August turns to September and then so on and so on – school and friends and homework back to the forefront, but Ashley always finds time to place calls to Ohio and Spencer always finds the time to send letters to California. Their correspondence with one another might be slightly hindered as autumn brings familiar responsibilities – Spencer with the cheering squad, with studies and with Ashley busily avoiding academic pursuits of all kinds, opting to sneak into beatnik cafes on the strip instead – but each time they interact, whether with pen or with phones… it is somehow more intense. Their conversations stray from everyday topics and they dip toes into the deep-end of the pool.

From how they feel about their respective futures to how they feel about the world at large, from the dreams that they share with no one else to those things that both of them almost say… but neither of them have the courage to speak of, letting it hang about their heads at the end of each phone-call or each paragraph…

But it doesn't stop how Ashley feels, the build-up in her very bones with every passing day that she spends thinking of Spencer.

And it doesn't stop how Spencer feels, the way her lips always turn up and stay in a dreamy grin practically every moment – because every moment is one filled with thoughts of Ashley.

*

It is the annual Halloween party that Ashley's parents throw, where the two Davies daughters are allowed to be present ('only an hour, girls, only an hour – parents need to play, too').

Kyla, as she is every October 31st, is a witch – the good kind or so the girl says – all sparkle and lightness, bright red lips in a permanent grin.

Ashley gets less inventive as each year goes by, her days of being a ghost or a princess long gone, and this year finds her in a bathing suit and a bored expression.

Not even Kyla swiping abandoned glasses of wine or Rob Roy's, the two of them passing the alcohol back and forth – sip for sip – isn't enough to make this party fun to Ashley Davies.

I can watch my parents get blotto any night, Ashley thinks as she herself gets more and more drunk with her sister – watching with amusement as the girl's lipstick gets smeared and becomes less 'witchy' and just plain comical.

Miles and miles and miles away, in Ohio, Spencer Carlin is the fifth angel on the right at their church. Paula Carlin doesn't like Halloween, finds it too supportive of 'sinful activities, like children toilet papering houses' and so the Carlin siblings are shoved into the frankincense-scented rafters of the Church of the Blessed Sacrament and coaxed to perform acts from the Bible.

Glen, as usual, has other plans once their familial duty is carried out and – for the first time – Spencer is extremely envious.

She has been bugging him off-and-on all day, trying to figure out what he was up to once their parents settled in for the evening, and her brother has kept tight-lipped.

It's so frustrating!, Spencer thinks as she raises her hands upward and in pleading to God, but her head is filled up with her new-found freedom – and how Glen is the key to said freedom.

"Darn it all…" She mutters as the lights go back up and reveal the happy faces of every staid religious family in town.

*

November 1, 1964

Dear Ashley,

Gosh, what a dull Halloween I had! I got to bob for apples at school, but I'd like to go out like other girls my age for once. Glen disappeared and didn't offer to take me along this time… he gets to have all the fun…

Did you have a good Halloween? I hope you did. I wanted to call you so bad… It's hard to get a moment to myself at home and… maybe it doesn't make sense or anything, but I'd rather talk to you and not be bothered.

Does that make sense?

I must sound silly. Anyway, I know you'll be calling me next Saturday and I can't wait!

Sincerely,

Spencer

p.s. – And if you wore a costume for Halloween, you better tell me, Ashley Davies! No secrets from your dearly denied pen-pal… ha ha!

*

"You always make sense to me, you know?"

"I guess so. I just always think I sound so… so…"

"Silly?"

"You came up with that pretty quick…"

"Hey, I'm just quoting you!"

Spencer chuckles and cradles the phone against her ear, sitting on the floor of the kitchen with her legs stretched out before her.

It might not seem too comfortable to anyone else, but Spencer is exactly where she wants to be – chilly linoleum floor and all – because it is her call with Ashley and nothing could make that bad.

Arthur Carlin is discussing the blades of their lawn cutter with the mechanic across town and Paula Carlin is playing her every-other-weekend game of bridge – and who knows where Glen Carlin is… could be with Ricky, could be anywhere really…

Her brother has been more and more secretive lately, which left Spencer in a little funk – feeling left out of the fun, again.

"You still there, Spence?"

Hearing Ashley calling her by a nickname just about causes Spencer's heart to burst and that grin comes back full force to her face.

"Still here, Ash. Just thinkin'."

"'Bout what?"

"Glen and how he won't take me along these days."

"Maybe he has a girlfriend and is keeping it secret."

"I'd keep it secret, too. Who'd want to date him?"

Ashley laughs loudly and that grin just gets bigger (which is hard to imagine, it is already huge!) on Spencer's face. Ashley told her once that 'no one, not a single soul in all of California, is as funny as you are, Spencer' and the girl from Ohio cherishes that compliment, keeping it close in her memory and pulling it up whenever she feels low.

"I don't know, Spence. He does like good music, must be some gal in Ohio hip enough to like him… besides you, you know…"

The tail-end of Ashley's comment is soft and unassuming, a tone that Spencer is getting more and more used to when they talk – the boisterousness dissipates and is replaced by something akin to shyness and it happens at least once in every talk they have… and Spencer knows it is important, that tone and those words…

You are letting me know, aren't you, Ashley? You are telling me so much and I can only hope to do the same… so that you can know exactly how you make me feel… which is brilliant and giddy and special…

You make me feel whole, Ashley Davies and I am doing my best to let you know it.

"So, Ash…"

"Yessss?"

"I bet I can guess what you were for Halloween."

"Give it your best shot, Miss Carlin."

"An angel?"

"Nope."

"The devil?"

"Oh, I'm that every day, Spence…"

Spencer continues to guess and Ashley continues to reply in the negative, with the both of them laughing a lot along the way.

And Spencer never does get the right costume, but by the end of their call, it doesn't really matter.

*

November 17, 1964

Spencer,

Of course, we talked about this… but I didn't ever tell you what I dressed up as for Halloween.

I didn't really get a costume. I just wore my bathing suit.

I don't know, I just didn't see the point in getting all excited over my parents' party where people just drink too much and talk about boring things…

Kyla was a witch for the millionth time.

I wish you had called me. Would have made the night so much better!

But I understand about privacy and all that, believe me… Don't ever think you are silly, Spence.

You aren't, you know… you are so far from silly, really and truly…

Or, you know, if you are feeling silly, we can be silly together! Sound good?

Ashley

p.s. – Talk to you during our Thanksgiving break!

*

The Carlin clan, plus distant cousins and barely remembered family friends, all gather around the table – with kids (little and not so little) in the den and their plates of food on their laps – heads bowed in prayer.

Soon, it is the scrape of knives and forks against good chinaware and conversation.

There is talk of sports and of politics, of recipes and of sermons.

It is a typical family reunion for the Carlins.

Well, almost typical… Spencer muses as she eats and watches the girl sitting beside her brother.

Ashley had been right (and boy, she'll rub that in!) after all – Glen did have a girlfriend and that's why he had been so sneaky lately.

All red-haired and green-eyed, Lori is quite the striking girl, and Glen seems pleased as punch to have the girl there by his side. He looks positively goofy.

And Spencer wonders if that is how she looks when she is on the phone with Ashley.

Is it that obvious? Am I that obvious?

She had been surprisingly content with these new feelings, even though she knew better than to tell anyone of them. But they caused such warmth in her body – from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet – and she couldn't ever think it to be wrong.

They aren't wrong… I'm not wrong…

But Spencer kept silent about it anyway, only capable of acknowledging this emotional discovery within her own mind… at least, so far…

"Squirt?"

Spencer blinks and then glares, her face getting a little hot with embarrassment.

"Glen, don't call me that!"

"Oh. Sorry, sorry… I'm getting pie, want some?"

"Fine, yes."

Glen bounds up and heads for the kitchen, leaving Spencer and Lori with each other – not to mention a couple of eight year olds and ten year olds debating super-heroes with cranberry sauce all over their faces (more random cousins… I think).

"He's so sweet, your brother…"

"Yea, he's a peach." Spencer mutters and Lori smiles at her kindly, like she just might get the nuances of a brother/sister relationship.

"You got a beau out there?"

"Um, no…"

But it's too late, that darned smile is there and Lori is looking at her knowingly and Spencer feels her stomach fall to the depths of the very ground, far beyond the carpet and the wood… and it isn't a good feeling, not this time…

I am that obvious.

And no amount of pie can distract her from the fact that she wears this affection for Ashley Davies as plainly as one wears their flesh.

And Spencer knows, right now, that this truth is not a good thing.

*

When the lunch turned into an argument, Ashley got up from the table and left – ignoring her mother's disapproval and Kyla's clamoring to tag along – and she drove fast to the beach.

On any other occasion such as this one, she would have called Aiden and they would have hit the surf.

Or talked music. Or slept together.

But Ashley doesn't feel that old urge anymore, at least not for a boy who is a good friend and nothing more than that.

She wants to call Spencer. Hell, she'd just up and pack a bag and drive to the girl… if she could, if that were the smart thing to do…

Not that Ashley Davies is known for restraint. In fact, she is usually quite the opposite – tending to fly off the handle and do as she pleases, consequences of little matter to her.

Not with you, though, Spencer… with you, I want to take my time…

She loves getting to know Spencer Carlin, the likes and dislikes – the moods and the thoughts and the feelings – everything and anything about Spencer is of the upmost interest to Ashley.

And that's who she wants to call and talk to when things are no good at home, when her parents fight and fight and fight, when Ashley can't even find comfort on the shoreline running up and down California… it is Spencer she wants to listen to and it is Spencer she wants to speak to.

"Damn, I've got it bad, don't I?" Ashley laughs to herself, looking out at the rolling of the waves from her car window while 'I Want To Be Wanted' drifts out of the speakers.

'…when were apart, I want his heart to really miss me… that's the way I wanna be loved…'

And Ashley, if she were at the piano or had her father's old guitar with her, would sing along – she would pluck out the notes roughly at first and then smooth them out – changing only part of the song, turning 'his' to 'her'… turning some faceless guy into Spencer…

*

TBC