Fun chapter, this one…

Didn't T.J.'s treehouse have bunkbeds so all his friends could sleep over? frowns Well, if it doesn't, then it does in my story.

I don't own Spinelli, T.J., the Treehouse, Flo, or Bob…

I open my eyes, sunlight flooding my vision. The bright light hurts my eyes and then the full weight of a gigantic migraine hits me. I groan, trying to get up, but my already-hurting head hits the top of something, and another thing stands in my way. This thing is a huge lump of something… Something warm, something alive.

I let out a shriek, and the thing turns to face me. The thing is, is, T.J.? Uh oh. I glance around, realizing dully that I'm on a bunk bed in the tree house. The bottom bunk, actually. I glance down, wondering what happened.

I was terrifically drunk, and probably still am at least a little bit. I'm majorly hungover. It's not even funny. I could've done anything last night, after what happened…

I shove T.J. awake, wincing at the jar to my senses. He wakes up, looking a little bit green around the gills. He looks at me for a moment, then blinks and rubs his eyes.

"Ahh!"

As he shrieks, he falls off the bed, dragging me with him.

"Auugh! Oof!"

I wind up directly on top of him, and he reaches over to grab something nearby. I flip off of him, landing next to him.

"Teej, did we?" I ask nervously.

T.J. shrugs, gesturing to the package.

"I honestly don't remember. But if we did, we were safe," He says, holding up an opened condom packet.

I then realize that I'm not wearing my shoes or a bra, which T.J. finds halfway under the bed, handing me it.

"I think this is yours," He groans, holding his head.

I nod, scowling at him. He shoots me a glare.

Oh, crap. I didn't call Mom and Dad last night. They're gonna flip out. I mean, they knew that I was goin' to the track party, but they won't like this. I didn't come home last night. They're going to yell at me when I get back. They must be worried, right?

Ugh. There's that dance today. I have to go hungover! Great. The dance is gonna suck. Seriously.

I find my boots on the floor, shoving them on my feet and lacing them up. T.J.'s looking at me funny.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" I hiss venomously.

He backs off a little.

"Well, Spinelli, your dress is on backwards," He points out.

Glancing down at my own dress, I realize that this is true. I notice the tag on the front of his shirt.

"Your shirt's inside-out AND backwards," I retort.

He looks down, verifying my statement. He looks at me kinda nervously.

"Look, Spinelli, if we did do something, and something resulted from it, then you know I'd support you, right?" T.J. asks nervously.

I nod. He means that if we did screw, and I got pregnant from it, he'd be there. A nice offer, really. But I don't have to worry about it.

"Relax, Teej, I'm on The Pill. Now could you get me an aspirin?" I reply calmly.

He gets up, climbing out of the tree house. I scramble to my feet, putting the bra on with some difficulty in minutes. I'm about to ditch when I hear T.J. coming back. He looks better, handing me some aspirin and water. I devour the pill and water, jumping down from the tree house, to my dismay, with T.J. following.

"Spinelli, wait up! I'll walk you home!" He proclaims, grabbing my arm, pulling me to a stop.

Oh well. Might as well have some company. My parents won't yell at me so much if there's someone with me. He can help lie too. I shrug and he follows. We walk in silence down the street. I can see my house now. I gulp. Here goes.

T.J. grabs my hand, an action that really surprises me and scares me at the same time. But I don't shy away from his grip, something that surprises the both of us. I knock on the door.

My frantic parents open it, Mom elbowing Dad.

"See, Bob, I told you it was just a late night, but you didn't listen!" Mom scolds.

However, when Dad sees T.J., he sees red. So, in a second, T.J.'s ripped from my grip and thrown against the wall, my dad gripping his shirt by the collar. Mom lets out a little scream. While I'm taken aback somewhat by my father's rash actions, I can't say it doesn't amuse me to watch this.

"What did you do to my daughter, you little twerp? Why is she home so late? What did you do to her?" Dad screeches.

Oh, man, he's gonna kill T.J. T.J.'s gonna be dead. Dead, dead, dead. I gotta save him from Dad's wrath. And so, being strong too, I yank Dad off Teej.

"Dad, man, chill out!" I holler.

He shoots me a look.

"That boy. He… He… He…"

He can't even articulate a sentence. I place my hands on my hips.

"He what, Dad?" I snap.

I roll my eyes at his stuttering.

"He…"

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.

"What Dad, do you think that he had sex with me?" I said bluntly.

Mom's eyes widened, as did Dad's. At the moment, they repulse me more than anything.

"I can't believe you'd think so low of me!" I snap.

Dad shakes his head, while Mom looks terrified. T.J. stares on in awe.

"It's not you we think low of, Pookie dear, it's him," Dad utters shakily.

This only serves to enrage me more.

"Why do you think low of him? What has he done? Do you think of him as some time of a man slut or something? And don't call me that!" I scream, rounding on Dad.

Dad swallows a little bit nervously and Mom shakes in the corner. T.J. stares at me, wonder and amazement flickering across his face.

"W-well, honey, uh, we thought you hated him. And you two d-do get into lots of fights," Dad stuttered.

Anger radiates from my every pore.

"Why does it matter if I hate him or if I don't? Why do you care? You've never cared before! But I'm okay with that. You just chose a really crappy time to start! And anyways, so what if I get in fights with him, that's no reason for you to start either! Now, whether or not I slept with this idiot really isn't any of your business, and why would I anyways? If you excuse me, I'd like some food and a shower because I happen to have a dance today, so I'm gonna get ready for that!" I roar.

Mom quivers, Dad scowls, thinking of something to say and T.J. gapes. I go into the kitchen, making myself some lunch. I can still hear them.

"Look, Mr. And Mrs. Spinelli, I'm sorry that she got here so late. It's just, well, I had a party at my house after the track party, and Spinelli came, and she insisted on helping me clean up, and so then, she fell asleep at my house and that was only a few hours ago and I couldn't wake her. Sorry."

T.J.'s stumbling over the words. Dad's angry and Mom's suspicious.

"T.J., darling, that doesn't really sound like our Ashley."

"Yeah, she doesn't help out much. Or like you, actually."

"Uh, isn't that a little mean to say about your own daughter?"

"Hey! You heard her, boy! She just yelled at me!"

"Bob, honey, she didn't technically say that she didn't like T.J. She said, and I quote: "Why does it matter if I hate him or if I don't?". Of course, it's obvious that she's got a thing for him, dear."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Spinelli does not have a thing for me!"

"Oh really? Then why'd she sleep with you?"

"How do you even know if she slept with me? Besides, she's had eight boyfriends. If she slept with anyone, it's probably one of them."

"Ah. You'll be number nine, T.J., dear."

"Somehow, I don't think so."

"Oh, come on, she slept with you, didn't she?"

"No, she didn't."

"Oh yeah, like we buy that!"

"Bob, shh. Don't scare him off, he could be Ashley's true love."

"True love? What kind of B.S. is that, Flo?"

"Look, I don't know why you think I'm going to be dating her, but I ought to go anyways. I've got to get ready for that dance too."

"Let me guess, you'll be stopping by later on to pick Ashley up, right, dear?"

"Yeah."

"See, you're her next boyfriend already."

"No, I'm not!"

"Riight. She's crazy about you, T.J., honey."

"Mrs. S, I really don't think she'd appreciate you saying that."

"Probably not, but it's true, isn't it?"

"No, why would it be?"

"She hates you a little too much for her to actually hate you. There is a thin line between love and hate, you know."

"Uh…"

"Besides, you have the biggest thing for her, dear. I think it's adorable. You two are adorable."

"Uh…"

"Flo, don't get carried away."

"But Bob!"

"Flo, honey, relax…"

Oh, man, I can't stomach that. At all. Whatsoever. Almost as much as I can't stomach this sandwich. I get up, marching upstairs. I've got a lot to do, don't I?

Definitely.

Well, by now it's like two in the afternoon. The dance starts at seven. Okay then.

- Loren ;

Oh, as to if anything happened with Spinelli and T.J., that's for you to know. But there's no problems stemming from it… It gets bad once they get to the dance.

Review if the mood strikes you.