Reviews: emilyscott101- voila, more dialogue.

hackensack nights- thumbs up to you too, dude.

Sammi- Ask and ye shall recieve... another update anyway.

simpa and erin- I love you for loving it

Krissy- Smiles for you, too.

B-girl and S.O.N. luva- It's awesome that you think my story's awesome

Elizabeth354- Always nice to hear I've got characterization down, it's like the hardest thing as a writer.

mercurial13- Love the specifics and LOOOOVE the ego boost! Gracias.

Disclaimer: We all know I don't own it, don't sue. And by the way, any views expressed in this fic that may be deemed bigoted or offensive do not reflect the views of the author.

Rating: I'm upping the rating for this chapter to R to be safe for language and sexual content.

A/N: So, it looks like I'm ignoring my homework. But honestly, it's Spashley... Homework never had a chance. It occurs to me that Ashley got suspended during "Under My Skin," and as I don't know how long her suspension was for, let's say for fictual purposes it was only for the day. So, please don't hate me for what follows. It's wouldn't be fun if I just got our girls together, now would it? Of course not. Shit happens, wackiness will ensure, but they WILL be together, so be patient. Thanks a buttload to all who reviewed, they are greatly appreciated. Feedbacklove. Without further ado, Good Times...

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"Spencer," I say again. "We need to talk." I wait for you to say something, anything, but you just stare. At everything, anything but me. "About what happened the other day?"

"What happened the other day?" a disturbingly male voice echoes behind me. Seriously, Aiden could not have worse timing if he tried, and sometimes I think he does.

"Nothing," you say, all too quickly. He completely misses the daggers I shoot at him, him and those giant, ripple-y biceps. Honestly, who needs all that muscle?

My stomach does a little flip when I see you flash him one of those Spencer-smiles that are as reflexive for you as breathing. You used to smile at me like that.

"You ready to go?" he asks you. Go? Go where? He hasn't even said hi to me yet, he's just been ogling like the horny little schoolboy he is--not that I care, because I really don't.

"Yeah, sure. Just let me pack up my stuff." Hello, does anyone want to clue me in here?

"Hello? Does anyone wanna clue me in here?" Aiden turns to me as if he's just notices I'm here, which he probably has.

"Oh, Ashley. Um, me and Spencer were gonna go check out the uh, the um…" he says.

"The Calloway film on the boardwalk," you add.

"You're ditching?" Without me?

"Well, yeah. It closes today and the last showing is at 1:00." Funny how you're not looking at me while you get rid of me. Again.

"We would've asked you, but you're in deep with your mom, so..." Aiden mumbles.

"I'm so sure, Aiden," I turn to look at you and away from all the man-ness. "Spence, I really need to talk to you, can't you just--"

"No, um, I gotta go. Come on, Aiden."

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Spencer's POV

It's not that I don't want to talk to Ashley, because I do. God, all I ever want to do is talk to her. But what the hell am I going to say? Yeah, sorry we made out for, like five minutes, it was an accident, but we're still friends, right? I can't do this. I can't. I can't be with Ashley. I can't be with any girl. None of it. Ever. It's not about what I want and it doesn't matter that I want it... It can't happen. I'm not gay. I'm not. Gay is for guys with high voices and curling irons. Gay is for girls with mullets and...flannel. I am not gay. I can't be.

I mean, it's all Ashley's fault anyway. I never would've thought about girls if she hadn't been so...out about everything. If she hadn't been all, "Guys aren't the only option," then I never would've thought otherwise. Because guys ARE the only option for me. It doesn't matter that Ashley is sweet and funny and brave strong and good to me and beautiful as hell, she's still a she. And she and I don't go together. It doesn't matter that I get butterflies when she smiles at me. It doesn't matter that seeing her in her underwear makes me melt. It doesn't matter that I've planned our wedding, named our children, and picked out our burial plots. Because Ashley and I can't happen.

That's why I'm with him. Aiden's just as pretty as Ashley minus all the girly parts. Though I think his boobs may be bigger than mine... Be he's a he and that's what matters. He's sweet when he wants to be and smart when he tries. And he's hot, right? He's exactly the kind of guy I should want, I mean there are tons of girls who would gladly murder me and step over my dead body just to get in his pants and here I am about to take them off.

Because I want this. I want Aiden. And I'm not thinking that Ashley would've held my hand walking down the pier. I'm not thinking that she would've held the door open for me when we went to the theatre. I'm not thinking that Ashley is soft and smooth everywhere Aiden is hard and hairy. I'm not wishing that the arms around my waist were thinner. I'm not pretending that the body on top of mine is a hundred pounds lighter. I stopped hoping that the hands in my hair and under my shirt and up my skirt would stay on my face. Because I'm not thinking about Ashley. I'm not.

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Ashley's POV

I've had enough of this. This game we play. Talking and teasing is all well and good until someone gets hurt. And that someone has been me too many times. I won't let you do that to me. I won't do that to me. If you want to be with him, fine. I don't care. Go be with him and then you can go back to the cheerbreeders and please your mommy. Go be little Miss Perfect, have a fucking ball, I really don't care. Sure, I thought that you might be good for me. Maybe I believed that you actually cared about me. So what if I thought that you saw something in me, and maybe that meant there was something there. I was wrong. I'm not about to deal with all this coming-to-terms and coming out shit. That's too much drama for this mama, and I don't need anymore frown lines. And I don't need you.

It's your own fault, really. I never pretended to be anything I wasn't and you totally led me on. Always with the smiling and the hugging and the kissing, twice! You said that we were okay. You said that we were better than okay. I didn't have to take a chance on you, you know. I get enough crap from the cheerbitches without trying to "turn a new recruit." And I so did not need all that shit from your mom! Who the hell does she think she is, judging me like that? Where does she get off looking down on me when she's s obviously hooking up with Dr. Boyfriend over there. If I wanted to watch The Brady Bunch or The Young and The Restless, I'd turn on the television.

Spencer's a boy's name anyway. And I don't drive stick anymore. Girls it is. Girls and vodka and that bar on Highland and Third with the strobe lights and strippers. Because I don't need you. Or those blue eyes. Hmm, that girl has blue eyes. But that has nothing to do with this. I'm not picking her up because she reminds me of you. And I'm not going home with her because I never went home with you. I'm not grabbing fistfuls of curly, dark hair and wishing it was straight and the color of warm honey. When she takes off her clothes, I'm not pretending I don't see tatoos and piercings. And when she's working between my legs, I'm not crying out your name because I can't remember hers. Because I'm not thinking about you. I'm not.