iv
She is waiting for me after classes, by my locker. I know she is hurt and confused and probably angered by my avoidance, but I still can't help but revel in the hot rush of… of something nice every time I see her.
She is leaning against my locker with her head tilted down and she looks at me from below furrowed brows. This is her "I'm really trying to understand you" face. Usually I am happy to see her like that – happy that she cares enough to try – but she has gotten too good at reading me and now it makes me nervous. A nervous Ashley gets self-defensive.
"Spencerella! To what do I owe the stalking?"
"Ash, that's not funny." And it's not, but I'm on a roll. If I talk fast enough and loud enough I might be able to talk my way through… whatever this is and get away and go home. To hide. And think.
"Aww, come on, Spence, with a long face like that, people are bound to think we had a lover's spat, or something."
I have perfected these little zingers over the years – just enough verbal bluster to throw them off and slip away – but it only works if I can walk away before they can respond to me, cashing in on my advantage. And she is still leaning against my locker and looking at me and so I have to stay there with my too big smile and my "nothing's wrong" eyes. This is the Plastic Ashley, the nod and smile version of me in full-on self-defense mode and I haven't used her with Spencer since… Kelly. It's what I do when I need to keep above the emotional fray - just a little botox for my heart. How well I have learned, mother.
She looks at me, that Spencer look again, and I bear it vapidly and then she drops her head and shakes it and I can already anticipate the frustration and disappointment I'll see when she looks at me again. You are not the first, Spence, to feel that way about me.
Instead, I am shaken when she pushes off the locker and takes a step forward, nothing but concern in her eyes.
"Ash… Please tell me what's wrong?" her hand slides down my arm in a caress, in encouragement, and when it reaches my hand, our pinkies entangle and stay connected.
One touch. One question. I am nearly undone. I open my mouth – I want to tell her everything – that I am scared and lost and no good, and that she will hurt me or I will hurt her and that I can't sleep at night and-
"Hey, it's my two favorite ex-straight girls! How are you, ladies?"
It's such perfectly wrong timing that an incredulous laugh escapes me before I can help myself. Aiden.
Spencer is not quite as amused. "You've got to be shitting me!" That is, at most, the third time I have ever heard her swear. Aiden, of course, striding towards us and waiving, is oblivious to the little scene he just broke up.
"Ash-," she says, but Aiden is nearly here, and the moment is gone and, frankly, I am relieved at the interruption.
Then he is here, giving us both the one-armed clinch around the neck that's a sign of boy-affection and I am truly happy he showed up.
"You two are going to be the sole beneficiaries of free drinks on me tonight. We are going to Gray's and we are going to be par-tay-ing!
He is still holding us and our faces are near, and I know she is also remembering the last time the three of us were in this position, and I glance at her lips and see her nostrils flare in response, and – and then I roll my eyes at her and mouth "He is SO gay". It is good to hear her laugh.
We disengage and Aiden looks back and forth between us, thrumming with giddiness.
"Aiden," she is shaking her head and squinting up at him, amused. "It's Monday. We just finished the first day of classes – isn't it a bit too early in the week to be partying?"
Aiden and I share an indulgent glance at this. She has come a long way in the past few months and I'm truly in love with the girl, but she is such a Brady someti- I stop. I try to replay the last thought, but my mind skitters away from it. All of a sudden my heart feels like it wants to thump its way out of my chest and onto the gum-encrusted pavement before us.
Aiden is saying something about finally being approached to play ball in college, and Spencer is making excited noises in response to that, and then there's silence and they are both looking at me.
"What!" It comes out sharp, too sharp, and I start a little mantra in my head – calmdown, calmdown, calmdown…
"I said – whaddaya say, Ash? Three of us? Celebrate?"
I glance at him and stretch my lips into a smile. Put it on automatic, Ash. "Sure, I'm in. Just us Three Musketqueers!"
He smiles. "Cool!" Then he frowns and blinks, as it registers. "Hey… what do you mean-
I go for my opening. "Aid, can you drop Spence off at home, please – I just remembered I have something to do, thanks! I'll call you two later to make plans!" and then I'm walking away and I think I can feel her staring at my back, bewildered, and maybe I do, the feeling is that strong, and when I turn the corner, I run, but I don't know from whom. And I don't know towards what.