Should I post a pointlessly long note before this chapter? Yes? Good.
Okay, I was having major issues with how to do this - this, being putting the kiss scene into Spencer's pov - I was thinking about having the last scene of the first chapter just as Ashley coming to her house and then going straight on to chapter two, starting with the lipgloss/lip-lockage scene from Ashley's pov.
But, I didn't want a bunch of angry Spashley fans hunting me down - although, that is kind of hot... - anyway (!), the long and short of it is, the final scene of the season (the kiss scene) is in this update, in Spencer's pov. I'm sure people are going to be disapointed with it, but, meh, it was the best I could do.
Plus, I know that I keep making Spencer swear, which I am aware is out of character, but, meh.
As, always thanks for the feedback and I'm going to start on chapter two soon.
I thought it was hard being Ashley's friend, just her friend. And it was. But not even being Ashley's friend was at least a thousand times harder. Granted it had only been a little less than a day – twenty two hours, nineteen minutes and eight seconds (although, it's not like I've been counting or anything), roughly – but I feel like I'm going mad.
It's completely different to when we had a falling out over Josie or whatever her name was – because even though I was missing Ashley, I was pissed as hell at her. Only this time, I know that it's my own fault. I asked Ashley to choose between a relationship and nothing – I just wasn't expecting that she'd choose the latter. But she did, and I had been avoiding her all day at school because of it. I know it is an extreme, but I had said all or nothing and I had mean all or nothing. Even if it killed me, which it undoubtedly will.
High school is a lonely enough place as it is, but when you've been dumped by your best friend and the only other person you've really gotten to know has more ties with the aforementioned former best friend, well, you're fucked. And very lonely. More so than when you first started at the new school and knew no one.
And so, I was alone, bar my thoughts.
And – annoyingly – that really gave me time to reflect. I reflected on the crumbing mess that was my parents' marriage, I reflected on Glen being a total nobhead, and I reflected on the cheerbitches and how under ever so slightly different circumstances I could have been one of them, really one of them. I reflected on so much, that I began to hate the word "reflect", then I started to get pissed off at the English language for coming up with such a word that would so easily bug me.
Needless to say, I wasn't really angry at the English language – I was really angry with myself, and Ashley, of course. I was so angry that she "dumped" me, I was fuming because she felt like she couldn't open up to me – at least that's why I think she opted out of the "more than friends" part of my little ultimatum. I started to doubt her feelings for me – and if they really were just feelings of friendship, and if I was reading too much into things.
I thought and reflected so much it made my head hurt.
And I still felt lonely – in fact, more so.
Glen's out, Clay's out and mum's at work, leaving me and dad alone at home together. We're not really communicating much, we're just sort of breathing in the same air – neither of us sure what to say to the other.
"I want you and mum to be okay." Even though I hate her.
I think I want them to be okay, I mean divorce would really screw the family up – well, more so – I don't want them divorced. I just want things back the way they were.
"I know you do, so do I, but your mum and I might need to take a little break from each other," they're getting a divorce; I want to live with dad, "get things back on track."
"You mean splitting up." Wait, "How does that get things back on track?" Don't tell me, absence makes the heart grow fonder? Am I right? Well I do really miss Ash and… no! Damnit! Don't think about her, you're parents are most likely going to end up divorced, focus on that.
"Maybe we'll remember why we got together in the first place." What if they don't remember? And they think that they're better off without each other? I mean, I haven't really seen much love between them recently. "Figure it out." Yup, I'll start searching for a good "marital difficulty" lawyer. "How about you; you okay?"
I miss Ashley. A lot. Too much – it's only been twenty-two hours, twenty four minutes and about fifty-one seconds. I want to see her, I want to talk to her, this is bad, really bad. Fuck, I'm obsessed with her. "I don't know." No, screw that, I'm not okay; I'm in love. And that's really not okay.
"Spencer," I look up at him, no longer scared that my eyes will reveal what I'm thinking or feeling, because I can hear the love in his voice, and I know he wont judge me, "you're my daughter, I love you so very," yup, no judgment there. Why cant mum be more like him? "Very much, no matter who you are." I can't help but smile from gaining his acceptance. But, jeez, does everyone know I'm gay? Like they knew even before I knew?
I wrap my arms around him and snuggle into his embrace – just like I did when I was a child. Internally nodding, yeah, definitely going to live with him instead of mum.
And then the doorbell rings, and I'm confused.
"You expecting someone?" I softly shake my head as I let go of him – my favourite parent. He shoots me a reassuring smile and goes to answer the door.
Ashley. Did I just say that, or think that? Whatever, it's Ashley.
"Hey Ashley." I think he know's how I feel about her.
This is either going to be really good, or really bad – I'm hoping it's the former.
"It's good to see you Ashley." Oh yeah, he know's.
"Nice to see you too, Mr. C."
Ashley is expecting me to say something, I don't. I just turn around and walk into the sitting room, I can feel her following after me.
Letting out a shaky breath I sit down in front of her, "So?" please don't break my heart, please don't break my heart…
"So, I'm sorry," please don't break my heart…"for the come here, go away trip I've been putting you through." I can see the sincerity in her eyes.
I love her eyes, I often feel like I'm drowning in them – when I was younger, about five (and I couldn't swim), I went into a swimming pool, into the deep end, and as I couldn't swim I started to sink and to drown. It was one of the most unpleasant experiences of my life.
But as I sit here looking into her eyes, I can't think of a better way to die, or even to live than by drowning in her eyes. But she's sitting in front of me and I think I need to start talking back, "Okay, why would you do that?" Because it screwed with my head and my heart. A lot.
"Because I want you," And I think I just melted, "and I don't want to hurt you." Thank you and goodnight.
"I can take care of myself." I can see her mind working, but I can't tell what she's feeling, but she doesn't seem to like my answer. But I'm not done yet, "And with some let over to take care of you." I can see the corners of her mouth turn up and almost feel the warmth radiating from her smile – it's mirroring the one I'm currently sporting. I can see the smile shining though her eyes and my heart gives a pleasant little squeeze.
But I mean it, I would be willing to devote my life to her, to spend each day looking after her, just making sure she was happy, healthy and safe. And that has nothing to do with the way I seem to be obsessed with her – it's because in the short space of time I've known her, I've fallen completely head over heels in love with Ashley.
"Come to my place tonight, mum's gona be in La Costa for a couple of days." I hate Ashley's mum for being so negligent.
I smile and nod a little, "Okay." We're both grinning, but I can already start to feel a knot of nervousness starting to build in my stomach.
We didn't talk in the car ride over; we just sat in a contented silence. The radio was on, but I wasn't paying it any attention. I was scared, and excited, and nervous and… well you get the picture, my emotions were going mad. I barely even noticed as we pulled up in front of Ashley's house. Correction – Ashley's mansion. My mind didn't seem to register Ashley's hand on my wrist pulling me through the front door, or up the stairs. But as soon we reached Ashley's bedroom door, my brain started to work once more and I felt like I was going to vomit – in the good way.
Her hand slipped into my own and my skin started to tingle underneath her warm fingertips. Her bedroom decor behind her became indistinct shapes as we made it over to the couch almost central in the room.
Our hands separated and one of hers' made its way to the back of my head, her palm sweeping over my cheek in the process – a gesture that I remembered from the last time she had tried to kiss me – pulling me closer to her.
Her lips found mine, and everything after that was a delirious blur.
End of chapter one.