Right, so I know I said I was slamming on the brakes with both the couples, but...uhm...brakes are for sissies. I like speeding down a hill without brakes, it's fun, so yeah, the brakes aren't exactly applied here anymore! Lol. I suck at actually following the structure I set out for this fic in the beginning, but my muse spoke. Well, she mostly threatened with blunt force trauma to the head, so I folded to her will for safety's sake.

To those who have read and reviewed, know you put a smile on my face with all the encouragement. I never wanted to imply that I was thinking of removing the story though, I simply meant to say that despite a loss of about 200 hundred or so readers according to my story stats, I was still writing stuff that I was sure some people wouldn't exactly enjoy. Anyway, a few of you are sticking it out with me and that's the important thing, right?

Oh and if anyone cares, this whole chapter was inspired by the lyrics of Annie, let's not wait by Guillemots. Pretty great song really.

Senior Year: The Reunion

Chapter 11: Let's cross the river now.

Carmen's point of view.

i found something dying; it was my light
it had resigned itself to night
so i threw it out a fishing line
and said catch your will and then catch mine

- Guillemots (Annie let's not wait)

"It's not gut clenching, breath stealing, lightning bolts and thunder crashing, all encompassing, drives you up the wall with craziness, passionate love."

I said that to Kyla Woods, or whatever the hell her surname is now, in that hospital cafeteria and then proceeded to explain how I don't believe it exists, or that I don't think it's anything but fleeting at best. Yet here I am, having my third cold shower in the last sixteen hours, because I'm over run with all these passionate, driving me up the wall with craziness, feelings.

Okay look, it's not just physical what I'm feeling here, despite the almost constant need for cold showers. I just...I can't remember the last time my heart rate picked up that much just because I looked into someone's eyes and felt over run with emotion, or how there was this strange zinging in my ears when Kyla stepped closer to me when we were arguing and I couldn't hear anything but her voice above it all.

There was gut clenching and there was breath stealing, and hell yes I heard thunder and saw lighting bolts, but God knows my freaking soul went quiet when she kissed me. There was a stillness inside me, a feeling of such safety and rightness that it left me quivering and as absurd as it sounds, scared afterwards.

That's why I ran away, that's why I acted like the coward she accused me of being, because I realized in that moment that it's a loosing battle, isn't it? If she wants me, she'll have me. Simple as that, because how does one fight their own heart? I tried eight years ago in a hospital room and I thought I succeeded, thought I'd done the right thing for both of us and sent her on her way, but here she is again, asking the same thing from me. I don't think I can send her away this time, don't think I want to if I'm brutally honest with myself.

Eight years ago I did it and survived, because it was the right thing to do. I was in no condition to have her in my life, there was no way we would have made it if I'd grabbed hold of her that night and gave in to her begging. Somehow I just know that, I don't know why, but it's what my gut told me then.

I needed time to fix myself, to get past what had happened to me and what it meant for my life and in the end I wouldn't have been able to do that if I was also trying to fix things with Kyla too. So I made a selfish, yet very necessary, decision and pushed her away. It helped that I was still pissed off at her I suppose. It did make it easier for me in the end, gave me a few reasons to justify my actions afterwards.

Now I don't have that excuse, do I? She's back and I don't have one good reason to say no anymore, because we're even now, we've both hurt the other in an attempt to protect ourselves. She did it way back in high school when she chose to be with Aiden instead of me and I did it that night in the hospital. So like I said, it's inevitable now. She's not afraid anymore, a fact made clear by her jumping me in a public cafeteria, and I've long since come to terms with what happened to me when I was raped.

Hell, the fact that she could kiss me like she did is proof of that! For a long time after the rape, I obviously had issues with sex. Actually, I had issues with any kind of intimacy really. I couldn't even hug someone for the longest time. There was anxiety when someone just stood too close to me in an elevator, or if a stranger accidentally bumped into me on the street.

Sex didn't even come into the equation for another two years. I know it sounds long, sounds ridiculous that it took me years to get to that point, but that's how it was for me. Things with me and Michelle had ended not long before the rape happened and afterwards, it took me so long to find someone that I was comfortable with. Dani and I met in a coffee shop and right from the beginning things were easy between us.

She was this tiny little thing, with a smile so harmless and sweet that I couldn't help but return it when she threw it my way. We dated for almost six months before we took the next step and things were good for a while. Sex between us was always cautious, always soft and slow and she was absolutely ready to stop if I needed to, and that happened a few times, but then she got tired of the fact that I couldn't let her hold me afterwards. She got tired that she could never just walk up behind me and throw her arms around me without it almost giving me a panic attack.

The fact that I couldn't trust her was so clear to her and it broke her heart in the end. She knew it was because I didn't love her, not in the way she wanted me to anyway. Almost the same thing happened with my next girlfriend, and the one after that and the one after that.

Point is I could have sex, could enjoy it as much as the next woman, as long as things never became too passionate, as long as no one ever fully lost control and that was okay with me. There was no passionate ripping of clothes, no being slammed up against walls. I was incapable of trusting someone to do that with, could never completely push the memory of being held down and forced out of my mind. The shrink said that was to be expected, that maybe it would always be that way for me and I made my peace with it.

Yet when Kyla kissed me? When she grabbed me with desperate hands and pulled me so tightly against her I could feel every inch of her touch every inch of me? When she touched me almost a little roughly, when she kissed me firmly and hungrily?

I felt nothing but desire. There was no fear, no panic, no cloying claustrophobia of having someone pressed up against me, no shot of adrenalin that woke my flight or fight instincts. For the first time in years, I could just stand there and kiss someone with passion, with no memories of the night I was raped flashing in my mind.

That's probably why I got the hell out of there so fast, because that realization scared the bejesus out of me. My body trusted her so blindly, let me be completely vulnerable with her so easily and after years of being nothing but cautious and careful, it shook me. I never thought I'd be able to experience complete abandon again, yet I experienced just that in Kyla's arms.

I disproved my own statement that friendship and comfort, and the sense of safety it provided, was what made a lasting relationship, because what I felt in Kyla's arms? That was exactly what I felt ten years ago. It was explosive and passionate, it was vibrant and beautiful, yet it still managed to be warm and secure, because there was love and trust between us. The rape had not managed to touch it, or taint it, or take that away from me in anyway.

I had simply not realized that until she kissed me. Now I know and I've had a few hours to work through the fear and maybe accept that I'm ready to be with her now. I mean not her betrayal, not my rape, not even ten years, has managed to change what both she and I obviously feel, so why not give it a shot?

Don't I owe it to myself, to Kyla even? Besides, I'm pretty sure I can't keep taking cold showers for much longer or I might freeze my unmentionables off. It would seem wiser to just let her have her way with me and my unmentionables, then I don't get stuck with a huge as fuck water bill or end up going to a hospital for...nipple defrosting? Would my health insurance even cover that?

See, both medically and financially speaking, my best option is to just not fight it and let Kyla take care of my frustrations. In the end everyone will be happy, a win win situation if I ever saw one, right?

Yup, jury's convinced. I do make a mean closing argument if I do say so myself.

Now to figure out what I'm supposed to wear to the Reunion thing tonight, I mean it's not like I was planning on going, but now I am and I've got a hot, despite the whole pregnant thing, date as well. At least I've got a few good hours still to figure that out. Might even try to get an appointment with my hair stylist and then get a quick wax...

By the time I'm dressed and settling on my bed with phone in hand, operation sexy-myself-up almost in full swing, I hear a knock on my door. Julie screams oh so helpfully that there's someone at the door and I bite my lip to keep from cursing. The kid's probably in front of the tv, not more then a few feet from the front door, but she won't open it herself.

"Yeah, okay, hold your horses, I'll get it now!"

I don't bother to check who it is, because chances are good it's just Glen dropping by. He's almost a fixture in the house on a Saturday, either fixing whatever the hell broke in Spencer's car this week, or sipping beer with me on the front steps where we rate the hotness of the few female neighbors I have. What? I'm completely comfortable with sitting at a distance and enjoying what's on display.

Yet when I swing open the front door it's not Glen's pasty white ass on my front porch with a six pack in his hand.

"Ashley? What the hell are you doing here?"

Immediately I'm pissed off, my blood pressure rising again as I remember Spencer's face when she left earlier to go on her run. I asked her not to go, knowing that she was going to be in a crap load of pain because of her wrist. Obviously she didn't listen, which I completely blame the woman swaying in front of me for.

Goddamn Ashley Davies and her issues.

"I'm here to see Spencer."

The fuck she is. I can see it on her face, the anger and confusion, and I know it's all directed towards one person. She's not here because she wants to see Spencer, she's here because she wants to unload that anger onto someone else. She wants an emotional punching bag and it happens to be in the shape of my best friend.

"Right, because the two of you parted on such good terms that you're what? Dropping by for a breakfast coffee? She told me what happened at the hospital and honestly, if you're here to make her feel any worse than she already does you can just fuck the hell off."

After that it's on. She's pissed off, I'm pissed off...it's not pretty in the end. What I don't expect to happen is that I end up sitting on the front steps and telling her about that night. I don't say much, I don't give her any of the details, but I tell her what she needs to know. I tell her about what led to that night, about Spencer and how much her life must have sucked. I want her to see how Spencer wasn't the only one who made mistakes, that while she did her share, Ashley fucked up too. She failed Spencer, just like I did, just like her family did.

We all ignored what was right in front of our eyes. We were all too busy to see how bad things had got for Spencer in school and after she broke up with Ashley we should have seen it. But no one did and Spencer ended up making herself pay for everything that happened afterwards. No one's perfect in this story, no one can claim to be the victim, not when we all played our part in how things played out.

"It devastated her. It just...it fucked her up beyond belief that she'd really lost you. It was what broke the camel's back if you will. That night she dragged me out and we hit a party or three. That night Clay had to come pick us up when she got so drunk she couldn't stand up straight. That night I got raped and her brother got killed, and she's never forgiven herself for that. So yeah, Spencer wasn't perfect back then, but she's payed a bigger price for it than she deserved."

If anything, Spencer is the one most wronged in our screwed up little story. She was the one that was lost, she was the one that was in pain, and in the end she still took all the responsibility onto herself for what happened. She never blamed me, despite Clay staying behind to help me while we both got Spencer to run. If he had left with Spencer that night, he'd be alive today.

That's something I have to live with for the rest of my life. I'm alive only because Clay Carlin gave up his life for me. He mostly bled out not more than two feet from me, his blood eventually touching the side of my face as I watched him while some kid, some sick fucking kid, raped me.

When the kid finished, when he came inside of me and laughed so hard, raising his knife to my throat, it was Clay Carlin, weak with blood loss and ashen faced, that lurched one last time and knocked the knife from his hands. Seconds later, seconds that he could have slit my throat in if Clay hadn't intervened, we all heard the sound of sirens.

Spencer had found help, but it was too late for Clay at that point. He breathed his last breath against the side of my face, his bloodied hand in my own, his eyes turning to stare straight up at the sky. I pray to God each night that he was looking up at heaven, that while his body slumped and his heart stopped completely, his soul was already on it's way there.

I was never one much for religion, but for Clay Carlin's sake, I want to believe there is a God and that there is a heaven and that the bravest boy I ever met is there right now.

When I stand, I have to fight the urge to clear my throat and brush tears from my eyes, the memory of that night suddenly so fresh in my mind's eye that I have trouble putting one foot in front of the other without falling over. For a second or two, I can actually smell the coppery scent of blood around me again...

"She went for a run, but she'll be back in a little while. I would invite you in to wait, but I honestly don't want your drunk ass around my family, so the steps will have to do." Then I turn away, not able to look into her face without betraying how weak I feel right now, how everything inside of me is quivering painfully. "Don't hurt her. If you do, you'll answer to me."

I can never repay Clay for what he did for me, what he sacrificed, but I can protect and love his sister as much as he did. I owe him that small favor, even if he never asked it of me.

So with that warning, I walk back inside. I walk away from the regret and sadness I can see washing over Ashley's face and hope that I've opened her eyes enough to see what really happened all those years ago. I hope she can maybe finally give Spencer a little peace, maybe ease one of the heavy burdens she carries so willingly.

When I walk into the lounge the tv is blaring loudly and Julie is sitting with Tommy in her lap, his dark head nestled into her shoulder and I can't help but smile at the way she holds him tightly, securely. As difficult as Julie is, she's a good kid. She loves her brother and Tommy loves her too, his little eyes shinning up at her so sweetly and innocently with nothing but trust and love in them.

It gives me hope for a world I should have given up on long ago. It gives me hope that the woman out on my front porch, with her sadness and her anger, will maybe be okay, will maybe make things okay for Spencer. It's a faint hope, but it's there and it's all I have, because I could never give to Spencer what she really needs to be whole again.

That's all on Ashley's shoulders and I can only believe she'll be smart enough and strong enough to let Spencer have it...

Twenty minutes later I'm spying like a nosy neighbor through a crack in the curtain, my nose plastered against the window pane to get a good look at the two woman embracing on my doorstep. Not that I'm doing it because I'm curios, or because I'm getting a kick out of it, but because I'm fully prepared to storm out there and kick Ashley Davies' ass if there's a need to. I don't make idle threats and I meant it when I warned Ashley not to hurt Spencer.

Though what's happening on the porch looks more like a mutual pain party, like the two woman out there are holding onto each other because they're not strong enough to stand on their own two feet. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing, but I can't add to that by going out there and making a scene, demanding answers. I can only do what I think is best for Spencer and when I get a glimpse of her face, of the tears blatantly running down her cheeks, I know that kicking Ashley's ass right now isn't it.

So I straighten up and pull the door open, lay my hand gently on Ashley's shoulder and steer them into the house. Spencer's still clinging to the woman, her body shaking minutely, but the movement eventually pulls her out of her daze.

When she meets my eyes, there's such raw pain in them that my own chest aches in sympathy. When she nods, I can only drop my eyes down and let her lead Ashley up the stairs, feeling powerless to make this any better for her. I don't think I've achieved anything by telling Ashley everything I did, maybe only gave the woman a new, twisted way to hurt Spencer anew.

Because nothing I saw just now tells me that they've really worked anything out, they both just look a little shattered. Spencer mostly so though and at the moment I don't have anyone to blame for that but Ashley. She was supposed to make things right, God dammit! She was supposed to fix that sad look, not intensify it.

I'm so angry I can feel it burning in the pit of my stomach, mixing with the disappointment that was already heavily resting there. It turns my stomach, twists my gut and makes me shudder with its potency. I feel so helpless I can scream, or tear my hair out or something equally as stupid and pointless as that. It's a feeling I hate, it's a feeling that reminds me too much of being held down and violated, of being weak and unable to fight, to protect myself.

Only this time I'm unable to help Spencer, helpless to stop her hurt.

I wait maybe five minutes before I head up to her room, but I don't hesitate when I push it open slightly. I see all I need to see, Ashley apparently fast asleep while Spencer is just crying quietly, her face tilted up to the ceiling, her eyes pointed towards the heavens. It so startlingly reminds me of Clay lying on the ground, his face angled in exactly the same way as Spencer's is right now, that I stumble back. I'm down the stairs and out the door, dragging deep breaths of air back into my lungs, trying to calm my heartbeat. I need to do something, anything at this point really, or I'll go insane.

So when I spot a small black clutch bag left on the front step, I stalk over and pick it up, knowing it must be Ashley's that she left there. I don't really give a shit that I'm violating her privacy when I rip it open, when I pull out the slim, expensive phone. I just know that I'm done feeling helpless today.

I find the number easily enough and wait rather impatiently for the call to be answered. When it is, I completely ignore the slight jerk my heart gives when I hear her voice.

"Hey, Ash, how did it go with..."

I can't hear her voice, not now, not when I'm awash with old memories and trapped in a place where I'm incapable of protecting myself, when I'm weak and open and so easily hurt. So I cut her off briskly.

"Not Ashley, and the reason it's not Ashley is that she's currently passed out in Spencer's bed, drunk as a skunk and fucking with my best friends heart. Mind picking her up, before I throw her out?"

It's true, I'm completely capable of imparting with some pain right about now and sharing it in the physical sense is just fine by me. If only Spencer would fall asleep and Ashley didn't make too much noise, I could quite happily let her ass bounce down my steps with a little help from my foot.

"Look, I'll be right over, just don't do anything drastic, please Carmen? Promise me you'll wait until I get there before...Just wait for me, okay?"

I nod stupidly, not caring that she can't see me right now, because I'm not sure my voice wouldn't crack if I spoke. I'm seriously that pissed off. Okay, fine, I'm also secretly that happy to hear her voice suddenly. It's pathetic really that just the way she says my name can affect me so much. Can drag me away from my memories at least a little bit.

Finally though, I take another deep breath and answer her.

"Fine, just get over here. I won't murder her in her sleep until then."

Then I abruptly end the call, slumping back down on the steps. A quick phone call to my mother sorts the kids out, she's at my door ten minutes later to pick them up. I explain about the Reunion and she agrees to take them, loving the chance to probably spoil them rotten for a whole day and night.

I really just don't want them around for...well, for whatever happens when Kyla gets here. I don't want the kids to see me maybe taking Ashley's head off and I know that one look at Spencer would have Julie clucking around the girl like a chicken. They don't need that, not with how hard it is for them without their mom around half the time.

So when another fifteen minutes pass and I hear a car pull up, I'm glad the house is empty, save for the two people upstairs. I'm waiting in the doorway, my shoulder leaning against the frame as I watch Kyla get out of a funky red sports car, her hair tousled madly by the wind and dark glasses hiding her eyes. I'm insanely disappointed that I can't see her eyes, that I can't loose myself for a little while in their warm depths.

I finally realize then that I didn't call her here to fetch Ashley, or to stop me from possibly committing murder, but because I just needed her. I needed her to make me feel the way she did in that hospital cafeteria, where I couldn't remember my own name, much less all the things troubling me. When she steps out of the car I'm down the steps to hold the door open for her, her eyebrows creeping up above the top of her sunglasses and I don't need to see her eyes to know they're showing surprise.

"Oh God, you're being nice! You've already killed her, haven't you?! This is guilt, the smiling and the holding my car door, it's all guilt!"

I almost smile even wider at her mellow drama, my heart already beating a little lighter than it did just moments ago. This is why I phoned her, this is why I didn't just haul Ashley's ass up and out of my house, because then I'd have no excuse to phone her crazy, beautiful, drama queen of a stepsister.

"No one's dead...yet. I'm just being polite when greeting a guest, there's nothing wrong with that, right?"

I'm breathing easier with her next to me, my hand finding the small of her back and resting there, feeling mostly calm for the first time in what feels like hours. There's suddenly no panic, no oppressive feeling of helplessness or raging anger. There's just the reassuring warmth of Kyla's skin beneath my hand, her face that's comically worried as she finally takes the damned glasses off her face and gives me a glimpse of warm brown eyes.

"No, polite is good, it's much preferred to bloodshed and violence as far as greetings go. It's just a little unexpected after your phone call and the way we left things at the hospital. I thought..."

She trails off, her hand unconsciously going down to cup her stomach in what I guess is a comforting gesture for her. When my hand covers hers, my thumb brushing against the taught skin of her swollen belly, she actually sucks in a breath filled with surprise.

"You thought this was going to be hard, that there would be fights and begging and tears, but you were willing to go through that anyway. You were fully prepared to not give up on me, on us, weren't you, Tink?"

She shudders when I pull her in a little closer, when the hand I have resting against her back circles around her waist. This morning I woke up and decided I was going to give this a go with her, that I would trust in what we felt after all this time, despite everything that's happened in the past. So I'm going to do that, I'm not going to let the feelings of fear, or anger and helplessness, that speaking to Ashley this morning brought back to me stand in the way of this.

Besides, after the morning I just had, it's kinda funny to see Kyla trying to work out what the hell is going on. My Tink, she was never as dumb as she pretended to be, but today she's not catching on as quickly as I expected her too either. That's okay, I can have more fun with that, I think I deserve a little fun after all.

"I...uh...yes, I mean no, I wasn't going to give up. Still not going to, despite you threatening to murder my sister and possibly being mad as a rattlesnake at me after I pulled that little stunt yesterday. So I'm not giving up, no. I'm here, I'm fighting, I'm willing to give it my all."

She sounds like a soldier signing up for the war, her shoulders actually straightening and her face determined and I know I've made the right decision. It's not going to be easy, we're going to have to have the serious talks and there will be fighting, but nothing I see in her face tells me it wont be absolutely worth it.

"Good, 'cos I'm pretty sure I want your all, despite your all being pregnant and halfway to Splitsville."

Then I kiss her for good measure, swallowing her delighted squeal and giggling into her mouth when she grabs hold of me like I'm the biggest and the best Christmas present she's ever gotten. It's nice, the kinda nice that makes your soul feel lighter and clears your mind of every dark thought that's ever crossed it.

So maybe I'm taking a huge risk by jumping into this with her, but I can't ignore every instinct in me telling me that this is right, common sense and almost ten years of separation be damned! I want this, so why should I not have it?

She pulls back suddenly, her hands around my upper arms as she steadies me and fixes me with a dark, intense look. It gives me chills right down to my little toes.

"You're serious, you want this, us? Just like that?"

I nod my head, pulling her back against me, not being able to have her even those few inches away from me. This is what I dreamed about those last few months in high school, it's what I sat and imagined in every class I shared with Kyla, when I had to watch her with someone else. I imagined her looking into my eyes like she's doing right now, with love and happiness, with contentment.

"Yes, this is what I want. I'm not going to walk away from this, not while there's a chance to fight for what we lost before. You were right, we're not kids anymore, we know better now, we can do this. So I don't see why we can't fight for this, for us, together. You're not scared anymore and I'm not in pieces in some hospital bed, so if it's ever going to work, now is the time, Tink."

I mean it, and she means it when she leans in and kisses me softly, with tenderness and devotion and promise in every soft slide of her mouth against mine. It rocks me deeply, makes my insides flood with warmth and desire and none of it scares me, none of it reminds me of anything unpleasant. It just roots me to the spot and turns me to mush, like only Kyla ever could.

When she pulls back again I actually groan, I'm so pleasantly lost in her arms.

"Okay, as much as I hate possibly bursting my own little love bubble here, what's the story with Ashley screwing around with Spencer?"

I sigh and bury my face in her neck, luxurious strands of brunette hair tickling my face pleasantly as I try to adjust myself around her slightly protruding belly. I've never dated a pregnant woman before, definitely never had sex with one, but I'm pretty sure that's not going to be a problem for me. I'm most definitely turned on by the fact that her breasts are larger and that her whole body is practically screaming 'I am woman, see my curves!'. Yup, no complaints from me in that department, I just wish she would have kept her mouth shut about the whole Spencer and Ashley situation for a little while longer and let me bask in her....womanliness.

"Your sister is hurting Spencer."

Kyla nods slowly, her hands burying themselves in my hair and stroking my scalp rhythmically as she nuzzles against my cheek.

"Did they fight? Did they scream and shout and then somehow magically end up in bed together anyway?"

I snort at the disbelief in her voice and find myself nibbling the strong tendon in her neck, my lips leisurely tasting her skin afterwards.

"What? You don't think people can scream and shout and fight and then still end up bedding each other?"

I cock an eyebrow and give her a look, a look that states clearly I remember our days in high school. I remember fighting and teasing and then still having her up against a wall in her mother's shower despite it. The blush that runs up her neck and across her cheeks tell me she remembers too.

"Okay, right, it happens obviously, but do you think that's what's going on up there?"

I shake my head, leaning back to look her in the eye again, becoming much too distracted by the fact that her top is rather low cut. Did I mention the slightly larger than I remember breasts?

"No, that's not what's happening up there, but I know from seeing Spencer's face, from the feeling in my gut, that whatever Ashley said to her today, didn't make a damn thing better between them. Spencer's hurting and Ashley isn't doing anything other than making it worse."

Kyla nods, her eyes narrowing and there's suddenly nothing but grim determination and shrewd calculation in those brown depths.

"Well, don't you think we should do something about that?"

And that there, that's exactly why I love this woman. Okay, it's also pretty much what terrifies me about her, but there's more love than fear right now, so I'll go with it. Kyla's not one to sit around and just watch things unfold, she gets her hands dirty. So I'm not sure what she's planning, but I know I'll go along with it, because she does have a way of getting what she wants, doesn't she?

And by the way she's smiling she wants something alright, and that something involves Spencer and Ashley and I doubt seriously that it's them separated...

"I don't know, Tink, does my vote here even count?"

When she just tips her head back and laughs, I'm pretty much resigned to the fact that I've just signed up for trouble. I don't have to be a genius to know what she's thinking, that the romantic in her is already plotting ways to give everyone here a happy ending, but with her in my arms I can't really begrudge anyone else that same feeling of happiness, can I?

Even if I don't for one second think that Ashley Davies is capable of letting herself have that with Spencer, no matter how much Spencer deserves it...

- - -

Right, so hopefully you liked that? Once again I rushed a bit with Carmen's feelings and all, but I was so depressed after re-reading the Ashley chapter that I wanted a bit of hope, you know? So yeah, I gave myself a good dose of Kymen! Lol. Sorry to those that don't care for them, but they make me kinda giddy with happiness...

At least I'm all caught up with everyone to the same point more or less. Next one is a Spencer chapter I think, so then we'll be moving forward again.

So as always, I'd love your opinion if you're in the mood to share, so don't be shy!