Title: Pratfall

Pairing: Spencer and Kyla

Summary: Spencer doesn't remember shit!

Rating: PG - I guess for language.

"Sure, but -- not the half you breathed all over. We have to work our way up to that." - Kyla Woods

"I know it sounds convoluted…" Kyla finishes with the Cliff Notes version of their small circle of friends.

"Yeah, and slightly incestuous, but not V.C. Andrews 'Flowers In the Attic' incestuous more like…'Dawson's Creek' incestuous. I mean -- everyone eventually ended up involved with each other in some form."

Kyla looks down at her green ballet flats. She thought she could pull them off, but she was questioning the fashion decision she'd made in haste this morning. "What do you think about my shoes?" She looks over at Spencer.

Spencer shrugs. "They're nice…"

"Honest opinion, Spencer."

"Honest opinion…."

Kyla nods. "Yes, honest opinion."

"Are you going to pirouette to class, Baryshnikov?"

Chapter One Part Two - Stranger Danger!

"HEY!" Kyla laughs and pushes Spencer's arm.

Spencer grins. "You said…honest opinion. So, you can't be surprised when I give you my…honest opinion." She stretches out those last two words.

"You don't like them?" Kyla lifts up her leg and twirls her ballet flat clad foot around.

"If you're not a ballet dancer you shouldn't wear ballet flats."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah,"

Kyla looks at Spencer's bright red Chuck Taylor's. "Explain those," She points at Spencer's shoes.

"Chucks are universal. You own a pair. Right?"

"Maybe, I do. Maybe, I don't." Kyla looks smiles and looks away.

Spencer points at her. "You do…"

"Okay, I do -- that doesn't mean that I agree with your views on ballet flats. I wasn't sure about wearing them, but I think they look great with what I'm wearing despite what other fashion challenged people might think of them."

"Oh, now I'm fashioned challenged?"

Kyla nods. "Yup,"

Spencer opens up her messenger bag and pulls out a small brown paper sack.

"What's in the bag?" Kyla asks, curiously leaning over and taking a peek inside.

"Lunch…" Spencer sighs. "my mother packed me a lunch."

There's something demoralizing about your mother packing you a lunch when your in high school and then having to open it in front of a girl that you think is nifty.

"Anything trade worthy?" Kyla asks.

Spencer hands over the sack to Kyla.

"We've got a peanut butter and jelly sandwich," Kyla pulls out a plastic sandwich baggie. "on wheat bread with the crust cut off."

"What do you think I could get for it? Take note that it's cut diagonally. That's kitsch,"

"That's kitsch?"

"Oh, yeah, definitely kitsch they cut it that way in the 50's or something. So, that adds to value of the sandwich."

Kyla laughs. "It's on wheat bread though. If it were on white bread…then it'd be a different story."

"Of course…" Spencer smacks her forehead. "white bread. I think my mother believes that a sack lunch will help me regain my memories." She shrugs.

"Well, sce is the strongest sense tied to memory."

Spencer opens up the baggie and pulls out one of the sandwich halves. She holds it up to her nose taking a whiff. "That didn't work." She puts the sandwich half back into the baggie.

Kyla smiles. "I had no idea you could be such a smart ass…I like it."

Why didn't we date?

"I hate to say this…" Kyla digs through the small brown bag. "you would be out of the lunch trades pretty early. You could probably get something for the cheese stick if we were in elementary school, but…were not. It's extremely nutritious though." She hands the sack over to Spencer.

"The piece de resistance," Spencer speaks in a corny French accent pulling a juice box out of her messenger bag. "Do you want half of my sandwich?"

"Sure, but -- not the half you breathed all over. We have to work our way up to that."

"Right," Spencer pulls out her half and hands the baggie over to Kyla.

"Thank you," Kyla pulls out the other half of the sandwich from the baggie and takes a bite.

Who knew sharing a peanut butter and jelly could be so…nice.

Spencer looks over at Kyla.

I guess it depends on the person you give your other half too. Oh, wow, that was lame. It's a good thing people can't hear my corny inner monologue.

"Great…" Kyla mutters underneath her breath, watching Aiden approach the bench they were sitting on.

"Have you talked to that film crew from MTV?" He doesn't wait for either one of them to reply. "They interviewed me."

I'm sure your pearls of wisdom were plentiful just like your muscles.

"They asked about life after the shooting." Aiden continues.

"Aren't they interviewing anyone who will talk to them?" Kyla points out with an undertone of glee in her voice. Aiden's self importance seemingly ascending to an epic level that Kyla was finding herself unable to tolerate.

"I think my thoughts and Spencer's on what happened at prom are a bit more important."

Don't drag me into this.

"Your thoughts are more valid than mine because a bullet your grazed your upper arm? I guess that means that Spencer's perspective is more valid than yours because she almost --" Kyla stops herself from finishing the rest of her sentence. "Is that what you mean?"

"That's not what I'm saying, Kyla." Aiden says defensively.

Kyla shrugs. "So, what are you saying, Aiden? Enlighten me." She challenges him.

Spencer grabs her juice box and sticks the straw in the top taking a long sip.

Yeah! Enlighten her, Aiden!

"That bullet could have hit a major artery." Aiden lifts up his sleeve, revealing a scar on his upper arm that was barely noticeable if you weren't looking for it.

"Sure…" Kyla rolls her eyes.

Spencer reaches up and rubs the spot on her T-shirt covering her scar.

"Spencer Carlin, right?"

Spencer turns her head and looks up at the guy in front of her. The two things that Spencer notices about him first is hiss pompadour reminiscent of a young Morrissey, and a pair of vintage brow-line horn rimmed glasses on. Then she notices the plugs in his ears the size of a quarter that were made to look like the top of a soda can.

"That'd be me."

"Bingo Adler," He holds out his hand.

Here's the wind up and the pitch…B-I-N-G-O…B-I-N-G-O…B-I-N-G-O…and Bingo was his name O! Yes, I am that immature.

Spencer shakes his hand. "Nice glasses, Bingo."

B-I-N-G-O….that never gets old.

"Thanks, I'm with the Viking -- the school newspaper." Bingo explains.

Aiden crosses his arms over his chest. "I didn't know you were a doctor, Kyla."

"I'm not, but I'm not a drama queen either."

Aiden holds up a hand. "Correct me if I'm wrong --"

"Oh, I will." Kyla cuts in.

Bingo slides his hands into the back pocket of his skinny jeans. "You know about MTV filming students talking about the shooting and life after?"

"Yeah," Spencer nods her head.

"The paper wants to cover the aftermath of the school shooting. I'm the guy that writes up the music reviews, but I want to contribute something substantial to this issue."

Aiden interlocks his fingers leaving two up and pressing them against his mouth briefly. "Were you shot?"

Kyla shakes her head. "No, and a bullet didn't graze my arm either."

"This acquired medical attention!" Aiden lifts up his sleeve and points to his scar.

"I could have given you a band aide. I've seen it before, Aiden. You don't have to keep pulling it out and showing it off." Kyla says unmoved by Aiden's bid for sympathy.

"I thought you liked it when I pulled it out and showed it off." Aiden grins, smugly.

Bingo looks over at the pair briefly. "Uh, do you think we could go somewhere else and talk?"

STRANGER DANGER! I need an ADULT! I need an ADULT!

Kyla laughs. "If memory serves me correctly I was practicing abstinence and you were practicing how to peer pressure a girl into having sex with you."

"Sure," Spencer stands up with her juice box in hand.

They take several steps away from Kyla and Aiden but remain within hearing distance of their argument.

"Are you that bitter, Kyla?"

"You're ridiculous, Aiden! This isn't about what happened at prom with Ashley." Kyla laughs. "I'm over that. I've been over that. This is about your asinine belief that your thoughts trump everyone else's because a bullet grazed your arm. I think it's a shitty thing to do -- milking that scar on your arm for all it's worth and it's really not worth that much."

"Do they always argue like that?" Bingo asks.

"I really don't know," Spencer takes a sip from her juice box.

"What I wanted to ask you --" He clears his throat. "Would you consider being interviewed for the paper?"

"It wouldn't be much of an interview. I don't remember anything about that night. I don't think I could give you any insight into the shooting."

"That's interesting though -- I could interview you about that." He suggests.

Who are you, Harriet the Spy? Leave me alone!

"I'm just not into talking about it."

Bingo nods. "I understand -- well I hope that you regain your memory of the shooting."

Gee…thanks…

"I mean -- that's not what I meant. You know what I mean though." He laughs.

Spencer nods. "Yeah, I do. Good luck with your article."

"Thanks,"

Spencer walks away from him.

"Milking it?" Aiden scoffs.

"Yes, milking it." Kyla repeats.

"He asked to interview me for the school newspaper." Spencer sits down next to Kyla.

"He did? BINGO!" Aiden calls out.

"Are you going to do it?" Kyla asks.

Spencer shakes her head. "I don't think spilling my guts in a high school newspaper is the best thing to do."

"Yeah," Bingo walks over to them.

"You're interviewing people about the school shooting?" Aiden asks.

"Yeah,"

"Well, if Spencer doesn't want to do it. You can interview me." Aiden offers.

"Yeah, thanks. I'll keep that in mind." Bingo says with a hint of sarcasm in his voice before walking away.

Spencer smiles.

I like that guy.

"Ashley," Kyla says, watching her sister walk over to them.

"Hey," Ashley focuses on Spencer.

"Ash, I was thinking about getting a tattoo," Aiden pulls up the sleeve of his shirt and points to his upper arm. "A tribal band,"

What an asshole...

"Just above my scar with the words 'carpe diem' connecting the tribal band." He explains.

"That's great, Aiden," Ashley brushes him off with a few words. "I need to talk to Spencer alone."

Kyla looks over at Spencer. "Are you going to be okay?"

Ashley makes a face.

Spencer nods. "Yeah,"

Kyla stands up. "Thanks for sharing your sandwich with me."

"You're welcome. We should do this again tomorrow." Spencer suggests.

"Sure, but, next time tell your mom to pack a better lunch." Kyla smiles. "Come on, Aiden." She grabs his arm and he begrudgingly walks away with her.

"Spencer, before you say anything," Ashley sits down next to Spencer. "I'm sorry. I know that I did a terrible thing, but I'd like to make it up to you if you'll let me."

That sounds rehearsed.

"That sounds rehearsed." Spencer says in a matter of fact tone.

Ashley is taken aback by Spencer's bluntness. "Rehearsed…"

"Yeah, rehearsed."

Ashley looks away. "I just -- I know that an apology isn't enough. I just didn't know how to deal with the thought of losing you, Spencer."

So, you went to Europe for two months?

"So, you went to Europe for two months?"

Kyla had filled Spencer in on Ashley's trip to Europe right after the shooting.

"I had too…I didn't know what else to do. I want another chance to prove myself."

"It doesn't matter,"

"It doesn't?" Ashley looks surprised, but is secretly relieved.

"I don't remember…prom or what happened after…"

"Spencer," Ashley reaches out for Spencer's hand, but Spencer quickly draws back her hand.

Spencer had a problem with being touched. She had to get use to a person before she could feel somewhat with a simple touch.

Ashley looks wounded for a moment.

"There's a lot of things that I don't remember…family, friends, and you." Spencer says.

Ashley frowns. "This is you trying to get back at me for going to Europe. I know I should have called, but…" She trails off because Ashley didn't have a good excuse. What could she say? Except for sorry and beg for Spencer to take her back.

"This is me being honest with you. I don't care about Europe. I'm sorry the other me -- the me before the shooting would have cared, but that's just not who I am anymore."

Ashley looks down hurt, but still unwilling to believe that Spencer could forget her. She could never forget Spencer. How could Spencer forget her?

"I have frontal lobe damage. Which effected my memory…it wiped it clean."

"I saw you --" Ashley looks up. "I saw you talking with Kyla and Aiden."

"Yeah, but, I don't remember them, and Kyla knows that. I really didn't feel the need to explain that to him though."

"If you didn't want to talk to me…you could have just said that you didn't want to talk to me." Ashley stands up.

"I didn't say…"

Ashley walks away before Spencer can finish her sentence.

Great…

Spencer stands up and instantly feels light headed. She sits back down on the bench with a thud. She feels like she can't breath and is gasping for air. She closes her eyes and tries not to panic. She knows what this is and if she panics she knows she'll only make it work worse.

Feedback

AbsoluteGarbage

Here is some more for you to read.

Catastrofairy

Thanks, I'm going for the funny with this story. It's good to know that readers are getting it and enjoying it. I figured there was more than enough Spashley stories around and that I should try a different pairing and see how readers would respond to it. I think it's nice to have choices aside from Spencer/Ashley stories.

Sooragameela87

I understand the two chapter rule. It's kind of a let down when you read something promising and the author ends up never updating it! I'm glad that you decided to take a chance on this story.

Dttdemon

Interesting…that's good, right?

Teryiyakiskater

Yup, loosing your memory is a scary thing, but it's been over three months since the shooting and Spencer going back to school. It doesn't make things any less scary for her, but you know what I mean because of the last scene in the second chapter and Spencer having a panic attack. I think -- at least this Kyla and Spencer are cute together.

XburningbrightX

Yay! A Spyla fan!

Valentine.Nolan

Thanks for taking the time out to review. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised at the speed of updates because I already have a couple of chapters written.