This story is an expansion of my one-shot I posted around Christmas. After encouragement to fill it out, I decided...what the hell- Today is my birthday and I would like to start year 23 off with something fresh. If you haven't read it, it's not necessary, but if you'd like to know what you're in for, go ahead and check it out. Do take it under advisement, that is not the plot of this story.

So here we go. I was contemplating on whether or not I should post this yet. I still haven't worked everything out, but I have a good flow going on and a good overall structure, so I think it should be just fine. Like I said, updates should be about once a week. If I get ahead enough, they may be twice a week, but I'm not promising anything. I would like to post daily, but I would hate to do that and get hit with writer's block and leave you hanging. I know that doesn't make me happy when reading a good story. I'm currently 6 chapters deep, so we're set for the time being.

A little note to start us off: Things might start off slow, I'm not sure. I guess it's open to your interpretation. I rated this T because I don't think it really deserves an M. I'm pretty lenient on my ratings, but I think most of us here should be mature enough to endure swearing and adult situations. If you can't handle that, then that's your own business. I will put adequate warning for chapters that merit that, but to be clear, I'm not big on writing smut. I think if it's written, it should be tactful and never overdone, so this won't contain a whole lot of that. But let's be real here, couples like to get down.

I'd like to dedicate the first chapter to Your Relentless Lover for giving me my first ever sweet review. Your comment made me smile and definitely encouraged me to get this out. So I hope it doesn't disappoint ;)

Without further adieu, I give you: Crest

^AirUpThere^

Don't you love when you get caught up in the most un-interesting conversation in the middle of a party?

I do.

Allow me to introduce myself: Spencer Sarcasm Carlin.

Actually, that's not my middle name. I don't even have one. But that's not what this is about.

It's as if the one dipshit who has the most drool-inducing job, and I don't mean in a good way, begins ranting on about his daily crap.

I roll my eyes while taking another sip of beer, pushing myself off the counter top I was leaning on and exit the conversation while I'm still relatively uninvolved. As much as I'm thoroughly enjoying Ben or Brad or Brett- whatever, it's not important- babble on about installing air conditioners, I think my need to pee is winning out.

I get hit in the temple with a beer pong ball while maneuvering around some jackass who has zero hand/eye coordination.

High five, buddy. Nah, not really.

I hope he loses.

I used to love this. Throwing parties here, that is. This house is perfect for them. It's big, and spacious, vaulted ceilings, counter top is the perfect length for beer pong, so no worrying about tables and all that. Big, open kitchen that's connected to the living area. Covered deck out back, complete with a grill and a fire pit. Plenty of parking in front and most all the neighbors don't mind us. Plus, I live here, so if I'm good and sauced and ready to call it a night, I just stumble downstairs and plop on my bed.

I'm not really big on the club scene; too many douchebags wearing Ed Hardy. Those shirts make my eyes hurt. I do enjoy a good bar from time to time. Although I have never been thrilled about paying $5+ for a shot of Jack Daniels.

Ahh, Jack is my boy.

Most of our friends are considerate. They clean up after themselves when they leave. One particular group; the girls who always bring the hookah- I've known them since elementary, believe it or not- even takes the trash on their way out, every time. That among other respects is the reason why we party here weekend in and weekend out. It's a good spot for friends and good times.

Lately, there have been more randoms on the "scene," thanks to some of the new acquaintances we've acquired who've gotten the impression that it's okay to invite whoever the hell they please. I've been really unimpressed with what most of these people have to offer.

It goes highly unappreciated, let me tell you, when you live here and you suddenly notice a bunch of people you've never seen in your life, mean muggin' in the corner like they run this shit. Then as soon as they figure out "Oh you live here?" it's all ass-kissing and drinking everything in sight when we aren't looking.

But I'm still involved with it all. I love being social, even if it means giving a smile I don't really mean and a laugh I had to force. I'm not fake, I just don't see the point in letting every snoozefest I meet, know that they are just that. No one likes every person they meet, but I think people in general are interesting, so whatever. Although lately, something seems like... I don't know. I feel a change coming on. It feels good, but I've never been fond of being unsure.

As I make my way toward the stairs after being struck by the stray pong ball, I'm stopped in my tracks as the door opens.

Jesus… More people?

I see her walk in and even at first glance, my mouth instantly goes dry. She's laughing as she looks back at her friend that follows, a.k.a. stumbles inside. It's our old roommate Rae. Drunky Magoo (that would be Rae; you'll understand why later) makes a beeline straight downstairs for my bathroom, leaving her friend to her own devices. That girl has the bladder the size of a peanut, I swear. Can't find her around? Look in the bathroom.

She glances up and catches me gawking.

I hastily make my way to the upstairs bathroom. Surprisingly, it's vacant.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror; nice blush, Carlin.

I exit the bathroom feeling refreshed. After giving myself a pep talk to keep it together, I seek out the gorgeous brunette that just walked in with Rae. I am going to talk to her and woo her. Yes; woo.

I spot them in the kitchen next to the cases of beer chatting with each other. I set my half empty beer on the counter and make my way over to them. Nonchalantly, I reach in between them for another beer with a polite smile as any other regular party-goer who is parched might do.

The brunette locks eyes with me and if I'm not mistaken, I think I see a smirk. She has the most beautiful, deep brown eyes I've ever seen. My movements falter for a moment and I briefly forgot what I was even doing over here.

Well, there goes that confidence I had mustered up only moments ago.

Getting a hold of myself, I look to my friend, I begin what is quite possibly the most cringe-worthy thing I've done in awhile, "Hey Rae, you like to dance, right?"

"Fuuuuuuck yayaaaah!" She starts dancing in place, arms raised above her head, eyes closed, sloppy smile plastered on her face.

Rae is trashed already. You can color me shocked.

I bet on 2 more shots until she falls down the stairs.

"Well how about you go dance so I can talk to your friend here?" I remark slyly.

Trust me, I realize how lame that sounded. But in my defense I am already a little buzzed and sex on legs over here has turned me into a nervous wreck, although it's too late to turn back. So I keep up my confident exterior even though all I want to do is slap myself.

I smile cheekily at her and I see the other girl raise an eyebrow at me in my peripheral vision as Rae's drunk ass dances off into the other room without a second thought.

She bumps into Mr. Uncoordinated Beer Pong Extraordinaire, spilling beer on him and causing him to miss his redemption shot, losing the game. Sigh. What did I tell you? Hey, at least she managed to screw his game up.

I turn to look over at the girl in front of me and she's looking at me with an expression I can't decipher.

"Hey, I'm Spencer-" I'm interrupted by her bursting into laughter. It's husky and quite possibly the sexiest laugh I've ever heard, but the realization that she's laughing at me causes the smile to drop from my face and a frown appears. Not that I could blame her for her hysterics. I mean, seriously? Nice line, Spencer. What kind of moron actually uses lines anyway?

I move to walk away and pout at my lame attempt at picking this girl up when I'm stopped by her grabbing my forearm. I glance down at it when I get a tingling sensation from her touch. Or maybe it's just my buzz getting a bit stronger.

Her laughing dies down a little, but she's still pretty amused, "No! Shit I'm sorry," she apparently can't stop herself. I'm not sure if I should join in and ease the awkward moment or not. "It's just that… Really?" she says through a laugh.

I blush and look down for a moment with an embarrassed smile, but she still has a grip on my arm, so I look back up and she's smiling at me in a way that causes the thought 'I will never get tired of that' to run through my head.

I don't know what to say. This girl has struck me mute.

Wonderful.

She turns around, grabbing two shot glasses and pours a couple shots of Jack.

My kind of girl.

Turning back to me, she hands me one. "So Spencer, you got a last name?"

"Umm, y-yeah. Carlin." Nice stutter, idiot.

She chuckles, "Well. Nice to meet you, Spencer Carlin." She holds up her shot glass for a cheers, "Ashley Davies."

I grin and raise my glass and clank it together with hers before we both down them.

She walks away giggling, but not before whispering in my ear in a low raspy voice to find her later and I'm left unmoving, completely caught off guard by this girl.

Did that line actually work?