My head hurts and it is cold here. So yea. That'll build something.
\ \
She knew it was a mistake the minute it happened.
She knew it was a problem the minute Ashley passed her by without so much as a 'good morning' or a middle finger straight up in the air.
She knew it was a mistake to get angry and then to get drunk.
She knew. And she did it all anyway.
And she hopes that Rachel is happy, laying there on her futon on the floor. She hopes there is a big fucking grimace on her wasted face. She hopes that, once Rachel opens her bleary eyes, that she'll be in a lot of pain.
But that's just hateful and she is being hateful today.
Because she made a mistake and there's no taking it back.
\ \
Chloe's lips are soft and warm and comforting. But that's like a damn blanket and lust should at least be a little wrong, sex should at least feel like chasing down something.
It shouldn't be safe, not this safe, not like this.
And Ashley pulls away and Chloe's eyes slowly open.
And friendship is a pretty thing, delicate like china, and no one wants to ruin it with a random fuck. No one wants to ruin it with random emotions. No one wants to ruin something decent because something wild just busted out of its cage.
She runs fingers through her hair, irritated at being so fucking mature all of sudden.
And Chloe smiles even as her heart hurts, even as disinterest runs over her soul like an eighteen wheeler - all there in Ashley's gaze to the floor.
"Sorry."
"Hey, no problem."
"I just... this isn't what I should be doing, you know? I don't do this sort of thing. I don't use people."
"I get it, okay? You're upset... right? And you wanted, I don't know, comfort... am I right?"
Ashley nods and bites her bottom lip.
Chloe wants to hold the girl, but she does not.
Now is not the time.
Now will never be the time.
\ \
"Did you two have fun?"
"Yea, Spence, how was it?"
"I bet she barely remembers a thing..."
Spencer adjusts the edge of her skirt, her ass hurting as she sits precariously on the railing.
And her group of friends, if you can truly call them that, ask for details.
But what can she really say?
Another night of too much alcohol. Another night of hands that roam. Another night doing what Spencer Carlin tends to do too much of.
"Yea, Spencer, tell us all about Rachel and you."
That's Chloe, speaking without looking, and Spencer recalls something about a kiss, about feeling reckless, about Ashley...
...and like a spell, she can see the brunette across the way, walking determinedly through throngs of students.
And Spencer clamps down on the urge to run after the girl, to beg and plead, to ask for another chance - on top of all the chances they've had - and to be allowed to pull her own head out of her own ass.
But she doesn't run after Ashley.
She sits there and takes the ribbing of these friends and watches Ashley disappear.
\ \
Another year. Another day. Another hour.
And Spencer stumbles up from bed, ignoring the passed out girl on the other side of that mattress, ignoring the foul taste in her mouth.
She pulls the blouse over her head and she pops several mints and she puts her sunglasses on before walking out the door.
Another year. Another town. Another moment.
And Ashley nervously walks down this hallway, offices looming and classrooms to either side, the sound of her shoes like nails into a coffin.
She pulls on the handle and the hinges groan and every head turns her way as she hushes her name out to the teacher.
\ \
A sea of faces look at her and only one hand grabs onto her as she passes.
Ashley looks down into hazel eyes and a gentle smile.
"You look lost and overwhelmed."
"I am."
"Then have a seat and allow me to explain the world as we here at Avery see it."
Ashley, meet Chloe. Chloe, meet Ashley.
\ \
Head against the table and a soft hand on her back, that's better than the sunlight and that's better than a lecture.
Darren is a nice boy. And Spencer doesn't think that about many people.
"Rough night?"
"Sort of."
"Still, you should remove the shades and check out the scenery..."
"God, not right now, okay? My head is pounding and I failed that fucking test in Cooper's class... Plus, I think something died in my mouth."
"Should watch what you put in your mouth then."
"Thanks. You are all class."
"As if you can talk, Spence."
But she raises her head and sees Chloe Tucker talking to some pretty brunette. And the pretty brunette laughs some, which carries over the air as if it were in front of a megaphone.
And it pierces Spencer's fragile ears.
And she cannot seem to look away.
\ \
The two of them finally meet at some function at the school, everyone dancing and taking something illegal, teachers like blind mice in a tunnel.
"Hey."
"Um, hello...?"
"Sorry, Spencer. I'm Spencer."
"I'm Ashley."
Hips move without warning and heads bob without invitation.
"Wanna dance?"
Spencer grins and Ashley stares at that out-stretched hand, sizing it up. Spencer just flutters the fingers, willing to wait a bit for a girl this good looking.
And Ashley decides she is willing to live a little bit for a girl this good looking.
And they dance.
For the rest of the night.
\ \
Ashley wishes the blonde would just ask her already.
It's been days. It's been weeks. It'll soon be months.
But every time it seems like it will happen - the two of them, joking and teasing and getting impossibly close - Spencer will take off.
And Ashley wishes her own voice would just ask Spencer already.
It's been so good. It's been so frustrating. It'll soon be too late.
But every time it seems like she'll say something - the two of them, flirting and taunting and touching when they shouldn't be - Ashley will play it off as nothing.
They are both to blame.
In the end.
\ \
Spencer considers them something. Or wants them to be something.
Every lingering caress. Every long look. Every unnecessary hug. Every lick of the lips.
They are something, but neither of them talk about it.
There is some kind of fear. There is some kind of resistance.
And Spencer isn't sure why she won't do anything, why she won't grab a hold of Ashley and not let the girl go.
There isn't a sad story. There isn't a broken heart. There isn't a shitty home.
It's just her.
It's just Ashley.
It's just how they are and she can't seem to stop it.
But Spencer considers them something.
Something, something, something.
\ \
She thought it would work and push the issue.
But dancing with anyone other than Spencer sucks. And the blonde doesn't seem to give a damn, walking off and grinning at some girl and drinking like there is no tomorrow.
'Fuck you, Spencer.' That's what Ashley thinks as she storms out of this party, leaving some semi-trashed butch girl in her wake, slurred voice asking where she is going.
And she thought it would work and shove away the disappointment.
But nothing is strong enough to erase Ashley from her mind. Or from anywhere else. And the brunette has left and Spencer feels like shit, with some girl from her fifth period class mumbling into her ear about an 'empty room' and 'no strings'.
'Fuck you, Ashley.' That's what Spencer thinks as she drags this girl named Rachel to some other room, shutting the door with her foot and attaching her lips to a sweaty neck.
\ \
Spencer wanted to be found, though.
And so she was.
Ashley wanted to know, though.
And so she does.
Rachel took Spencer back to her place and a good ol' fashioned drunken make-out session occurred, which turned into a poor version of Spencer's usual abilities in bed.
But Rachel was smiling.
And Spencer was busy forgetting even as she was fucking.
Ashley didn't cry. But she felt hollow.
And she knocked on Chloe's door and her hazel-eyed friend didn't ask questions, just took her in and slipped an arm about stiff shoulders.
"It's stupid, you know?"
"What is?"
"Getting upset. Not like we were dating or anything. And... it's not like she wanted to date me or anything... apparently."
"Ash..."
"Forget it. Let's just forget it, okay?"
"...Okay."
Ashley didn't feel like explaining how she went back into that party, to give Spencer hell and then to maybe kiss her senseless and break this weird 'thing' of theirs.
Didn't feel like explaining how she looked around and got this strange feeling in her stomach as she turned the door-knob.
Didn't feel like explaining the sight of Spencer and some girl, kissing as if it were going out of style, a moan or two slipping out of moving mouths.
Nah, no need to get into that.
Because it was over before it began anyway.
\ \
She made a mistake. And she knows it.
But with her fist poised over the door, Spencer isn't sure knowing these facts is enough.
Still.
She is willing to wait for a girl so good-looking.
She is willing to wait for a while.
A long while, even...
And knuckles connect with wood. And muffled footsteps sound from the other side.
Ashley tries to shut the door, but Spencer puts her foot in the way.
"Can we talk? Please?"
And Ashley stares, sizing Spencer up, like always.
But she lets the blonde in and crosses her arms and prepares to be as cold as need be.
"What do you want to say?"
But talking is over-rated and they've done so much of that - playful, sharing, chatting, whispering, over the phone and over email and over coffee, late at night, early in the morning - they've talked and talked.
They've talked themselves out of something.
So, Spencer strides over and her body collides with Ashley's. And they land against the door, pushing it until it slams shut.
Then Spencer presses her lips to Ashley's.
And they need to clear the air, they need to offer apologies and they need to forgive, they need to admit how they feel and what they feel and so on and so forth.
Still.
Ashley is willing to wait for a girl so good-looking.
She is willing to wait for a while.
A long while, even...
And Ashley returns this kiss, keeping Spencer near with one hand on the back of the blonde's neck and the other hand in Spencer's hair.
They kiss until words don't really matter.
\ \
-END-
I had a dream last night. This is most of it.