Spencer started pretending to like boys in our junior year of high school. I say pretend because I know that girl better than anyone, and I can tell when she's playing make believe.
Her Mom lately has been harping on her to get a job, join a club or get a boyfriend, stop spending so much time slumming it around the apartment ground with me, drinking cokes, chasing each other and bothering the citizens of the complex, what we've done for going on ten years. We're just a little more mature about it now.
We're sunbathing on the long patch of grass in front of the main gate when Paula comes by with groceries, which I hustle to help her with. Recently I've begun to feel like Paula's looking strangely at me, usually when Spencer wraps her arms around my waist and whispers something intimately in my ear, or sets her head in my lap while she watches TV.
I know Spencer doesn't see this, because why would she expect it? It's how we've been acting around each other for a decade. But I think Paula senses something.
"Thank you, Ashley. You're a lifesaver." Paula says after I relieve her of the weight of several grocery bags.
I tap Spencer with my foot. "Up, lazy Button. Grab the bag with the canned food."
Spencer hops up and takes the lightest bag away from me, and I walk past her, kicking her in the butt. She squeals and chases me up the steps, while Paula yells after us to slow down and quiet down, and this time she catches me and passes me, blowing a raspberry in my face.
"Very mature, Carlin." I call after her, entering her apartment just moments later and setting the bag on the counter.
Spencer tosses me a bag of bread which I throw in the cabinet, then is in mid-toss of a bag of bagels when Paula enters. "Food throwing free zone, please, girls." She sounds exasperated.
"Got it, Mom." Spencer gives me a wink, and open the packet, taking out a bagel and gesturing for my to follow into the living room.
I walk by her and grab a part of the bagel, taking a bite. "Come on, help your Mom with the groceries. Such an inconsiderate child."
She gasps out loud that I would call her out on such a thing, but I can see the smile in her eyes. I pull off a piece of bagel and shove it in her mouth playfully, making her laugh with her mouth full.
Paula clears her throat. "Don't you girls have homework?"
"Finished." Spencer's voice is monotone, bored.
"Books to read? Shows to watch?"
"Ohh! The horror marathon is on tonight! I almost forgot!" Spencer gabs both of my hands in excitement, hopping up and down.
"Oh! Sweetness!" I raise an eyebrow demurely. "Spencey, would you like to come over to my house and share my bed for hours of terrible gore, unnecessary nudity, and bad acting?"
Spencer immediately has a coy smile on her lips and takes a small bite of her bagel. "Are we still talking about horror movies?"
Blush spreads across my cheeks like wildfire in an instant, not believing Spencer would crack that joke - especially in front of her Mom.
"Maybe Spencer should just stay home tonight." I turn around to see Paula with a stony expression on her face, mixed with something else I can't quite read.
"Mom, that's lame - "
"It's a school night." Paula shoves a can of pickles into the fridge a little too roughly, and suddenly, I feel uncomfortable for the first time in forever, here in the Carlin kitchen.
Spencer narrows her eyes, beginning to realize what was going on. "It was a joke, Mom. I was kidding."
"Just the same, Spencer..." Paula trails off, realizing I'm in the room, and have been, this whole time. I shift nervously while Spencer and Paula stare each other down, a silent fight I know is because of me.
"I, uh, I think I hear my Mom calling." I excuse myself and duck out of the kitchen, even though Spencer calls after me, extremely embarassed at the turn of events.
I stop outside the door, flattening myself against the wall and closing my eyes.
"You made her leave, Mom. She was totally freaked out!"
"She was not."
Their voices carry through the walls, and I hate to admit I strained to hear every word.
"Did you even see her face? Why did you have to act like that?"
I hear Paula suck in a lungful of air. "Spencer, why don't you ever bring any boys home?"
"Oh. My. God." Spencer uses her best outraged voice, stalling for time. "This is so not a conversation that I'm having right now."
I feel like I'm eavesdropping, but I can't tear myself away.
"What am I supposed to think, Spencer? You spend every waking minute with that girl - "
"Ashley."
"Ashley. I know, Spencer. With Ashley...what am I supposed to think? When you hold her hand and kiss her?"
"Maybe you should think that - that I'm her best friend! What I've been for practically my whole life!"
"Don't raise your voice to me. I know what she is." Paula's voice isn't condemning, but there's an edge to it that stings my heart. My sexuality isn't something I've discussed with Paula even one time, face to face. I know her beliefs but I know she accepts me, atleast at face value. That, for me, was always enough.
"What she is?" Spencer cries, affronted on my behalf. I send her a million grateful words in my own head, trying not to be too hurt by Paula's words. "It's Ashley, Mom. You love Ashley."
"Of course I love her, Spencer. I know we both love her." I'm not sure how to take this, but there's almost an accusation in Paula's voice. My heart wrings for Spencer, because now I know what she was afraid of all along.
"Mom..."
"And Spencer, honey. I need you to tell me - "
"There's nothing to tell." Spencer sounds grim, unlike herself.
"Can you swear that to me, Spencer? On - "
"On what, the Bible?" Spencer snorts. "What do you want me to swear? Huh?"
I hear Paula smalling cans against the sink, and I can imagine her busying herself, not wanting to look at Spencer straight in the eye. I think she knows. I bite down on my lip, hard. She just doesn't want to say it.
"Tell me what I'm afraid of isn't true." Her voice is faraway, and I know her back is to Spencer. I hang my head. I've never felt more ashamed to be myself than I was at that second.
"What you're afraid of. Okay." Spencer sounds completely let down and disappointed, but ready to give in. I know that voice, it's one I use with Spencer far too often.
Spencer's tone is robotic when she speaks. "No, Mom. It's not what you think with Ashley."
When she speaks next, even through the wall I can hear that the fight has left her, but she sounds bolder than she has in recent memory. "I don't think about her all the damn time. I don't want to...kiss her. And I certainly - " Spencer's voice breaks at this. "I certainly am not in love with her."
Paula slams a cupboard and it's silent for a moment.
"But I am..." Spencer says, and I hear her shuffling around, "I am going over to my best friend's tonight, and will...I will be back in the morning."
I know that's my cue to exit, but Spencer is quicker than I am. She leaves her house in a huff, hair flying behind her and runs straight into me.
Her eyes are wide, not expecting me at all. She glances back, then wraps her hand around mine and pulls me away from the door. We walk briskly back to my place, trying to figure out what needs to be said.
"You heard all that?"
I nod mutely.
"She wasn't...you know, it really wasn't what it sounded like."
"I know."
"I mean, of course she's gonna think..."
"I get it."
"Those things she said, she didn't really - "
"She didn't mean those things she said, it's not what it sounded like, and there's nothing going on between us." I stick my hands in my pockets, feeling very exposed. "At all. Right?"
She nods her head solemnly, and we know it's a silent agreement not to talk about how bad the things that have been said hurt me, or her. We can just let it be, and maybe that will be enough.
Spencer doesn't seem that into the movies that night, but it's a long marathon.
By the end, we're lying down on our sides, nestled into each other body with our limbs tangled together. This is how we always find ourselves, it's just in our nature.
We murmur critiques on the movie into each other's ears - "This is lame." "That blood is so fake." "She's not even pretty."
Soon, our breathing is in rhythm with each other, and we fall asleep.
One week after that night, Spencer met Aiden Dennison.
"Aiden? Aiden who? Can you hook me up with him?"
"No. That guy, uh...No. I can't hook you up with him." I'm rattled. The sound of the barkeep setting glasses down on the table snaps me back to reality, and I immediately down my shot as well as Hailey's.
"Whoa, hey. You drank my - whatever. Just get tattered, you're more fun, anyways."
The drinks mix with combative effects in my stomach just as Hailey lights up a cigarette. "No smoking." I snatch it from her and hold it in my hands as I give in to my sense of flight instinct and head to the front door of the bar, needing fresh air and to be away from all people.
I have to pass by Aiden on my way out, surrounded with his loud, drunk frat buddies, a circle of which he is the center of. I'm certain he won't notice me, and I'm halfway out the door, ignoring coos and calls of every buzzed guy in the line, when I hear him call out.
"Hey...Ashley!"
There is no way I am speaking to Aiden Dennison at all tonight, and just the sound of his voice, which I'd almost been able to forget, is enough to make my skin crawl.
I let the door close behind me and take in a lungful of fresh air. I get a few seconds of solace in the night before the door bursts open and Aiden is giving me the fish eye.
"Hey, where'd you go?" He asks smarmily, sidling up next to me. "It really is you. Wow!"
"I am not doing this." I mutter, turning on my heel. I feel Aiden's hand on my shoulder and spin around, disgust in my voice. "Don't touch me."
"He's cute."
"Spencer, he's on the basketball team. He's slept with, like, half he cheerleaders at this school." I steal a fry off of her plate, squinting in the sun across the quad at Aiden Dennison, who had just been transferred into her english class.
"Still cute." She steals the fry back and nibbles at it. I realize we're sailing uncharted territory here. I don't quite know what to say to her.
"Okay...what does that have to do with anything?" I swipe another fry and point it at a random girl. "She's cute."
She ignores me. "I'm gonna go say hi."
"Whoa. What? Spencer, that's Aiden Dennison. He's friends with Madison. What would possess you to want to talk to him?"
She just shrugs, tearing her gaze away from Mr. Perfect long enough to smile at me. "It's okay to be curious, right?"
I try to hide my pout. "He was in my algebra class last year. He asked me how to spell 'forty'."
"Wow, did he really?"
I nod, hoping I've dissuaded her.
"So he's like, endearingly stupid, then?"
I groan out loud. "No, Spencer. I am endearingly stupid. The Cookie Monster is endearingly stupid. That jockstrap's an idiot."
Spencer just looks away and fluffs her hair. "How do I look?"
"If I tell you you look terrible, will you still go over there?"
"Yes."
"You look lovely." I tell her honestly, and she beams at me and leans over to wipe a bit of french fry crumb off my lip.
"I'll be right back." She says, softly, and I already feel like I'm losing a little of her as she walks away.
"Spencey." I call after her, before she gets too far away. She turns around. "What am I thinking?"
She looks at her shoes for a single second, and I know she recognizes the undercurrent of sadness in my voice. I can hear it in hers, too. "I know." She takes a step backward. "I'm sorry."
So was I. They had a date for that Friday night. I went home and screamed into my pillow.
