I honestly don't know how to feel. Am I happy? Am I upset? Do I actually like Ashton or do I like the fact that he pushes my buttons until I wanna hug him to death?
I sigh at my thoughts, Ashton looks at me with concern. I'm met with his eyes, his hand is resting on my shoulder now. He gives me a reassuring smile, though his knees are shaking so rapidly the table shakes with him.
"Is everything alright Camilla? Do you need anything? I'll be sure to get it for you if you need it."
I feel bad for Ash. He's been nothing but an angel and I can't help but feel like Satan in his hands.
"Ash. I know I act like a douchy princess who acts like I need to be spoiled, but it doesn't mean you actually have to treat me like I am," I say, returning the smile. This night is turning out to be a little harder than I expected. I just don't want Ashton to know the real me. Or at least the me that become existent as of the moment Ash and I began this relationship. It's hard to be nice all the time. Someone as giggly as Ashton probably found it impossible to be around someone who always frowned, like myself, but he seems more committed to this than I am and it makes me feel really bad. Yeah, we've had nice talks. I talk a lot. He talks a lot. He's a nice person to talk to. His accent is music to my ears and his hugs feel like a rainbow, but each moment I'm with him, I'm wasting time that could be spent on practicing my routine for the next contest.
It's just for this tour... I tell myself.
"Have I told you how happy I am that you've agreed to go out with me?" Ashton tells me holding his hands in mine. I can feel them tense, as do mine. "I'm glad I agreed." My voice cracks at the last word. I smile gently at the bandana'd boy, who smiles back, basically summarizing this whole night. Lot's of smiling, small talk and ice cream.
We choose to leave the ice cream parlor after getting our treats. Ashton let me choose tonight's events and he was surprised that I didn't pick a fancy, stuck up restaurant. I know he says he doesn't think I'm a priss, but he keeps going back to the idea of it and it's a bit offensive, I mean, I'm not continuously bringing up the fact his band resembles a small chorus of monkeys, so maybe he can back off the diva press?
Ashton and I find ourselves at the playscape across the street. Smart for an ice cream place to locate itself so close to a child's habitat.
"A seat for m'lady?" Ashton coos in a lame french accent, motioning towards the seat of the swing.
"No thanks Ashton, I think I'll pass on swings."
He groans childish at me, flailing his ice cream free arm around. "Oh come on Camilla! I wanna be cute and push you on the swings while you eat your ice cream and laugh and have a good time."
"Ashton, it's fine really. You don't have to try so hard to impress me. If you hadn't, you'd be on the tour bus with Amanda, bored out of your mind."
"Still jealous of her I see? We're just friends, no biggie."
"I wasn't jealous and I'm still not!" I stomp my feet in protest, turning away from him with a pout. Annoyed, I begin to walk towards the plaza where the ice cream parlor was located. Before I can even take half a step, Ashton's large hand clamps onto my shoulder.
"Wait. Don't go. I'm sorry. I really like you and I say stupid things."
The thought of walking out of this date was tempting, but it's Ashton. I have to discover what I feel for him and walking out would just make the rest of the tour awkward. Especially if I'm his bunk mate.
I sigh, and turn myself around. He smiles widely at me, embracing me in a hug. This would have been a sticky mess if he hadn't set the ice creams down, which I'm grateful for. "You're such a cliche, Irwin," I giggle into his chest.
He gives me a kiss on my forehead, then resting his chin on my head, still not letting go. The hug is longer than it should be, but it was a nice feeling being so close to his, as much as I'd hate to admit it. I liked the feeling, the feeling of warmth, protection and security. It's the same feeling I get when I'm dancing.
Ashton finally lets go to pull me to the swings. "Please? It'll be the perfect ending to our night," he pleads at me.
Hesitant, I agree anyways to make him happy. He cheers, awaiting for me to get onto the seat. When I get on, he starts pushing me high enough that t felt like I was flying and for the rest of the night we laugh and sang and told each other more stupid stories while our ice creams melted. Ashton even let me try to push him, which was impossible since he was a six foot tall dork. When it got late, Ashton decided that we should go and get new ice creams and so we did. The night had it's awkward moments and I still feel awkward about the whole us situation, but for now I guess I'll just chill with it.