Disclaimer: South of Nowhere and the characters affiliated with it belong to Tom Lynch and The N. I own nothing but my own plot twists.

A/N: A big thinks to everyone who has reviewed and added this story to their favorites list! My heart is all fuzzy and stuff :3

Reviews are always loved and appreciated ;)

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Chapter 10: Realize

"If you just realized what I just realized

Then we'd be perfect for each other

And we'd never find another"

Colby Caillat

-

My alarm went off and I groaned as I clumsily fumbled around for it with my hand- I wasn't quite ready to open my eyes. I turned on my side and as I put a hand out, I hit something soft and warm.

Ashley, I remembered with a smile. I opened my eyes to see her asleep on her side, breathing evenly. Her curly hair had fallen slightly in her face and I wanted to brush it away but feared waking her. A glance at my clock told me I needed to get up. I stood up and stretched, biting back a laugh as Ashley immediately rolled over and occupied my spot.

She shifted and blinked slowly. "Madison?" she called out groggily.

"Ha ha, very funny." I hit her with a pillow as she smiled. "Do you often wake up next to her?" I questioned.

"Only in my nightmares." She stretched and her shirt rose slightly. I cursed myself for even noticing and quickly went into the bathroom to get ready.

"Where are the towels?" Ashley asked as she came into the bathroom. I looked up from brushing my teeth and almost swallowed my toothpaste. She was just in her underwear and bra. I'm sure my slightly opened mouth made me look very cool, further enhanced by my inability to speak.

All I could say in my defense was that she did look good. Her body was tone without being gross, yet still able to look soft and feminine.

Although now that I think about it, I don't think that helped my case very much.

"Uh, they're underneath the sink," I finally managed out, gesturing my free hand to the cabinet. I pretended to cough, hoping to convince her to believe that I was choking on toothpaste, and that's why I couldn't form any coherent words. I doubted it worked, but I didn't want to dwell on it too much.

Ashley and I had changed in front of each other lots of times, plus with Ashley being as confident as she was, this was a usual thing for her. Ashley could easily be described as hot, I could admit that- hell, anyone with eyes could. But that didn't give my heart the right to speed up, or my hands permission to get clammy, or my mouth to go dry and stop working.

Thankfully I had my toothbrush, so I could play it off. And though my heart felt like it was through my chest, I highly doubted she heard it. I breathed a sigh of relief as I heard the shower turn on. Finally some time to compose myself.

I went to my parent's room to shower and headed back to my room to finish getting ready. My room smelled like Ashley as I walked in. Great, this will definitely help me stop thinking about her, I thought sarcastically. Thinking about the brunette made me wonder if she thought about me this much.

She told me I was pretty, even went as far to say hot, but was that it? I mean how exactly do you ask your best friend what she thinks of you, totally disregarding that she's gay. Yeah, that wouldn't be weird. 'Hey Ash, you know how you said I was hot? Well, if I were gay would you date me?'

"Yeah," she answered, stepping out from the bathroom with her hair wrapped in a towel. The rest of her, thankfully, was clothed.

Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit! Did I say that out loud? What the hell is wrong with me? Better yet, what the hell do I do?

"I uh- was kidding," I finished lamely, praying she'd let it go.

"What?" she asked, giving me a weird look.

"I was kidding?" I tried again, sounding unsure.

"What in the hell are you talking about?" she demanded.

"What are you talking about?" I was beyond confused, and apparently so was she.

"You said, 'Hey Ash,' and I said 'yeah?' and then you said you were kidding…" she dropped off and gave me a look letting me know she was concerned for my sanity.

Oh thank God! I didn't say all of it! I audibly sighed causing Ashley to give me another strange look.

"Are you ok? You're acting more weird than usual." She didn't even know, for which I was thankful.

"Yeah, fine, just thinking about Kelly," I quickly lied, knowing talking about the girl would take Ashley's mind off our current conversation.

"Oh, so that's why you moaned her name," Ashley commented in realization, taking her mascara from my hands and ignoring my protest of, "I'm still using it."

"Better than moaning Madison's," I countered with a shrug.

"I dreamt I was strangling her. You'd moan about that too."

I laughed and shook my head. "You're so sadistic."

She again snatched her mascara out of me reach, sticking her tongue out at me. "But you love me anyway," she said as she leaned towards me and smiled.

I purposely paused for a few moments before sighing dramatically. "I suppose."

She gave me a big grin and finally surrendered the mascara back to me and we finished getting ready.

---

I was glad I got to ride with her to school. I definitely missed spending time with her. It was like there was this part of me that I didn't know I was missing until Ashley came into my life and filled it. I looked over at the brunette and smiled.

She turned to face me and smiled back, although she most likely didn't know why I was smiling. "What are you thinking about, Spence?" she asked curiously. I really hoped I never stopped feeling giddy over the nickname.

"Just how glad I am that we're friends."

She looked at me and gave me a breathtaking smile. "Me too," she agreed shyly but with conviction.

My heart swelled with adoration for her and I felt the familiar giddy feeling sweep through me. I say familiar because I felt it pretty much every time I was around Ashley: when she looked at me, when she smiled at me, when she hugged me, when she texted or called me…hell, even when she was just being her cocky self.

And it scared me. This was strange and foreign and completely new to me, but there was a big part of me that relished it, that told me that change was good, that this was good.

Maybe I was reading too much into it. I'd had friends before. My friendship with Ashley was different, but not in a weird way or anything. Maybe I was confusing feelings of comfort and security with something else entirely. People did that all the time, right? Though these days I hardly felt comfortable around her.

Try nervous. Unsettled. Anxious. Speechless. Breathless.

Ashley was an attractive girl, everyone-especially the brunette herself- knew it. Me noticing that didn't mean anything. But the whole deal with Kelly got me thinking. Kelly obviously thought that I was g- um, into her. Something must have made her assume that.

So…was I g- into girls? No. No. There was no way. Nothing against that, I mean I had no problem with Ashley, but that wasn't me…at all.

I'd never even thought about girls in that way, so how could I be? Seeing girls around school didn't get me all excited or anything, and I still thought Aiden was hot.

All my thinking did was leave me feeling more confused. I certainly couldn't talk to my mom about this. Oh God, she'd have me committed to some Nazi boarding school. Maybe that would clear my head, I thought, not entirely joking. Yeah, that'd be great. I can barely go a day without seeing Ashley, let alone go months.

My phone vibrating saved me from further thought.

-You have been thoughtful lately. Everything ok?-

I smiled at her concern.

-yeah, just a lot going on in my head. Kind feeling overwhelmed-

-You wanna talk about it?-

Again I smiled. She was caring.

-No, I'm good, thanks though. Just need to figure it out.-

-…its not about your Darby conspiracy theory, is it?-

I laughed and quickly turned it into a cough as Hitler turned and gave me a hard look from the front of the class.

-lol no its not. But I'm still holding strong to that belief-

-You have to let it go Spence-

-6 years of therapy doesn't qualify you-

I heard her laugh from beside me.

-Really? And how does that make you feel?-

I literally laughed out loud and felt Ashley gently pat my back. It quickly turned to a sharp hit as she tried to alert me to Mrs. Darby's presence.

"Would you like to share what's so funny, Ms. Carlin?" she asked, her mouth turned in a tight frown. I wondered if she even knew how to smile. Probably not.

I put my head down in fake shame, hoping she'd buy it. "Sorry Mrs. Darby, I was just thinking about Ophelia's character in Hamlet and how sad but funny her character's disposition was," I improvised.

What in the hell kind of lie was that? I demanded of myself.

"Smooth," I heard Ashley whisper.

"Would you like to add something, Ms. Davies?"

Ashley didn't even seem panicked. "I'm not real big on class participation," she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Well how do you feel about detention?"

Ashley paused as if actually considering. "Nah," she finally answered, "I'm not real big on that either." I didn't know whether to laugh or hit her.

"Then I suggest you and Ms. Carlin keep focused," she said harshly, then pivoted and stormed back to her desk.

I quickly grabbed my phone. –How's that theory looking now?-

-Coincidence. Besides, we got off the hook-

-Barely- I reminded her.

-You ever get tired of wearing that halo-

-It brings out my baby blues-

-So does the cross on your neck-

-Better than the leash you have around mine-

-Gasp! Spence I'm shocked you think that. Now pay attention-

-You're one to talk, hypocrite-

-;)-

It was amazing that one little text character could crack me up so much, but then again, it was from Ashley, who managed to make any situation funny. She claimed it was a gift. She said that about most things about herself. But conceitedness was just one wonderful part of the Ashley Davies package, and you couldn't help but love every single part.

Ashley headed out early- something about her mom finally ready to tell eight she had a daughter- so I was left to sit with Clay and Chelsea. They were finally official by the way. It wasn't so bad sitting with them.. Clay was way better than Glen any day, and Chelsea and I had gotten closer since she was over at our house so much. Not to say it wasn't partially awkward, though.

Clay was embarrassed to initiate contact with Chelsea, so he'd go to grab her hand and then change his mind and quickly grab a napkin or something random. Chelsea would give an annoyed sigh and I'd bite back a laugh and update Ashley via text on the situation. It was sad that even though I was texting her, I still missed her and wished she wouldn't have left early.

After school I had to, of course, go straight home. Dad was in the living room watching tv, and I made up my mind to talk to him.

"Hey sweetie," he smiled at me and scooted over to make room for me. "How was school?"

"It was fine," I said quickly, wanting to get to my point as soon as possible. He must have noticed my distractedness because he shifted to face me and put on his listening face.

"What's bothering you, Spencer?" he asked knowingly.

"I-" I started, wondering how I was going to be able to convey everything I was feeling. "Have you ever felt like everyone is expecting you to fit into this mold they have laid of for you, but when you go to get in it, you find out you just don't fit in it like you thought you would?"

Wow, that was kind of vague.

He nodded. "Sure honey, everyone has," he assured me gently. "But sometimes, Spence, you have to step away from the mold and allow yourself to shape into something different. You have to find the mold that best fits how you've changed." I smiled as he went along with my analogy.

"I just am so afraid of what people will think if I don't meet their expectations," I confessed quietly, hating that I cared so much.

He put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed it. "You're only sixteen. No one your age should know who they are. This is the time when you find out for yourself. You can't let anyone else decide for you."

I let his wise words sink in for a moment. "I just don't want to be different. I want everyone to accept me," I finished with a shrug, wishing it was as simple as I made it seem.

He nodded in understanding. "Being different isn't wrong. Being different is part of being human. It's what we do with our differences that define us. Spence, you know I'll always love you, no matter what." He kissed my head and headed into the kitchen to start on his dinner.

His last statement made me wonder if he really knew what I was telling him. Whether he did or not, I knew he was sincere in his words, and it again made me realize how lucky I was to have him as my father. I tried to picture having this talk with my mom.

'I don't know what to do, Mom,' I would confess. 'I feel like I am disappointing so many people and I don't know why.'

'The Bible will guide you Spencer,' she'd tell me matter of factly, and then the subject would be dropped.

Don't get me wrong, I liked the Bible as much as the next person. I'd read it before- no, not the whole thing- and I believed in God, but from what I'd heard and read, the Bible wasn't exactly pro-gay. Words like eternal damnation floated through my mind. And since the Bible wasn't all about promoting rainbows, my mom wouldn't be either.

Yeah, Dad was definitely the preferred choice. He was a strong catholic like Mom, but I guess with him being a counselor, he was a lot more sympathetic and definitely way more open minded than Mom.

I was absently flipping through the channels and passed by Will & Grace. I didn't stop or go back to it, I had just simply passed by it. Mom, however, spent the next five minutes lecturing us kids about the wrongness of homosexuality. She said tv made it seem like it was all sunshine and butterflies, when the reality was hell, which was all lake of fire and Satan.

Glen grabbed the remote from me and turned off the tv in hopes that she'd stop. It didn't even phase her.

"Even with the tv off, you can't filter that kind of sin. We shouldn't encourage things like that," she lectured, and we all quickly nodded our agreement, hoping that she would get the hint that we understood and she could stop talking. She finally stopped when my dad came in carrying the pizza.

Thank God for Papa Johns, I couldn't help but think.

I was confident in my thoughts about her reaction. I mean I just had to look at the way she treated Ashley to confirm it.

I went upstairs to mull over my conversation with my dad. What did it mean? Was I g-gay? I finally asked myself. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Ashley was "not into labels" but I knew if I asked my magic 8 ball if she was gay, it would say "signs point to yes." Well, it would if I could find it in the basement and if Glen hadn't used it as a baseball. Anyway, back to my sexual identity crisis.

I didn't freak out like I thought I would; probably because I'd been debating with myself for so long, there had been an acceptance that was slowly building.

I was gay. I liked girls.

If I could have looked into my future and seen this, I never would have believed it. But now…now it didn't seem too bad. Though there was the whole part about telling my parents. Dad would be easy, but Mom? And even Glen and Clay? Wait, I changed my mind, I wasn't ready. What about marriage…and kids? What was I doing? Was I really going to throw everything away because I was confused?

But on the other hand, was all that really my dream, or was it a dream planted into my mind? It was like my dad said, 'Don't let anyone else decide for you.' This was my life, and I firmly believed that everything happens for a reason, so why not this too?

I ended my seemingly limitless questions to go eat dinner. Glen was bragging about his game winning shot, and I was subjected to my fifth play-by-play of the day. I wisely stuffed my face with bread to avoid commenting.

Clay updated us about school and then Chelsea, claiming he was saving the best for last. He was such a sweetie. It was a shame about Glen.

Mom told us about a surgery she had to perform, thankfully only giving us a brief overview. Ever since that one time at dinner when she went into gross details about open heart surgery, we begged her to stop being so descriptive, and her stories became significantly less graphic.

"So how's Ashley?" My dad asked.

I gave him a strange look at his random question. "She's doing good."

Really what else could I say? I wasn't sure if he was purposely implying her name into our earlier talk.

"She's doing well," my mom corrected. I held back an eye roll.

"She still gay?" Glen asked smartly, deciding he wanted to join this conversation too.

I threw down my napkin and pushed my chair out to leave. "Do you have to be a jerk all the time?" I spat out angrily.

"Sit down Spencer," my mom ordered me sternly. I obediently listened, glaring at Glen the whole time as I sat back down. "Now finish your meal. You know you just don't get to leave without helping to clear the table."

I wondered at the chance of my fork hitting her jugular if I threw it across the table. I immediately felt bad- a little.

"So is that a yes?" Glen prodded.

"Glen," my dad said in a warning tone.

He put his hands up defensively. "What, I'm just asking about her friends."

"What does it matter?" I asked.

"Spencer," my mom chastised me in a disapproving voice.

"No, I'm tired of the comments about her." I slammed my napkin down again- the poor thing. "Ashley is a person just like any of us. She's been nothing but polite to you guys and yet you make her not want to come over. And you," I said turning to my mom and pointing at her accusingly, "either act like she doesn't exist or that she has some deadly disease."

My mom scoffed. "Now Spencer, that's not-"

"And I'm sick of it!" I interrupted. "You don't have to get along with her, but you do have to accept that she's my best friend, because that's not going to change."

I waited for any comments, feeling pleased that I had silenced everyone. I started to take my plate to the kitchen but my dad touched my arm and told me he'd take care of it and that I could go upstairs. I gave him a grateful smile and headed to my room.

-8 is over, oh joy-

-Save me!-

-I really hate you not being able to talk on your phone-

were the three texts I had from Ashley. They made me laugh as I read them, and I instantly felt a little better.

"Oh thank God," Ashley answered the phone excitedly.

I laughed and said, "Sorry I let you suffer."

"Eight bought me a white gold Tiffany bracelet, so I can't complain too much." I pictured her shrugging in indifference.

"Sounds better than my night," I told her softly.

Concern immediately flowed into her voice. "What happened?"

I sighed. "Just family stuff. Mainly Glen being an ass and Mom being…well Mom."

"I see," she said, but I knew that she really did understand. "You want my bracelet?" she offered.

I laughed despite myself. "No, that's ok." I paused and then added, "Thanks."

"It's not really my style anyway," she explained.

"No," I smiled, "I meant for cheering me up. You always seem to know how."

"No one should be sad, least of all you Spence." Again I could see her shrugging, trying to brush of my thanks like she normally did. "I don't like you being upset. You're too good of a person." Her tone was soft and warm and pleasing, and I felt myself smile into my pillow, feeling a little embarrassed.

"You too, Ash," I assured her gently, wanting her to know that I knew the real Ashley, even if no one else could see it.

"Not even, Spence. I wish I could be more like you," she confessed softly, her vulnerable side taking over.

I was shocked. She wanted to be like me? Why?

"I've done a lot I'm not proud of," she continued, "stuff that no one else knows. Spence, sometimes I'm afraid that if you knew everything, we wouldn't be friends."

I shook my head firmly, even though I knew she couldn't see it. "Don't say that. I don't care about what you did in your past. All I care about is the Ashley Davies now. I'm not going to stop being your friend," I promised. "God Ash, don't you realize that I wish I was more like you? I wish I had half your confidence and boldness. How can you not see what everyone else sees, that you're beautiful inside and out?" I asked her in disbelief.

Really, how could she not see that? She seemed so sure of herself, yet in moments like this, it was hard to believe that Ashley even had a cocky side.

"Spence," she whispered with so much emotion. "I don't deserve our friendship. I keep waiting for me to mess things up, or for me to wake up and realized it was all a great dream."

I desperately wished that I was there so I could hug her and reassure her physically that I was there for her. "You do deserve it," I told her passionately. "And you can't mess it up. I'm always going to be there for you. You'll probably get sick of me," I warned her with a smile.

She laughed and said, "Now it's my turn to thank you."

"Wait, let me write this down. Dear Diary, today Ashley Davies said thank you."

"I changed my mind, I don't want to be like you. You're mean," she pouted.

"And you're too sensitive," I shot back playfully.

"It's because I have this thing called a heart," she explained.

"Heart?" I asked curiously.

"I would tell you to ask your mom about it, but she wouldn't know either."

"Ah," I laughed," I was wondering how long you could go before you dissed my mom."

"Sorry, I was having withdrawals," she said, not sounding sorry at all.

"All that medication and none for that?"

"Touché, Spence, touché."

We sat in silence for a few moments, and I regretfully decided I had to let her go. I was sure my mom wouldn't give me much more privacy, and obviously closed doors didn't mean anything to her.

"Well, I'm going to go to bed. Night, Ash." I closed my eyes as I waited for her goodbye, knowing I never hang up till I hear it.

"Thanks again Spence. You'll never know how much this means," she told me, but I had a pretty good idea how she felt. "Night, sleep tight."

There was a slight pause as neither of us hung up, and it made my body hum pleasantly, knowing that even though we both said goodbye, we still didn't want to get off the phone. I hung up with a smile.

I clicked through my phone till I got to my pictures. A bigger smile formed as I scrolled through my photos of and saw the numerous ones of herself Ashley had taken. She really was amazing in so many ways, and just like she did, I thanked God for our friendship.

She paused as if she was thinking of how best to say her next words. "I..I thank God that I have you," she confessed quietly, and my urge to hug her returned tenfold. Ashley was, by no means, religious, and yet she still thanked God. Hearing her say that made me so happy.

"Ash," I said sweetly.

That was all I had said in response. Her name, the nickname I loved so much. But she knew, and it was enough. For both of us.