Another one! Man, I'm on a roll.
Glad I could make you guys happy by having them get rescued finally. It's about time. Now I just have to wrap up everything at home.
Chapter Thirty-seven
"We're here at L.A.X. airport, awaiting the landing of the two teenage survivors of last month's plane crash. Ashley Davies—daughter of late rock star Raife Davies—and companion Spencer Carlin were flying into Canada over Labor Day weekend when the engine of their private jet stalled. Distress calls were made before all contact was lost. Miss Davies and Miss Carlin were discovered just yesterday by deer hunter Jordan Crothall after surviving thirty-two days in the Canadian wilderness. Details of the two girls' physical health are yet unknown. It has already been reported that jet pilot Jason Travers was killed in the crash. Full coverage of this developing story when we return. Reporting live from the Los Angeles International Airport, I'm Linda Schultz with CNN."
Behind the police barriers, a half dozen other news journalists gave similar reports. Crews for television stations and newspapers switched their camera focus between the reporters, the family, and the landing strip.
"…King High students Spencer Carlin and Ashley Davies…"
"…airport officials have closed the runway down in anticipation of their plane's arrival…"
"…rock star heiress Ashley Davies suffered the loss of her father, rocker Raife Davies, earlier this year…"
"…as the girls' families wait anxiously for their landing…"
"…Spencer Carlin is the sister of Clay Carlin, a victim of last spring's King High prom shooting …"
"…unclear how the two girls managed to survive the unusually early winter onset…"
When the military jet was sighted, the journalists and random spectators buzzed. Paula could hardly stand still, her shaking hands twisting the hem of her shirt. Arthur stood behind her with his hands on his wife's shoulders, murmuring assurances in her ear. Glen, though he wouldn't admit it, was fighting an urge to fidget similar to his mother's, his stomach churning with anticipation.
A short ways away, Kyla stood patiently, arms casually crossed and sunglasses shielding her eyes. Christine was notably (but not surprisingly) absent. In the older woman's stead, Aiden lurked behind Kyla, shifting his weight from foot to foot with his hands jammed deep in the pockets of his motorcycle jacket.
"Oh, would you stop dancing around," the petite brunette snapped over her shoulder. "You're making me jumpy."
Now, whether he ceased his restless squirming or not, no one cares because the plane was touching down on the tarmac. Cameras trained their focus on the plane as it came to a stop. Eager gazes searched the windows for movement. Paula clutched Arthur's hand and held her breath.
A set of airplane stairs were wheeled to the side hatch by airport personnel.
Another minute passed.
Finally, the door opened.
The first person to appear was one of the Canadian Search and Rescue workers. The man in uniform traveled the stairs to the ground and waited. Everyone watching was silent. Then, after a short delay, a brunette ducked through the hatch and stepped into the light, tired brown eyes squinting in the bright California sun. The girl took two stairs down, then turned and held out her hand towards the plane door. A blonde appeared soon after, a sling on her arm and a weary smile on her face.
Ashley let Spencer pass her on the stairs, a guiding hand helping the blonde keep her balance on the way down. The brunette followed her to the ground. The man waiting for the girls bid them farewell as one of his coworkers unloaded their gear.
Unable to contain herself any longer, Paula began rushing over, and Spencer broke away from Ashley to meet her mother halfway, the two blondes hugging fiercely. It wasn't long before Arthur and Glen joined the embrace.
Ashley watched the reunion with a bit of a sad smile. Her gaze was interrupted, though, when a dark-haired blur crashed into her, nearly knocking her to the ground.
"Jesus, Kyla!" she cursed as she regained her footing—no small feat considered the arms wrapped tightly around her body.
Then, as quickly as she had latched on, Kyla pushed herself off her sister and punched her in the arm. "Don't ever pull something like this again! You hear me?!"
"It's kind of hard to not hear you when you're shrieking like banshee," the older sister retorted.
Kyla just smirked, and Ashley returned it. Looking away, brown eyes searched the crowd of people on the tarmac. In the back of her mind, Ashley noticed Aiden standing several yards away, but he wasn't the one she was looking for. Her heart dropped a little.
"She's not here…is she…?"
Kyla cringed. "She's in the Caribbean for another couple days."
The older brunette's shoulders drooped. "…some mother…"
"Her words? Unless you were coming back in a body bag, she wasn't going to cut her vacation short to cater to your rebellious antics."
"Please, she wouldn't even then. Dead or alive, it's not like I'd be going anywhere, so what's a few more days without seeing her only daughter?"
Ashley rubbed her face with her hands, pinching the bridge of her nose while Kyla looked uncomfortably on. She sensed someone come up next to her.
"Ashley?" a male voice called gently.
Lowering her hands, the girl looked up into his kind face. "Hey, Mister C."
Arthur smiled warmly. "Are you all right?"
"More or less," she answered with a shrug.
"It's good to see you home safe."
Even with that simple admission, Ashley's spirits lifted slightly, and she hugged him firmly. "Thanks, Mister C." As she released Spencer's father, there was a tap on her shoulder. She glanced up to see Glen's goofy smile and conjured her own with a mocking bobbled of her head. "What?"
"Kyla totally let me drive your Porsche."
Chocolate orbs widened in disbelief swiveled to meet those of her sister (whose eyes were also widened, only hers in panic). "You what?!"
"Ixnay on the Orschepay," Kyla murmured nervously to the blonde boy.
"My Porsche?!"
"Uh…"
"He drove my Porsche here?"
"I thought you'd want to drive it home!" Kyla tried to reason. "And it's not like I drove it!"
"So you let Glen drive it?"
"Better him than Aiden…" the younger sister whispered.
Ashley's eyes narrowed as she considered this. "…true." She continued to glare."…fine. I suppose since you meant well, I won't kill you. This time. Nobody except a valet service is allowed to drive my baby. Either of them," she added as an afterthought.
"Bet you'd let Spencer drive them…" came a quiet mutter.
Again, Ashley thought about it. "…shut up."
At that moment, Spencer and her mother joined the growing cluster of people. "Ashley. Good to see you're well," Paula greeted somewhat stiffly, though civilly.
"Uh, thanks, Pau—Missus C."
The older woman turned to her daughter. "Come on, Spencer. Let's take you home."
It seemed the idea of parting with Ashley hadn't yet entered the younger blonde's mind, and she worriedly met the brunette's gaze.
Ashley gave a reassuring smile. It didn't quite reach her eyes. "I guess I'll…talk to you later."
A valiant effort on the brunette's part, but the distress mirrored in her own eyes was plain as day to the person who could read her so well. The look the shared did not go unnoticed by those watching, and it was no surprise when Spencer broke into hurried footfalls towards the other girl.
For all her attempted poise, a close observer would note that Ashley took an earnest step to meet Spencer that fraction of a second sooner. Two arms were flung around her neck just as her own wrapped around the blonde's back.
"It's not like you're never going to see me again, Spence."
The strong words were marred when Ashley tightened her embrace even as she spoke them. Any lingering hope to fool Spencer was dashed when the brunette buried her face into her lover's neck, squeezing her eyes shut against the sudden prick of tears.
Whispered 'I love yous' mingled as both girls professed them. Spencer pulled back just enough to find Ashley's lips with her own, not caring who was watching. Oblivious to the flashes of news cameras. Unaware of Kyla's smug look of self-satisfaction. Not concerned with Aiden's expression of pain. Not seeing the proud smile on her father's face, or the eye roll her brother gave.
Not knowing Paula was fighting back tears. Not of anger or resentment or disgust, but of an emotion completely foreign as she witnessed her daughter's display of affection.
Slowly, the girls untangled from each other with discreet sniffles and a careless wiping of their eyes. The blonde started backing away, though her fingers were entwined with those of her lover.
"Spencer." When the blonde met her gaze, Ashley raised the girl's hand to her lips and lightly kissed her knuckles. "I'm yours," she whispered. "…and you still owe me a skinny-dip."
With a shy smile, Spencer turned to her family and let them lead her out of the airport, her belongings in tow. Ashley watched her go until the Carlin family was out of sight.
With a smirk, Kyla shoulder bumped her sister. "You ready to go home?"
Ashley dragged her gaze away from where she last saw her lover. "Yeah. I am."
With that, the two sisters also walked off the tarmac, ignoring both the flock of journalists and the familiar pair of sad eyes watching them leave.
Hours later found Spencer showered, freshly changed, and full from a home-cooked meal. She had already narrated the tale of their survival (editing out certain intimate details, of course), leaving her parents and brother stunned. Going back and mentally reliving the entire experience surprised even Spencer herself, recalling just how much she and Ashley had been through.
She had also received phone calls from various relatives and friends (and lover—twice. Each time, the brunette made up a semi-plausible excuse for why she 'had' to call.) Now, she was content watching television, sandwiched on the sofa between Paula and Arthur. Even Glen seemed to want to stay close to her as he huddled on the floor in front of her knees. It was comfortable. Familiar. Homey.
Her cell phone began to ring. Digging the device out of her pocket, she checked her called ID and chuckled. The girl had made it another whopping two hours. Pushing off from the couch, she excused herself from her family.
"I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" With a nods from Arthur and Paula, Spencer answered her phone on her way to the stairs. "Forget something?" she greeted teasingly.
"I swear I was never this needy before I met you."
"Ashley Davies, needy?"
"Shut up. I couldn't sleep."
"It's 7:30."
"Hey, I told you I'd talk to you later, and it's later, damnit."
Spencer smiled softly, reclining on her bed and idly turning a certain memento around in her fingers. It was the flower Ashley had given her the morning they got back together, pressed and dried to preservation. She was sure the brunette didn't know she still had it. "I miss you, too."
Spencer could practically hear Ashley's nose crinkle with a smile. "We're pretty sad, aren't we?"
"No. Just very much in love."
"Come over?"
"You know I can't. Mom will kill me if I leave the house this soon."
"Yeah, I guess." Ashley sighed. "Kyla's being all weird and clingy, too, even though she's trying really hard to hide it."
"She cares about you. And you know you missed her, too."
"Don't ever tell her that."
"My lips are sealed."
"That's unfortunate."
"Bite me."
"I would if you were here."
Spencer sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"
"That is the question, isn't it?" the brunette responded devilishly.
"We'll see each other soon enough."
"Never soon enough."
"Goodnight, Ash."
Ashley tossed her cordless phone up onto her bed with a smirk. Standing from her beanbag chair, she walked over to her keyboard, where her music notebook sat. She plopped down on the stool and slid a folded piece of paper out of the binder's pocket. Unfurling the paper, she gazed at the drawing of the flower, 'S heart A' written in Spencer-script beneath it. That simple little thing still made her smile like an idiot.
Setting the note aside, she flipped her notebook open to the page entitled 'Everytime,' her fingers dancing lightly over the keyboard as she tested out the sound. Over the next several hours, she polished up the score, adding notes, changing chords, and fine-tuning the countermelody.
Downstairs, the doorbell rang. A smile came to her face. The brunette nearly bounded down the staircase and through the living room to the foyer. She opened the door, grin firmly in place as she knew who would be on the other side.
Or not.
Her smile vanished.
"Aiden."
Author's addendum:
-laughs evilly-
-bursts into a fit of coughs-
-almost chokes on the Aiden dander-
Um, don't hurt me? The next chapter should be...interesting...and long...
Three more to go!