This is the last chapter I posted when this fic first appeared. After this, brand new material! As always, hope you enjoy!

xo,

Kaitlyn

Chapter 4: Ashley's POV

~January 20, 2008~

It had been four months. Well, four months and six days. And I still felt like Spencer was the only person I could be with for the next century or so. And even though I wasn't one to think that two souls could be compatible forever, I somehow thought that maybe Spencer's soul would change my mind. And so far, it was working.

I had done so many things differently with her. For one, I was taking things slow. Our first night, the night I was publicly humiliated and Spencer came to the rescue, I knew I had a good thing. And although I thought she was the most angelic looking creature I had ever seen and even though it broke my heart all over again every time she so much as glanced my way, I had put her in the Just Friends Zone for fear of breaking her heart, and maybe to protect my own in the event she didn't feel the same way. But that night (or should I say morning), when she started touching me, when I couldn't take it any more, I broke down every barrier I had put up. But after our kiss, I knew I had to stop her from going too far. I wanted her to keep going, I did, but I just couldn't. I cared about her too much.

And that feeling all by itself was weird. I didn't care about people like that. Period.

Another thing: she had me completely questioning everything. I mean, if you had asked me four months and seven days ago if there was a difference between a jock and a banshee, I'd say no. But today, I couldn't say that. Because Spencer was a jock. A very, very talented jock. And I knew for a fact that her tongue would win the gold medal at the Olympics if there were such a category.

It dawned on me that I missed Spencer. Normally, on a Sunday morning, I'd be sulking around the house waiting patiently (well, not really, but still) for Spencer to call after she got home from church. But today, I was peering out into a quiet street in Nottingham. I was hours away from Spencer time.

I wished I wouldn't have planned this trip. My intentions when I bought the tickets (before school even started) were to reconnect with Melissa, who once lived in L.A. with me. And when I said "with me" I meant she literally lived in the room next to mine for six months. She was my mom's attempt to try and get me to do the foreign exchange thing. I didn't think I'd like her. But I did. And I thought I loved her, which was why I flew out to see her this weekend. After she flew home and I decided not to stay in London for six months, she had wanted to call it quits. So I complied, but asked if I could come out on one of my long weekends to see her. She said yes, and at the time I had taken it as my hint to rekindle our little romance.

But then I met Spencer and every idea of love I held so close had floated away along with my will to not think about others and my strong tendencies toward selfishness.

But I was here, and the view was nice and I had been pleasant with Melissa, who I did still care for at least a little. I just didn't care for her kisses or playful back massages anymore.

"Ash?" I sighed and looked back to a scantly dressed Melissa. She leaned into the glass, only letting her head poke out onto the balcony. Even in paper thin tanks, she didn't do it for me. I hadn't even seen Spencer naked yet, and I already knew Melissa had nothing on her.

I knew this was going to be 'the talk' she wanted to have. And I bit my lip. I had to tell her about Spencer. I had to watch her cry. I hated watching girls cry. Well, except for Spencer, of course. Her tears were allowed on my shirts any time. Even my dad's precious rocker vest.

"What's up?" I wondered if my smile was convincing enough.

"Well, I was just seeing if you wanted to watch a movie or something. I mean, my bed's pretty comfortable. I remember when you used to stay in it long enough for me to-"

I held a hand up to her face. There were tears coming down my cheeks. I wasn't supposed to be the one to cry. I never cried. "Melissa, stop, just stop."

I brushed past her, not even taking the time to glance down at her once perfect chest.

"Ash, don't cry!" Her feet were padding behind me. I took the first right into the first door I saw and realized I had ended up in the bathroom. I slammed the door shut, locked it, and collapsed on top of the toilet. "Ash, please, let me in."

"Melissa, I can't do this anymore. I know I was supposed to stay until tomorrow, but I just can't."

There were a good ninety seconds of pure silence. It gave me a chance to clean out my lungs. Out with the old and in with the new. Yeah. That was easier said than done.

"Do you not want to be with me?"

Her voice was quiet as a mouse's squeak and all I wanted to do was swing the door open and crawl into her embrace, give her the biggest hug in the history of hugs, and make sure she was okay. I guessed all the barriers Spencer had managed to break down didn't only apply to her. Once I started to care about her, I'd started to care about everyone I knew. And Melissa was no different, even if she didn't mean what Spencer meant to me.

I walked over to the door, unlocked it, and turned the knob enough for the door to open slightly. I returned to the toilet and sighed. This was not exactly the setting I had hoped for when Melissa and I had this conversation. Spencer's name deserved better than an outdated London flat bathroom. Melissa deserved better than a bathmat for a seat.

"Ashley, please, just for once let me in your thoughts."

I squeezed the last tears out and was relieved my mini breakdown was over. I took her fingers gently, picking her up off of the floor and leading her to the living room. Her couch was the most comfortable place for this conversation. When we sat down, I draped an oversized blanket around her shoulders. She pulled it closer to her, but let her hand stick out. Against my better judgment, I took it.

"Melissa?"

"Thank god. I seriously thought you were going to be silent for the entire rest of the day."

Her half smile was quickly gone though, when she saw how somber my eyes looked.

"Melissa, I have a girlfriend." I whispered so her parents wouldn't hear. Their bedroom was right off of the living room, and the last thing I needed was for them to think their daughter was a lesbian. Even if she was.

"What's her name?"

"Spencer. And I have to tell you the truth. I love her. And I don't like you like that anymore. Which is why I think I need to cut this trip short."

Her hand slipped from mine, and I was okay with that. I was certain she would be okay.

"Ashley, you don't have to go. My parents love having you around. And I still haven't shown you Uncle Ben yet." She smiled again, still hopeful.

"Come on, we both know why I planned this trip in the first place. I'm just sorry I led you on as long as I did. And why aren't you mad at me?"

The playful look she gave me caused my insides to swirl around like an ICEE machine.

"Ashley, I'm not mad. I knew you'd find someone in L.A. to take care of you while I was away, but you don't have to do that anymore."

Why was she doing this to me? Why was she making me feel like a complete jackass? Spencer doesn't make me feel like a jackass.

"What are you talking about?"

Her fingers were fidgety. She stood up, suddenly, and skipped to the kitchen table, clutching the ends of the blanket at the top of her chest. It took her five minutes of rummaging to find what she wanted to show me.

"Here."

It was a pamphlet. A really shiny one. There was a picture covering two of the three sides when I opened it. I saw a lot of fancy buildings and really fake looking people smiling with dorky backpacks hiked up on their overly modest shirts. There was greenery everywhere. This had to be photo-shopped. People couldn't really look like that on their own, could they?

"What the fuck is this?"

She sat back down, her feet positioned under her, one of her arms draped over the back of the couch, facing me. "It's my new school. And here's the best part. It's in L.A."

My head shot up and I stared her down. My own eyes laser beamed into hers. "Melissa, what part of 'I'm in love with another girl' don't you understand? I wouldn't love you even if you still lived in the next room! I love Spencer."

I stopped trying to be respectful of her parents. Maybe they needed to know she was into girls. Maybe they could her help her understand how to know when wasn't into her anymore.

She was really quiet now. And I was thankful. The only thing I wanted to do was board a plane that could take me straight to Spencer's room. I wanted to wrap her up with my arms and legs, pull her so tight that we might melt into each other.

"You can't even try? To love me?"

"No. Sorry."

"You used to."

"Yeah, used to. Those being the words you should remember. I don't anymore. You and me are in the past tense."

"We don't have to be."

Was this chick some crazy psycho or something? I wasn't ever going to love her.

"It's time for me to leave."

I pulled out my cell phone, praying there was a flight leaving today. My finger shook as I tried to press the correct numbers. Stupid fucking nerves. They ruined quick escapes from crazy psycho bitches who thought they were more worth my time than Spencer. Didn't they see how much I loved her? It was so exhausting trying to make everyone see. Did they need glasses or something?

But I couldn't finish dialing because Melissa pressed her hand down on mine, making the numbers go all wrong. God, couldn't she take a hint?

"I don't think that's a very good idea. I mean, you wouldn't want to disappoint my parents, would you?"

"I don't give a shit about upsetting your parents! Now leave me alone!"

Fine. If she didn't want me to call, I'd pack all my things, stand on the street and hail a taxi. I was willing to do anything to get to my love. Who was probably still in a dreamy slumber. Lucky gal, my girlfriend was.

"Is everything alright out here?"

I rolled my eyes. That was just great. All I needed was Melissa's mom to get in the middle of this.

"Uh, well, I just need to go home now. Like right now."

She looked puzzled, then shifted her eyes to Melissa, who looked like she'd gone crazy. Her eyes were wide and her face was frozen with shock, it seemed. Mrs. Douglas looked at me with a wave of understanding and smiled at me, though just barely.

"I'll have Mr. Douglas drive you to the airport. You'll have to excuse Melissa's behavior; it appears as though she hasn't taken her medicine today." She covered her face in her hands, and sighed. "Ashley, you have to know L.A changed her for the worse. The only good that came out of that city was you. And I guess she thought she wouldn't need her medicine when you came. And it's showing. I'm so sorry."

No, Mrs. Douglas, L.A didn't change her, I did. And I wasn't anywhere near close to being good for her. But I couldn't tell her that. It wasn't my place. Instead, I hung my head down and walked to Melissa's bedroom, slinging all of my tanks, shoes, belts, and vests into my bag. I took a moment to peer down at my journal and smiled, opening to the very first page, which bore Spencer's beautiful face in the dead center. She was smiling at some camera in Ohio and I loved the picture because it showed her innocence. I loved how I could be the strong, knowing one in the relationship. I liked that I was her first and her last. And I loved how even through a picture, her eyes could set all the wacky messed up crazy things back into some sort of tolerable balance.

On the way to the airport, Mr. Douglas explained everything from Melissa's obsession with returning to L.A for the rest of high school, to her breakdowns when they told her no every time she asked. It all made better sense, but I was still reeling from sensory overload. She had never acted that way in L.A with me. Nevertheless, I shook my head and thanked Mr. Douglas for the ride and walked into the airport. I was so ready to see Spencer and so over visiting old flames. I shouldn't have come, and I regretted that Spencer and I didn't spend the long weekend together. I'd be sure to make it up to her when I got back. She'd be so smothered in Ashley she would forget I was ever gone.

xxxx

xxxx

My palms were so sweaty with anticipation I had trouble gripping the handle that would let me out of the cab. I squealed when I saw my Porsche sitting in the garage and grabbed my things from the trunk. I paid the driver, shooed him out of my driveway, and stumbled into my house, letting my bags slide into the middle of foyer. I went to looking for my keys, and tried my best not to let my mom know I was home. I found them on the counter, waiting with a note.

Ashley,

Went to NAPA Valley with Charles. Be back early Tuesday morning. I put your keys on the counter (you left them in the ignition). Hope Melissa is doing well.

Mom

p.s. I love you!

Any mom that had to write 'I love you' in the p.s part of a letter was seriously lacking the whole love your child no matter what instinct. I rolled my eyes, grabbed the keys, and was instantly in a better mood upon learning the super bitch wasn't in town. Maybe Spencer would convince her mom to let her stay the night here. With me. And a lot of popcorn and Audrey Hepburn.

I smiled at the thought of sharing my extensive movie library with my crazy film geek of a girlfriend. Out of all the things we'd done together, watching old movies hadn't been one of them. And I decided that I needed to show her that I cared about her dreams and interests as much as I did my own.

I started pressing the familiar keys on my phone, already comforted by the screen displaying her number. God, even her digits could turn me on. I had it bad.

When she didn't answer, my heart plummeted to the ground. I was so looking forward to hearing her voice, whispering in her ear that I loved her, letting her 'I love you, too' sink into my skin, dry up all the clammy nervousness I had from the long day. But she didn't answer.

I grabbed my satchel. Maybe she was just really busy studying. Or trying to fend off Paula. Those were her two favorite excuses for when she didn't answer the phone, which wasn't often. And if either of those were the case, I knew she'd be home in her bedroom. And as long as I threw small pebbles and didn't break any of Paula's precious windows, I'd be able to get her attention. And as soon as I saw those eyes, I knew everything would be okay. I just had to get to them somehow.

xxxx

xxxx

I was a firm believer that pain had certain levels. The lowest level was physical pain. Stubbing your toe, getting shot, getting kicked in the balls, that sort of thing. Next came giving up people you cared about for your own betterment (selfish, but necessary). Then, came unrequited love (no need to explain that one). The next to the worst pain was giving up your soul mate, like knowingly letting them go, whatever the reason. And the worst thing that could possibly happen, was seeing it leave you. Losing someone you loved without having the choice. That was what was happening right now.

"Ashley, you just don't understand." Spencer looked up at me, with eyes that used to make everything better. But they weren't mine anymore. And so now they just made things worse. They made me re-see everything that used to be mine, every time she looked at me.

"Spencer, you were holding his hand! He kissed you and you didn't even stop it! How much more fucking obvious can you be?"

She didn't have an answer for that. And for once, she didn't look into my eyes. At least there was that. At least I was being shown some sort of mercy.

"You know what? I'm tired, really fucking tired. So I'm going home. You can give me all my shit back at school tomorrow. And I mean all of it."

And there they were again. It was like watching a biography of Ashley and Spencer. Her eyes played back our first kiss, our first real date, our first movie holding hands, her first time at a sushi bar, my first time eating a meal with a family that didn't appear to be dysfunctional, our little moments behind the lockers at school, us watching Glen fail miserably at his chemistry homework. Everything. God, I couldn't take it anymore. Why couldn't she just stop looking at me?

"Don't! Ash, please wait! I had to make my mom think I wasn't-"

"Wasn't what? Gay? That's who you are, Spencer, that's what we are."

Her shoulders drooped, she looked out of energy, she looked like she didn't want to fight for me.

"You know she can't find out, at least not now."

I nodded and let the tears drop onto the concrete. "There's a fine line between keeping us a secret and cheating on your girlfriend. I'm just sorry you can't tell the difference."

"It's more complicated than that, Ash."

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

Was she being serious?

"Don't call me 'Ash.' You lost that privilege the second he rammed his tongue down your throat."

My tone was seething, and I could tell I cut deep, because her tears were flowing more than mine.

"Is everything alright out here?" I sighed. Paula always had perfect timing. "Spencer, where's Patrick?"

"He went home, mom. Can you just give us a minute?"

There must really be a God because as soon as Paula heard Spencer's clipped question, she tiptoed back inside with a surrendering pose.

Spencer's hands moved toward me, reaching for me, but I stepped away. She'd just have to get used to me being untouchable. That's what happened to cheaters. Love would always be just out of their reach.

"You know, Spencer, I don't know what's worse. The fact that you didn't say 'I'm sorry' or the fact that I would have at least thought about forgiving you if you had."

But before she could look at me with those eyes again, I turned around, tuned out her pleas, and did my best not to look back, although I did once and seeing her collapsed on the sidewalk broke my heart into more tiny pieces. But I couldn't, wouldn't let her use me like that. I couldn't risk being heartbroken again, especially not with someone who didn't even realize that what she did called for an apology.

I wished I was back in Nottingham, working things out with Melissa. I wished Melissa's parents made me stay, talk with Melissa once she was back on her meds. I wished I had better common sense. If all of those things had come true, I'd still be in Nottingham awaiting Spencer's daily phone call, which only lasted five minutes due to grossly over-priced overseas calling rates. I'd still be dumbly in love with her, and I'd see her tomorrow, when she came to my house like we had planned for a homecoming dinner. And most importantly, I wouldn't have to know about her and Patrick. And I'd rather not know and be happy with Spencer than see it and be miserable without her.

I supposed that made me a dumbass. But I used to not care, as long as I was Spencer's dumbass. But I was alone now. And that made being a dumbass pathetic. And infuriating.

I wanted to call Chelsea. I wanted my best friend to tell me everything was going to be okay. And I wanted someone to care about me.

Because obviously Spencer didn't.

I breathed a sigh of relief when she answered the phone. "Thank God. I need you to come over to my house... yes right now... yes it's important... yes I'm crying... dammit, just get there already... okay, and Chels?... thank you."

xxxx

xxxx

Only angels in heaven could have words for how I felt when I saw that afro waiting in my driveway. I pulled into the garage, closed the car door with my butt, and looked over to my best friend, who was already making her way toward me. When I finally made physical contact with her, when her arms were around me and her poofy hair was tickling my neck, I let everything out. I must have held on to her for ten minutes before we finally made it inside.

Her little body was flitting all over the kitchen gathering the necessary ingredients for midnight pizza. God, I loved that I had a best friend, that she didn't hate me for spending every waking moment with Spencer, that she still knew exactly what I needed when something went horribly wrong.

"Ash? Where's the Nutella? We can't have midnight pizza without the Nutella."

I made my way to the pantry and pulled from the very top shelf the unopened jar. She sighed, gave me a smile and went to work kneading out the dough.

"So are we gonna talk about whatever has you so upset? Or are we watching sketchy Japanese horror films?"

I gave her a smirk and opened up a fresh bottle of Kahlua. "Neither. We're going to sit in the hottub with our midnight pizza and some liquor. It's been a rough night."

Her eyes lit up when I said liquor, but then softened a bit as she concentrated on making a perfect circle with the dough. "Well, whatever makes you feel better. Although I'm surprised you didn't call Spencer. I mean, I know I'll always be your best friend, but you two have grown so close over the past couple of months and- oh god. Ash, tell me that what I think happened didn't happen. Tell me you didn't break up with her. Tell me she didn't break up with you. Because, I swear if that bi-"

"Chelsea, just shut it, okay? I found her with a guy and now we're over. End of story. Now finish making that pizza. I'm going to change and head out for the hottub. I need a few minutes alone anyways."

She slid the dough in the oven and started emptying various assortments of chocolate candy into little bowls. "Are you sure?"

I gave her what I hoped to be at least something resembling a smile and started for the staircase. "Yep. I'll leave you a suit on my bed."

My few minutes alone turned out to be a bad idea, though. Within the last five minutes I had somehow reached the conclusion that I hated Spencer Carlin. I hated her for ruining my carefree life. I hated her for breaking my heart. I hated her for tripping over my shoes. I hated her.

And I didn't know how I could go from loving her more than my precious car to hating her more than the roach that I was certain still resided in my bathroom. Maybe I was still in shock.

"Here ya go." Chelsea popped a plate in my face and I took it eagerly. "Hold mine while I get in."

I complied, giggled as I watched her tiny frame find a comfortable spot and handed her plate back to her. "Alright, now I know you hate it when I put all the good stuff on there at one time because of all the calories, but you just seem like you need it tonight."

She smiled at me and I looked down to my pizza. Nutella sauce with crushed Butterfingers, Heath Bars, and Snickers topped with blue mini M&Ms. "Aww, you even gave me my favorite color! Thanks, Chels."

What had I done right to get the most caring best friend on the entire planet?

"No problem. And I know you gave me the whole 'end of story' thing, but what happened?"

I stuffed my mouth with a bite of my pizza and eyed the shot glasses sitting next to the Kahlua.

"Come on. You'll feel better if you just say what happened, rant about her, and then cry some more."

I looked at her and swallowed, tempted to take another bite.

"Promise."

I sighed. "Alright. But Chels? I'm telling you right now, I'll never be able to justify what she did, so don't even try to convince me otherwise."

She poured out two shots and handed one to me. "I'll drink to that."

And for the first time all night I laughed like I meant it. And I felt like I lived for someone other than Spencer Carlin.