Page 53 of Scrimmage

Holy fuck. I’ve never met someone more annoying.

“Fucking stop,” I snap.

Penny and Alexi burst into laughter as Ashland pouts. “Man, I had about three more really good annoying sounds to make.”

They chatter through the rest of the first hour. Once Ashland goes silent, I glance in her direction, worried she may have fallen from the fucking car. Her eyes are closed with her head resting against the seatbelt, asleep. I wasn’t even sure it was possible that she slept, but I guess I’ve never been in the position to see it. She looks innocent.

By hour two, they’re all asleep. We go over a pot hole and Ashland jolts awake, slamming her hand over her mouth. She had screamed at the library that day when I had interrupted her, but it seems like she’s stifling it. Her eyes dart around wildly, trying to figure out her surroundings.

“Ashland." She looks at me with wide fearful eyes. “We just went over a pothole. It’s fine.”

She regains her composure to something that resembles being unbothered, as if she didn’t just wake up in a frenzy. She glances around, seeing that the other two are asleep, then rubs her eyes. “How far?”

“About an hour.” All she does is nod. “You can go back to sleep or whatever.”

“Why? So you can watch me?”

I grip the steering wheel. “I’m not fucking watching you. I’m just trying to be polite.”

“Well, don’t.”

I can’t help myself. “So who's your situationship?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The guy you’re dating or whatever.”

“I don’t…Are you trying to make small talk or something? Don’t.”

“So it’s true?”

“Who the fuck cares if it is or isn’t, Chance?”

“I told you not to fucking call me that.” I turn off of the main road winding through the hills on the backroads that lead to the actual property.

“Can you just, like, slow down a little bit?”

“I figured you would be a pedal to the floor type.”

“We’re on winding roads. They’re fucking dangerous. I do value my life.” I slow down to the speed limit, and she seems to relax. “Since I’m sure you won’t let it go, I don’t have a situationship. Don’t stress. Your moral compass is pointing north.”

If she doesn’t, then who the fuck was Alexi talking about?

“Neither do I,” I offer.

“Don’t care. Give me my phone.”

I forgot I even had it. I hand it over, and she invests herself in it, scrolling aimlessly. I’ve tried to find Ashland on social media, and she doesn’t exist.

“What are you looking at?”

She rolls her eyes into the back of her head. I’m surprised they don’t get stuck there. “Reading a fucking book. Do I need to ask you for permission?”

“You read?” It shouldn’t be surprising. She loves all of that ancient shit, and she seems pretty smart. For some reason it still feels out of character.

“Yeah, I’m disassociating and pretending I’m not stuck in this car with you.” She sits crisscross in her seat.

“Where’s your sketchbook?”

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