He was only sixteen.

From looking at his face that much was obvious, and yet, Ashley had a maturity about him that was beyond his years. It wasn’t just in how he spoke, but also in his manner of dress. The boy looked at himself in his closet’s mirror, neatly setting aside his black fringe with a comb. Not a hair out of place, and never obscuring his vision. He already couldn’t see that well as it was, an issue he had since the age of seven, which prompted him to always wear glasses. Placing the toothy plastic object on his bedside table, Ashley then readjusted the buttons on his crimson sweater vest and pulled it down, straightening out any wrinkles. He exhaled, eyes flickering over his entire reflection.

There. Perfect.

Ashley sauntered about his modest bedroom. It was always as neat and tidy as his appearance, something many would consider an anomaly for a teenage male. He gravitated towards the desk in the corner, where a book on mindfulness laid open, the pages filled with timeless wisdom. When the long days were over, Ashley often liked to immerse himself in its teachings. It helped him through a lot in his life.

He wanted to stay there and just read, but alas, he had places to be that Saturday morning. His destination was right next door, at the very least. Back to Hunter’s house, the place he had been to only once so far, since they did most of the work in class. Mr. Thompson, although a nice-enough man on the outside, must have been some kind of sadist, because during each class he kept adding on to the project, making it take much longer than necessary to complete. It was like dangling a fish before a cat; almost there, but not quite. It meant that Ashley would have to work alongside the delinquent known as Hunter just a bit longer…and then another bit longer. And honestly, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it anymore.

If someone asked him what his thoughts were just a few days prior, Ashley would have given them a flat, yet still somehow menacing, stare. Hunter was indeed his total opposite, a fact that only became more cemented in truth every time the two boys spoke. He was arrogant, lazy, and more enthusiastic about stupidities like fighting games than his education.

However, Ashley now found himself having a hard time maintaining the image of Hunter as nothing but a nuisance. When the blond demonstrated his remarkable singing, while also playing the guitar better than Ashley could ever dream to, something felt…different, even if it was just for a fleeting moment. Despite all his intelligence, even Ashley couldn’t place it.

Glancing beyond his window, he took notice of Hunter’s bedroom. The tattered old blinds were drawn, which appeared to be his usual. Ashley, on the other hand, preferred to have his curtains open during most hours, something that contrasted with his generally private persona. His brain clicked, a strange, intrusive thought entering his mind.  

Did Hunter ever see him, and he didn’t notice? Including…when he was changing?

He paused.

“What am I even thinking?”     

Chastising himself for having such a foolish idea, Ashley rolled his eyes and shook his head. He exited the room, grabbing hold of his backpack full of the same vintage encyclopedias he’d brought to Hunter’s place before. With a click he shut the door, leaving behind his haven for now.

                                                                                       ****

As he descended the stairs, Ashley took notice of the serene atmosphere that filled the home. It could typically only mean one thing.

He traversed the final step and went to scan the living room, briefly. Empty. Okay.

The sound of a knife clacking down against a wooden cutting board shook Ashley out of his thoughtful state. His mother was busy in the kitchen, chopping vegetables with focused precision. She divided nearly each piece of the carrot perfectly, and discarded any that did wind up looking unsightly. With a careful approach so as not to startle the woman holding a dangerously sharp instrument, Ashley began softly.

“Mom,” Ashley called out as he made his way into the kitchen.

His mother glanced up, offering a small nod. "Hello, Ashley. Where are you going?"

“Next door,” Ashley answered plainly, but then cleared his throat. “I’m going to continue working on the history project I mentioned to you last week.”

“I see. Thank you for letting me know,” she replied, setting the knife down with a faint, fleeting smile. There was a distant air about her, an aura that hinted at preoccupations beyond the room. “That reminds me, how is school going, overall?”

"It’s fine, I suppose. Nothing stands out too much as a positive or negative." Ashley responded with a slight shrug. It wasn’t a lie; school was school. He went, worked hard, and left. Despite being in a new town that was on the shoddy side, nothing was much different from his old school. At least, not until the last class of the day.

“And this project with our neighbor? How is it going?” She questioned. Her tone held a mild curiosity, but there was an underlying sense of detachment.

Ashley stopped to ponder for a moment, wanting to choose his words carefully. What could he say about Hunter, anyway?

“That is fine as well. My partner is…different, but we’re making progress.”

His mother nodded in acknowledgment, not pressing further. She turned back to the vegetables below her and continued chopping. “As long as he's not causing trouble. Do not allow him, or anyone, to interfere with your academic standing.”

“Yes,” Ashley replied, glancing away. He would take the details of his heated interactions and struggles with Hunter to his grave before involving his mother. Not that she had much time to be involved, anyway. The woman did what she could to be part of Ashley’s life, but she was also a nurse practitioner, still paying off medical school loans and doing her best to help make ends meet by working infinite hours.

She used to have much more time, but not any longer.

Glancing at the bright, blue sky through the kitchen window, Ashley’s eyes then fell onto the home’s driveway. Only one car sat there, his mother’s car, just as he’d presumed while coming down the stairs.

“It’s still early.” Ashley uttered, in a quiet tone. “What time did Dad leave?”

“A few hours ago,” came the curt reply, accompanied by a hint of weariness. “He didn’t say when he will be back.”

“Is he…out looking for work?” Ashley ventured cautiously.

It was a fragile topic. His father was a fragile topic.

His mother nodded tersely. “Yes, he's trying.” A certain weight hung in the air. The middle-aged woman ran a palm against her long black hair, replacing any potentially out of place strands. She always looked just as immaculate as Ashley did, and took pride in her appearance, even when just at home. “We both are. We’re going to figure things out, don’t worry, Ashley.”

The teen shifted uncomfortably where he stood and gripped his backpack’s strap, a knot of concern tightening in his chest. He understood what she was communicating and how heavy it was, but tried to find solace in his mother's words. “I know, Mom. I just wish I could do more to help.”

She glanced at him, a mixture of gratitude, worry, and the usual hint of sternness in her eyes. “You're doing enough, Ashley. The biggest concern is that you maintain your dedication to your studies. That is your ticket. Focus on that, and we will handle the rest.”

Ashley nodded, albeit reluctantly. His mother was as resolute and, on most days, unemotional as he was. Thankfully, she was still the easier of his parents to speak to.

With a small turn on his heel, Ashley began towards the front door, only to be interrupted by his mother’s voice, calling his name one more time. He peeked back into the kitchen, curious.

“About your father.” 

She continued gently, noticing the renewed discomfort on her son’s face. “Please, try to be patient. He's trying, in his own way. Let's give him the space he needs to sort things out. It's a difficult time for all of us.”

“…I’ll try.” Ashley nearly whispered, after a moment of hesitation.

With one last weak smile of acknowledgment, his mother let him go, returning to her precise food preparation. Ashley took off in a bit of a rush from there, realizing that he was now late for his session with Hunter, letting the door close behind him.

Upon reaching the adjacent house, Ashley’s gaze briefly lingered back to his own. He felt his shoulders tense for a second, but let them drop again. With a deep exhale through his nose and a shake of his head, the boy tried to eliminate the thoughts weighing uncomfortably on his mind.

Don’t think about it.

He straightened up, regained his composure, and knocked on the door before him.