Disclaimer: I do not own anything. All disclaimers belong to Tom Lynch and The-N.

Chapter 2: It's a Small World-After All Spencer's POV

Detention is over and I'm glad to get home again and rest. Thank God it's Friday. I have the whole weekend, after I get my homework done, to just unwind.

After a long, hard day at school or work, my family gathers together to have dinner. To left of me, is my mom, who is seating at the head of the table, graciously, eating her meal. She smiles at me and I do the same. My dad, on the other end, is eating his dinner tranquilly. He usually is the spokesperson at dinner, but tonight seems different. He doesn't pick up his head to look back at me, but I know he knows I'm looking. Something doesn't seem right.

As I gaze around the table to speculate my family, I hear the slurping, chomping, and gulping of Glen's mouth right in front of me. I place my fork down ever so gently on the table and fold my hands together. I stare at his actions, waiting for him to pick up his head and notice I don't like how he's producing so much noise.

After a few moments, he realizes the silence and looks up at me. With a mouth full of food he utters, "What?"

I look down at his plate and start giggling. I respond, "You know, I could get a shovel from the garage. It would be a lot easier for you to shovel food in your mouth."

He opens his mouth to respond, but he stops and washes down all of the food in his mouth. He lets out an enormous burp, which has to be fanned away from my face due to the aroma it created. Finally, he says, "Shut up."

Mom drops her fork at on her plate, causing a loud noise and says to Glen, "Glen, both your burp and your language is not acceptable at the table."

He blurts out an excuse, "But she started!"

She informs, "And how much older are you?"

Another excuse slides out of his mouth, "I'm only two years older than her. That shouldn't justify anything."

"Yes it does- she has a point. Why are you eating so fast?"

"Well, I'm supposed to be meeting this girl tonight. I was hoping I could bring her over later to meet you guys?" he seems to ask and demand at the same time.

"Yea that's fine, Glen. Who's the girl?"

He ponders quite a bit, which explains he doesn't even know her name. He answers, "I don't know, but she's a really cool girl."

I couldn't refuse to say, "Ha figures. Glen can't even take the time to learn the girl's name."

"Spencer," Mom interrupts. She has the disappointed look on the face, cueing me to stop antagonizing Glen.

I apologize, "Sorry, Glen. So when shall we expect you to bring her over?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'm going over her house after dinner and staying there for a little bit. She lives only a few houses away from here, so it won't take long. I'll be back home after that."

"Cool," I say simply. I generate a fake smile and say, "Can't wait to meet her."

***

Dad knocks on my doorway to get my attention. He greets me, "Hey, Spence." Before I can reply, he looks down at my homework I'm working on and asks, "How's the homework coming along?"

I scuff my voice and speak in disgust, "These crazy teachers of mine must have fun giving students tons of homework over the weekend. I bet they have a little game where they all get together and have a contest to see who can give out the most homework on the weekend. Then the winner receives a bonus for that week." Dad just laughs at me for coming up with that assumption. I ask, "What? You think it's funny to give students so much homework over the weekend?" At least he's acting like himself, now.

He stops laughing and says, "No. I just think it's funny how you've managed to spend time thinking about that while you could've been spending it on getting your homework done."

I squint my eyes, creating an evil look. He has a point, though. I should really be getting my homework -.

"Spencer! Ben! Glen's home!" Mom screams from the foyer. Dad and I look at each other. It's a race. I jump from my chair and race Dad to the foyer to be the first one to see this "wonderful" girl. Our feet pounce on the wooden stairs, making the sound echo throughout the whole house.

I focus on my feet as I race down the stairs, not paying attention to anyone standing in the foyer. I reach the end and I brag, "Ha! Beat cha!" My heart's going a mile a minute as I breath heavily, in and out. I turn around to look at Glen, Mom, and the girl staring at me. I take a double take at the girl--Ashley?

Her eyes widen at the sight of me, but she doesn't say anything. I look at Ashley in astonishment, almost drooling because I'm in shock. Glen snaps me out of my gaze by saying, "Well are you glad you got that out of your system? Way to make me look good."

Ashley corrects him, "Glen, it's fine. I thought it was funny." She looks at me with a smile and informs, "But I think your dad won. He had his arm stuck out."

With nothing better to say, I say, "Thanks."

"Well enough of this chit chat," Glen interrupts, yet again.

Mom looks at Glen and Ashley and says, "Yes. You two make yourselves at home in the family room. I'll go make some coffee." Mom and Dad march into the kitchen and I follow, not wanting to follow Glen and Ashley because it would be awkward to just sit there with the two of them.

Mom wasn't expecting me to follow so she says, "Oh, hey Spence. What's up?" She grabs the coffee container and a measuring spoon.

I lie, "Oh, nothing. I just wanted to see if you guys needed any help with anything." I twiddle my thumbs.

Dad grabs the coffee pot and fills it with water. He hands it to Mom and interferes, "Oh how nice, but what's really up?" He knows me too well.

I lie again, this time with a serious face, "Nothing, really." I grab a napkin on the table and begin to play with it.

"Ok, whatever you say," Mom says as she scoops the coffee grinds into the prepared pot. "So what do you think of Ashley? She seems like a really nice girl."

I say, "Yea."

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15 minutes later

Mom carries over the tray of cups while I bring over the milk and sugar and Dad brings over the pot. We settle everything down on the designated coffee table in the family room. I try not to pay attention to how Glen and Ashley are all "cute"-as Mom would call it- together. It just doesn't seem right to me- the two of them together.

Mom, Dad, and I sit divvy up between the two remaining couches and we get comfortable. I mumble to myself, "Here we go." Fortunately, no one heard that so let's press on, shall we?

Dad starts off first, "So, Ashley, are you from around here?"

She smiles and simply says, "Yep, been here all my life."

Mom asks, holding up the pot towards Ashley, "Would you like some coffee?"

Ashley shakes her head, "No, I can't. I just joined the local Coffee Addicts Anonymous program in town so I really can't have coffee."

Mom and Dad are way too gullible to see that as a joke, but Glen and I both know somewhere along that speech, something was altered. Mom has the guts to say, "Really? They actually have those here?" Mom leans back with her coffee in her hands into Dad's arm, cradling her.

Ashley comes clean, "Actually, no. I wish they did because I think I need it. I'm way too addicted to coffee." She stops. "That was just an icebreaker."

She must use ridiculous stories all the time to "break ice." Yet, I don't see that as a negative. I think it takes a lot of creativity to come up with the things she does. She should be a comedian! I would definitely see her perform.

Mom laughs in embarrassment, "Oh. Well, you fooled me."

Dad leans forward, releasing Mom from his arms. He asks, "So besides creating ice breakers, what else do you do?"

She gazes her eyes around the room, thinking. She answers, "Well, I go to school at Liberty High. Then, depending on my schedule, I work at the local deli- Meats n' Eats. Uhm..." She stops.

I like her thinking face it looks…cute? Did I just say that?

She continues, "I like to write, read, drawing. Pretty much anything dealing with artsy things." She stops again. Ashley speaks suddenly, like a light bulb came on, "I write my own music. Well, sort of. I'm trying to. I really like expressing my thoughts and experiences through art or my music. So, I'm thinking of becoming a musician or something. "

Mom and Dad nod their heads as they listen to her monologue. Mom finally says, "I think that's terrific. I think its great how you know what you want and a such a young age." She smiles and directs her words toward Glen, "You really picked a winner."

Glen looks into Ashley's eyes, "I did, didn't I?" He kisses her cheek.

I'm officially disgusted by the whole situation. Glen shouldn't be with her. She's too good for him. She deserves better. Glen can barely care for himself, how could he be able to care for another person. This makes me frustrated and…really sick.

I lay my hands over my stomach, feeling something about to be projected out of my mouth. I ask Mom, "May I be excused?"

Before turning around to look at me she says, "Yea, honey." She turns around to see I don't look too well. "What's wrong?"

In a matter of seconds I'm out of the family room and in the bathroom where I hold my hair back and let my vomit splash into the sink. The aroma fills the air of the petite bathroom. I hear the stomping of feet coming towards the bathroom. Dad enters the confined room with his nose plugged by his fingers. He lets his nose go after he sees me and asks, "Are you okay?"

The last of the vomit is out and I grab a tissue to wipe my mouth. I turn on the sink to wash it all away. I say, "Yea. I'll be fine now."

In a concerned tone he replies, "Are you sure? It's not like you to just get up and do this. Something's wrong. Tell me what's up."

I lie angrily, "Dad, I'm fine. Nothing's wrong, really." I push him off to the side and storm out of the bathroom and into my room. Probably not the smartest decision, but I couldn't stand being around Glen and Ashley's "cuteness."

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Monday

I get into the class just in time before the last bell rings. I grab the first available seat I see, not paying attention to where I want to sit. Mrs. Stark stands in front of the classroom to start off attendance. I go off in a daze, thinking about random things like English class, Ashley, School…Ashley. For some reason, I can't get her out of my mind. It's probably just because she was the first person to talk to me here and was so nice in doing so that I can't get her out of my mind. "Spencer Carlin," Mrs. Stark says out loud.

I jump out of my daze and answer, "Here."

I can't believe it took me so long to realize who Mrs. Stark was. I had her for English for those three days and then detention, but yet, I didn't see the connection. But now that I know who this teacher is and how she treats Ashley, it'll be interesting to see how she acts in class.

A couple minutes later and the attendance is done. She announces, while the clipboard is still in her hand, "Class, I'm gonna assign you seats today."

Awesome. One loud groan is expressed from the whole class, except me.

She continues, "It's gonna be in alphabetical order."

The classroom groans even louder.

She assures, but probably lying, "It'll only be for a little while. It's just so I can get to know my students. I have to learn 75 students names and…"

I lose her at that. I hate when teachers complain about things that involve their lives and, yet, they can't stand when we give it right back. They all think their lives are the only ones that are important. If I could find the world's smallest violin, I would play it for all of them just to show how annoying it is for them to rant on about their lives while the students have to sit there and listen. If we don't, we get punished. Its amazing- ridiculous authority figures come up with these things.

"Spencer Carlin," Mrs. Stark demands.

I come out of my daze, again, but this time she realized I was in it. I answer innocently, "Yes?"

She replies with an angry tone, "Would you please come and sit behind Mike?"

I take my books and obey her orders. I don't like her tone and I'm sure as hell not going to let her do this all semester.

"Ashley Davies," She demands again.

Awesome? I don't know whether to be glad or mad I have to sit next to her. It'll be awkward having to sit next to my brother's girlfriend. But on the other hand, she's so full of life and so great to be around and it only took one detention to realize that.

Ashley dumps her books on the desk, making a loud sound that Mrs. Stark, incredibly, ignores. She immediately starts interrogating me, "So, what happened Friday?"

I don't look at her to see her reaction when I say, "I don't know. It seemed like you were going out with my brother and didn't forewarn me."

She says sharply, "Well excuse me, but how was I supposed to know you two were related. Neither of you told me your last name." She stops to look at me. "Come on. I wouldn't have done it one purpose if I knew you were going to get so mad over it."

I look at her, but give her an angry face.

She says, "If you stay mad at me, then how am I going to 'fight the power'?" She nods her head towards the old lady in the front.

In a monotone voice I reply, "You couldn't." I can't refuse to smile.

She smiles back, "There you go. There's that smile." She pauses. "If it makes you happy, I'll break up with your brother. I'll just use the 'it's-not-you-it's-me' line."

I laugh and say, "No, please don't. My brother seems really happy to be with you. Maybe he'll turn out to be less of a jerk if you stay with him long enough."

"Okay," she says merely. She lightly taps my shoulder to get my attention and says, "Hey we get to hang out more if I stay with your brother."

I totally ignore what she says and say, "Sorry to change the subject, but do we live in the same neighborhood?"

She answers with a question, "Willow Brooke area?"

"Yea."

"Yea. I think Glen told me we're only a few houses away from each other. Isn't that awesome?"

I say slyly, "It sounds dangerous."

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Ashley's POV

"Kyla! Where are you?" I scream into the house as soon as I get in. I wait a few seconds for an answer, but there isn't one. "Kyla!"

Mom walks towards me, wearing her apron and drying her hands with a dishtowel. She answers instead, "She's not home yet. She said she was going to be late because of some senior project she was working on with her friends."

I say in disappointment, "Oh. Do you know when she'll be back?"

She shrugs her shoulders, "I really don't know." I can tell she sees the distress in my face because she asks, "What's wrong, honey?"

"Nothing. I just need to talk to her really quick, but can't because she's not home," I come clean.

"Ash, you can talk to me. I won't bite," she reaches her hand out to stroke my arm.

"I know you won't, but this is something that I need advice from a sister- not a mother who would give advice that would lead to the 'right choice'," I form a fake smile as I hike up the stairs and into my bedroom.

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Later that night

I have my ear buds to my iPod stuck in my ears. The music protects my ears from any surrounding sounds they might catch. Usually, the consistent beat of a song helps me concentrate on my homework, but not tonight. Tonight I have too many things on my mind and I can't even figure out my homework. It's too complicated for me right now. I'll bother Dad later to help me.

I slide my books over to the other side of the bed so I can lean my head back and rest on my backboard. I slowly close my eyes to just relax for a few moments.

There's a knock at the door along with a slow opening door. Kyla enters the room asking, "Ashley?"

I open my eyes to see Kyla standing in front of me, calling my name. I rip the ear buds out of my eyes. She says, "Mom said you needed to talk to me? She said you looked like something wasn't right. Is everything okay?"

I stutter, "Yea—well, no." I make up a story so I can protect my version of it. "So there's this friend of mine."

Kyla nods her head and says, "Mhm."

I continue, "And she has this boyfriend who is really nice and really outgoing and a lot of fun to be with."

Kyla knows where I'm going with this because she says, "…But?"

"BUT she met this really great girl who is really nice and really outgoing and a lot of fun to be with, but she doesn't know what to do," I bite my lip, waiting for her response.

"Is she gay?"

Ideas rush through my brain of how to answer that. I come up with, "She's not sure. That's why she's confused because she really likes this girl and yet, she really likes her boyfriend."

"Is she attracted to the girl?"

I say this too suddenly and too honestly, "Yes."

Kyla's taken back a little by that. She responds with, "Well, then I think you've gotta tell her to go with her heart. If she feels she would be better off with this girl, who she obviously likes, then she should be with her or vice versa." I tilt my head down in disappointment. That doesn't help me one bit. "But also tell her that she'll know, when the time comes, who she needs to be with—who will be the better pick. Everything will be fine."

If only she were in my shoes.