"What do you think about the Spice Girls?"
Ashley shrugged carelessly. "Not a lot."
"Why not?"
"I don't know," she replied, keeping her eyes on the man at the bottom of the street —Mr. Foster— who was carrying in groceries from his weekly shop. It was a miracle he was actually seen. Ashley just hoped he could see the dirty look she was giving him from such a distance.
Spencer reached around and pulled Ashley's head around to face hers. "Stop staring."
"He flipped me off! He at least deserves some sort of a glare."
"He was scratching his face."
Her eyes rolled. "That's what he wants you to think, Spencer. I thought you hated him, anyway. You said he makes you want to gauge your eyes out."
"That was you." She rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Ash. It's Sunday. Let's ignore him and his weird behaviour and have fun."
"We are having fun," Ashley stated. She turned her body to look at her friend without straining her neck. "Right?"
Spencer nodded slowly. "Right, because my idea of fun is seeing you throw your death glares across the street."
"Want to go ice-skating?"
"You're asking me if I want multiple bruises and a broken wrist? Hmm, let's think."
"Or you could make a suggestion..."
The blonde thought about it for a moment. "Wanna see if Emily wants to hang out?"
She frowned in confusion. "The girl three blocks away who eats her hair?"
"No, the one who walks her cats on a leash."
"Gee, Spencer. What a wonderful idea."
She was offended with her sarcasm. "What? She's nice!"
"She walks her cats on a leash," Ashley repeated slowly, eyebrows raised.
"You need to stop being so judgemental. People are different, get used to it."
"And you need to pick better friends."
Spencer scoffed. "Clearly."
Ashley smiled and looked to the other end of the street, spotting someone approaching. "Jerk alert."
Ramona Castro rolled her eyes whilst whishing she'd taken another route to her friend's house. "Pretty big gutter for you rats to be in, isn't it?"
Spencer gave Ashley an amused look before she turned to Ramona. "Are you lost, Sasquatch?"
"You wish. For your information, I have a birthday party to attend. Something you losers wouldn't know anything about."
"What, as the clown?" Spencer asked sarcastically.
Ashley nudged her arm. "Come on, Spencer, don't insult her looks. She's the donkey."
Spencer guffawed immaturely, portraying her twelve year-old innocence, before she looked to the raven-haired girl. "Too bad you're not the piñata. Maybe then I'd crash the party."
Ramona's eyes narrowed in their direction. "Stay away from me, freaks."
"Stay off our turf," Ashley challenged.
As Ramona hurried away, Spencer lay back on the grass and regretted her sudden backbone. "Ugh, she's going to tell the other girls to get us tomorrow."
"'Get us'? Whatever. Who cares? We can take them."
"I care."
The brunette followed suit and lay down next to her. "Judging by the size of your mouth, I've taught you everything I know. You'll be more than a match for those losers."
"I can always count on you to make me feel better."
Ashley smiled and turned on her side, looking at her. She looked at her friend's tanned hand resting on her stomach and moved hers across until they were touching, slowly but continuously moving her fingers across and underneath Spencer's.
Spencer had her eyes closed to shield them from the harsh rays of the sun. "Did Mr. Foster really flip you off?"
"I couldn't make this stuff up!"
"I asked my mom why he always has newspaper up at his windows and she said he's just private. Like that's any excuse."
Ashley rolled her eyes, still moving her fingers across the blonde's. "What did you say?"
"I said maybe he should get curtains like any normal person would."
She smiled. "Let me guess, and then she told you to leave him alone and stop being nosy again?"
Spencer nodded. "Your mom said that, too?"
"Yeah. I guess they're tired of us asking. It's been forever."
"Glen's on our side. I heard him talking to his friend the other day; he said he'll kill Mr. Foster if he ever bothers us. Cute, huh?"
Ashley nodded her agreement. "I always appreciate an offer of violence."
"What are you scared of, Ash?"
"Scarring my knuckles?"
Spencer rolled her eyes. Ashley always avoided those kinds of questions. "No, I mean seriously."
She held her hand tighter. "Really. My grandma says I have skin like hers. Any fights and they'll scar me for life."
"Forget fighting. In the whole world, what scares you the most that if you even just think about it, you get freaked out?"
The brunette thought about it and shrugged evasively. "Nothing."
"Liar."
"My answer is always going to be the same. What's the point of being scared of something? It doesn't change anything."
"Nobody thinks like that."
"Well, maybe I'm an exception."
Spencer sighed softly and sat up, pulling her hand away. "Whatever."
"I don't want this to turn into a fight. I just... I don't know how to answer you any other way," the brunette said, looking up to Spencer.
"You're not scared of anything, remember? A fight is like pie to you."
Ashley sat up and brushed the blades of grass off her legs. "You're acting like I've done something wrong."
"I'm sorry," she admitted begrudgingly after seeing the look on her face. "I just want you to trust me."
"I do," Ashley insisted. "I'd let you point a loaded gun to my heart, you know that."
"So, you're scared of being shot?"
"I'd prefer it not to happen," she clarified, as if it wasn't already obvious. After all, what kind of self-respecting person would wish otherwise?
"Would you let me point a gun to your head, too?"
Ashley shook her head. "A bullet to the head is nothing."
Spencer smiled. "Kind of like the way an eighteen-wheeler crashes into a Toyota? Minimal damage."
"No, seriously. With a fatal bullet to the head, most don't even register anything. You're just dead. But if you're shot in the heart, it takes longer for you to become worm-food. You choke and eventually drown in your own blood."
"Gross."
"You see how much I trust you with now?" she asked dramatically.
"Yes," Spencer replied with a firm nod of her head. She threw her arms around Ashley's neck and pulled her close. "I'm sorry I doubted you."
###
Ashley leaned against the doorframe and smiled to Mr. Carlin who mirrored it on his way past her to the car.
"Morning, Ashley," he said, turning around and walking backwards so he could see her face. "Everything good?"
"Always."
He flashed a grin. "Glad to hear it."
She waved lethargically. "Have a good day with your crazies, slash repeat offenders."
"You have a good day at school. Think of your brain as a sponge waiting to absorb knowledge," he said, turning back around to make his way to the car. "It'll take you far!"
"I will do that," she replied sarcastically before moving around to see what was taking Spencer so long. If she thought there was any chance of a lie-in, however short, she would have taken it instead of standing in the cold with a headache.
A banana was promptly shoved in front of her face.
She frowned and slowly reached up to take it. "What is this?"
Spencer adjusted her bag and, out of habit, checked her teeth in the mirror before she left the house. "It's a banana."
"I see that. Why am I holding it?"
"Because I'm in a good mood and you're no doubt hungover. The potassium will help."
Ashley peered at the blonde's straight face as they walked. "You're in a good mood?"
"I am."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
Ashley decided not to challenge her further and accepted the fruit which would hopefully make her feel better. Though, she had to admit, somehow she wasn't as hungover as usual.
"Okay," the brunette said quietly.
Spencer inhaled deeply. "You don't look your usual shade of green after a party. Didn't you have fun?"
"I don't know, I must have started to sober up before I fell asleep, or something. I guess I should apologise to the neighbours if I was loud getting home..."
She nodded, half listening. "So, did you want to tell me something?" she asked, feeling her heart beat faster in anticipation of a miracle.
Ashley's eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Oh," she said after a moment, holding the fruit up. "Thank you."
It was nice Spencer wasn't treating her how she knew she deserved to be treated. They hadn't spoken to each other since Halloween and that night didn't exactly end well. It had been a long week.
As soon as she'd seen her, Spencer knew there was little hope of Ashley remembering anything about the night before. It was in her eyes. Ashley could never keep anything hidden from her there.
She shrugged it off and they walked the rest of the way in silence, even when they spotted Mr. Foster watching them walk past his house. Ashley, surprisingly, didn't say a word. She just sent him the most baleful glare she could muster, daring him to approach, daring him to talk to Spencer.
###
The noise of the cafeteria was causing Spencer to become unfocused when the lunch lady asked what she wanted on her tray. "Um..."
"She'll have fries," Emily Cooper stated, suddenly appearing next to her. "We can share, right?"
"Or, you could get your own? I could wait with you if you wan-"
"No, thanks," she cut her off. "Can't stay long."
Emily ushered them across the room to an empty table and pulled her chair over to sit next to the blonde. She picked up a handful of fries and began eating them one at a time. "Who are you having lunch with?"
"You?" she replied, watching Emily eat her lunch.
"I just told you I can't stay, I'm sorry. Where's Ashley or that new girl, Lydia? Do you even see her anymore?"
Spencer shrugged and crossed her legs, resting her chin on her hand. "Ashley's around, I think. And not really, she made other friends."
"Well, that's not vague," she answered teasingly, seeing her forced smile a second later. "Can I ask you something about her? Ashley, I mean."
"Depends..."
"Is she using anything? She's always angry lately, especially to me. And I know I haven't done anything wrong."
She frowned. "God, Em. Don't even suggest something like that."
Emily took a small handful of fries. "Fine, consider the subject dropped."
"Good," Spencer said after taking an angry sip of her water.
Ashley reluctantly looked around the cafeteria in search of somewhere to sit where she wouldn't have to breathe through her mouth due to their lack of personal hygiene, or be forced to pretend to listen to each mindless sentence that left their lips. Some of them were total over sharers and she didn't have the energy for either.
She spotted Spencer sitting next to Emily and sighed. Her only other option was the pot-head table and she hadn't sat by Spencer in three days. People had probably already noticed that no words were exchanged the last time they'd been forced to keep up the pretence.
Ashley soon found herself sitting down at their table and ignored the look of surprise on the blonde's face. "What's up?" she asked casually, avoiding looking at Emily.
Spencer sat up straighter in her seat. "Hey."
Spotting the raised-eyebrow gesture from Spencer —an indication that good manners should be expressed, Ashley sighed and leaned back in her seat. "Hey," she said flatly, turning her attention to Emily who was fast making her way through Spencer's fries.
"Hi," she replied in the same tone.
"Don't let me interrupt what I'm sure was a fascinating conversation," Ashley said as she salted her fries and began picking at them.
"That's a heart-attack waiting to happen, you know," Emily chimed in, referring to her lunch.
"Says the girl inhaling someone else's?"
"We're sharing, there's a difference."
Ashley glanced at Spencer who, so far, hadn't eaten anything and then back at the redhead. "Is that what that's called?"
Emily frowned and brushed her hands clean, leaving Spencer with almost a quarter of her lunch. "What is your problem?"
She shrugged, taking her time to chew. "Don't have one."
"I think you do."
Spencer sighed. "Guys, really, do you have to do this now?"
"It's obvious you don't like me," Emily continued, "I'd just like to know what kind of party favours you're on to make you act this way, or what I've done to annoy you so much."
The brunette made no attempt to hide an amused smile. "Are you serious?"
"I'm very serious. I want you to say it."
"Well, I don't know what to say to you, other than the truth..."
Emily crossed her arms. "I'm listening."
"You're right, I'm on Coke."
Across the table, Spencer rolled her eyes.
"I knew it," Emily replied, looking disgusted with her. "How often?"
"Two, maybe three times a week? Sometimes more. Whenever I can get my hands on it, I guess."
The redhead looked at her phone for the time and began to stand up from her seat, looking down on her. "You disgust me. If you think I'm letting you spend any more time with Spencer, you can think again."
Ashley swallowed her food and looked up to Emily. "Are you challenging me to duel, or something?"
"I have somewhere to be. Make the most of the next thirty minutes because I assure you it's the last time you bring those habits around her."
"Does Spencer get a say in any of this?" she asked, looking to the blonde.
It was about time, Spencer thought. "Emily, Ashley's not -"
"Fit to be around you. Or any of us, for that matter," Emily butted in. "And I'm going to be late, otherwise I'd get rid of you," she stated, looking down to Ashley with cold eyes. "See you after school, Spence."
"Bye," Spencer replied flatly.
Watching her leave the cafeteria, Ashley turned back around with a smile and picked up another fry. "As awkward as this is right now, I'm so glad I sat here," she said with a chuckle.
Spencer looked to the bottle of Coca Cola in front of Ashley's tray and looked away to smile.
