I dreamily smile at her as she starts talking so animatedly to me about whatever is on her mind. It's so easy sometimes to simply take in her cute facial expressions and amusing body language and understand the reason why I've fallen for her. With her, it's the simple things that no one notices. The little details you find so endearing but that everyone else finds annoying. With Ashley, it's just her being herself around me in the intimacy of our space.
I still remember the day when she didn't feel like just the friend I had met at the age of six anymore. The day I stopped looking at her as the friend I could tell everything to, to the person that simply was everything to me. The day I learned both the tenderness and cruelness of love.
--
I see her completely enamoured with him. Giggling at his stupid jokes. Bringing her face closer to his, because the music is too loud for his whispering. Or that's what it's supposed to look like anyway. His hand smoothly making its way towards the small of her back and resting there when she doesn't flinch.
It's Friday night and this should be our girls' night out. This should be the night in which we go out and dance the night away, drink ourselves silly and laugh away everyone who dared to make a move on us. But tonight she broke each and one of those unspoken rules. Letting herself being swayed by his sharp tongue and suave moves. He's been preying after her since the start of the school year, but she dodged him every single time. But this last week was different.
This last week she laughed at his insipid jokes, she responded to his insistent flirting and never once rejected him like she used to do so effortlessly. I knew were it was leading but the naïve part of myself told me it was all in my imagination. But tonight, nothing was imagined and everything was painfully pictured.
She's slowly being backed against the wall beside the bar, her flirtatious smile never leaving her features, before he moves a lock of hair behind her ear with his large and calloused hand.
I don't even have a reason to dislike him. He isn't the kind of guy who's known to sleep around or treat his girlfriends like crap. He isn't a scumbag liar who acts like he's on top of the world, above everything and everyone else. He's just a sweet guy who fell for that bright smile and heart-melting eyes. He's just one of the pack who's standing in line for Ashley Davies. Standing in line for my best friend.
Her hands have found his waist and he does not wreck his chance to finally make a move on the girl he's been persuading for months. My guts start wrenching in the most painful manner and a sense of nausea is overcoming me. I see him leaning his head closer as Ashley shuts her eyes expectantly. The rest is completely missed on me as I quickly wriggle my way through the people and run towards the nearest bathroom. My breathing is erratic and I can feel my eyes swiftly welling up. I head in the first stall and immediately lock the door. I can feel my heart furiously thumping against my chest as I lean against the metallic door behind me. Tears are silently rolling down my cheeks and I strain myself to let out a scream of frustration because this is not justified. I have no reason, no right to act the way I am and to feel the way I'm feeling. Illogical thoughts course my mind at a mile a minute and flashbacks of every touch, every innocent kiss on the cheek are being displayed one by one in a film behind my closed eyelids. Trying to find some logic in my behaviour. Trying to pinpoint a moment, where this all happened before and lull my conscience to a blissful sleep.
"Spencer?" I quickly dry up my tears with the sleeve of my shirt as I hear her concerned voice echoing though the bathroom. I'm not surprised that she somehow still managed to pull herself away from her own world at that point and see that I had left. It was something that came so naturally to us. That sixth sense in which we always could find each other in a room packed of people. In which we'd always sense the discomfort and hurt of the other, no matter how hard we try to cover I up. But I don't think she'll be able to sense what's wrong this time, because it's still a mystery to me.
"Spencer, I know you're in there." She says from the other side of the door, " Please, come out." She quietly pleads. I close my eyes and inhale deeply in effort to calm down my emotions. Once I feel my heartbeat slowing down and my breathing finding its normal pace again, I hesitantly unlock the door. It takes me a moment to look up but when I do I immediately notice her guilty demeanour.
"Spencer, what's wrong?" She worriedly asks undoubtedly noticing the remains of my little emotional outburst," I swear if someone hurt you I'll-"
"Nobody hurt me." I interrupt her in a shaky voice. She steps closer to me, never losing the concerned tone of her face, and gently cups my head. Brushing away the traitorous tears that refuse to stop with the pads of her thumbs. The gesture soothes me but there's a nagging voice in the back of my mind that does not want to give in so easily. Demanding answers and explanations for my sweaty palms and fluttering stomach. Refusing to simply bask in this one peaceful moment that came out of this night.
"Spence, tell me what's wrong." She tells me one last time, knowing that there's a reason behind all of this.
"Nothing I'm just being stupid; I think it's hormones or something." I respond, shaking my head lightly.
"Last time I checked you weren't forty and you definitely weren't pregnant." She chuckles quietly, never leaving her hands from my face. "Spence, you know you can tell me anything." She softly urges me when she notices my hesitance in talking to her. This isn't something we're used to. We always talk to each other about everything, not leaving one detail out. We're each others diary we never fail to update with our latest secrets and musings. Yet here I find myself unable to open to her about whatever is happening at this point within me. Whatever that has been shaping for so long but that I unconsciously always blocked out. Because this is not right.
"I know." I sigh into the quiet room, while averting my eyes from her. She immediately tips my head back up, forcing my gaze to meet hers again.
"Promise me nothing is wrong?" She asks me firmly. Not wanting to let this go until I assure her, because she knows I would never lie to her. She knows if there's truly something wrong with me that I'll tell her right this moment, simply because she asked me. I swallow roughly on the lump in my throat before I answer her.
"I promise." I whisper. I do not know whether I lied or not, because I do not know whether this is really wrong. Whether these foreign thoughts that consume my mind and these unknown emotions are something that should not happen. I do not know whether what I'm feeling is a mistake or only a brief state of mind. I do not know what this is.
She leans in and presses her forehead to mine, gazing deeply in my eyes with her caring brown ones. We simply stand there for a few moments, completely still and lost to the muffled music that's pulsing through the walls.
"You now that it's always going to be you and me, Spence." She whispers, her hands still cupping my face, assuring me both mentally and physically of her omnipresence. "No one is ever going to take in your place. Ever." She tells me sincerely, "You'll always be my number one. Once together …"
"Never apart." I finish her sentence in a hush. The sincerity in which she talks to me is something I will never take for granted. It's that little piece of her that no one will ever get to see besides me and she has no idea just how thankful I am for that. She has no idea what this side of her does to me. What it evokes deep within me, and I don't think she'll ever know. Suddenly the pressure of her forehead against mine completely clouds my head. The soft hands that are caressing my cheeks ensue the fluttering of eyelids. And her hot breath makes my ignorance and naivety disappear for this brief and rare instant. But just as I'm about to act on it, she backs up from me and my momentarily braveness.
"Come on, let's go home. I got some cheesy DVD's that have got your name written all over them." She tells me with lazy smile before she takes my hand in hers and starts tugging me towards the exit.
"But what about-"
"You come first, Spencer. You always will." She tells genuinely, facing me completely to make sure I get the sincerity of her message. I lightly nod and flash her a lopsided smile, before she finally opens the door and lets me follow her lead.
--
"So do you wanna go?" She asks me hesitantly. I realize that my reminiscing caused me to miss a large part of her explanation, but the words 'party' and 'Friday' come to my mind and it's enough for me to get the picture.
"Sure." I shrug indifferently, but internally I'm already relishing another night together.
"Seriously?" She asks me, widening her eyes.
"Yeah, why not." I tell her warily, sensing that I might have a missed a part of the plan.
"Oh my God, this is great!" She squeals while she jumps on the bed next to me, "I swear Spence, you won't regret this. This guy is perfect for you."
Oh God, what have I gotten myself into.
