Ashley A. smiled and flipped her blonde hair. "Let's go over to your house, Ashley Q."
"Oh yeah, totally," said Ashley T.
"You have to show us the new curtains around your bed," said Ashley B., thinking quickly.
"Oh yeah," said Ashley Q. She'd almost forgotten about those.
"I can't wait to see that dog of yours again, Ashley Q. Totally adorable!"
"Oh yeah, totally," agreed Ashley T.
"I've never gotten to see it," said Ashley B.
"Oh no way!" said Ashley A.
"I know!" said Ashley T.
"That settles it," said Ashley Q. "You're coming over right now. I'll just call Mom and tell her."
"Please do!"
So the girls all headed over to Ashley Q.'s house—but little did she know that the other three girls were planning to peek in her diary. That was the real reason for the sudden visit. Ashley law stated that an Ashley's diary was private and personal up until the point at which all other Ashleys had voted unanimously that something was amiss and that further investigation into the remaining Ashley's life was required, thus rendering the privacy of said Ashley as moot in the light of protecting said Ashley and the rest of the group—and that if doing both was not possible, the group was to be protected, and not the single Ashley, for the good of the rest of the Ashleys and their way of life.
The tip-off that something wasn't quite right? Ashley Q. had worn the same outfit twice within a two-week period. There was a chance that she had just been preoccupied with the prospect of the shopping spree she supposedly had been about to take over the weekend with her aunt from Paris. Ashley T. hoped that was really all that was troubling her.
They feigned enthusiasm for the curtains on the bed. They had to get Ashley Q. out of her own bedroom, and they knew it. "Dog," Ashley T. mouthed to Ashley B.
"So, Ashley Q.," said Ashley B., taking the hint, "can I see Fawn now?" What kind of a name was Fawn for a poodle?
"Oh, yeah! Hey, didn't you want to say hi to her again too, Ashley A.?"
Ashley A. wanted to stay, desperately wanted to stay and search for the diary. She nodded enthusiastically, though, playing her part. "Yes!"
"I think I'll study your line-up, if that's okay," said Ashley T. warmly. Ashley Q. nodded and led the other two down the stairs again. Ashley T. immediately stepped into action.
She did indeed look at the clothing hanging in the closet, and felt her mouth go dry. She couldn't see a single new item. No weekend shopping spree, then? Or just no purchases? She was really worried now. After a few guesses of hiding locations, she found the diary beneath Ashley Q.'s pillow. There was no lock. Ashley T.'s fingers danced as they flicked through heart-covered pages. She stopped on the last entry. She read something about the visit being great, but not feeling like shopping.
She went back an entry. Still no explanations. Then back a few more and—oh . . . was that senior Max she was talking about? How could she possibly turn him down for a date? She furiously flipped a few more pages back.
Oh. That was why. Awkward.
Ashley T. let the news sink in for only a short moment before replacing the diary beneath the pillow and standing to look inside the closet again. She grabbed a hanger that held a purple, sequined dress and held it in front of herself in the full-length mirror, just so as not to draw suspicion when the Ashleys returned.
"You like that one?" asked Ashley Q.
"Yeah, I do," said Ashley T.
"You could wear it to Homecoming this year," said Ashley Q. with a smile.
"Really? Thanks, Ashley Q. You're so sweet." And gay.
"No problem."
But there was a problem. Ashley T. was nervous. She wasn't sure what she should do. Did she tell the other Ashleys, or did she keep it a secret? For a moment, a frown of deep thought passed over her countenance. Would Ashley Q. be in trouble with the Ashley law? Should she say nothing? But . . . what if Ashley Q. told them herself, or if the truth came out somehow. What if one of the other girls looked in the diary? Ashley T. wondered how on earth she would weasel her way out of any of that.
So . . . Ashley Q. was, like, so totally a lesbian. Like . . . wow.
And, just when these thoughts were raging inside of her, Ashley B. asked her if she was alright. She nodded slowly. "Can I see your straightener really quick, Ashley Q.?" she almost winced at the notion that the item was meant to make things, well, straight. Which Ashley Q. was apparently not.
"Yeah!" said Ashley Q.
"You can just stay in here with Ashley A. I wanted to straighten Ashley B.'s hair earlier, but I don't have my own straightener." Not that I need one, she thought with a bit of humor in her eyes, I'm the one who's straight already.
"Okay," said Ashley Q. with a shrug.
"Ashley B.," Ashley T. whispered as she started to work on the dark hair.
"What?" asked Ashley B.
"I found something."
"What?"
"Ashley Quinlan is . . . gay."
"No way."
"Yes way," she hissed in reply, trying to keep very quiet. Ashley Q. couldn't find out it was her who blabbed. "So, do we tell Ashley A.?"
"Oh, we have to now," said Ashley B.
"We could just forget about it," Ashley T. said. "For, you know, the good of the Ashleys."
"No," said Ashley B. ominously, "it's for the good of the Ashleys that we're going to tell Ashley A. And ASAP."
"Maybe you're right." She hoped she was. But she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she wasn't.
