So as always I don't own, so don't sue.

Senior Year: The Reunion

Chapter 6

Ashley's POV.

It's a bird! It's a plane! Oh, wait, it's actually just my ex-girlfriend sailing through the sky!

Yeah, I'm pretty sure I didn't expect to see that when I woke up this morning and started psyching myself up for this whole Reunion thing. I mean I knew there was a damn good chance that I would end up seeing Spencer again, but I was set to completely ignore her when that happened. I was going to be cool and aloof, maybe give her one small nod and then proceed to catch up with a few old friends while showing off my super hot actress girlfriend. It was a solid plan in my opinion.

Now...well, what am I supposed to do now?

Ugh, this is all Kyla's fault. If she weren't pregnant and emotional I'd have told her to go take a flying dive into the shallow end of a pool when she asked me to go to this stupid Reunion, but I caved as I always do with her lately. It's just she looked so...pathetic. I mean she was sitting there with her big old puppy dog eyes, her lips drawn into a slight sad pout and her hand resting unconsciously on her baby bump and she just made me feel like such an asshole for saying no.

Or it could have been the fact that I was pretty hungover and she would have nagged and nagged until my aching head exploded. Or she would have done that silent thing where she sighs every now and then and just scrapes her eating utensils on her plate, which she knows grates on my nerves and makes me cringe. So saying I would go seemed my only option.

Now I'm regretting it, like I on some level obviously new I would, and there's nothing I can do about it. I'd decided that night while I was bawling my eyes out in my shower that this Reunion could kiss my toned ass, that there was no way in hell I'd go and I should have stuck with that. Oh, I should so have stuck with that.

Not only am I now faced with probably having to make nice with the girl that pretty much decimated my heart, but I'm supposed to help my pregnant, busy getting divorced stepsister score a date with a woman she hasn't seen in a good eight years. There's just so much I'm supposed to process and I'm honestly just a slight bit boggled by it all.

I mean back when the thing happened between Kyla and Carmen I kinda assumed after a while that she didn't really feel anything for Carmen, that in the end it was maybe just her experimenting, but now I have to come to terms with the fact that Kyla's bisexual. And on top of that she's sure she's still in love with Carmen, who as I've mentioned before she hasn't seen in eight years. I think it's all the baby hormones driving her insane and I told her as much that day at lunch, but she laughed me off and threw me with a forkful of Spinach. Does that seem like the actions of a sane woman to you? So like I said, this is all Kyla with the crazy hormone's fault.

I really hope Kyla blows up like a whale in her last two months...and never loses the weight after the birth. It would serve her right, the manipulative pregnant cow!

I'm about to turn to Kyla and give her at the very least my dirtiest look, but I'm distracted by the sight of Spencer firmly planting her knee in the poor unfortunate kid she was chasing's back and for a second or two I'm just completely amazed by the change in her. The last time I saw Spencer Carlin she was just shy of twenty, her face and body a little...uhm...squishy I guess is a good way to explain it. Her hair had been darker, the lack of the L.A sun meant her natural blond streaks had faded and her skin had been paler than I'd ever seen it. She had still been beautiful thought, I distinctly remember thinking that as I was ravishing her in the back seat of my rental car on my last visit to her before she broke up with me.

It was almost surreal to think that that quiet, chubby and sweet girl was the same woman who was now slamming some kid into the hood of a car. I mean gone now was any trace of excess fat, her thighs lean in the dark navy material of her slacks, the wide, black belt around her hips accentuating her lean, flat stomach. Her arms were tanned a golden brown, clearly defined muscles working in her forearms as she pins the boy down.

I can feel my heart start to thud in my chest as warmth starts to creep up my body and I tell myself it's anger and resentment, not prepared to admit that it might be something else. Something like arousal...

"Uhm...could you maybe hold him down while I...uhm...call for someone to pick him up?"

Her voice comes out slightly raspy, slightly breathless and I shiver, but it's aversion to the sound that causes the reaction, nothing else. I watch as she steps back and the bulky guy I'm loathe to say I didn't even notice arrive in the first place, takes hold of the handcuffed kid. She turns her back to us completely and I belatedly notice her hair is once again golden blond and sun streaked.

When she turns around I can see the surprise on her face, the way she almost dramatically pales and her breath hitches rather audibly and it all stirs something in me. Something ugly and dark, and I almost smile when I finally feel the rush of justified anger wash through me like a flash flood. I can handle anger and resentment, I'm actually well accustomed with those specific feelings in regard to Spencer and I'm sure I prefer it that way.

There's a slight pause, a short period of nothing but silence as I stand there and Spencer stares at me, her familiar gray-blue eyes wide and unblinking.

"I don't love you anymore, Ashley..."

The words crept into my mind softly, but I could hear it as clearly as I did that day over the phone, could hear the exact pitch of her tone, the way her voice had slightly quivered...

"I hate what knowing you has done to my life..."

Tears had rolled down my cheeks when she'd said that and my chest had tightened so much I thought I'd never be able to breathe right again, that I'd maybe just die on that spot.

"I don't ever want to see you again..."

The words had been angry, harsh and final. I had always been expecting to hear those words from Spencer, a part of me completely sure that it was the way it was going to be from the beginning. She would break my heart, would leave me, and there was nothing I could do about it. Just like I could do nothing about my father dying or losing my baby.

Life always took the things I loved the most away from me and I had known it would be the same with Spencer, so I was devastated when she left me, but not surprised. What had been surprising was how ill equipped I was to handle it, how despite knowing I would lose her from the very start of our relationship, I was still left so unprepared for it all.

I think I got drunk and stayed that way for a good week, sitting in my father's beach house with Kyla hammering without success on my door and quietly contemplating killing myself. It was a bit mellow dramatic if I think back on it now, but I was twenty years old and so heartbroken, so hopeless and it just...hurt. It hurt to breathe and it hurt to cry, it hurt when I found an old t-shirt Spencer had left in my dresser and I sat wearing nothing but it for two days so I could remember what she smelled like.

Actually, that was pretty damn pathetic really and it just makes me angrier at the woman in front of me. She just fucked me up so badly, you know? I hate her for that!

"Wow! I mean that was just...wow. And hot, let's not forget hot, because it so was!"

Kyla's over excited voice breaks into my dark thoughts, brutally bringing me back into the now. It finally registers in my cloudy mind what she said and I'm immediately even more pissed off, 'cos she's supposed to be on my side here, not telling Spencer how freaking hot she looked tackling some guy!

Crazy fucking baby hormones!

"Uh...what?"

Spencer's got this dazed and confused look on her pale face and she's blinking real slow, like she used to do when she just woke up in the morning...and I really hate that I still remember that.

"I said that was so hot! I mean you just ran that boy down and tackled him and don't even get me started on the handcuffs! Oh Spencer, I'm pretty sure you just made my day with that."

And then Kyla's flying towards Spencer and wrapping her arms around her, squeezing her like a lemon. Spencer for her part just keeps blinking slowly, her arm coming around Kyla's waist slowly as she seems to come around a bit. I don't know what to make of the whole scene really, so I just stand off to one side and inspect my nails.

"Oh shit, ow...uhm.."

I lazily look up from my perfect cuticles to see Spencer stepping away from Kyla and cradling her arm close to her chest as she bites her bottom lip and for the first time I register that there are pebbles of sweat on Spencer's forehead and she's still deathly pale. Fuck, she's hurt herself...

"Hey, did you hurt yourself? Let me see, I did this first aid course when I found out I'm pregnant and stuff, because you know how kids are..."

Kyla's babbling on and I think it's more to distract Spencer than anything else as she takes a hold of her elbow and eases her arm out straight. It's started to swell around her wrist and she gasps as Kyla's fingers drift butterfly soft over the area.

"I landed funny again and I think I broke it. I mean I didn't exactly hear a snapping sound or anything, but...Hey, you're pregnant?"

Spencer eyes Kyla's belly and then she's curling her hand around the slightly swollen bump, her face going all soft and dreamy. It's the look your mother gets whenever she sees a pregnant woman or baby, that almost wistful emotion that flashes in her eyes. I hate when my mom gets that look, because inevitably it leads to the question as to whether or not I'm planning on settling down and having, as she so eloquently puts it, one of those turkey baster babies.

I figure at least she's okay with the whole lesbian for a daughter deal. Ha, bet she's gonna blow her top thought when she hears about Kyla's little bisexual epiphany. I know Kyla's dad is going to probably keel over from a heart attack, 'cos he just loves Andre.

"Yeah, I'm just over six months...and I do think it looks kinda broken. We should get you to the hospital and fast."

Finally I feel the need to speak up, because there's no way I'm getting sucked back into Spencer Carlin's life.

"We? I'm pretty sure the nice security guards over there can call an ambulance for...her. Besides, I'm late already for that speech thing you talked me into, remember?"

It's true, there are probably four or five geeky Audio/Visual club kids waiting in some classroom for me to come give them some bullshit speech about film making. Trust me, that was not my bright spark idea, I would have much preferred to just show up at the stupid Prom Redux thing they're doing and call it a day, but Kyla obviously had a different idea.

I sigh in relief when the beefy guy that had showed up just after Spencer steps up to us and hesitantly comes to Spencer's side.

"Detective Carlin, security's taking Eddie to the principles office until the police...uhm...other police come to pick him up. I can take you to the nurses office and we can call an ambulance for you, or I could take you if you'd like. I drive really fast."

The guy blushes the minute the last words leave his mouth and I can't help rolling my eyes, because is he seriously trying to impress her while she's standing there with a probably broken wrist?

I guess Kyla's thinking the same thing, because she actually shoos the big, burly guy away, making sure to give him the evil eye as she catches him staring at Spencer's slightly heaving chest a little too long.

"Don't worry about it, Bucko, we'll take care of the good officer. We're old friends after all, aren't we Spence?"

Spencer for her part looks a little wobbly at this point and I can see she's basically clinging to Kyla's slightly smaller frame with her good arm. That's when I feel the tug in my chest, just the smallest smidgen of sympathy uncoiling itself and I roll my eyes as I try to will it away.

Spencer doesn't deserve my sympathy, not after the amount of pain she carelessly caused me.

"Yeah, sure...great old friends, really." And she means those words, I can tell by the way she looks at Kyla and smiles, affection plain to see on her face. Then she frowns. "You know, I'm pretty sure I'm going to pass out now. I mean the adrenalin is kinda wearing off and I've never really had a high tolerance for pain..."

Kyla turns big brown eyes toward me, her lips already starting to pout slightly and I know I'm screwed, because how do you say no to a face like that? Especially when it's attached to such an obviously pregnant body. Nobody's that much of a bitch, not even me.

"Then we should probably hurry, I'm sure we can make it in no more than ten minutes or so." I want to turn and just start walking, but there's this stupid feeling in my chest that makes me look Spencer in the eye. "Think you'll make it that long?"

I hate that it sounds like I care, but I tell myself it's just 'cos I'm worried she'll trow up in my car or something before we get to the hospital. I mean the car did cost me a million or so dollars, it's not exactly small change. And fine, I'm still not that good with puking in general, it makes me kinda nauseas just thinking about it.

"Yeah, I'll make it."

Then suddenly we're moving, Kyla holding an arm around Spencer as I walk ahead to open the car door so long. Every step I take my heart hammers in my chest a little harder and my stomach does this twisting thing, but I ignore it as I've done every time over the last few years when thinking about Spencer Carlin has made me feel exactly the same way. I wish for a drink then, a good shot of whiskey or brandy, anything that will ease the tension in my stomach and just help me forget. I wish for it so hard I actually close my eyes for a second and cross my fingers, really and truly wishing for it with my whole being.

The only thing I see when I open my eyes is my car though and that's when it hits me. It just occurs to me that my car is a two seater. As in does not take more than one passenger at a time. Which means...

Fuck and shit.

"Uhm, my car is a two seater, so I can only take one of you."

Spencer's good hand shoots up into the air and she reminds me of a preschooler sticking his hand up in the air in class and shouting 'Me, me, pick me!'.

Kyla looks from me to Spencer and shakes her head, a sneaky smile blooming on her face.

"Well, guess I'll just call a cab and meet you guys at the hospital in a little while, okay? Now get in the car and get moving!"

Without a word Spencer gets into the passenger side and I slam the door shut, not at all impressed that I'm going to be stuck in a car alone with her. This just bites. I didn't sign up for this shit when I agreed to go to this stupid Reunion!

So without a further word I get in and start the engine, enjoying as always the aggressive roar of the engine as I basically gun it out of the school parking lot. I ignore Spencer completely, my eyes on the road as I go far above the speed limit, but when I'm forced to stop at a red light I can't help myself really.

I look over and find her staring at me, her eyes more gray than blue and suddenly my heart is pounding a hundred miles an hour again, because her good hand covers my own that's resting on the gear lever.

"Thanks for doing this."

Her voice is soft and barely audible over the rumble of the engine, but I feel it tingling all the way down my spine. Each syllable gently tickling a nerve ending and I shudder lightly at the feeling, my eyes closing tightly when she squeezes my hand and heat explodes from that one point of contact.

God in heaven, she can't still be doing this to me, she just can't.

We sit like that in silence, her hand on my own as her thumb slowly caresses my knuckles and my eyes tightly closed, the only thing to be heard in the suddenly confined space of my car is her soft breathing. I finally look at her, take in the mouth I've kissed a thousand times before, the eyes I used to want to write songs about, down to the hand that used to touch me so delicately. That's when it finally hits me.

This is Spencer Carlin in the flesh. Spencer, my first love, my first heartbreak. The first girl I ever touched and the first to touch me, the girl who held me as I cried for my dead baby and made me laugh by doing impressions of her mother's face when she caught us having sex. She was my everything for more than two years, my whole life really.

A part of me wants to pretend that it's ten years ago, that we're just driving to lunch together and that she still loves me, that she never hurt me and left me. That Spencer Carlin was still my girl and all was well with the world.

Then my phone rings and whatever spell had spun itself around us is broken as I shrug Spencer's hand from my own. I pick up my phone and check the display.

Patrice.

I glance at Spencer as I answer the phone, my voice loud and clear when I speak.

"Hey, Babe, what's up? Didn't you get enough of me last night?"

I watch with a warped sense of satisfaction as Spencer's eyes lower from my own and she turns away, facing the door and getting lost in the view out the window, her shoulders sagging a little.

That dark and angry place inside of me is profoundly happy to see that Spencer seems to be hurting on some level too. That seeing me again for the first time in eight years is affecting her as well and that maybe, just maybe, she's feeling at least a tenth of the pain that she caused me.

So I grin and gun the engine when the light finally changes, cutting my phone call short and head towards the hospital.

But for some reason I keep feeling the burn of Spencer's skin on my hand and no matter how many times I flex my fingers on top of that gear lever, I can't shake that tingling sensation...

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