Chapter Two

Walter woke up early the next morning, though not voluntarily. He rolled out of bed, and looked around his bare room. He had moved everything he took with him into his house, he just had yet to arrange everything the way he wanted it. He wondered if Spencer was busy. He thought to himself that he might ask for her help, remembering she mentioned turning the Hastings' barn into a loft, that she never got around to moving into, on account of her very bitchy sounding older sister.

He wanted to do his own room himself. He got up without dressing and went into the hallways to carry boxes into his room. He shelved his books, hung up his posters, featuring various Major League Lacrosse players from his favorite team, the Boston Cannons, and his favorite bands, and he hung up his lacrosse state champions flag from his sophomore year over his bed. He set up the lamp on his desk, and put his art supplies in various drawers, depending on the nature of each tool, and his portfolio in a bottom drawer that was slightly larger with a lock. He hung up all his clothes in his closet, and set all his shoes in the floor of the large space. He placed a small UNC clad tub next to his bookshelf, and stored three of his lacrosse sticks in it, including the one he played with now. The final touch was his alarm clock on his nightstand. He never used it, but he did like to know the time.

When he finished his room he showered, and decided to give Spencer a call. Would she be up? He wondered. He hoped he wasn't being too much of a bother, but Spencer answered on the second ring, with a seemingly alert and awake and questioning "Hello?"

It occurred to him that he never stored his number in her phone, only vice versa, and that his number was out of Rosewood's area code.

"Spencer? It's Walter, did I wake you?" he asked, deducting that he hadn't, though he felt it polite to ask anyway.

"Walter! Hi." She said, her voice immediately brightening. "No, I was already awake, I'm just finishing some homework." She replied sounding slightly preoccupied.

"In any hour of the A.M.? Wow, you're motivated." He said, impressed with her drive.

"I don't like to leave things undone, procrastination isn't really in the vocabulary of a Hastings."

Walter could hear the smile in her voice. She was busy, but he decided to ask anyway, "When you're finished, were you doing anything today?"

"I don't have any plans yet, would you like to change that?" Spencer asked playfully.

"Don't get too excited, I need to place my furniture. The only room I've done is mine, and I have a whole house ahead of me. I can do all the moving, I was just really hoping you could tell me what looks good, I remember you talking about remodeling the barn. Think you could lend me that flare for design today? He asked.

"I would honestly love to." Spencer said happily. "I'll be over in an hour or so, is that alright?"

"Yeah that's perfect, I'll try and get a few things done before you get here." He said. "See you shortly Spencer."

"See you, Walter." She replied and hung up the phone, turning back to her schoolwork, which, compared to spending the day with Walter Grey, seemed a lot more bleak and uninteresting than it had before he'd called. But she stayed and finished it.

Meanwhile, Walter, upstairs in his room turned on his iPod and docked it in his iHome. He selected the songs he wanted to hear by the artist, not wanting blink-182 as they were his absolute favorite and he'd over played them on the drive to Rosewood. He chose A Day To Remember instead, and made sure the volume was comfortable before going over to his nightstand and retrieving the lanyard from his drawer that held all of his keys.

He wondered how Spencer would react if she knew about his...hobby. He walked over to his desk, and on the opposite side of the locked drawer where his portfolio was safely stored, was another drawer with a lock. He unlocked it, and pulled out a vacuum sealed bag of marijuana. Light green, with reddish orange hairs. He pulled out a bud of the sticky plant and admired it, letting the sweet and sour aroma fill his nostrils before pulling out a medium sized chrome cylinder from the drawer, and taking off the top, then grinding up the herb. He used to appreciate breaking it down by hand, but when you do it so many times it does lose its appeal.

He decided against his neon green and royal blue glass bong, not really wanting to make the trip to fill it with water, and deciding on one of his pipes. It was forest green and was blown in a Sherlock style, and had a fairly deep bowl. He packed it and pulled a lighter out of a small drawstring bag where he kept many spares, and lit up.

Upon exhaling the smoke, he felt the effects of the bud, clearing his head and making things lucid and vivid. The way he liked them. He liked things a lot better when he was high, and so he smoked a few bowls to himself, until he was what his friend Ian liked to say, 'stoned to the bone'.

When he finished, he placed everything back in the drawer and pulled out a small, clear plastic bottle of eye drops. He usually never bothered, but he wasn't sure how Spencer felt about marijuana, though he supposed she might find the chemistry of it interesting if nothing else, given what he'd assessed of her personality. He decided to use this to try and get her to smoke some with him, but he wouldn't pressure her. Just make idle conversation on the subject and offer her some.

After walking to the bathroom and making sure his eyes were clear, he went back into his room, and changed the music. Angels & Airwaves. They weren't blink or anything, but he still thought they were good for the alternative genre.

He heard blink-182 though. He was pretty stoned so it didn't register at first, but it was Feeling This. His ringtone. And it was Spencer. He answered and immediately moved from his position on the bed to turn down the music.

"Hey, Spencer." He said happily.

"Hey, I'm at your front door, I rang the doorbell, but I decided to just call, in case you were showering or something." Said Spencer.

"I'm so sorry, I was playing music. Pretty inconsiderate of me, but I'll be right down." He said as he hung up the phone.

He raced down the stairs and opened the door to find a beaming Spencer, wearing a blue button down with a red high waisted skirt, and brown lace up boots that went mid-calf, reminding him of the only style of socks he liked to wear. He liked the way she had done her hair today especially, a long braid over just one of her shoulders. Walter had a thing for braids. He must have been admiring her appearance for a moment too long as she didn't wait any longer for him to step aside, and stepped over the threshold. As she did he caught her scent. He had no clue what it could be, but it smelled nice. It wasn't too heavy but not too light, it had an earthy touch to it as well. Was it her perfume? Maybe she just naturally smelled that nice?

He followed her into his living room, cluttered full of furniture that hadn't found its place and boxes upon boxes. She turned to face him slightly faster than expected and he was a little taken aback.

"Do you like the colors?" Spencer asked him shyly, smiling at him, causing her cheeks to display their dimples, which Walter's eyes strayed to.

He had noticed the crimson and royal blue, but it hadn't occurred to him that she had purposely worn his old school colors, not to mention his two favorites when together.

"I noticed, but I didn't think you dressed in those colors on purpose. Despite being my old school colors, crimson and blue are my favorite color combination." He smiled at her. "And I really like your braid. I think it's intricate and very classy."

She blushed slightly at the complement Walter had offered, and he gave her a half smile half smirk, showing off just a little bit of that gap between his teeth. She thought he looked good, though very under-dressed from the attire she'd met him in. His dirty blonde hair fell just perfectly above his eyebrows, slightly covering them, and curling out in a series of flips at the ends, which Spencer found absolutely adorable. He wore a royal blue lacrosse pennie with a crimson college-font U in the middle and white lacrosse sticks crossed behind it. It matched the sticker on his hatchback. She liked it because it showed his toned arms, which were much more muscular than she had originally thought, and some of his chest. She liked his shorts too, simple, khaki chinos, and his mid-calf royal blue socks, with a red under armour symbol, matching the one above the crimson U on his pennie.

"You look good today Walter. A couple years younger too." She laughed at that when he scowled.

"So ties and khakis add a few years?" he asked her.

"Yes, but not any inches." She laughed a little harder as his scowl deepened.

"It's not very funny, you obviously don't get what it's like to be short, or a guy, and then both at the same time." He said as his features relaxed. "But it doesn't bother me, you can make all the fun you want to. It won't make me any shorter, or any taller for that matter." He finished offering a smile, because he really didn't mind. And even if he did, he didn't think he could hold it against Spencer, not with the growing attraction to her looks, style, and personality, which he was having a hard time accepting the fact that this was happening, as he'd only just met her.

But even so, her presence, and just being in Rosewood in general was already doing wonders for his emotional health. Though he really did miss his best friends, Jake Huntington and Ian Duff. He honestly was thinking about inviting them to Rosewood, provided they keep his location a secret from her.

"Have you eaten?" Walter asked, feeling his own appetite set in, fueled by the marijuana.

"Yes, but you go ahead while I start thinking about what your house should look like." She smiled at him and advanced farther into his sitting room, which was really the only room that he planned on furnishing. The kitchen was organized. And he didn't know what he would do with the guest room or the study, he had a bedroom of his own after all.

He made pizza rolls, and opened a can of Monster, his drink of choice for energy, even over coffee.

"Want one?" he asked turning towards Spencer holding up the green and black can.

"No thank you." She said politely, but he could tell she disapproved of the choice.

"You have something against energy drinks? He asked her, amused.

"No I just prefer coffee, and I think those things are pretty unhealthy anyway. I don't care to have a sugar crash." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Could I make you some then? He asked. "Coffee."

"I'd like that, black please." She said turning away from him again to inspect the area with which she was working.

As she focused on her task at hand, Walter wasn't doing so well himself. He opened the freezer to take out coffee beans to grind for Spencer. He thought of asking which flavor, but then decided to surprise her. French Vanilla seemed appropriate, it was his favorite, maybe she liked it as well.

As Spencer walked around his living room, brow furrowed slightly with thought, he watched her as he ground coffee beans, thanking that she didn't turn to face him at the noise of the grinder, as he was staring shamelessly, taking in everything about her appearance, from her height, which he liked, to her slender frame, long legs, and toned ass. And back up to that braid. It suited her so well. So much so that he wished they knew each other well enough for him to give it a tug. He supposed that she wouldn't mind, though the gesture was childish, and once the thought was in his head he couldn't stop his stealthy advance towards Spencer, taking her by surprise as he gave her braid a gentle tug, but at the same time with enough force to get Spencer's attention.

And apparently arouse her as well. She turned to face him, a different look in her eyes, whereas before she'd been focused and intent on rearranging his living space, and now her gaze was unfocused and her eyes clouded slightly.

"What was that for?" she asked, her voice slightly lower than usual.

"Just an impulse." His smirk widened. "I didn't share this with you, or with anyone else ever, for that matter, but I really like braids. I guess you could say I have a thing for them." He finished slightly trailing off, wondering if he should tell her what else he had a thing for. And wondering if she would be shocked at all to find out it was none other than herself.

She flushed a little more at his confession, and tugged on her braid slightly while they held each other's gaze. She liked the smirk on Walter's face, like he knew what he was doing to her. In fact Spencer was sure he knew exactly what he was doing. And she wasn't about to protest. She liked Walter, he had manners, class, wit, and she didn't even want to go into looks. He was in her opinion the best looking guy in Rosewood, and she couldn't believe her luck that he moved in next door to her, and that she had gotten to him first.

She decided to pick up where he left off by asking, "What else do you have a thing for?" as though she'd read his mind.

He blushed at this, and as he was pale in complexion, of course she noticed. It was her turn to smirk at him. She liked knowing she could make him nervous too.

"Well, I know we've known each other for little more than twenty four hours, so this might be a little dangerous to admit, but I have a thing for you, Spencer." The flush receded from his handsome features, and there wasn't anything in his voice she could discern other than confidence, which she liked very much.

"I feel the same way even though it does seem a little bit crazy." She admitted, not sure if she could refrain from kissing Walter much longer, even though she wanted him to kiss her first.

"Well, we have another day after this before I start school, so would you want to do something tomorrow? As in, go on a date? With me?" he couldn't believe he was doing this. Twenty four hours. But he was realizing more and more every second they spent together, that when it came to Spencer Hastings, rationality wasn't foremost in his mind. Spencer Hastings was foremost in his mind, and he knew he wanted her, and he knew he wanted to be with her, at the way she smiled before replying to his question.

"I'd love to." She returned. "But you know," she said turning away from him, "We should finish this room. I'd like to see yours." She smiled coyly at him throwing him a heavy lidded dark look through her lashes, over her shoulder.

His jaw dropped slightly. Spencer Hastings wasn't shy. She wasn't nerdy. She wasn't anal. Not in Walter's opinion. She was what he wanted, what he needed. And as soon as she looked at him like that, he knew Spencer was in charge, as she was so used to being. He didn't find it emasculating though, it just increased his desire to touch her, and kiss her, and let himself be dragged up to his bedroom by Spencer, and his hormones. But he knew that rushing things was never a good idea. But he'd kiss her today. He'd kiss her goodbye when she left, if nothing else. He allowed himself a thought that could dangerously turn into a fantasy: If she left.

Spencer however, began instructing him on the placement of his television, and furniture, making the room cozier than he could ever have done himself. When he finished moving everything into place he excused himself to the foyer, returning with a box. He opened it and took out Xbox controllers, followed by the console itself, and began hooking it up to his television, he finished shortly and returned with games to stack next to the console.

Spencer sat on his couch and watched him. She liked the way he did everything he did. She found everything he did graceful and attractive. She found herself smiling at the way his tongue stuck out between his teeth when he focused, the way his brow furrowed, and he huffed frustrated sighs through his nose, while connecting all the wires to the Xbox then in turn to the television.

When he finished he turned to Spencer, and asked shyly, and a little quieter than he normally talked, "Would you still like to see my bedroom?"

He stood up and offered her his hand, not waiting for her reply, simply because he knew the answer. She smiled and stepped gracefully from the couch to the floor, keeping her hand in his hand and allowing him to lead her up the stairs to his room, getting butterflies in her stomach when he looked back at her and flashed her his gap-toothed smile.