With nothing more to really say, we both stood up and I walked him to the door. Right before he opened it to leave, Dylan turned around and hugged me. “I hope Ash is smart enough one day to go after what his heart really wants. Until then, take care of yourself and promise me you won’t get involved with any douchebags,” he whispered in my ear and kissed my cheek. I laughed and I felt truly content with the way things were ending with Dylan.

“I promise.”

I found myself sitting in my dorm alone on a Saturday night with no plans and no way of getting anywhere even if I did; it was eerily similar to the way I had spent the first eighteen and a half years of Saturdays in my life. With Evie gone and Dylan out of the picture, I wasn’t sure who to even contact about making plans. I didn’t even have Mina’s or Jess’ numbers, Evie always took care of making our plans with them. I opened the contacts section of my phone and found I only had two other numbers besides family members: Ash and Mason.

As much as I wanted to, I definitely wasn’t calling or texting Mason after spending the entire previous night with him. It was up to him to contact me; the last thing I wanted to come off as was clingy or desperate. I contemplated whether or not I should message Ash; I had never initiated a texting conversation with him mainly for the same reasons I didn’t want to do the same to Mason. My grandmother had always told me when I was younger, “Never chase after a boy, Scarlett. You let them chase you.” I felt like I was chasing them both in a way as it was, I didn’t need to blow up their phones to emphasize the fact.

I hadn’t heard from Ash since I walked off the stage and practically out the door of the bar. I guessed that he either didn’t care if I made it home okay this time or he assumed I wasn’t going home or maybe both. For the life of me, I could not figure him out. I also wanted to yell at him about his stunt calling me out the way he had done. I wasn’t really mad at him any longer, if his goal had been to piss off Mason, it had quite the opposite effect. I probably owed him a thank you.

I really didn’t want to spend the rest of the night by myself, so I swallowed my pride and hoped he would respond.

Me (7:55 PM) You going to J & N’s tonight?

Luckily, he didn’t make me wait long.

Ash (7:58 PM) Was planning on it. You going with Dylan or Evie?

Me (8:00 PM) Neither. Not seeing D anymore, Evie at Max’s. Want to come get me?

I figured there was no reason to beat around the bush.

Ash (8:03 PM) I’ll be there at 9

Me (8:o4 PM) K, See you then

Pleased with myself for rectifying my lonely night and having the self-confidence to ask Ash to come and pick me up, I skipped to my closet to find something to wear.

An hour later I opened the door to find Ash wearing almost the exact outfit that I had on: worn out jeans, a navy blue t-shirt (mine was a bit more fitted than his), and brown flip flops. We took one look at each other and cracked up laughing.

“I guess I need to change,” I said, turning around and heading back into the room with Ash following close behind. I could smell his unique Ash scent and couldn’t wait to snuggle up in it later that night.

“I don’t care if you change or not. I think it’s pretty funny actually, and besides, you look good in that,” he said. He grabbed my shoulder and turned me around to face him. I expected him to say something else but instead he just stared deep into my eyes. It was like he was trying to read some deep dark secret buried in my soul or something. After what seemed like an hour, but was probably more like a minute, I broke the silence. “If you’re sure, then I’m ready. Just let me grab my phone and my purse.” I wasn’t sure if he expecting or wanting me to bring up the previous night, but I had decided it was best if I didn’t.

I gathered my purse and phone, locked up, and followed him out to his car. I wasn’t sure about Ash but to me the whole situation felt rather bizarre… almost like a date. We had never gone anywhere together with just the two of us in a car. I tried hard to remind myself that it wasn’t, that he was simply a friend giving me a ride to a party that he happened to be going to anyways, but my heart refused to listen and was fluttering violently as he opened the car door for me.

We hadn’t been on the road but two or three minutes when Ash looked over at me and asked, “What do you say we grab some Chinese takeout and take it back to my place and just hang out there? Meg had a project or something so she wasn’t going tonight either.” He looked hopeful that I would agree and my heart soared even higher. The higher it climbed, the further it would fall…

“Sure, that sounds fine,” I agreed, trying not to sound too eager. Hmmm, lets see. I can go hang out at a party and watch a bunch of girls throw themselves at Ash without even Dylan there to distract me, or I could go spend the entire evening at Ash’s house, just the two of us. And Meg, I reminded myself, but she sure wasn’t interested in getting in Ash’s pants. It wasn’t a very difficult decision.

Half an hour later, Ash, Meg, and I sat around their kitchen table stuffing our faces with the feast that Ash had ordered for us. Meg had let me borrow some pajama pants so that I could relax completely and not have to hang around in my jeans. We all joked around and complained about the coursework that we had to complete before the Thanksgiving holiday. After dinner, Meg excused herself and disappeared into her room to work on her project. Ash and I refilled our drinks and moved down the hall into his room. He grabbed a pair of his pajama pants as well and went into the bathroom to shower. While I waited for him to return, I noticed a large drawing on his desk that he had obviously been working on. At first glance it appeared to be a tribal butterfly, similar to several tattoos I had seen before. However, as I looked closer, I noticed that the names Eros and Psyche were interwoven into the wings of the butterfly. I immediately thought back to the first night I had met Ash and ended up spending the night in his bed, that night we had unknowingly began our string of Saturday night sleepovers, and the night that he had called me Psyche.

All I knew about the story of Eros and Psyche was the short summary that Ash had given me when I had asked him about it before. I had never looked up the entire myth, I think I was afraid that I would get my hopes up that he meant something more than he did by calling me that. And since that day he had only called me butterfly, so I really hadn’t allowed myself to think about it again. But now that I saw this beautiful butterfly that held the names of Psyche and Eros, I had to know the full story.

Ash exited the bathroom showered and changed. I loved the smell of his soap that lingered on his skin long after using it. It made me think of waterfalls and cold springs. I didn’t even give him a chance to say anything before I bombarded him.

“I want to know the whole story of Eros and Psyche. Will you tell it to me?” I asked demandingly. He looked at me and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Did you see what I was working on?” he asked, already knowing the answer. I lowered my eyes and nodded. I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth and hoped he wasn’t mad that I had been snooping around. I looked back up at him and his gaze was focused in on my mouth. I released my lip and he brought his eyes back to mine.

“I thought you were going to look it up?” A look that I thought (hoped) could’ve been disappointment passed over his face.

I shrugged my shoulders and looked down at the floor. “I just haven’t had a chance with school and all.” I knew that sounded like the lamest excuse, but I didn’t know what else to say.

“Come sit down and get comfortable and I’ll tell be happy to tell you the world’s first fairy tale.” He smiled warmly at me and patted the bed next to him as he crawled in and adjusted the pillows. “I’ll even begin with ‘Once upon a time’ and end with ‘and they lived happily ever after’ if you want,” he teased. I stuck my tongue out at him.

Over the next hour, Ash went into great detail telling the beautiful, enduring story of love that would not be denied between Aphrodite’s son Eros, the God of Love, and Psyche, the exquisite maiden princess. He described how their path to one another took many unnecessary turns due to interference from jealous outsiders, miscommunication, stubbornness, and lack of trust; however, in the end, as in all good fairy tales, true love found a way to persevere. Eros and Psyche were able to forgive each other for their shortcomings and were determined to overcome any obstacles necessary to be together. Zeus was so impressed with their undying love and selfless dedication to one another, that he allowed Psyche to drink ambrosia, the drink of the Gods, and granted her immortality so that she and Eros could be together forever.

As Ash finished the story, I realized how many of the current day romance books and movies were so similar to this myth that was thousands of years old. I guessed the trials and tribulations of finding true love, as well as the sheer joy and bliss of living in it once you have it, were something that humans had experienced from the beginning of time.

I wasn’t sure how long I had been lost in my own thoughts, but I finally noticed Ash just staring at me with a boyish grin on his face. “What are you thinking about, butterfly?”

When I told him what I was pondering, he nodded and agreed. “Love really is a tricky thing, isn’t it? It has definitely been the inspiration for more art, more writings, more music… shit, even more deaths, than anything else in history.”

“It’s a necessary evil, isn’t it? Or I guess you could say a tragic inevitability,” I mused. “We all love someone, whether it be erotic love, or family love or even self-love. So we are all dependent on the happiness and nirvana that is felt when that love is strong and healthy, but vulnerable to the heart-wrenching pain of that love when it’s either taken away or not returned.” Unfortunately, I was beginning to learn firsthand the misery of unrequited love.

He pondered my words for a moment. I thought he was going to say something in response, but instead he changed the subject. “The intriguing thing about the myth of Eros and Psyche is that it’s not only a story about their love for each other, which of course is the prominent theme, but it also emphasizes Psyche’s personal growth and self-discovery. Her ability to battle through the misfortunes and sufferings bestowed upon her, revealed to her the strong, courageous, soulful woman that she truly was. It was because of this that the Greeks use the term Psyche to refer to both the human soul and butterflies. Psyche represents the metamorphosis of a dying human soul to that of immortality when true love fills that soul, much like when the caterpillar changes into the beautiful butterfly.”

When he stopped, he looked so deep into my eyes that I was sure he could see my soul. I didn’t know what to say; all I could think was that I hoped he never stopped calling me butterfly. I wanted to kiss him and I was pretty sure that he wanted to kiss me, but neither of us were brave enough to make the first move, neither of us strong enough individually to put our pride and fears aside. So we continued to deny ourselves a chance at our fairy tale and instead, we settled, miserably, for friendship.