The Boys of Hawthorne by Ashtyn Short

Chapter Twenty Five 

Aspen 

I can tell that the boys are already in the kitchen by the time I begin descending the stairs because from across the silence filling the air around me, their voices can clearly be heard. 

“Bos doesn’t need anything, he already…ate,” One of the boys remarks, putting emphasis on the word ate. I cringe, hating that they know what happened between us, and instantly 

regretting letting Boston into my bed last night. 

I can hear the smile that he’s wearing in his voice, and although I do love the camaraderie 

between the four of them, it’s hard for me to look past the fact that they’re clearly talking 

about me. Or at least one of them is, the other two just chuckle at their brothers‘ antics, but don’t lend any input. 

“Ooh, she loves it when you do it just like that, and when she gets real close, she gets the shivers…” he sings, only changing the words up to fit the point he wishes to make, “Now your baby, she can dance ‘til the sunlight cracks, and when the party’s over, she brings you right back- to her bed,” he says the last part, without the singsong voice, but instead a cocky one. 

“Linc, stoooppp!” One of the boys pleads, chuckling. 

“No can do Bos, because Ooh, she loves it when you do it just like that, and when she gets real close, she gets the shivers…” As I round the corner, I find Lincoln dancing around the kitchen. Dallas and Jackson are leaning back against the counter, watching the goings–on around. them. And then there’s Boston, sitting at the breakfast bar, with his face buried in his hands, shaking his head back in forth, his shoulders moving up and down with what I assume is 

silent laughter. 

Anger floods throughout my entire system that he’s sitting here, letting them make a fool out of me and doing nothing to stop it. If he really felt something towards me as he said, het would have already shut this down. 

The two against the counter notice me and shaking my head, I place my finger to my downturned lips, giving them the international sign to be quiet. 

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Chapter Twenty Five 

“You wanna be that guy. You wanna kiss her eyes. You wanna drink that smile. You wanna feel like your soul’s on fire. You wanna stay up all day and all night–buried balls deep inside of her pu- 

“What the hell?” I growl, interrupting him as I stop behind him, crossing my arms beneath my breasts and pinning him with the same glare that I’d given his brother this morning. 

Clearly having caught him off guard, he jumps back and shouts, “Holy fuck! Shit, Aspen!” As he turns around, he has his hand on his chest as if I scared the life out of him. 

With a raised eyebrow, I look him up and down, letting him know that I am not enthused in the least. Then, I chance a glance over to Boston, only to find him just as he’d been when I last looked at him. Only now the tips of his ears are beet red, I’m assuming at the realization that I heard Lincoln’s crude rendition of Ed Sheeran’s Shivers. Especially after I very clearly told him that there was absolutely nothing between us. 

“Did you like my song?” Lincoln asks, having obviously recovered from his heart attack. 

“Definitely not. And, I think Mr. Sheeran would be very disturbed after having heard that,” I tell him, not having to fake the disgust that I feel. Unfortunately, it’s disgust at myself more than it is at any of these boys at the moment. 

When I leave Lincoln’s side, to make my way over to Boston I watch as he tenses, not even appearing to breathe as I stop behind him. 

“Sheeran, shit no! That was all this new band, No Resolve. Their fucking amazing!” Lincoln * says, as he finishes doing whatever it was he was doing before serenading Boston, and clearly 

ignoring the obvious tension in the room.” 

“I think that we should leave…” Dallas mentions, reading the situation, unlike the rest of the 

boys. 

“What–no!” Lincoln says, but then glances over at me and must realize that Dallas is right. “On second thought…see ya.” 

“Look-” Boston starts, as soon as his brothers are out of the room. 

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Chapter Twenty Five 

“No, you look!” I shout, “I told you this morning that last night was a mistake and then you. go and talk about it with your brothers! Are you fucking kidding me?” 

“I didn-” He starts but I pin him with a glare that makes him reconsider his words. “Okay, I did but it’s not what you think.” 

I wait for him to explain, but when he doesn’t I huff in annoyance, growling, “fucking seriously, Boston?” 

“Jax was in my room this morning when I got back in there,” he behinds, “he was asking at bunch of questions.” 

“What kinds of questions?” I ask as I lean my hip against the counter, waiting for his answer. 

Sighing, he runs his hand over his face, whether in irritation or at a loss, I’m not sure. “He was the one in my room this morning. He asked if I was with you last night and then asked if we were together.” 

“And what did you say?” 

“I told him that fucking you hate me, okay?” Then, he pushes away from the counter and 

leaves the kitchen. I hear the front door slam and as I go back over his words, the brokenness 

of his voice and the look on his face as he said them, and a sliver of regret over the things 

that I’d said and how I treated him this morning takes hold. 

Am I in the wrong? I wonder as I reach down to grab my bag from the bench next to the door, noticing Boston’s still lying next to it. Picking it up too, I shoulder it and then make my way. outside and to the truck, knowing that this is going to be one awkward as hell drive to school. 

I get in and the tension is thick within the cab as all of the boys ignore one another. As I’d suspected, the drive is tense, silent, and awkward as fuck as we make our way to Hawthorne 

High. 

As we pull into the parking lot, dread churns in my gut even more than it had already been for the hell that I’m likely to face. 

Yesterday ended up going better than Monday had, thanks to having the boys by my side and 

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Chapter Twenty Five 

shutting down any negative talk about me any time they heard it, but they can’t be with me. every moment of every day, and after this morning, I don’t have the slightest clue as to what to expect. 

My first unofficial cheer practice was not a very fun experience. I’m pretty sure my ass is one giant bruise, funny that I didn’t feel it while Boston and I were having our fun this morning. It wasn’t until I pulled my jeans over my butt while getting dressed afterward, that I realized how badly it hurt from the girls constantly making me fall off the top of the pyramid as they followed Whitney’s orders and tried to get me to quit before I’ve officially even started, like good little minions. 

God, I hope it doesn’t last long, I think to myself as we step out of the truck and head towards the entrance doors. Not that I can’t handle it, because I can. I would like to actually enjoy my senior year, not just get by, dreading each day that I have to step into these halls, or each class that I have to go to without them in it, playing interference for the mess that they started in the first place. 

I’m pulled from my thoughts when someone places their hand against my shoulder, redirecting me until we are standing just outside of the doors and my back is against the red brick wall. 

“You’re going to be fine,” Lincoln tells me, glancing over at his brother as if trying to reassure him as much as he is me. His blue eyes take in my green ones, attempting to read where my head is at. “We’re going be with you every chance that we can and put a stop to as much of the shit–talking as we can too.” 

“I’m not so sure about that,” I mutter more to myself than to him, but he hears me. 

“Why? Because of what happened this morning?” He asks, looking down at me, but lacking the look that his brother gets in his eyes when he looks at me. When Boston looks at me, it’s as though I’m his everything. But when Lincoln looks at me, it’s like all he sees is his little. sister. Which is a good thing, because I don’t need one more freaking complication in my life. Feeling uncomfortable at comparing the two of them, I look down at the ground, unable to hold his stare. “Hey, look at me,” he says, and when I don’t do as he asks and instead continue looking down, he uses his index finger and thumb to bring my face back up to his. “He will get over what happened this morning. This is our fault, we fucked up and het shouldn’t expect you to forgive him after one day of trying to make it right.” 

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Chapter Twenty Five 

“I just–this is all so confusing,” I tell him honestly. 

“It doesn’t have to be,” he says simply. “Do you like him?” 

I nod yes, because even though I know I shouldn’t and that I’m pissed at him, I do still like him. 

“Do you want to be with him?” He then asks, and that one takes a moment for me to answer because it’s not as simple of an answer as the first. “Stop overthinking it and just go with what your heart says. Do you want to be with him?” 

“I don’t know him well enough to be able to answer that,” I explain, going for a copout. instead of actually answering. 

“Okay, fair enough,” he agrees. “Do you want to get to know him better? Differently than how you want to get to know me, Jax, and Dal?” 

I bite my lips together and avert my gaze once more, not wanting to admit or for him to see 

that my answer to that question is yes. It’s easier to be mad and tell him that I hate him. 

“You don’t have to answer, I think I already know. Just give it time. It will all work out,” he 

says, saving me from having to answer. Then he wraps his arm around my shoulder and leads 

me back to the rest of the group, “And in the meantime, as I said, we’ve got you back.” 

“It’s not just that,” I explain before we get back to the other three. 

“What else is it?” He asks, looking down at me as if he would beat the shit out of anyone 

who brought trouble my way. 

“I was just thinking about how I hope this all dies down soon because although I can handle the bullshit, I don’t want to have to. I want to enjoy my senior year. As I’m talking, we come to stand with the others, and I find myself feeling insecure as I finish saying, “And I don’t think my ass can take much more,” I mutter under my breath. 

“What’s wrong with your ass?” Boston asks, his brows furrowed in confusion. He looks like he wants to say something more but is holding himself back. 

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Chapter Twenty Five 

“It’s stupid,” I say with an eye–roll, “but Whitney made sure that the rest of the girls made practice hell yesterday, and my ass took the brunt of it, literally. It’s sore as hell today.” 

Boston’s breathing picks up, and he begins shaking his head, a dark look taking over his features, telling me that he’s going to interfere. “I can handle Whitney and her band of merry bitches, you leave them to me. I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.” 

“This is our fault,” he growls, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. 

“I disagree,” I tell him honestly. “I think she would have had it out for me regardless of whether you did anything or not. She’s friends with that Mallory chick, and since she wants you, and after yesterday, you made it clear that I was off–limits,” of which, I am now very much not comfortable with, I think to myself, “…it was bound to cause some tension.” I tell him, then glance at the others. “Just let me handle it.” 

“For now,” Lincoln agrees, not sounding any more pleased than his brother had. “We will let you handle it for now, but we will step in if it escalates.” 

I want to disagree, knowing that them stepping in will likely only make things worse, but I just keep my mouth shut and paste on a fake smile. 

Story Trailer: Even though Mallory tries to humiliate and hurt her, Aspen is stronger than she gives her credit for. The boys have caused a mess for Aspen, but even as life at Hawthorne High has been difficult at times, she always fights back, never giving in to those who want to see her 

fall.