The Boiling Point | ✔️

28 | jealous

ASHTON

"Oof, someone's off their game tonight." Janice picks up my tip jar, shaking around the severely lacking contents. "Need a pep talk, champ?"

I snatch the jar back. "It's been a slow night."

She hums, surveying the bustling theater. "Yeah it's a real ghost town on Fridays, isn't it?"

I thump the jar in place, holding my glare as she returns to her side of the concession stand. I'd like to claim my tips are suffering because I'm not making the effort to earn them, but actually, Janice is kind of, sort of, totally right. I'm distracted. As I have been, ever since I first caught sight of Summer Rose Westley.

She might have dropped the magnet that initially pulled me towards her, but now it's out of her control. It's cosmic. Otherworldly. I'm uselessly fighting against these thoughts. Summer, on her date, Grant's hands grazing her golden skin. Erasing any trace of my existence.

I rub at the knot in my neck, a tension-filled invasion refusing to loosen. It grows bigger, tightening, twisting around my throat like a relentless snake. I forcefully shake my head, attempting to shake off the unwelcome thoughts, exhaling a frustrated breath. At least they're with Lola and Steven. With those two around, I convince myself it's all going to stay PG-13. Maybe a kiss, at most.

A single, fleeting connection between them. Grant's lips against Summer's, holding her so close it takes her breath away, leaving her craving more. The mere image sends a jolt through me, and my fingers clench at the edge of the counter, hit with an overwhelming urge to rip it clean off. 

God, when did I become this guy? Sure, I've envied people's families, houses, money, but this jealousy – this bitch of an all-consuming monster – it's taken me to an entirely different level. One I've never reached before. It's irrational, unbearable, and a goddamn form of torment.

I clock a girl I went to high school with walking over. I think she was a year below me, maybe she sat next to me at a basketball game once. Familiar enough to remember. I glance at my pathetic tip jar. I should be trying to rake in double the usual amount. Since my dad gets it all now, he'll think I'm skimming off the top if I don't deliver.

She flashes a pretty smile. "Hi, Ashton."

Pull it together.

"Hey..." Damn, what's her name? Tara? Sara? "... you."

"Maddie."

"I know, Maddie. What can I get you, Maddie?" I give her a self-deprecating grin and she giggles, placing her order.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" she says when I hand over her bucket of popcorn.

"Shoot."

"Is Clocul really as great as everyone says? I'm thinking about applying, but I'm weighing up the pros and cons first."

"Pros and cons, huh?" I rest on the counter, closely looking her over. "What've you got so far?"

"Well, for pros, it's one of the best culinary schools in the country, close to home... and it doesn't hurt to have someone with experience showing me the ropes when I get there."

"Hm, have to disagree with that last one."

A wave of disappointment washes over her face. "Oh."

I lean in, dropping my voice just above a whisper. "If I'm showing you any ropes, I can't promise they're not going to hurt with the way I use them."

She glows, averting her shining eyes from mine. "Oh."

"And who knows, maybe I'll have time to show you around the school, too," I say, watching her take out her purse. "How's that pro sounding?"