Hellooo again :) I absolutely positively ADOREDDD your reviews!! You guys keep me writing, the feedback made me smile! As you can tell, I changed some of the things around (like with Spencer's mom) to put some Southness into the story, but it'll stick close to Twilight. I'm going to try and post as much as possible...but I tend to get busy this time of year. I promise at least 1-3 updates a week though! Please keep reading and reviewing, I hope you guys enjoy this next chapter! I LOVE YOU ALL :) 33

Oh, and here's a character list if some of you aren't clear.

Glen: Emmett. Madison: Rosalie. Kyla: Alice. Jake: Jasper. Ashley: Edward. Spencer: Bella. Clay: Eric (or Mike, it really doesn't matter). Sherry: Jessica. Chelsea: Angela. Arthur: Charlie. I'll add more as more characters are introduced!

Pairing: SPASHLEYYY :)

Disclaimer: I. Own. Nothing.

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The next day was better…but worse at the same time.

The upside: it wasn't raining, but the clouds looked really pregnant. People didn't stare at me as much as yesterday, and I felt relief surge through me. Clay sat with me in English, and Sherry joined me in Trig and Spanish. We all sat together at the same table for lunch again, and I remembered some names. I started to feel less alone.

The downside: I was exhausted. Arthur's house didn't have the most sufficient cover from the sounds of rain and wind. I was awake all night…but I don't think I would have gotten to sleep anyway. I was too busy crying. On top of that, I was forced to play volleyball. Yeah, I can't play sports. At all. So, the one time I didn't bother to move out of the way of the ball, I hit my teammate in the head with it. My skills in any kind of athletic sport are cringe-worthy, to say the least.

The worst part: Ashley Davies wasn't in school at all.

Her siblings were, though. All four of them looking solemnly down at their uneaten food. I couldn't concentrate on my own sandwich; I was too nervous for the moment she would walk in and fix me with her threatening glare.

But she didn't come, and as time passed, I could feel my chest constricting a little bit. As Clay, Chelsea, and I meandered over to building six for Biology, I held my labored breath until we got to the door. My pulse must have increased ten-fold, but Ashley was not sitting in her seat. I exhaled, and I swear I could feel my heart drop a little bit. Chelsea was trying feebly to make conversation with Clay, but he was too busy looking at me.

Once again, so not my type. I need to do something about him…

You could say I was relieved that Ashley was absent. However, my mind was not failing to convince me that I was the reason she wasn't there. It seems vain of me, to think I could affect her so strongly. But I did, I knew I did. Her face in the office and in this very class just twenty-four hours before confirmed it for me. Her beautiful face, twisted in agony and visible pain.

I'm going to ask her what her problem is tomorrow. I won't let her get away, I'll sit as close to her as possible if that's what it takes for an answer.

The bell blared noisily, interrupting Mr. Banner's lecture on the phases of mitosis. I was out the door before Clay could get to my desk, waving half-heartedly to Chelsea on the way. As I walked swiftly to my truck, I saw the Davies' kids sauntering--well, it was more like gliding, if you want to know the truth--toward their shiny, silver Volvo. I observed that they were all dressed especially well.

My mind drifted back to Ashley. She could've worn a baggy shirt with holes in it, and still manage to look untouchably perfect.

The Davies' turned their heads in the direction of my truck as the insufferably loud engine sputtered on my way out of the lot. I kept my eyes straight ahead, fearing that their gazes would mirror Ashley's.

As I entered the house, I immediately began preparations for dinner. Arthur and I agreed to trade off each night as far as the meals went.

"Hey, Dad. Welcome home." I called from the kitchen as I heard him hang up his gun belt.

"What's for dinner?" he asked gruffly. He was obviously wary of my cooking skills. You can thank my mother for the lack thereof.

"Steak and potatoes," I answered brightly, smiling as the potatoes began to sizzle. Arthur sat down as I placed a loaded plate in front of him. He immediately began to dig in as I sat down.

"You look like you haven't eaten in months, Dad," I laughed.

"That's because I haven't, thanks to your mother," he replied darkly. This is figurative; my mother made some really odd dishes…Arthur and I just ended up going out to the diner almost every night after ridding our plates of the eccentric food. If you could call it that.

The silence that followed was a little uncomfortable. I pretended to be engrossed in cutting my steak.

"So how's school, Spence? You making friends alright?"

"Well, I have two or three classes with a girl named Sherry. I also have biology with a girl named Chelsea, and this boy named Clay."

"Clay Gordon? He's a strapping young man, very charming. His father is on the force with me," Arthur said through a mouthful of steak. I wasn't really listening, I was too preoccupied with my internal debate. To ask my father about the Davies', or to not ask my father about the Davies'; that is the question.

I elected the first option. "Do you know the Davies family?"

"Oh, sure. Dr. Davies is an incredible physician! We're pretty lucky, in my opinion, to have such a well-mannered family in town. All those adopted teenagers are so polite, he raised them well."

"They're all very attractive," I marveled quietly.

"Got your eye on one of the boys, Spence?" He nudged me, his eyes twinkling.

I paled slightly, feeling suddenly sick to my stomach. "No, Dad." He could sense the tension, and stood up to rinse his plate. I took slow sips of water, trying desperately to control my shaking hand.

After I did the dishes, I headed upstairs to my room to complete what little math homework I had. Sleep was inevitable as soon as I hit the pillow; Mother Nature decided to spare me with the wind and rain tonight.

The rest of the week was moderately uninteresting. Maybe it's because Ashley Davies still didn't come back to school. I had become comfortable around the people I ate lunch with. Lately the conversation had been centered around visiting La Push, the beach on some nearby Indian reservation. Given my druthers, I would have opted out of it, but I accepted the invitation anyway.

You know what they say, karma always comes back to bite you.

It was a lot warmer inside the cafeteria today; snow fell in flurries of white outside. Ew, I don't do snow.

Without warning, I could feel the hairs on my arms stand up. I swiveled around in my seat, and in that exact moment, her eyes flashed over to meet mine.

Ashley Davies was back.

Something was different, though. The dark circles under her eyes were gone, and her skin was visibly less pale, maybe even a little flushed. She looked away just as swiftly though, and I inwardly sighed. Why couldn't she keep eye contact with me for more than a millisecond?

"Spencer, what are you staring at?" Sherry asked, waving a hand in front of my face.

"Oh, um," I let my blonde hair fall in front of my face again as I blushed, "nothing. Uh, nothing."

Sherry glanced toward the Davies' table. Longing was apparent in her features. Glen, Madison, Jake, and Kyla were all laughing at something as Ashley smirked. I reasoned that she must have told some sort of joke. I felt an ache in my stomach to be present when she said it…to be laughing along with them. Their immaculate faces shaped into heartwarming smiles.

It all looked like one of those 'Merry Christmas' Hallmark cards that my parents used to get in the mail when they were together. Holiday greetings with pictures of model children laughing and playing in the snow; in essence, looking perfect.

"Ashley Davies is staring at you," Chelsea stage whispered to me.

"Does she look angry?"

"Not really, she just looks kind of…well, I don't know. Opaque, I guess."

I felt sick all of a sudden. "I don't think she likes me very much."

"The Davies' don't like anybody, Spencer. They don't notice anybody long enough to care, so don't feel bad," Sherry scoffed. It occurred to me that Sherry was painfully indicative of the Davies' teenagers. I'm almost positive Glen or Jake turned her down…more than once.

"She's still watching you, Spence!" Chelsea exclaimed excitedly. I rested my head on my arm, inhaling deeply. She might've said that just a bit too loud for my liking.

When the bell sounded for sixth hour, my stomach began to churn at the thought of sitting next to Ashley again. Clay chattered on to Chelsea about a ludicrous, school-wide snowball fight he was planning after school. I wasn't really listening; I was not looking forward to said snowball fight. It was evident that Clay intended to include me in his scheme.

I sat down as soon as Mr. Banner opened the classroom, and absorbed myself in drawing an elaborate pattern of boxes. My breathing picked up as the chair next to me scraped against the tiles, and I unconsciously gripped my pencil tightly.

"Hello," a quiet, musical voice pronounced.

I looked up, absolutely astounded that she was speaking to me.

"My name is Ashley Davies," she persisted with a crooked smile lingering on her now friendly face, "I didn't have the chance to introduce myself last week, I apologize for that. You must be Spencer Carlin."

My mouth was hanging agape, and she probably thought I resembled a tourist who'd just seen the Eiffel Tower.

Or something like that.

"Y-yeah, hi," I stuttered. Nice, Spencer. Now she probably thinks you're mentally incompetent.

"I suppose we're going to be lab partners. Would you like to look first?" she asked, flashing me a smile that revealed her extremely straight, ultra white teeth. I noticed that Ashley was sitting as far away from me as the table would allow, but her chair was angled toward me.

"S-sure," I stammered. I really should get that habit checked out…

After carefully looking through the eyepiece, I pushed it back towards her. "It's prophase."

"Do you mind if I take a look?" she asked. I pushed the microscope a little farther towards her. To be honest, I would let her do anything she wanted if she asked me right then.

"You were right," she announced, studying my face.

"I like to think I'm okay at Biology," I blushed, and tried to keep eye contact for as long as possible. I watched her elegant fingers as they gracefully switched the delicate slides.

"Anaphase," she declared after a moment.

"May I?" I requested sheepishly. When she pushed the microscope towards me, our hands brushed. An electric current surged through my hand, and it stung a little bit. Her skin was ice cold.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, and looked away to scrawl out anaphase on her paper.

"It's okay," I replied stupidly. My voice was soft, why was I so nervous?

After a few more slides, the lab was finished, and Ashley turned to me, her eyes careful.

"Why did you come here?" she demanded. An image of her hateful glare flashed through my mind; I hoped she wasn't going to suddenly become hostile again.

"It's complicated," I said meekly.

"I think I can keep up," she pressed.

Something in her gaze made me want to tell her my entire life story. But I just settled for the present. "My mother remarried."

"I see. You don't like him." It wasn't a question, it was a conclusion.

"Well…it's not that I don't like Ben. I just don't like him with my mother," I explained.

"The result of that being your move to L.A.?"

"Not exactly," my heart rate began to escalate. Ashley looked at me with that searching, curious gaze again. It was almost as if she expected something of me. "She--my mother--kicked me out." Ashley immediately understood that I didn't want to talk about it.

"I'm sorry," she murmured again as her eyebrows furrowed. I shrugged, and looked back at my box drawing.

"You're unhappy, aren't you, Spencer?" her velvet voice resonated in my ears. Just then, the bell rang. She--this angelically, flawless girl--walked by my side in the hallway, effectively earning stares from everyone within a ten foot radius. This didn't seem to affect Ashley at all, though. I searched her perfect face, looking straight ahead, eyebrows knitted together. She looked like she was trying to solve a particularly difficult problem.

"Why does it matter to you if I'm unhappy?" I blurted out. The question had been simmering in my head for the past few minutes.

"That's a very good question," she muttered, her facial expression unchanging. More silence.

"Am I irritating you?" she asked, stopping to look at me. Of course not, it's not even possible for somebody like her to annoy somebody like me. And that's not sarcasm.

"No, you're not. I'm slightly annoyed with myself…my face is so easy to read."

"Actually, Spencer, I find you quite…troublesome to read," she hesitated on troublesome, surveying my face again. I looked away, flushing. How a girl as beautiful and seemingly intangible as her is having a conversation with a girl like me is bewildering.

Suddenly, I pinpointed exactly what was different about her face.

"Hey Ashley, did you get contacts?"

"No," she looked puzzled for a moment. I squinted and blinked a few times. Maybe I had imagined the black color of her eyes last time.

"Your eyes…last week, they were black. Now they're golden."

Ashley suddenly looked completely on edge. "I have to go," she said, her voice strained, and she hurried off down the hallway. She still maintained a confident stride as she rounded a corner and disappeared from my line of sight.

The rain was merely a mist now as I walked to the parking lot. Why did Ashley leave so abruptly? I was getting progressively more frustrated, and I think it showed a little in my increased speed. As I backed my truck up, I spotted Ashley leaning against the side of her Porsche. I discerned the Volvo must belong to one of the other Davies'. Kyla, maybe. She looked like she'd drive a Volvo.

Ashley's sunglass-covered eyes were pointed in my direction. Why was she wearing sunglasses if it was overcast?

Something between irritation and another feeling I couldn't quite distinguish rose in my chest. Either way, my heartbeat raced again and I almost backed into a Highlander. My cheeks flamed so badly that I had to turn the heater off. I tried not to glance at Ashley as I gunned out of the parking lot, but I couldn't help myself.

I could have sworn she was chuckling.

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R&R please!!! :) More soon!