Hellooo my friends! Another chapter here! I had a lot of fun writing this one. Ashley and Spencer chemistry = LOVEEE. Haha I really hope you guys enjoy this, I'll update as soon as possible! FEEDBACK IS EVERYTHING TO MEEE, love you guys! 33
Pairing: SPASH-SPASH-SPASHLEY!
Disclaimer: Nothing. I own nothing except maybe, possibly putting two and two together lol.
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It's way too early to be awake, I thought as opened my eyes to the green-gray light streaming in through the window. I threw back the covers and sat on the edge of my bed, stretching like a Cheshire cat. As I showered, I thought of Clay, and the way he acted around me. I was by no means as pretty as some of the girls at Forks High. In fact, I saw myself as rather plain. Blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin. You'd think that would be some automatic pass into popularity, but it's stereotypical. Quite a few of the girls at school presented exotic backgrounds; ivory skin with glistening green eyes and shiny, cascading brown or black hair.
I looked typical. Resembling a clichéd vision of some Los Angeles-based, rich cheerleader.
I was genuinely flattered by what Clay saw in me, whatever it was, but I held no interest in him extending any farther than friendship. I could tell that Chelsea liked Clay, though. And perhaps he liked her, too, aside from his painfully obvious attraction to me. They're just dancing around each other, that's all.
An image of Ashley Davies' impeccable face flittered through my mind, and I briefly wondered what she thought of me. In all honesty, I was anxious to get to school just so I could see her.
And this was very, very stupid of me.
Arthur was already gone when I arrived in the kitchen. My nerves flared in the pit of my stomach again, and I thought twice about consuming an entire bowl of cereal. I did anyway, though. It was pointless not to eat, even if my mind was not on breakfast.
I grumbled incoherent, angry words all the way to my car; it was snowing, what a fabulous start to my day. An alarming amount of ominous black ice covered the roads, but my truck crawled along at an incredibly leaden pace.
No matter how much I tried not to be, and no matter how much I tried to distract my mind from creeping back to her, I was still excited to see Ashley. Even though I really shouldn't be after my conversation with her yesterday. I mean, come to think of it, what is it any of my business if she got contacts or not? She just got so tense…she had no reason to be, though. I was just curious, but now I was suspicious. Her eyes really were a beautiful shade of gold; they reminded me a lot of warm honey.
Honey I think I secretly wanted to drown myself in.
As I pulled into my usual parking spot, I almost lost my balance when I set foot onto the iced asphalt. I managed to cling to the side mirror, saving myself from a broken bone or two. That's when a flash of silver caught my eye on the tires. Arthur had risen at some ungodly hour last night, and installed them for me. A smile played on my lips; he really did care, even if he had a peculiar way of showing it.
Out of nowhere, a high-pitched screech rang through the parking lot. I jumped, startled, and realized it was the sound of a car skidding. You can thank my mother once again for my attuned hearing to that particular noise, she tended to make that sound with her own vehicle on a regular basis. Road rage.
Everything happened in slow motion, like in a movie when everything slows down. Ashley Davies was standing at least four cars down from me, if not more, and broke her usual stance of her slender arms folded across her chest. She pushed herself off from the side of her Porsche, and removed her sunglasses. A creamy colored van was sliding out of control, zooming toward me at a frightening pace. I was rooted to the spot, too petrified by my own fear to escape being hit. I was the only thing standing between the van and the left side of my truck. I didn't even have time to close my eyes as I felt my head connect with the frozen blacktop, and heard the sickening crunch of metal being damaged.
"Don't move," I recognized Ashley's voice, but was too focused on the dull pounding in my head where it was hit to look at her. My body didn't feel crushed into oblivion.
Did I even get hit?
I vaguely registered the tan car, a large dent placed on it's right side, spinning back toward me. A strong arm snaked around my waist, and I was pulled tightly against Ashley's cold body as she kneeled protectively in front of me. The metallic thump was heard in the deepest corners of the parking lot as Ashley's hand connected with the other side of the van. The battered vehicle shuddered to a screeching halt, and all was absolutely silent.
One, two, three…
"Spencer!" a few voices yelled at once.
"Get Clay out of the van!" someone else shouted. Above the chaos, I looked up into Ashley's slightly widened golden eyes, her face twisted in concern.
"Spencer? Are you alright?" My vision was a little hazy, and I was suddenly aware of the fact that she still had her arm looped around my waist. My stomach erupted in tingles, forgetting the pain in my head.
Butterflies?
"I'm fine, how did you-"
"Be careful, you banged your head pretty hard," she cut me off, gently cradling my head with her free hand.
"Ashley, how did you get over here so fast?" I persisted, resisting the overwhelming urge to reach up and stroke her pale, flawless cheek. Was this even real?
She frowned. "I was right next to you."
"No, you weren't," I sat upright, feeling a head rush. Ashley let go, and I immediately felt nauseous. "You were all the way down there by your Porsche," I gestured in the general direction of her previous position. Her expression hardened and she slid as far away from me as possible in the limited space between the two cars.
"I was standing right next to you, Spencer," she repeated, her blazing golden eyes holding my gaze firmly.
What was I saying?
"But-"
"Miss, we need to get you to the hospital," an EMT spoke frantically. I contemplated slapping him, too wrapped up in my conversation with Ashley. In a few minutes, I was lying in the back of an ambulance, Ashley riding up front.
It was infuriating. I was fine!
As the EMT chatted animatedly to Ashley about the extent of my possible injuries, I was sifting through the images in my mind of the crash. The dents in Clay's van stemmed from its impact with Ashley's white hand, I was sure of it. It was like the van hit a wall; she didn't even shiver, or show any signs that the collision affected her at all.
As I was unloaded on a stretcher, an EMT fastened a neck brace around me. I experienced a blend of emotions ranging from feeling ridiculous that I was being forced to wear something as unnecessary as a neck brace to being conspicuously annoyed that Ashley simply drifted ahead of us. She was using her own two legs, and I could plainly see that mine were not useless.
Doctors can be impossibly absurd sometimes.
"Spencer! Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Clay apologized over and over as I was placed on a vacant bed. As a nurse took my temperature and went through all the standard motions administered to a patient, I looked on at Clay's blood-bandaged face in utter horror. He looked one hundred times worse than me, and I didn't have more than a few scratches from scattered glass. I felt somehow guilty.
"Don't apologize, Clay. Ice tricks even the best of drivers," a musical voice sounded from the doorway. Ashley leaned against the frame, and flashed her pearly whites in his direction. I glared at her from my bed, but it was really hard not to stare in amazement instead.
"I thought I was going to kill you! God, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened to you," Clay ignored Ashley and looked down, visibly angry with himself. I pitied him; it wasn't his fault.
"It's fine, Clay, I'm alive," I plastered a smile on my face to show him just how alright I was. My eyes flickered to Ashley, who was now surveying me, her head against the door frame. Even if I was mad at her, I couldn't help thinking how especially beautiful she looked in that moment.
Just then, an extremely handsome, pale, blonde doctor strode confidently through the door with Arthur close behind. The doctor's features were picturesque; I reasoned this must be Dr. Davies. Father and daughter locked eyes for a moment, I could tell they were communicating in some outrageous way. It made my blood boil a little bit.
The doctor knew about his daughter's save this morning.
"Spence, are you alright?" My own father's face was painted with worry.
"I'm fine, Dad, really," I kept my eyes fixed on Ashley's averted face.
"You were very lucky, Spencer," Dr. Davies smiled at me.
"Lucky Ashley was standing right next to me," I muttered inaudibly. Or so I thought. Ashley's gaze flickered to me, and I saw the soft golden in her eyes flare. The doctor ignored my comment, but I saw the subtle change in his facial features as he pretended to be busy with his clipboard. He heard me.
"We're going to keep you overnight, and you'll need to keep the neck brace on for at least a few more hours," he smiled gently, "just to be sure."
I heaved a sigh and met Ashley's eyes. "Can I talk to you?" I mouthed to her. She nodded and muttered something unintelligible to her father.
"Come on, Arthur, let's get you some coffee," Dr. Davies spoke kindly, taking my father's elbow and steering him out, against his urgent protests to stay with me.
"Yes, Spencer?" her velvet voice sounded annoyed. Her words contained unfriendliness, and it occurred to me how much I detest being on her bad side.
"I t-think you owe me an explanation," I stammered timidly.
"I saved your life," she deadpanned. I looked at her stubbornly, letting her know with my eyes that I didn't believe her. "What do you think happened?"
"All I know is you weren't anywhere near me, Ashley. I know you weren't. Your hand made dents in the car, and it didn't look like it affected you at all. And don't tell me I hit my head too hard, you're not telling me the truth."
"Nobody will believe you," she seethed through gritted teeth.
"Why did you even bother, Ashley?" I asked softly, casting my eyes downward, not able to look into her golden orbs without feeling tears spill over my eyelashes. Feeling the urge to cry in front of her made me feel immeasurably stupid.
"I don't know," she whispered. I looked up and we shared a moment of silence. "I don't regret it though."
"Thank you," I murmured. She didn't tell me everything, but strangely, it's okay for right now.
"You're not going to let it go, are you?" She challenged, her eyes narrowed now. I felt the dull pain throbbing in my head again. It was like trying to have a staring contest with an angel, glowing so bright and glorious that it hurt your eyes to keep watching.
"No."
She bit her lip, and sucked in a quiet breath. "Well, then I hope you enjoy disappointment, Spencer," She snapped. I watched her stand and swiftly exit the room, head down, not looking back.
As I drifted off into a defeated sleep, a thought presented itself to me. I wanted to be back at school for the sole purpose of being in proximity with Ashley. I'll admit, my mind was completely swamped with the mystery that she represented, and I might've been a little obsessed with her. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Spencer. This can't be healthy.
But as I was lulled into sleep, her face flickered through my mind. Her perfect features and heart-stopping smile graced every one of my thoughts. I traveled back to the accident this morning and recreated her saving me. Her strong, pale arm wrapped around my waist. I could almost feel her hand tenderly on the back of my head, almost stroking the blonde locks. Those golden eyes filled with apprehension and another, hidden emotion that I couldn't quite place.
That was the first night I dreamed of Ashley Davies.
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R&R PLEASE :)