Chapter 22: Obsessed

Kieran’s POV

I used to think obsession was dramatic, pathetic even, the kind of thing people exaggerated in movies before ruining their lives over somebody who probably wasn’t worth it, then Asher Carter happened and suddenly I understood why people lost their minds because I couldn’t stop looking at him and it was becoming a serious problem, not attraction, just awareness, like my brain had decided Asher Carter was now a threat requiring constant surveillance and that was the explanation I chose to live with, a stupid explanation but still better than the alternative.

“You’re staring again.”

I nearly slammed my locker shut on Landon’s face.

“I’m not.”

“You absolutely are.”

He leaned against the locker beside mine looking far too entertained for eight in the morning.

I grabbed my books aggressively.

“You’re hallucinating.”

“Kieran, you looked at Carter six times while opening one notebook.”

“That sounds impossible.”

“That’s because you’re disturbed.”

I shut my locker harder. Landon watched me carefully.

Then his expression changed slowly.

“ Yeah"

I already hated that tone. “What?”

“You like somebody.”

“No.”

“That was immediate.”

“Because it’s stupid.”

His grin widened. “You do.”

“I don’t.”

“You’re defensive.”

“I’m violent.”

“Same emotional category.”

I started walking before I strangled him.

Unfortunately, Landon followed Because apparently friendship meant psychological warfare.

“Who is she?”

“There is no she.”

“Damn.” He winced dramatically. “Rejected already?”

“I hate you.”

“You’re not telling me anything like usual.”

I ignored him. Mostly because he was right everything about me lately felt wrong mostly around Asher. I spotted him near the staircase talking to Daphne Sinclair and immediately my entire focus shifted without permision, daphne said something and Asher smirked slightly back, and there it was again that weird sharpness, that confidence, before the hospital Asher barely spoke above a mumble, he avoided attention like it physically hurt him, now he looked people directly in the eyes, now he argued back, now he walked around Crestwood like he was daring somebody to challenge him and somehow that change had completely wrecked my ability to function normally.

Landon followed my stare slowly then looked back at me then back at Asher.

“care to explain,” he said softly. Pure horror entered my bloodstream immediately.

“No there is nothing to say .”

“You’re staring at Carter.”

“I stare at everybody.”

“You looked ready to murder Daphne for talking with him.”

“That’s not true.”

“It’s a little truth in it at least.”

I wanted the earth to swallow me whole instead I shoved Landon into the lockers lightly before heading toward class, he laughed the entire way behind me, traitor.

Unfortunately avoiding Landon was easier than avoiding Asher because Asher Carter was suddenly everywhere, English class, hallways, cafeteria, practice, my thoughts, especially my thoughts.

I walked into class already irritated with myself when I noticed the only empty seat left was beside Asher, of course it was, he looked up when I sat down

“Morning, Hampton.” His voice sounded normal, mine didn’t.

“Morning.” I stared at my notebook aggressively for the next ten minutes trying not to think about his mouth, this was ruining my life.

Beside me Asher scribbled notes carelessly while tapping his pen against the desk, his sleeves were rolled slightly upward today, faint bruises marked his wrist, my stomach tightened immediately again.

I’d been noticing bruises constantly lately, wrists, shoulders, somebody touched him unexpectedly he flinched first before covering it, it bothered me more than it should’ve, a lot more.

“You okay?” The question left my mouth before I could stop it.

Asher blinked beside me.

“What?”

I gestured vaguely toward his wrist. “That.”

His expression changed instantly. “It’s nothing.”

“That doesn’t look like nothing.”

“do you know how nosy you sound now.” He rolled his eyes slightly and somehow that tiny reaction almost made me smile.

What the hell was wrong with me?

After class I escaped Unfortunately lunch made things worse.

Theo Mercer sat beside Asher again, laughing too easily, touching his shoulder while talking, and every single time Theo touched him something ugly twisted inside my chest, jealousy, which was insane, I wasn’t jealous, I just okay maybe I was a little jealous but not romantically, probably.

Landon dropped into the seat across from me carrying fries.

“Hey"

“I’m eating.”

“You’re glaring at Mercer like he owes you money.”

Theo leaned closer to Asher laughing at something quietly, Asher laughed back and suddenly I wanted violence.

Landon followed my stare then looked at me slowly.

“Oh, you got to have it that bad.”

“I’m straight.” The words came out too fast,

Landon blinked. “Kieran, nobody mentioned sexuality.”

Landon stared at me for a long moment before rubbing both hands over his face dramatically.

“This is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re spiraling over Asher Carter.”

“I’m not spiraling.”

“You rejected Emma Calloway yesterday.”

“That’s unrelated.”

“You forgot her name.” I shoved away from the table before Landon could continue emotionally assaulting me in public. walking towards the hallway my brain still kept replaying little things about Asher constantly, the way he argued now, the way he looked at people like he didn’t trust anybody, the way he carried anger beneath everything lately, and worst of all the way I kept wanting to protect him, that part made the least sense because before the hospital I barely thought about Asher Carter at all.

Now every instinct I had reacted to him automatically.

Practice that evening only confirmed I’d officially lost my mind.

Coach screamed about positioning while we ran drills repeatedly across the ice, I should’ve been focused, instead I kept checking where Asher stood near the benches organizing equipment every few seconds like I needed visual confirmation he was still there, it was ridiculous.

During scrimmage Beckett slammed Mason hard into the boards, the impact echoed violently, and near the benches Asher flinched, instinctive, like somebody expecting pain, the reaction hit me weirdly hard, something about it felt wrong,

“Kieran!”

Coach’s voice snapped across the rink. I realized too late everyone had stopped skating except me.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“You’ve missed three rotations.”

Practice finally ended an hour later.

Most of the team headed toward the locker rooms immediately but I stayed behind washing my face in the empty bathroom trying to reset my brain, cold water dripped from my jaw while I gripped the sink heavily, get it together.

A noise shifted faintly behind me, movement, I glanced up automatically toward the mirror and froze.

The bathroom across the hallway stood partially open just enough for the reflection to catch movement inside, Asher stood there with his back partially turned lifting his shirt slightly, my brain stopped functioning immediately.

Bandages wrapped tightly around his chest, bruises marked pale skin beneath them, his hands adjusted the fabric quickly like he was trying to hide something, then suddenly he stiffened like he sensed someone looking, the shirt dropped instantly, door slammed shut, silence.

I stared at my reflection breathing hard. Something about what I saw felt deeply wrong.

Confusion crawled slowly through my chest while my pulse hammered violently and standing there alone in that hallway I realized something terrifying.