Author's Note

Whoo hoo! The not so long awaited sequel. Let's see what new things stand in the way of our two favorite girls. I told you there was more Spashley goodness in me. Thank you all for your reviews, and such. They mean a lot to me. This story takes place after It's Where You're Going. If you haven't read that, I suggest you go track it down and read it first. Otherwise, this might not make sense to you.

Not Where We've Been

Chapter 1

By Persephone's Nautical Nun

Happiness is short lived, I've come to find. It's like no matter where I turn, something is always standing in my way. Ashley says it'll always be like this. There will always be somebody telling us we're wrong, and something to remind us that we're different.

What makes this entire situation okay, is the fact that I'm not doing this alone. Ashley's been with me every step of the way. I'd be lost without her.

We both decided it wasn't necessary for my mom to know about us just yet. We've had enough drama. We don't need to add more to the list.

Speaking of Mom, we wrote off my injuries to LA gangs and misunderstandings. She was horrified, like we all knew she was going to be. But, we're pretty sure she bought it. Glen threatened to track the thugs down and beat them to a bloody pulp. Clay said he understood. He said something about how LA thrives on violence.

Dad was another story. He didn't say anything. He just kind of looked at me, looked through me, maybe. In all honesty, I wasn't expecting to fool him. He sees so much shit everyday. That this probably wasn't a big deal to him. And, he's stood up for Ashley on a regular basis, so I'm not concerned.

Glen and Clay eventually found out about Ashley and me. It wasn't hard, considering they go to school with us. After the... bashing... I figured there was no point in trying to hide it. I don't think I wanted to hide it, anyway. There's no way I would be able to stand pretending to be friends with Ashley, when all I wanted to do was touch her. It's hard enough trying to do that around my parents. I wasn't about to do it all the time.

Clay was really cool about it. He didn't seem surprised. He said he knew all along that there were changes going on with me. He also understands what it's like to be different. Clay and I are okay.

Glen seems to be in denial. He's actually used Ashley and me as a way to further his rivalry with Aiden. According to him, Aiden's turned me gay, too. It's all Aiden's fault.

Personally, I think Glen spends a little too much time thinking about Aiden.

As far as my injuries go, I only have a little bruising left around my eye and a tiny scar on my lip. I trace it with my fingers, sometimes. Feeling the small rise of skin pulls me back to reality. It's one of those tiny reminders that I'm different from everyone else.

Fuck it, it doesn't matter. I'm happy regardless of what people think.

I'm laying here with Ashley, now, on her bed. My head is on her stomach, and it's good to close my eyes and feel her breathe. I focus all of my senses on her fingers playing with my hair absentmindedly. We've been sitting in silence for a while. I've lost track of time, and I don't care.

I just want to stay like this forever.

I felt her stomach rise and fall heavily as she sighed. She was thinking about something. That's a little scary.

"Spence, we have to tell her."

I knew what she was talking about. We've had this conversation a couple of times before. And it always ended the same way, me trying to explain that I'm not ready to deal with all that, and Ashley getting hurt because she thinks I'm ashamed of her. Why did we have to go through all this again?

"Ash, you know I'm not ready."

She was quiet for a minute. Almost too quiet. "Spencer, you seem to be ready to let people you don't care about know. But, you deny who I am to those you do care about. You'd think it'd be easier telling them than the losers at school."

That was so wrong, though. She's seen all of the crosses hanging in my house. She's been to one of my family's dinners. She's knows how fanatical my mom is about religion. She also knows how my mom feels about her. Telling my mother is the hardest thing I can think of doing right now.

"Ash... please..." I didn't want to start another argument with her. I just wanted to lay here. It was nice.

Her hand was still tangled in my hair. She made no movement to change that. "The thing is, Spence, is that she's going to find out one way or another. She'll guess from some look we share, or how close we've gotten. Or worse, she could catch us doing something."

"So, then we won't do anything at my house!" I said, trying to lighten the mood.

She chuckled at that and my head bobbed up and down with her stomach. After a few minutes of silence, she started playing with my hair again. "I just think she'd handle it better if you told her yourself, rather than finding out some other way."

I sat up a little and leaned on my elbow, looking her in the eyes. "You're probably right. Just like you've been right about everything else. But, if we tell her now, she'll think you're the reason I got beat up. Can we at least wait until the bashing is old news?"

She rolled her eyes at me and flopped her head back on her pillow. "Fine, little miss scared! We'll wait until the almost invisible bruise on your eye is gone. Cause there's no way we're waiting for your lip to go back to normal. We'll be waiting forever, then."

I threw a spare pillow at her. "Jerk."