I remember waking up in the middle of the night. I remember how my tired eyes would blink open. My curious hands would stretch across crisp sheets; my curious hands found nothing. Always left with nothing but the bed's freshness.

I'd fumble for my cell phone, looking for the time and a phone call. Always an early morning hour, never a message.

I'd roll on my back and stare at the white ceiling. I'd watch every circle the fan made. Waiting for when I'd chance the house. For when I'd look for her. I might have heard something in the living room, I might only believed I had. Whatever the reason, I'd finally slide from beneath that white comforter. I'd feel my earlier beers. I 'd smell the cigarette smoke on my hair. It was starting to bother me. It was almost nauseating.

I remember how my heart would lift when I caught the living room light on. When I found her sitting on the couch. Sometimes the TV was on. Sometimes there was music playing. Sometimes she was just there in silence. A lazy hand petting a lazy Hunter in her lap.

This time there was silence. This time it was just her. Just her and an untouched open beer on the table before her. Her body was so relaxed on the couch.

"Hey there..." my body leaned against the wall to the side of her, bare arms crossing before my tank top torso. She turned her drunk eyes towards me. They were always smiling. They were always awake. They were always alive.

"Hey beautiful." Crooked lips covered her teeth, a crystal blue eye winked at me. Any concern, any worry from before disappeared. She had me too easily.

She just had me. She always did.

I shuffled over and flopped down beside her warm body. Her heavy head rested on my shoulder before I even hit the couch. Her hand held onto mine so warmly. Her fingers whispered "I'm sorry" against my cool skin. Her thumb rubbed it into me so strongly. So honestly.

I always believed it.

I kept my eyes on our hands. "So did you have a good time?" Her head mindlessly nodded into my neck. Her fingers stroked me harder. She made her silent apologies louder.

"Only when you were there, though." The words breathed across my skin, and I closed my eyes. I held her words deep inside. I believed them. I stroked my fingers against her hand. I made hers stop apologizing.

"I missed you, Ash." Our hands rose as her lips found the back of mine, kissing it all better. Kissing everything away.

"Yeah well.." my body slid further down the couch, letting our heads rest together, "...you know how much of a lightweight I can be."

I felt her tipsy giggles against my body. I felt them dissolve away, I felt them swiftly leave the room. I felt her lips as they blanketed my ear. A soft honest voice gently walked inside me.

"All I know is how perfect you are."

I rolled my eyes. I playfully swatted her arm. "Oh shut up." laughed it's way out of my mouth.

She wasn't laughing. She moved off the couch, putting herself in front of me. Putting her direct face in front of mine. She looked at me for what seemed an eternity. Her eyes were taking a picture. I watched her remember me. I watched her take in every single dimple and line on my face. I saw her etching it into her memory. I saw her holding so tightly. I saw her holding me inside a safe place.

"I mean it Ashley..." Her wide eyes were so serious, "...you're it." Her hand gently came out to brush the loose curls from my face "...you're it for me."

I wasn't giggling. I wasn't playful. I turned my photographic eyes on her. I etched her in my memory. It was a moment. It was a moment that hits you. Hits you so hard. The kind you hold on to. The kind you know how important it is as it unfolds. You know it and you store it inside of you. All of it. Every insignificant detail that means everything. The way her pony tail was lopsided. The way hunter padded down the hall. The way I could smell the beer on her. The way she never smelt better.

"I know." It was all I could say. It was all I had to say.

She kissed me so lightly. So gentle, as if at any moment I'd break. As if I were covered in "handle with care" stickers. I felt it inside her. I felt her afraid that at any minute she'd lose me. And I felt it too. I felt the same. I held her so tightly with light lips. We whispered "I love you"s between feather light kisses. And with each kiss I forgot my frustration from earlier. I forgot my disappointment. I forgot everything I felt when I left the party. When I left alone. When I was without her. I forgot how leaving alone was becoming customary.

I forgot waking up alone. I forgot fumbling around sheets. I forgot no phone calls and late hours.

"Hey..." her warm lips left mine, her loving eyes looked down where our kisses once were "...play for me, will you?"

Innocent eyes turned to mine. She looked like a little kid. She looked like a little girl on Christmas eve, asking to open her presents. And I never refused. I never turned her down. One quick roll of the eyes, and I was inside the palm of her hand.

Just like that.

I held my guitar in my lap. I played perfectly, expertly. Flawlessly.

Just for her.

I sang the words so softly, so truthfully, so meaningfully. When my eyes were open, they were on her. When the words meant too much I closed them. When I felt them all too hard in my heart. When I couldn't look anywhere but inside myself.

Her eyes applauded me. Her eyes kissed me. Her eyes loved me.

And the longer I looked into them the more they gave me everything I needed. I forgot again. I forgot everything. I forgot my suspicions. My assumptions. I forgot why she stayed out. I forgot the way it drove me crazy. The way it slowly killed me.

The way I believed she was cheating on me. The way I was sure there was another.

It's only now, looking back, that I remember. That I know the truth. I know I assumed too much. I know how wrong I really was. I know how different things would have been. If only I were right.

It's only now I wish I were right. I wish she were cheating on me. Because then I'd only be heartbroken. I wouldn't have Spencer reminding me of my dead heart. I wouldn't be reminded period. She wouldn't be dead.

And I'd break my heart into a million pieces if it'd change that. I'd break myself completely if I could have her back.

I hear a womans sniffling die down outside of me. I blink and I'm back. I blink and I'm not in that living room. I blink and I'm in a weeping circle again. I glance around and see our attention focused on the older than she looks Lisa. A thirty year old trapped inside a fifty year olds body. She's dotting her cheeks with a hanky.

She's so polite in her grieving.

Lisa's sister died of a brain aneurysm three years ago. Lisa is here every Friday. I stare at her. I stare and wonder if I'm seeing myself in three years.

That's the thing about this place, this "therapy". The longer we stay in here the longer we stay inside our grief. No one's progressing here. This circle is like an alternative universe. A world where we can still hold on to the people we've lost. Where we grip them so tight between our white tissues and empty coffee cups.

It's a world where we never have to let go. A world we can hide in.

For the past three Friday's I've been hiding in this world. Three Friday's since I last saw Spencer, since we fought, and I've been trying to live in this world. I was lonely. I had no one. Without Spencer, no one calls. No one stops by. No one cooks dinner. I have to do everything on my own. I'm alone.

I'm alone and scared.

For the past three weeks all I've had are these Fridays. All I've had is Lisa's permanently damp hanky. All I've had are Stacy's friendly eyes. All I've had are Jack's manly sobs.

All I have is this strange world. And I'm tired of it.

"Well..." Stacy leans forward, hands on her knees "...that's it for tonight, guys." She looks around "...see you next Friday?"

It's a question that needs no answer. It's an invitation that needs no RSVP. This world is always open. This world is always there waiting for you.

But I don't need it. I'm done for tonight. Maybe being alone is better.

I toss another empty friend in the trash and walk out. The heavy front door opens and June's humid night air covers me. A California summer is here and it's hard. It's rough. So rough. This summer is the beer that keeps getting shoved in your hungover face. It's the alcohol you can't take but it's all you can smell. It's all around you, reminding you, sickening you.

This summer is the ghost that I need to escape and never will.

I breathe hard down the front concrete steps. My mind goes to Spencer briefly. My mind wonders what she's up to. My mind wonders if we'll ever talk again. My mind wonders why she hasn't called. My mind wonders why I haven't called her.

"Hey Ashley."

The voice startles me as I stop before my car. I'm hesitant before glancing to my left.

"Oh..." Anthony's tall frame stands on the beaten down sidewalk before my car "...hey."

I watch him unsure, wondering which Anthony stands before me. The charming friend or the intimidating body guard. He holds out a cup of coffee. His smile shows a friend. I let my guard down and walk towards him.

"Thanks."

He just smiles, sliding a free hand into his jean pocket as he glances to the side. "Sit?" His head motions towards a bench.

"Uh...sure."

His body relaxes on the old boards while mine does the opposite. Mine is tense and upright. Once again I hold on to my coffee. I hold on for dear life. At least this cup's hot. At least this cup is fresh. At least this cup sits inside a real world. A world that reminds me I'm alive.

"So how you doing?"

His arm sits across the back of the bench and his legs are loosely crossed. His body makes this bench seem more comfortable, more inviting, than it actually is.

"Ok..." my eyes glimpse to the side before falling back to my cup holding hands "...I guess."

"I hope you don't mind me stopping by. I promise I'm not stalking you" he laughs, and I lightly do too, he makes me feel better, "...Spencer told me you come to these meetings."

Oh, right...Spencer. He must notice it. He must notice my body tensing, he must know the name's sensitivity, as he continues, "Yeah, Spencer..."

It's a thought he never finishes. He just lets it hang out there, as if I'm going to complete it for him. It's mysterious bait on a sharp hook, and I'm not biting.

"Anthony?," He looks at me kindly. "...why are you so nice to me?"

I feel my body relax somewhat from the question. From a question I've been needing to ask. I finally sit back and turn to him, I can feel his bare arm against my back. It's his turn to look down. It's his turn to think. It's his turn to debate it. To decide whether or not he wants to tug on my line.

"You remind me of someone."

He looks at me with hidden meaning covered in his eyes, his smile, his words. A meaning that's not so hidden. A meaning I finally get.

At least, I think I do.

"Spencer?"

A light nod gives me my answer. A light nod pats me on the back for a job well done.

"She hates me." The words quickly leave my tight lips. A sharp laugh pushes it's way through them as well. He laughs too. He laughs in a way that's more "you're wrong" than "that's funny."

"What..." My eyes are nervous, my mind's unsure on what to think "...she does." It comes out so quiet, so silent. So afraid the words are true.

He laughs again. "You think you're always right, don't you?"

"Huh?"

"I don't mean it offensively..." He adjusts his body and he gets comfortable. As if he's buckling the seat belt for whatever ride he came here to take. "...you're just a person who always thinks they know what's going on. You think everything you believe is the truth, don't you?'

I'm ready to answer quickly, I'm ready to shut him down. But I don't. I can't. I'm not sure why, but by the way he laughs I think he knows.

"It's not a bad thing, love, I'm the same way."

My face turns towards him, eyes still a little confused.

"I mean we can always spot ourselves in a crowd, right?" He leans closer to me, eyes squinting slightly, just like hers would when she was about to tell me a secret "You and me, kid..." an affectionate smile "...we're not that far apart."

He leans back again, eyes looking out to the parking lot "And she doesn't hate you, believe me, I know..." A smart ass smile flies my way "...I am always right, after all."

We sit there in the silence. I hear crickets chirping between each passing car. He seems like he's in no rush to leave, and neither am I. I like the company. I like feeling not so alone. I like this world. I like it so much more than the circle world behind me. Then the empty white walled world waiting for me.

"She's a special girl, you know."

His voice hits me inside. Something about his honesty. Something about his affection. It hits me in my heart. I don't say anything though. I remain quiet. There's nothing to say. There's nothing I could possibly add. I wouldn't tell Michael Jordan how to slam dunk. And I wouldn't tell Anthony anything about Spencer. I wouldn't because he already knows. He knows it all and I'm only here to listen.

I want to listen.

"She's gone through a lot. You know that, you understand it. But you still don't completely understand. There's a lot she still has to tell you, and she will..." A long sip of coffee "...when she's ready."

"I'm sorry."

It leaves my lips before I can stop it. It's the most honest I've been in a long time.

"I know you are, but you don't need to be." His eyes hold so much wisdom inside them, so much outside of this conversation. "...if I'm going to be honest, I'm glad you pushed her. I'm really glad. She needs it..."

A sigh.

"She needs to break."

I feel a weight lift. I watch a cloud of guilt fade away. And I know not to ask any further. I know he's not going to tell me.

"You've been a good friend Ashley."

I have to laugh. I have to acknowledge the sarcasm in that statement.

"No I'm serious..." he's not laughing "...Spencer's changed. Especially these past three weeks."

The coincidence hurts. "Yeah cause I'm not around."

But he's not going to let me go that easily. He's not gonna let me believe it.

"Oh that's bullshit and you know it. You woke that girl up, Ashley. You ripped her eyes open..." there's a meaningful pause, "...and they haven't closed since."

I don't know if it's a good thing. I don't know if I want to believe it.

"Yeah..." I don't want to believe it "...right."

He shakes his head and bites his lip "There you go again..." knowing eyes fall on me "...assuming."

I roll my eyes. He rolls his.

"Fine you don't believe me. Ok. But if you had no effect on her..." He stands tossing his coffee in the trash beside us. His eyes return to mine, that hidden meaning blanketing them once again.

"If that's truly the case...why am I boarding a plane next week?"

I look up to him, confusion sitting on my face.

"Why am I going to my family's summer house in Nantucket?"

My eyes widen. My mouth opens. I stand. I have to.

"Is she..." suddenly I'm too afraid to finish my question. I'm too afraid and I don't know why.

He simply nods, there's a sadness in his eyes that I can't read, "Four days there and she's already called." He sighs. His shoulders seem so heavy. " She's called too many times." I see the bodyguard flush through him for a moment. He smiles and it disappears.

I look to the ground. I feel responsible. I feel guilty. Whatever Spencer's going through right now, whatever pain she's in, whatever reason she's gone to Nantucket, I'm the reason for it.

"Don't feel bad, Ash. This is a good thing."

My eyes turn to his truthful ones. He looks so serious, so honest, that I have to believe him. I have to lightly nod my head.

"Which brings us to the reason I'm here." He kind of shuffles his feet, he kind of beats around the bush "...I know this is really pretty random and a shit load of pressure..." one deep breath "...but would you come with me?"

I blink. My voice trips outside my mouth. I don't know what to say. I don't even know if I heard him right. If he really asked that. I wasn't expecting that. He looks like he figured as much. He laughs.

"I know, it's a lot to ask, like a fucking lot to ask...but you've come to mean a lot to her. To Spencer. She'd want you there. She needs you."

"Oh yeah I'm sure." I'm still not seeing whatever he sees. I'm still not ready to believe.

And he still can't believe me. His head shakes and his eyes widen. "Man, you still haven't gotten it have you?" He leans in, a quirky smile on his face. "You still don't know that I'm always right."

He's playful. He's joking. It lifts the heavy air. I laugh. He laughs. He's joking but I know he believes it. I know he thinks he's right. My eyes look into his. I take in everything he's said. Everything he just asked me.

I'm not sure he's right.

"I appreciate it, Anthony, I really do. That you care and you think I can help. But I haven't heard from Spencer. She hasn't tried to see or talk to me. So I have to assume she'd rather not have me there."

His head tilts slightly "Ahh, yes..." mouth hanging open, more curious staring "...there's the other thing..."

I look at him confused.

"You still assume too much."

He gives me one last friendly smile and walks away. I hear his steps taking him further away, but his voice still finds me.

"When you realize it, give me a call." a confident chuckle "We leave next Wednesday"

I stand in place. I let his words hit me like the humid heavy hair I'm standing in. His words hang around me like the stale alcohol surrounding my weary self.

I don't know if Anthony's right. I don't know anything.

Crickets chirp. Cars pass. I can smell the ocean if I try hard enough. This is what I know. This is everything I know. This haunting ghost that sweeps around me. This summer that keeps wrapping it's mean arms around my little body.

This is all I know. And it's killing me. It surrounds me more and more every day.

I look to my car. I feel a tightness in my chest.

I need an escape.

I take a deep breath. I exhale.

Maybe I just found one.