The words have barely left my lips before my mother jumps out of her chair and attempts to squeeze the life out of the girl next to me. "I'm so happy to finally meet you!" She looks a step away from bouncing up and down. "Spencer here hasn't shut up about you for days. All I've heard is... Um…" she trails off and looks toward me for what I assume is a name.

How am I supposed to know her name? I just met the girl for God's sake. I decide to guess her name. Looking at her quickly, I notice how bad her clothes are. Nice pick, Carlin, next time why don't you head straight for the woman who sleeps on the bench? I roll my eyes, more than bored.

"Henrietta," I suddenly throw out there, no emotion in my voice. My mother couldn't be more relieved.

"Henrietta, Henrietta, Henrietta. It's like a broken record. You have no idea how much I've wanted to use the tranquilliser gun on her." Another loud and obnoxious laugh cuts through the palpable tension.

Oh mother, if only.

The fashion reject suddenly pipes up with, "Actually, my name is Ashley…." She's looking at me like I have two heads and my barely-there patience begins to waver.

"Henrietta is more of a nickname, Mom." Plausible. Nice one, Spence.

Apparently ignoring my last comment, my mom stares intently at fish girl next to me. "So Ashley, how did you and Spencer meet?" she pries, her smile never faltering.

I feel a headache coming on and there's no way in hell I'm letting what's-her-name ruin this. We only have an hour to get through before I never have to see her again, probably sooner if Paula remembers she has errands to run.

Opening my mouth, I'm shocked to hear the brunette's voice before my own. "Actually, Spencer and I don't-"

I cut her off immediately. "Don't know how we lived without each other." I look over to her doing yet another fish impression and smirk. "Right, baby?"

She stops for a moment before sitting up a little straighter and smiling at me. "Right."

My mom is practically foaming at the mouth from hearing our exchange.

Now, this isn't so bad. Keep up the good work, Carlin. My celebration is cut short.

"I'd love to tell you about the first time I knew your daughter was… special," Ashley says.

Paula flashes her a grin before letting out an excited squee.

What did I tell you? Total 'mo.

I'm suddenly interested to hear what lame scenario she's thought up and make no attempt to silence her.

"We go to school together. I had a free period before lunch a few weeks ago and I was on my way to the parking lot when I hear somebody singing…"

My stomach nearly drops out of my ass.

Oh shit.

"…and I walk towards the music room to discover our Spencer here, one of the most unapproachable girls in the school, belting out an Olivia Newton John classic!"

I don't need a mirror to know how red I am. That bitch is going *down*.

Paula chuckles along at my expense. "Oh yes, Spencer does love those oldies, no matter how humiliating they are." She takes a long sip of her drink and focuses her attention on a face-pulling contest with a boy who looks about six. It takes everything I have inside not to kick her underneath the table.

My attention is suddenly pulled back to the girl next to me. "No, I thought it was cute," she says without a trace of malice. She's smiling at me.

I smile back.

Whoa, where the hell did that come from? Indifferent expression now firmly back in place? Check.

Apparently my mother also has the attention span of a six-year-old as she re-focuses her attention back to us.

"Ashley, what exactly are your intentions with my daughter?"

Unless of course it comes to my personal life.

I decide to save her from that question. "You know what? I just realised that…Ashley here doesn't have a drink." I look at my mom intently. "Mom, do you mind?" I nod toward the counter.

"Of course not, sweetheart." She gets up from the table. Thank god. "I'll just give you two girls a moment alone."

I'm surprised my eyeballs are intact; rolling them so much can't be good for them. Paula should come with a health warning.

Letting out a relieved sigh I pat my pockets, searching for my cigarettes.

"You want to tell me what the hell you think you're doing?" she growls at me as soon as my mother is out of earshot.

Who does she think she is, talking to me like that?

"I don't remember saying you could speak," I snap, already knowing I don't have a leg to stand on. Pride (non rainbow variety) getting in the way.

Gasping, she replies, "Oh no, I'm so sorry Princess Spencer. Please don't deport me back to my native land, I promise I'll be good!"

Wait for it…yep, there it is. The sarcasm is now dripping off the table and onto the floor.

"You're pissed?" I ask her incredulously. "If anybody should be pissed here, it's me." I turn away from her and take a deep breath to calm myself, suddenly wishing I hadn't as the unmistakable stench of baby poo reaches my nose.

Hey lady, your 'precious angel' needs a diaper change. Or perhaps a colon detox. What the hell is in baby food these days?

"Oh of course, because everything else is revolved around you, right?" She doesn't let me interrupt. "You were dragged in here by a complete stranger to play happy families; to be bitched at for being nothing but nice to you; to have the person who should be thanking you yell and then sulk like a child!"

I notice she's getting a little red from shouting back at me. I almost laugh.

"To sit here yelling at you while all I can smell is baby crap! To sit across from a woman who looks more into me than our 'relationship.' She actually air quotes that one. I give her a mental prop. "To have someone threaten you before assaulting your mouth."

Oh please, it was just a peck. As if I'd want to kiss that again.

"Exactly what I thought," is her final comment—for now.

I let her outburst sink in for a while before answering. "We aren't complete strangers... we go to school together, right?" I try sheepishly.

She scoffs at me. "Whatever sweetie, you owe me."

Yeah, right. Over my dead body.

"Forget about it."

"Okay, but when your mom gets back she's going to know everything," the last word is more sung than spoke.

She's getting on my last nerve. "Fine, I don't care. Think about it and get back to me whenever."

I finally turn around and see the biggest triumphant smile on her face. It makes her nose crinkle up at the top.

Oh my god. Look somewhere else, anywhere else... her rack! That'll do. Hmm, not bad.

I find myself wondering what colour her eyes are and take note of her seemingly flawless skin. When my eyes lock onto hers, I find I can't look away. They're deep and bright and just a little bit misplaced on her, judging from her first impression.

The air changes and it's not because 'demon diaper' has left. I decide to break the silence that surrounds us. "I hate your clothes," I reply, my gaze never leaving hers.

"You sound like Barney when you sing."

She's trying not to laugh and I break our stare to see her biting her lower lip. I imitate her earlier fish face. Noticing my mom who apparently got held up talking to a friend, she turns to me and taps her watch, seemingly having remembered something important we have to leave because of.

I stand and grab my jacket off the empty seat at the table, she does the same. "I guess a thank you is in order..." I trail off.

"A 'thank you' from Spencer stick-up-her-butt Carlin?" she teases.

I pick at a loose thread. "Yeah. Only a small thank you, though. I mean, anybody would have done the same thing, you're no saint."

She's smiling faintly at me and decides to put me out of my misery. "You're welcome."

I wonder of my mom is watching us. I chance a quick look in her direction that confirms my suspicions. Of course she's watching us.

Awkwardly leaning in to hug Ashley, she gives me a brief, chaste kiss at the side of my mouth that I can't quite believe. "Your mom is watching," she explains quickly.

Yeah... still awkward.

She's looking toward my mom now. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Ashen," she replies, cracking up from her lame attempt at humour and portmanteau. I roll my eyes, deciding it best to just sigh.

Ashley turns to look at me one last time before leaving. "See you at school, Barney."

And we're back with the eye roll. Lovely.