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emilyscott101: Alright, alright. Here's the next chapter.

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MistyRiver17: I'm sorry to report that I won't do much with the twist. I just threw it in there for good measure.

Author's Notes

This chapter was really difficult to write. That's why it took so long to get up.

This chapter's dedicated to Kristin. You'll be alright.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. The only one I own is Dr. Courtney Thomas. Everyone else belongs to Tom Lynch, the creator of South Of Nowhere.

We're Finally Here

Chapter 7

By Persephone's Nautical Nun

"

"What are we going to do about Madison?" I asked Ashley as she pulled up in my driveway after school.

"What do you mean, Spence? I mean, there's nothing to do."

I guess," I said, looking down at my hands.

"Wait a minute. You don't think I'm interested in her, do you?"

My eyes stayed fixed on my hands. "Weren't you the one who said that girls can still dump you for the pretty cheerleader?"

I saw her throw her hands in the air out of the corner of my eye. "I didn't mean me! I mean, seriously, Madison?"

I shrugged. It was all I could think of doing. "Hey," she said, placing her hand under my chin, bringing my face up to look at her. "I'm not going anywhere. Spencer, no one could compete with you."

Her lips turned up into a small smile, and I found myself taking her hand in my own and kissing her palm before lacing our fingers. "I love you." There. I said it again. It was actually getting easier to say, because I knew more than anything else that it was true.

"I love you, too," she said, simply.

We kissed each other goodbye for the day and I left her, going into my house.

As soon as I walked in the door, I felt like something wasn't right. I felt like running back outside, hopping in Ashley's car, and driving far away. But, I couldn't do that. She had already left. I moved into the living room and found Mom and Dad sitting on separate couches. They looked like they had been having a pretty heated argument. I had a feeling it was about me. Everything was about me, lately.

"Spencer, sit down," my mom said.

I did as I was told, sitting next to my dad, assuming he'd help me out in the upcoming battle.

"You and Ashley have been getting closer," she said, as if stating a fact from a text book.

I wasn't sure how to proceed from here. "Okay."

"Paula..." my father warned. What was going on here?

She disregarded him and kept talking. "I don't want you hanging out with Ashley anymore. She's not allowed over at the house anymore, phone calls are prohibited..."

"Paula, do you really think that's necessary?" my father spoke up. "They're teenagers..."

But, I wasn't listening anymore. The only thing I could think about was the fact that I wasn't allowed to see Ashley anymore.

My body moved of its own accord. Suddenly, I was standing up and going up the stairs, shutting myself in the bathroom. I stared at myself in the mirror, and I felt like I didn't know the person looking back at me. This wasn't my life. My parents loved me, they never fought. Glen wasn't an asshole, and Clay didn't have to deal with the race issues in LA. Most importantly, I wasn't gay. I never met Ashley. I was still the same Spencer that cried after losing my virginity.

Then I hear my parents yelling at each other downstairs, and I'm snapped back to the reality that faced me. My life has changed. I've changed. I was happy with Ashley. I loved her. And, damn it, I didn't cry.

These things I would hold onto. Because they were all I had left.

The yelling downstairs grew louder, pounding into my ears. This was all my fault. If I hadn't been gay...

I saw myself holding a pink, disposable razor. My hands were fumbling to break it. When I couldn't break it with my hands, I slipped part of it between my teeth and tugged on the other end. I heard a loud snap as I felt the plastic break. I caught the blade in my hand and noticed that there was blood on it.

I looked back up to my reflection. There was a line of blood dripping down my chin, onto the white tile below. When I broke the razor, the blade must have slipped and sliced my lip. With a closer look, I realized that it cut me right where my scar was.

Funny. I didn't feel any pain.

I slumped against the wall, suddenly feeling very weak, and slid down until I was sure I looked like a puddle on the floor. I gazed absentmindedly at the metal between my fingers. I wasn't quite sure what I was doing with it. I drug it lightly across my arm, my skin tingling where the metal grazed it.

Without another thought, I dug the blade into my skin. Pulling the thin strip of metal away, I watched the blood bubble up to the surface. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. It made my head throb with every beat.

The blood finally spilled over, leaving a red trail down my arm. All sound came rushing back to my ears. Clay was pounding on the door, asking me if I was alright. He finally just came in. He looked shocked for a split second before running to me, pressing his hand against my arm, and taking the razor away from me.

He gathered a towel and pressed it against my arm, wrapping me in a hug.

My brother and I stayed that way all night. He gently rocked me while telling me it would be alright.