Hello. This is my first story but feel free to bash my writing all you want. I promise to survive horrible meaness from anonymous internet users. Obviously it's Spashley. If you have any suggestions, (even if you just think that Ashley should love hot dogs) please tell. I'll see if I can work it in. Everything is the same until the summer before season 3.

Ashley's PoV

The prom is an overrated, pointless, stupid, horrifying, and tacky way for your high school to make a profit off of you. I have been saying this since freshman year, maybe even eighth grade. Thus, I am happy (or sad?) to report that I was absolutely correct.

My junior prom epically sucked.

So, if I was so certain that prom was a waste of time and money why did I go in the first place? Well, enter Spencer Carlin, love of my life, and her heart-melting pout.

Okay, in all honesty she did not pull the pout on me this time, not to say that she doesn't, and she was willing to skip prom for me. However, her obvious disappointment was deadly. And my favorite visual (unless I'm horny) is Spencer's smile. Suffice it to say that even as I rejected Spencer's invitation to prom, I had my own invitation to "the stupid prom" waiting in her locker.

What?

I have a reputation to maintain, people!

Anyways, prom started out okay. Really cheesy, especially the photo shoot, but it got better after a quickie in the bathroom. Then, it was just weird when Madison apologized for being a bitch (it can't last). I think I should've taken that as a sign of the impending apocalypse.

Next thing I knew Aiden, my best friend, my rock and certainty, my ex, my half-sister's boyfriend started spewing crap about how much he loved me and how I had to feel the same way.

While I was reeling Spencer came over found out what was going on. Soon there was a full-blown shouting match, Spencer: hurt, jealous, and angry, Aiden: hopeful and desperate, Kyla: trying to figure out exactly what was happening, and me: struggling to process Aiden's confession and all the shit that came with it as every person I cared about in my life was demanding something from me.

Here's a sample of the many questions running through my bewildered brain:

What the hell? He's telling me this now? Should I cut him out of my life? Can I convince Spencer that it's okay if I don't cut him out? Can I get through life without his support? Is this a joke? Am I having hearing problems? How do I not break his heart? Should I just break his heart anyways? Will Spencer understand? Why is she looking at me like that? She should know where I stand, right? Is Kyla going to hate me? Should I be angry at him for doing this to my sister? Where is Kyla anyways? What did Spencer just say? Should Spencer be able to dictate who my friends are? Why is Aiden doing this? What do they all want? Why can't they just give me some breathing space? What the hell am I supposed to do? Can I do anything without hurting somebody?

As you can see my brain wasn't the best environment for wise words and smart decisions at that moment. I needed to sort everything through before people started interrogating me.

Fat chance.

The most important people in my life all wanted answers and all I could think of were questions.

I also needed alone time. My head was pounding and I needed solitude to help me wade through this mess.

I know I'm not good at expressing my feelings. Often I come off too harsh or not clearly enough. I guess its what happens when your parents never bothered to teach you about proper behavior.

I tried to stay and tough it out. I tried to be there for Spencer when Clay died. I tried to set Aiden down gently. I tried to ignore Kyla glaring daggers at me. I tried for a week, and then latched onto a chance to escape. My mother was going to Europe and wanted me with her. I didn't think that there was no ulterior motive, but I was desperate. I had to escape the accusations, the "How could you's", and "I thought you loved me's".

I thought it was only for week or two at most. I called Spencer and left a message because she still wasn't picking up her phone. I packed my bags. I called Spencer again and left another message on her phone. I drove to the with my mother and got to our gate with about 30 minutes to spare. I took some of that time to call Spencer and leave yet another message. After we got to our seats on the plane I tried again. I left a ridiculously rambling message:

"Hey, Spence. It's Ash, again. The plane's about to take off. I'll call you when I get to the hotel. I'm sorry that it's really short notice. I hope everyone's okay. I'm sorry that I'm leaving. I'm sorry Clay's dead and that prom was a disaster and that I didn't say anything and I still don't know what to say. I'm sorry that I suck at being there for anyone and that I dragged you into this. I'm sorry I can't be what everybody needs. I-"

I was crying at this point and I forced myself to shut up and make sense.

"Look, I just need to get away and breathe. I'll call every night. If you don't hear from me in two weeks you should probably call the police and tell them to start searching for my dead body." I was trying for some humor to defuse my earlier despair. "I love-"

"Ashley! Put your phone away already! That's the second announcement they've made!" My mother snapped at me. She snatched it and closed it before turning it off.

"-you." I trailed off.

If I was an honest person maybe I'd tell you that I called so many times because I wanted her to beg me to stay. Maybe I'd tell you that if she had even suggested that she wanted me around I would have smashed a window and leapt off that plane in a heartbeat. Maybe I'd tell you that after a week of being pushed away and jabbed at I didn't know if Spencer still loved me for just me anymore. Maybe I just needed her to tell me to stay.

But I'm not honest, because I didn't call her again all summer after that.

So all I can say is that I regretted Europe the minute the plane left the ground.

I wish she'd called the police after two weeks. Though maybe even that was too late.

Spencer's PoV

When I look back on prom, all I will think of is getting my heart broken. Then inevitably I'll be assaulted by waves of guilt. How come that's all I remember when I think back? My brother died.

But all I remember is Ashley's face. So confused and lost. My heart insisting that this was it. She was going to choose Aiden over me. I had seen it coming, powerless to stop it. I bolted out. Everyone followed me.

Before we could get anything settled the shooting started. Clay died and Aiden took a bullet to the heart. Ashley bounced around between comforting me and Aiden's bedside. I shut her out for a week into the summer. Looking back, that wasn't the best thing to do. All it could possibly accomplish was push her towards Aiden.

I did it nevertheless.

I ignored her sad brown eyes. Turned away from her affection. Deafened myself to her declarations of love. I convinced myself that they were fake, she already declared undying love for Aiden, she was doing it because as my girlfriend she was supposed to. That if Aiden recovered she'd leave me. She was just looking for a good moment to end it.

It wasn't the most logical conclusion I 've ever reached. Especially since Ashley is one of the least likely people to do anything that she is supposed to. Sometimes I swear that girl will go out of her way to annoy people by breaking rules, even if there's nothing in it for her. She's just contrary like that. Maybe she feels safer knowing that she won't be trapped by expectations.

But everyone is.

She's just expected to not follow expectations, if that makes any sense at all.

Anyways, I lived in this delusion. Admittedly I was probably worse than Ashley when her Dad died.

Then, one night I was laying on my bed, just reliving the horrors of prom. Every word said, every movement made until, finally, I had reached an epiphany. And it sure took me long enough.

I scrabbled for my phone. Aiden had declared undying love for Ashley. Ashley hadn't said anything back. For most of the scene she had been spluttering half coherent words and looking stunned.

"Blockhead. Idiot." I muttered under my breath. "How could it take a freaking week for you to figure out that Ashley still loves you."

24 missed calls. 18 new messages. I hadn't checked my phone for a long time. I looked down my missed calls list. Ashley. Ashley. Ashley. Ashley, interspersed with relatives and old friends who I no longer wished to see offering condolences, no doubt because they were supposed to.

"Supposed to" will make you doubt the sincerity of everything and everybody. God, Ash I'm sorry.

I started listening to the messages. The first two were from Ashley. Worried, nervous, and vulnerable, but managing to keep a normal conversation. Then the third one:

"Hey, Spence. It's Debbie. Just calling to-"

I slammed 2 for delete so violently I nearly dropped my phone. I was so angry. I still can't believe she'd have the nerve to call after everything.

I continued to listen to Ashley's increasingly desperate messages. It was agonizing to hear her heart crack a little bit more with each message. She told me she understood that I wanted to be alone. She was going to Europe. Just for a week or two. She'd give me space and time to grieve.

She was begging me to tell her to stay.

I was hurt that she'd hesitated when Aiden told her he loved her. I should have been everything. But I'd more or less shoved her towards Aiden afterwards. Whose to say she's the only one at fault.

I stewed in my guilt as I listened to the frantic intensity of her final message. I called her, but she must have been in the air already because it went to voicemail.

"Hey Ash, its Spencer. I- I really want to talk to you. I hope you have a nice trip. I love you... no matter what."

I closed my phone and tried to still my racing heart. It's not too late. It's just two weeks. It's not too late. She'll call tonight. We'll be together forever. It's NOT too late.

But she never called that summer. Because, like my heart knew, it was too late.

We didn't survive that summer. Spencer Carlin survived. Ashley Davies survived. "We" didn't though. Even individually, neither of us were left whole.

"We" died that summer.

I don't know if I believe in reincarnation.