistent watch on his wrist, "how does now, sound?"

Berkley woke up while I gathered my things. As I stuffed my clothes and toiletries into my bag, my best friend groggily opened her eyes to ask if I were about to make pancakes. However, upon explaining the situation with Ashton, she frowned at the stack of pancakes that were not going to be imminently in her stomach.

"Sorry girl, raincheck on the homemade pancakes," I smiled, "I'll call you later."

"Yea, yea," she wavered her hand, turning her body and delving deeper into the covers, "kick Ashton's ass for ditching you."

"Yes, ma'am," I promised, opening her room door and stepping out.

"Don't forget to tell Michael to come watch the ass-kickery," Berkley yelled just as I closed the door.

I chuckled to myself, happy to see that my best friend was slowly becoming herself again. I hoped that when Monday rolled around, and Berkley was back in the halls of Willowridge, she would strut through the campus with her chin up. With all the terrible things she's been through, I was praying that it was the end of it.

The drive to my house in Ashton's car was surprisingly not awkward at all. The speakers blared the talented musicians of Mayday Parade, and as quickly as "Jersey" began, I got lost in the vocals of Derek Sanders. As I sang along to the power ballad, I caught Ashton eyeing me with narrowed brows.

"You know Mayday Parade?" He sounded surprised, though I didn't blame him. Despite the cliche cliques that seemed to plague every teen movie, I clung to my so-called label perfectly.

"Do I not exude the properties of a typical punk rocker?" I teased, turning my head to take a glimpse at Ashton.

"Honestly, no," Ashton answered, "but that's pretty cool."

"Have you ever seen them play live before?" I asked him, my mind drifting to the beginning of the summer when I experienced my first Warped Tour.

Ashton shook his head, "I wish! Wait a second..." Ashton's face dropped and his jaw opened, "don't tell me you have!"

"Guilty," I smirked, holding my hands up in mock-defense. "I went to Warped Tour a few months ago. Gabe had a spare ticket that he let me have and I helped buy Berkley's. I saw Mayday Parade the for the first time that day."

Ashton let out a chuckle, shaking his head as he re-grasped the wheel. I stared at him, wondering what was going on in his mind. He seemed to know what I was thinking, because he answered.

"That spare ticket Gabe gave you," Ashton started, glancing at me with a curious grin, "was actually mine."

"What?!" I yelped. "I remember Gabe telling me that a friend bailed, but I didn't know that friend was--"

"--me," Ashton finished, just as he pulled into my subdivision.

"Why'd you miss Warped Tour?" I questioned, "it seems like you really wanted to go."

Ashton's face dropped into smooth lines, and suddenly, he wasn't so keen on conversing anymore.

"Couldn't handle all the emotions?" I joked, hoping I could make light out of the subject. I was enjoying the civil dialogue between the two of us, and I didn't want it to suddenly stop.

"Drop it Karris," Ashton shot me down promptly, his eyes cold as he glared out the window with ire.

I slumped deeper into my seat, not willing to continue the conversation. I was however, glad that we were only a minute away from my house because I wasn't sure if I could handle a prolonged car ride that was totally awkward. Ashton turned up the music, and though my favorite song was percolating through the speakers, I didn't feel like singing it at the top of my lungs even though I wanted to.

When we arrived at my house, Ashton parked his car on the driveway next to my mom's car. It was still pretty early in the morning and my mom wasn't due for her shift for a few hours. The hockey captain and I walked up the pathway in silence. Fishing out my keys from my jacket pocket, I pulled out the silver apparatus that would unlock the front door.

"Is no one home?" Ashton suddenly asked, as I turned the key in its cavity, hearing the mechanics inside the knob click.

"My mom should b--" I halted my words when I opened the door and found black luggage sitting in the entryway.

I stepped into the warmth of my home, letting Ashton follow suit. I gazed in confusion at the large baggage and smaller matching one next to it. I reached for the American Airlines tag that was attached to the top handle, but before I could grasp it, my name echoed through out the house.

"Karris!" The deep voice called out, "anak ko!"

(translation: my child or my dear)

"Daddy!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, launching my body toward the figure standing at the end of the entryway. The moment I was reunited with my father, I held onto him tightly.

Despite the fact that my dad often took business trips, I would never get used to being in a home that felt empty. Yes, my mother would always be there for me, but ever since Gabe the house never felt as whole as it once was.

"I thought you weren't coming home for another week? Aren't you and that Facebook founder guy speaking at the Social Summit together?" I wondered, separating from my father's embrace.

"The summit got cancelled," my dad's voice was sing-song and brimmed with glee, "but I did get to me--"

Dad paused when his eyes lifted. The almond-shaped, dark brown eyes that matched mine were no longer looking at me, but instead were focused on whatever was behind me. Which then jogged my memory because I completely neglected a certain someone.

"Oh, sorry Tay," I apologized, shooting my dad a sheepish frown, "classmate ko."

(translation: Dad; my classmate)

"Ash," I glanced at him as I gestured for the aging man standing next to me, "this is my dad."

Ashton took a stride forward, holding out his hand, and with a dimpled smile, "good morning, po. Kumusta ang biyahe?"

(translation: good morning (said with respect); how was the trip/travels?)

For what seemed like the millionth time this morning, my jaw dropped. My organs, plus the bodily fluids inside my body, were only a millisecond away from shooting out my butt hole like lava. Bewildered wouldn't even begin to explain how mind boggled I was at Ashton's unexpected stint with speaking our native tongue.

My dad laughed. He was severely impressed, a burly chuckle reverberating off of the walls. He took Ashton's hand, and instead of shaking it, my father pulled in the hockey captain for a tight hug. Ashton reciprocated the embrace, patting my dad on the back with a very large grin.

"Where did you learn how to speak Tagalog?" My dad asked the question we were all thinking.

"It was Gabe," Ashton declared, pride gleaming in his eyes.

My dad snapped his fingers as his face lit up in realization, "you're number 15."

"Yes, sir. I am," Ashton grinned in fulfillment.

I stood back, watching in amazement as both my father and Ashton continue their conversation with enthusiasm surging through their systems like electricity. The two of them sauntered through the entryway together, chuckling at some joke about basketball that I couldn't quite understand. With a defeated sigh, I shook my head in amusement before following them to the main living area.

I left the two males alone, joining my mom at the stove where she was preparing a typical Filipino breakfast. The sizzling pan of Spam, red hotdogs, eggs, and fish were also the main components of my father's favorite dishes, and with his unexpected homecoming, it was only natural for my mom to prepare them for him. Grabbing a plate, I began placing scoops of steaming hot rice onto the ceramic surface before my mother strategically dropped the fried foods on the empty area.

"Tay, your food is ready," I announced, setting down the plate on the dinner table.

"Thank you, anak. This looks great," dad praised, walking over to the table. However, before he took a seat, he looked over his shoulder and gestured for the hockey player behind him, "come Ashton, please eat with us."

"Thank you, po," Ashton approached with a smile.

(translation: thank you [said with respect])

My mom set a plate full of food in front of Ashton, giving him a motherly rub on the back. Without uttering a single word, I fell into deep thought, observing Ashton interact with my family. He was deeply engaged with my dad, even complimenting my mom on the food. This enthrallment was definitely something to be witnessed; to be a part of. Because the more I sat and watched, the more I understood the underlying significance.

Gabe.

"You really miss him, don't you?" I blurted as Ashton and I ascended the staircase after finishing up our breakfast. I looked over to the silent hockey captain with a small smile etched on my face.

"I'll see your father again," Ashton smirked.

I shot him smug look, "you know what I mean."

Leading Ashton to my room, I nudged the door slightly, still leaving it cracked opened. Dropping my bag to the floor, I began to grab all our study materials as Ashton made himself at home by plopping himself on my unmade bed. He continued to make himself more at home, by connecting his phone into the auxiliary cord attached to my speaker.

"Are we gonna dance, or study?" I raised a brow, bringing my textbook over to him.

"The music helps me concentrate," Ashton justified with a shrug. He stuffed his hand into his backpack, pulling out a folder and a blue, spiral notebook.

Dragging my desk chair out from beneath the table, I took a seat with my Biology notes on my lap, "we've got a quiz on meiosis in plants this Wednesday, so I think that's where we should start."

"Whatever you want, Hitler," Ashton exhaled, opening up his notebook.

"Hitler?" I scowled, "really?"

"Just playing around," Ashton explained simply.

Flipping through my notebook to the section of notes I took on Plant Meiosis, my peripheral vision zoned in on Ashton's own notebook. In the midst of horribly written notes and doodles of his teachers, were a few pages here and there of drawings. No, they weren't some of Ashton's creative portraits of zombies with grotesque phalluses, instead the drawings were done with an unpolluted touch.

"My siblings are quite the artists," Ashton commented, as if reading my mind. He lifted the notebook so I could have a better view of the animal drawings done in crayon.

My eyes darted from the drawing to Ashton, who had a dimpled smile on his face. There was a light aura that beamed around him; a familiar encompassment of pureness that I once saw when I bumped into Ashton while in San Diego with Calum. Seeing Ashton gush over a crayon-covered notebook and you could tell that he loved his siblings more than anything.

"I wasn't at that party for the reason you think," Ashton pipped up, looking me in the eyes with a sullen expression.

"What you do is none of my business," I quickly replied, "like I told you, if partying on Friday nights are a routine for you, then so be it."

Ashton shook his head, flinging his notebook onto the bed, "Karris, I didn't ditch our study session last night because I was out partying."

"I saw a photo of you at the shindig," I brought up, "you don't need to lie to me."

"Yes, I was at the party," Ashton admitted with a groan, clearly frustrated about something, "but I wasn't there to fuck around."

"Then why were you there?" I raised a brow in curiosity.

"The party was thrown by Vince Kaptor from the football team. He lives next door to me," Ashton began to explain, "and the noise was getting out of control. I went over there to ask Vince to turn down the music because my little brother and sister couldn't sleep."

"But that would've been at around 9:30-ish. Our study session was supposed to be at 5:30," I indicated, remembering the timestamp in which I received the Tweet from Michael and Luke.

"Look, I'm not as much of a dick as you think I am," Ashton defended.

"I, uh, erm--"

Ashton held up his hand, causing me to cease my lousy attempt to vouch for the hockey player, "stop speaking... you can admit it: I'm an asshole."

"I mean, some days you're okay," I quipped.

"Just know that at home, I do all I can to take care of my siblings. I pick them up from school when I can, I help them with their homework, make their lunches," Ashton disclosed, his tone tainted with a bitter taste as he spoke.

"Hey," I breathed, "you don't need to explain any further, I understand. And I already forgave--"

"--this is more than just you forgiving me," he interrupted, his voice loud against my room walls.

I jumped in my own skin, before jumping out of my chair. I wasn't sure what I was thinking at that moment, but what I was feeling, was guilt. I walked over to Ashton with the intention of plopping next to him so I can console the heated hockey player, but because this was me we were talking about, grace wasn't my forte. So instead of dropping my butt onto the bed, I tripped on the bedpost and dropped right onto Ashton's lap.

My eyes grew wide, shock enveloping my entire body. I gawked at Ashton in embarrassment as he stared right back at me. My entire body was frozen, and even though my mind was screaming for me to hop off of his lap, my muscles wouldn't function. I expected Ashton to at least shove me off his body; to push me onto the floor before calling me a freak. But instead something else happened.

"I'm not a bad guy," Ashton whispered, his breath warm as it fanned against my skin. He was so close to me, so incredibly close, that I could detect every little line, freckle, and scar on Ashton's face.

Out of nervousness I dropped my head to avoid any more eye contact with Ashton. However, this only prompted the boy to hook a finger beneath my chin. Lifting my face upwards so he could look me in the eye, Ashton spoke again,

"Come on, tutor me."  

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I really liked writing this chapter and it's definitely one of my favorites! 

Do you all remember in the prologue when Karris goes into Gabe's room and reminisces about Warped Tour after seeing a photo tacked on his wall? Karris mentions that Gabe's friends ditched him, and in this chapter we learn that it was Ashton who ditched Gabe -- you'll find out more about that in later chapters.

Also, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to date anyone from 5SOS. I'm sure we've all thought about that before. But culturally speaking, I think it'd be funny and awesome to see any of the guys eating Filipino food and learning how to say a few things in the Filipino language. A lot of my cousins have dated boys/girls from different cultures and it's always cool to see them learn from one another. And it's like a sign of respect when my cousin's boyfriend/girlfriend takes the time to learn a phrase or two, and try some of our traditional dishes. So just imagine Ash, Cal, Luke or Mikey trying to impress your family by learning YOUR culture and BYEEEE... omg, it's too much for me to think about haha.

Thanks everyone for the constant support. Please continue to vote, comment, and share this story with everyone. I work really hard on each chapter and carve out the story in a specific way, so I really appreciate it when my stories get all the love! Thank you!!