July 2023 - Side Story (Patreon)
Content
Hey guys 👋 Here's the side story for the month!
The scenario for this story is Ash's POV of the fight with the bullies in Chapter 1, but I have gone a bit beyond that and added some extra scenes before that! The story ends up being 2.7K words long.
I hope you guys enjoy the story and in the meantime, I'll work on the spicy side story next! 🥰
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You tap the pen in your hand against the open notebook in front of you restlessly as your eyes keep glancing over to the clock. There are around 15 more minutes till lunch break but right now, it feels like forever.
With the teacher droning on and on about math formulas that you know for sure you won’t be using once you graduate high school, every minute feels like an hour. It’s the reverse of whenever you spend time with Sasha, where hours feel like mere seconds. If only it were the other way around.
In a last-ditch effort to pass the time, your mind wanders to the plans you and Sasha have made for the day. After all, today is a special day; it’s Sasha’s tenth birthday and a Friday as well! The two of you have been looking forward to this day for a couple of weeks.
The itinerary starts with going to the comic book and games store after school, going to get ice cream, maybe going to the arcades, and getting dinner with Uncle Viktor, your mom, and Uncle Luka—if he’s free later on. Uncle Viktor has promised to buy Sasha a new video game as a present, and you can’t wait to spend the rest of the evening playing it with Sasha.
The sounds of books being closed bring you out of your reverie. The class is finally ending! You check the clock and it seems the teacher has decided to release all of you five minutes early. Thank God!
Not wasting another second, you quickly open your backpack and shove your notebook, textbook, and your few pens and pencils in haphazardly. The teacher says something about homework over the weekend, but you couldn’t care less about it and you make your way to the door without so much as a backward glance.
Slinging your backpack on one shoulder, you swiftly stride towards Sasha’s classroom. You have memorized their schedule and you’ve done this for as long as you can remember.
As you arrive, you take a quick peek through the little window on the door and immediately, your eyes snap to the familiar locks of hair. You’ve come to know them so well that not only could you identify them from behind easily, but you could also picture their face clearly in your head even in sleep.
That’s totally normal, right? Knowing someone like the back of your own hand is only natural when you’ve spent most of your waking hours with them.
It seems like Sasha’s class is also ending, and you see them organize their stuff neatly before putting it inside their backpack gently, so as not to accidentally fold or crease any of the books’ pages. You admire their patience.
You quickly turn away from the window as you see them—and a stream of other students—begin to move toward the door. You stand to the side and try to play it cool, arms crossed casually as you lean against the nearest locker.
A few seconds later, Sasha walks out and as soon as they catch sight of you, they smile. It’s a genuine and happy smile that lights up their face and never fails to lighten up your mood as well. A smile that you hope is only meant for you, you think as you feel your heart beat faster.
“Hey, Ash!” they chirp. “I hope you haven’t waited for too long.”
“Nah, don’t worry,” you wave their concern away as the two of you start walking side by side toward the cafeteria. “So, are you excited for today?”
“Yeah!” they beam at you. “Although, I still haven’t decided on whether to pick ‘Duty Calls’ or ‘Field of Battle’ for the present… Or maybe ‘Grand Auto Larceny’ is better? What do you think, Ash?”
“Well, it’s your gift. What would you prefer to play?” you ask back.
“But you’ll be playing it too, so I want to make sure it’s a game you like as well,” they reply.
Ah, Sasha’s thoughtfulness for you and others never fails to make you blush. “Well, if you want to know my opinion…”
The two of you continue talking about video games until you finally reach your destination. The spacious cafeteria is already starting to get pretty crowded with students of all ages and still, more and more students stream in all around you. But thankfully, the table that you and Sasha usually sit in is still empty—and it will remain so except for the two of you until lunch is over.
You both head there and you drop your bag onto the bench. “Hey Sasha, I’ll go grab us some food. You just wait here.”
“But…”
“Nuh-uh,” you interject, grinning cheekily, “You’re the birthday kid today, and it won’t do for you to stand in queue just to grab lunch. Just leave it to me and try not to worry too much.”
They smile, “Okay… Thanks, Ash!” They slide onto the bench across from yours and starts rummaging through their backpack as you stride over to the line.
The line is already pretty long and only gets longer every few seconds. You sigh inwardly at the sight. You hate waiting in line, but you hate making Sasha uncomfortable even more, especially during their birthday, so you’ll suck it up.
You get in line, trying to block out the loud sounds of the girls in front of you conversing, giggling, and laughing. At least the line is moving at what you consider to be a moderate pace, but still too slow to your liking.
Your waiting is cut off, however, by a commotion somewhere. Most of the students in the line turn to see what it’s all about, including you. You see a group of students circling around your table.
Oh, hell no… You stomp out of the line and toward the table, shouldering your way through the sea of students gathering, and as soon as a few of them see you, they quickly scamper out of your way. It’s both a source of shame and pride that you have seemingly built a reputation in the entire school for being a problematic student that would not hesitate to beat you up if they so much as glance at you the wrong way.
Of course, it’s a bit exaggerated, but there are also truths in it, you suppose.
The sight makes your blood freeze—if that’s even possible. A boy is holding Sasha’s notebook far above his head, laughing with his dogs. At first, you don’t really recognize the boy before you finally remember that he’s the school’s annoying rich boy. What’s his name again…? Something Whitaker. It won’t matter soon.
Sasha tries to reach and grab it, before finally giving up and just standing there with teary eyes. They are such a kind person that you don’t understand why anyone would have the heart to do this to them. Seeing someone so precious to you makes your blood boil and your vision turns red. You’re this close to just pouncing on his back—
“What’s wrong? Your dog isn’t here to defend you right now? Boo-hooo…” Whitaker taunts, making a crying motion with his hand and then cackling out loud.
Oh, you’re the dog, here? Ironic for his followers to join the laughter, considering they are the same. Some of his more attentive cronies seem to finally notice your presence, and they slowly back away, eying you warily as if you’re a wild animal. But his insult is nothing compared to what he’s doing to Sasha right now.
“Well, the dog is here now, Whitaker,” you growl and you see his body tense. “Now, since I was in a good mood before you showed your ugly mug, I'll give you a chance to return Sasha’s notebook nicely and beg for their forgiveness, and maybe I'll let you go with only a black eye this time.”
You can’t see his face yet, but from his body language alone, it’s easy to surmise that he’s anxious. He gives a quick and cursory glance at his friends around him, probably to silently ask for support, but they’re all watching him to see how he’s going to react next.
His pride is on the line, and it seems he realizes this too because as soon as he turns, he makes the wrong decision. “And what if I don’t want to, Flynn?” he challenges instead.
You grin, “Good. I'd hoped you'd say that.”
You decide to seize the first move and before any of them can react, you sucker-punch Whitaker hard right in the face. The feeling of his nose breaking under your fist is so satisfying, but it is far from enough for him to repay what he did to Sasha. You don’t even know what would be enough, but you suppose you’ll figure it out along the way.
Whitaker drops on the ground like a sack of flour and you don’t intend to let him get up. Without wasting another second, you leap and get on top of him, before starting to rain more punches on him. You manage to get in some hits before he seemingly snaps out of his daze—at least enough to cover his face with his arms.
It’s no problem; you have some ideas on how to break through. But before you can try it out, you feel a weight on your back and a pair of hands trying to drag you away. Snarling, you half-turn to deal with his annoying dogs, still not getting off. Outstretching your right hand, you unleash a wave of fire in hopes of driving them back and scaring them away.
Maybe it’s because of your agitated state, but the flame turns out to be more vicious than you first planned it to be as it catches one of the cronies’ uniforms and it won’t extinguish easily even as he rolls around on the floor desperately. Well, that’s too bad, but that would surely be enough to stop the others from trying to stop you now.
Without sparing another glance at the burning student, you turn back to Whitaker, who’s still shielding his face in fear. Good, that means more fun for you. Focusing on the heat in your fingertips, you bring your hands down to his forearms. Your glowing red hands quickly sear through the flimsy fabric of his sleeves and onto his bare skin.
The sound of the sizzling combined with his scream of agony is like music to your ear. Your smile widens and grip even harder and watch in satisfaction as his skin starts to smoke. The smell of burning flesh is making your stomach growl as it reminds you of steaks.
Damn, he really should have waited until you and Sasha already have your lunch before picking a fight.
“Ash! Stop it! Please!” you hear a familiar voice calls out to you through the haze before followed by a pair of smaller hands on your shoulder, trying to tug you away from Whitaker.
You growl. Fuck, not another one… They’ve got a death wish or something? Turning around, you snarl at whoever is stupid enough to stop you again—
Wait, it’s… It’s Sasha! They yelp and jump back and away from you quickly, pulling their hands to their chest and their eyes wide in terror, and to your own dawning horror, you realize that they’re afraid of you.
And that is confirmed because next, they whimper, “Please Ash, you’re scaring me.” The plea is spoken in a soft and trembling voice, almost no louder than a whisper, but it’s enough to immediately snap you out of… whatever state you were in; it feels like someone just doused you with freezing water.
Letting go of Whitaker’s arms, you get on your feet as quickly as you can. You notice a movement in your peripheral vision but turns out, it’s only Whitaker pathetically dragging himself on the floor in an attempt to get away from you as far as possible, face white with shock. You give him one last glare, mouth twisting in disgust before you make your way to Sasha.
They’re still cradling their right hand to their chest, and your heart sinks lower as the thought that you might have accidentally hurt them enters your mind.
“Sasha, are you okay?” you ask nervously, reaching out your hand as you get closer to them. “I—I didn’t accidentally…” You can’t even finish the sentence, fearing the answer you would hear.
Sasha jolts and instinctively leans away from you, and that is more painful than any insults or punches ever thrown your way. You immediately freeze in place; you feel sick like you’re going to throw up.
You just threw years worth of friendship down the drain. Sasha is going to see you like how everyone else sees you. A monster. And they’re going to hate you, and they wouldn’t want to be your friends anymore, and you’ll be alone again.
You can’t even blame Sasha for hating them this time. You probably just ruined their special day and you just burnt a guy’s arms in front of them. Ruining things… That has always been the only thing you’re good at, right?
“I’m sorry…” you say quietly, and that’s all you can say right now. And you hope it would somehow be enough for the distress you’ve caused them.
Sasha looks shaken, but their kind eyes are clearly sad and worried too—for you. They shake their head softly and open their mouth to finally speak, and you feel your heart flutter in hopefulness.
But whatever they were going to say is cut off as the double doors to the cafeteria are thrown open with a loud bang, making the two of you jolt in place. The school nurse rushes past you and Sasha and crouches down by Ronald, immediately getting to healing the burns.
Unfortunately, it’s not only the nurse who arrives. Principal Monroe, flanked by two of the school bodyguards, strides directly toward you, her scowl evident in her usually stoic face.
“Ash Flynn. You have a lot of explaining to do,” she says coldly, her eyes glancing at Ronald for a second before shifting back to you. Her stare is sharp and pierces through you.
She’s a scary woman, and you’d be lying if you say you’re not a little bit intimidated by her. But still, you put on a tough face, not wanting to be seen cowering in front of her. You open your mouth to answer her, but she silences you with a wave of her hand.
“No. Not here. You’ll explain everything to me in front of your mother, Ronald, and his parents in my office.”
Your eyes widen at what she just said. Shit, of course, your mom would be called in as well. No, no… She will totally ground you for this. But certainly, she would still let you celebrate Sasha’s birthday, right? The two of you already have the whole day planned in front of you! Ronald getting beat up is supposed to be nothing more than a minor bump.
She turns to the security officers beside her, gesturing in your direction. “Please, escort them to the detention room for now while I call all the parents of those involved.”
Oh no… Does this mean Sasha would get in trouble as well? They’re supposed to be the victim here!
The two security guards step forward and reach out to grab you, but you step out of their reach. “I can walk on my own. Thank you.”
Without another word, you stomp your way toward the cafeteria doors, kicking them open roughly. You’re still in a bad mood and you’re angry and irritated at everything and everyone… Except for Sasha, who you still feel guilty and nervous about. What were they about to say back there? Maybe Principal Monroe’s intervention is a blessing because it delays Sasha’s answer. But also, it’s a curse because, once again, your thought is an anxious mess as you can’t help but picture and speculate how the talk with Sasha would have gone—and how it will go later on once this whole thing with Whitaker is done.
Your only hope is that Sasha would forgive you and everything would return to the way it was for the two of you.