Love Me Later

Revisit The Past

SIX YEARS AGO

My mind drifted back to the events from six years ago.

He was twenty-eight and I was sixteen.

Ashton Greene is basically just 10 years younger than my parents. His family has been friends with mine even before I was born. My earliest memory of Ashton was when I was about 3 or 4 years old.

Ashton lives across the country and only comes to stay with us every once in a while. We sometimes spend our family vacation at his home too. Every time he comes, he always has a gift for me. On the tag, he always writes, "For baby Tasha."

We used to be close until I turned 16. That's when things suddenly became awkward between us. I remember that afternoon when I came home from school. No one told me that Ashton was coming that day to stay a few days with us. As I reached the living room, I saw him sitting on the sofa, with a guitar in his hand. He looked rugged in his gray cotton shirt and torn pants. I loved how he tied his long, wavy hair in a man-bun. His husky voice filled the room as he sang to Dashboard Confessional's Stolen. I noticed how he slightly tilted his head to the side, as his fingers strummed the strings of his guitar. Right then, the moment touched something in me that I could not fathom.

I got a little startled when I realized he already felt my presence. My gaze met his blue eyes.

"Ah, finally. My baby arrives."

I felt blood rush to my cheeks.

Why does the word 'baby' suddenly feel different?

"What now, huh? I can't call you my baby now?" He teased me by nudging his elbow to my side. Then he pulled me in for a playful hug. I can't tell if I was relieved or sad when he finally let me go. My heart started to thump crazily against my chest.

Then he handed me the guitar. Sweat started to form in my hands as I started to feel uneasy and hesitant. But I took the guitar from his hand anyway. He led me to sit on the sofa before he sat next to me. I felt his left hand brushing across my shoulder as he positioned my fingers on the fingerboard. Then he grabbed my other hand as he taught me the proper way to strum.

I did not understand a single word he said. All I could think of was his masculine scent that wafted into my nose. I felt dizzy as the whirlwind of emotions ran through me. Confused, I got up abruptly. I excused myself and went straight to my room.

I heard Ashton calling out to me, but I was too embarrassed to go back. I am aware that something is going on with me, but I do not understand what it is. Or maybe I do understand, but I just want to accept it.

I decided to just lay in my bed and stay in my room. I can still hear Ashton strumming on his guitar and singing random songs.

What is this? Is he having a concert or something?

Ashton sings so well, it feels like I am being transported somewhere else. When he started to play another song, that's when I decided to climb out of bed and focus my attention on something else. I walked to my study table. I turned on the computer and thought about sending a message to my friends in our group chat. But my mind just went blank.

What am I going to tell them?

I have been staring at my screen, but I do not know where to start. In the living room, Ashton is now doing a cover of The Calling's Wherever You Will Go. I leaned my back on the chair and closed my eyes. My thoughts brought me to a few months back almost automatically.

I think it all started on my 16th birthday. The party was close to over and I didn't have any sight of Ashton. I was confused when the lights dimmed and the DJ played So Close from the movie Enchanted.

Then from the crowd, a semi-disheveled Ashton came out. He got a stem of a red rose in between his teeth as he was still buttoning the pale blue shirt that he left tucked out of his jeans.

"Sorry, I am late." He extended his right hand toward me and handed me the rose.

He pulled me up from my seat as soon as I laid my hand on his. Then he pulled me close to him, letting his left hand rest on my waist. The beat of the music wasn't exactly slow. It's like the DJ is playing a remix version or something. Ashton kept on twirling me around and then pulling me in. The steps felt almost awkward. But he laughed. I giggled. Happiness fills us.

At one point, I looked up at him. The first thing I noticed was the small strip of plaster on his chin. My hand automatically touched it.

"It's uneven, I know," Ashton murmured against my cheeks.

"What?" I moved my face away so I could read his lips.

"I hadn't shaved for weeks. I did it quickly before I came here." Ashton ran his hand to his chin and then he smiled sheepishly. "I don't want to look too old for this dance.

Ashton is right. He looks only about four years older than me without his beard. I nodded. Ashton kept on cracking jokes as we danced and I kept on smiling and laughing at them. When the song was about to end, he whispered something in my ear. And Ashton said it. At about the same time, the DJ switched the music to something louder and more upbeat. I am not sure if I heard him right, but it's something about keeping someone waiting.

Whatever he said has bugged me since that night. And I regretted it so much that I got too shy to clarify what he said.

Did he simply say sorry if he kept me waiting? No. I'm sure he meant he was the one waiting.

Maybe it was the romantic ambiance. Maybe it was music. Maybe it was the sound of his endless laughter ringing in my head. Maybe it was a strange feeling when he held me in his arms. Maybe it was all of those things.

The memory lingers. Since that night, I have been thinking about what he could have said. Unconsciously, I had been assuming and daydreaming about him confessing to me. And whenever I think I could be wrong and realize it's inappropriate, I dismiss the thoughts right away.

Ashton did not stay that night as he used to. I guess that added to my confusion. It was like he was the last to arrive at the party but also the first one to leave. To make things more bizarre, his texts became less frequent too. It feels like the more I wanted to reach out to him, the more he builds an imaginary barrier between us.

And then just like that, without saying anything, he is here in our house. He is there in the living room, all dashing, strumming his guitar, and playing the songs that I love.

Is it just me? Was I overthinking?

A scream from downstairs brought me back to the present. The voice sounded like some teenager gushing over a K-Pop idol.

Who was that?

I pushed my chair towards the door to listen, but the wheels got stuck in something. The force made me fall forward to my knees.

"Ouch!"

"Hey, honey? Are you okay?" I heard my mom coming from the stairs. Soon enough, she was at my door.

I crawled my way up and opened the door to let my mom in.

"Hi, mom! Yeah. I'm fine. Why did you ask?" I didn't realize I was bending forward and rubbing my knees.

"Well, Ashton is downstairs. Have you seen him?"

"Ah, yeah. I saw Ashton a while ago. I just had to do something, so I have been here in my room."

"Are you sick? You look a little flustered." She felt my forehead.

"No, mom. I'm fine." I turned my head away.

"Are you sure?" She still looked worried.

"Yup." I stretched my lips into a forced smile.

"Okay. Dinner will be ready in a while. Come down a bit, okay? And you might want to change clothes. We have a guest."

I looked at her confusedly.

Ah, right. I heard a woman scream earlier.