Hello my friends! Here's another one, hot off my word document. Have fun, and keep up the wonderful reviews, they make me smile! Love you guys :)

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In my dream, I was chasing Ashley. In fact, every night now for the past…I don't even know how long it's been, she's been in my dreams. Always out of reach, always walking away from me. The farther she walked, the faster I ran. The louder I called her name, the more upset I got that she wouldn't turn her beautiful figure toward me, blessing me with that perfect, crooked smile of hers.

To my agitation, I became the center of attention for most of the school, particularly Clay, who followed me around constantly like an irritating fly. Well, okay, maybe that was a little harsh. But he was tap dancing on my last nerve.

I attempted to convince Clay and everyone else that Ashley was the real hero. I never missed an opportunity to recount how she bravely pulled me out of the way, and had almost been crushed in the process, to anyone who would listen. However, I quickly learned that nobody really cared what Ashley did. Clay, Chelsea, and Sherry ceaselessly commented on how none of them had even seen her until the EMTs showed up. It seemed as though every student had given up trying to communicate with the Davies in general.

Nobody watched her like I did. How pathetic.

Meanwhile, the Davies' resumed their normal lunch time atmosphere, conversing amongst themselves, never touching their uneaten food. Ashley hardly ever looked my way anymore.

The mountain of fury and lies built between us in the ER had faded for me, transforming into a kind of admiring gratitude, but apparently not for Ashley. I knew she wished she hadn't pulled me out of Clay's van's path. I wanted so badly to speak to her again, but I couldn't pluck up the courage.

The next day in Biology, my heart beat at a frenzied pace as soon as I caught sight of her chocolate curls. She maintained an entire state of unawareness toward me, sitting as far away as possible.

"Hello, Ashley," I said congenially, flashing my best smile at her.

She turned her head a little, and nodded curtly. If her curls hadn't bounced, I wouldn't have thought she had looked at all. That's it; the only contact I've had with her for about a week. Day by day, I helplessly observed her from across the parking lot or the cafeteria, noting the fact that with each passing hour, her eyes grew a fraction darker.

I was absolutely crestfallen. The worst part? She continued to haunt my dreams every night.

I was down to responding to Clay in a brief fashion, responding in one-word answers as often as I could. The guy just couldn't take a hint, but he was obviously pleased that Ashley and I weren't on speaking terms.

That annoyed me.

Chelsea called me that night to remind me of the upcoming La Push beach trip. I thanked her politely, dreading the thought of going anywhere when Ashley never seemed to exit my thoughts.

"So…are you thinking of asking anyone to the spring dance?" Chelsea asked sheepishly. I scolded my mind for drifting back into Ashley Land.

"Not at the moment, no. Why, thinking of asking somebody?" I hinted, a smile playing on my lips.

"Umm, well…look Spencer, you can totally ask him if you want. He does like you after all."

"Ask who?" I asked, feigning aloofness. I knew who she was talking about, but I didn't really want to acknowledge his feelings toward me out loud.

"Clay," Chelsea whispered. I was secretly jumping up and down inside; finally! Maybe she could avert his undivided attention from me.

"No, Chels, I'm not going. Ask him, you guys will have a lot of fun," I encouraged her sincerely.

"Oh, thank you, Spencer! See you at school tomorrow!" she exclaimed all in one breath and the dial tone rang in my ear. I smiled to myself, glad that Clay would probably move on to someone else.

On the contrary, Chelsea walked right past me in school the next morning. Head down, hood up, eyes to the floor. As Clay walked me to Biology, he was also unusually quiet.

"Clay? Is something wrong?" In all honesty, I didn't want to know what was wrong. I had the sinking feeling he had turned Chelsea down. It just strengthened my dislike for him.

I know, I can be a really horrible person sometimes.

"Chelsea asked me to the spring dance," he muttered ominously, not making eye contact with me. I stopped walking and stared at him expectantly. "I told her I'd think about it."

"What?!" I exploded. Now I was angry. "Why would you say that?"

"Well…" he fumbled, "I was sort of hoping that you'd ask me."

"I can't go," I said flatly.

"Are you busy?" Clay asked. His eyes darted to Ashley, standing a few feet away. It was all very amusing to me; Clay clearly thought Ashley was his competition.

Judging by her attitude toward me lately, my hopes of that being true have been somewhat diminished.

"Clay, you should tell Chelsea yes," I said bluntly.

"Maybe you and I could just hang out that weekend instead," he suggested hopefully. I found myself getting more and more annoyed. He just won't give up.

"I'm going to Seattle that weekend," I lied, and began to walk toward Biology, "and you shouldn't make Chelsea wait anymore--it's rude."

I didn't look in Clay's direction at all in class after that, but I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Ashley was looking at me curiously. I closed my eyes and exhaled, finally turning to meet her intense, searching gaze. Of course, I wasn't going to break the only eye contact we'd had in weeks, but I expected her to do so, as she's so accustomed to doing.

My cheeks flushed when she didn't.

"Miss Davies?" Mr. Banner called just as the bell sounded throughout the class room. She looked up, and I turned away to gather my things.

"Spencer?" Ashley's musical voice bounced off the walls of my head. I turned reluctantly, putting on my best angry face.

"What? Are you speaking to me again?"

She waved my question away. "I'm sorry if I've been ignoring you…but it's better this way. It really is, trust me."

"What does that even mean?" I tried to keep guarded as I questioned her, but my voice was faltering a bit. She said nothing in response though, only pointed her dark eyes downward.

"You think I regret saving your life," she declared, turning her perfect, serious face up. This time it was my turn to say nothing. "I told you I don't."

"I know you do," I said frostily. "If you didn't, you'd be speaking to me."

"You don't understand."

"Then help me to," I pleaded faintly.

Ashley closed her eyes warily and shook her head. "It's better this way," she repeated. It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.

I turned sharply, and walked to the door. I instantly felt a jolt of regret myself as I walked away from her. Ashley Davies, who looked like a fallen angel in those few moments.

But irritation most definitely outweighed remorse.

As I reached my truck and joined the endless line of cars waiting to leave the lot, I noticed Ashley's shiny red Porsche pulling out in front of me. It halted and stalled; she must have been waiting for her family. I sighed and leaned my head back against the seat, defeated. Her eyes were encased in sunglasses, but I could almost feel them staring at me in her rearview mirror. I bet she was smirking.

Nothing else could possibly go wrong today.

A rap on my window broke my train of thought. I glanced over; it was Ethan Marx. I looked back at my own rearview mirror and spotted his own car behind me, driver's seat door ajar. I cranked the window down with little difficulty for such an old truck.

"Hey, Ethan. I'm sorry, I'm stuck behind Davies," tingles burst in my stomach. Even saying her last name had that effect on me.

Pitiful.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Spence," he smiled sweetly. He really was cute; jet black hair with piercing blue eyes, not unlike my own. Ethan was a nice guy who always helped me when I had trouble in Trig. I could definitely like him.

You know, if I swung that way.

"So, what's up?" I asked with a small smile, one hand dangling on the steering wheel.

"Will you ask me to the spring dance?" he asked abruptly, looking a little flustered.

Any affection I previously had for this boy has now dissipated.

"I'm not going to be in town, Ethan," I said sharply, indicating that this conversation was over. I had felt rather guilty, but with Clay badgering me about the same event and Ashley clouding my mind at all hours of the day and night, I didn't care too much.

"Yeah, Clay said that, but we still have prom," he smiled, and walked away before I could ask why he had even bothered to ask if he already knew where I would be.

Or was thinking about going. I haven't exactly asked Arthur yet.

Feeling that I was being watched, I glanced back up to the rearview mirror. Ashley was positively convulsing with laughter, it was very plain to see. Hostility raged through me, and I had a very strong desire to slam my foot on the gas pedal, effectively ruining her Porsche's glossy paint job. But they were already speeding away.

I threw everything down in the hall as I arrived at the house, and resolved to taking out my frustration on dinner. I decided to make chicken enchiladas; an easy dish that would involve a lot of slicing, a fabulous distraction.

As I diced the onions, my eyes started to sting. That combined with my constant thoughts of Ashley didn't bode well for me. My head was spinning a little. Maybe what she meant was that she's noticed my borderline obsession with her and didn't want to plant thoughts in my head of anything going beyond…well, acquaintances, I guess. Because apparently, we can't even be friends.

What was I thinking anyway? Why would a girl like Ashley be interested in someone like me? I'm not alluring or engaging by any stretch of imagination. But she was. Interesting…and gorgeous…and mysterious…and perfect…and enchanting…and strong.

A single tear rolled down my cheek, and it alarmed me so much that I nearly sliced my finger open. I wiped it away hurriedly, and began to dice the peppers. I'll just ignore her from now on. Yeah, that's what I'll do.

I was lying to myself, and I knew it.

***

"Dad?" I broke the silence of dinner with Arthur as he plowed through his second enchilada that night.

"Mmhmm?"

"Um, I just wanted you to know that I'll be spending the day in Seattle next weekend on Saturday. If that's okay, that is," I was seventeen, I didn't need to ask permission. But my conscious bugged me, because technically I'm not an adult yet, and I lamely added the latter part of that announcement.

"What for?" he asked suspiciously, attempting to swallow his large mouthful of Mexican food.

My father, ever the neat eater.

"The library here isn't exactly well stocked, so I was hoping I could go check out some books. Maybe even buy some new clothes."

"Seattle is a big city, Spence," he said cautiously. I could tell he was thinking about it though.

"If I get lost, I'll call you," I told him with an assuring smile, "and I know how to read maps."

He frowned. "Will you be back in time for the dance?"

I knew he was going to ask; it was inevitable. "I don't dance, Dad," I reminded him.

"Oh, that's right," he realized. "Well, I suppose that's okay. But at least fill your truck up before you leave, it doesn't have very good mileage.

"I will. Thanks, Dad," I shot him a thousand-watt smile, and he grinned, satisfied, as he turned back to his enchilada. I rinsed my plate, and decided to go to bed early.

Ashley was in my dreams as usual, her pale skin radiating light. She still wouldn't slow down.

The next morning, I deliberately parked as far away from the red Porsche as possible. I sat in the truck for a few minutes, collecting my thoughts, and promising myself that I would at least try to not pay so much attention to Ashley. But when I opened the door, there she was, leaning against the Hummer parked in the space next to mine.

"How do you do that?" My resolve broke immediately. I was hopeless, and totally in awe of this beautiful girl.

"Do what?" she asked innocently.

"You know what. Appear out of nowhere!" I said, working full throttle against my patience quota being blown first thing in the morning. I began walking toward the school, and she walked briskly beside me.

"I was standing there when you pulled up. It's not my fault you're exceedingly ignorant of your surroundings, Spencer," she teased. I stopped again and looked into her eyes. They were that bright, honey golden color I admired so much again.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" I grumbled, tilting my head to the side. This had to have some sort of affect on her; her lips twitched at the corners as she visibly fought a smile.

"I wanted to ask you something, actually."

At that precise moment, it started to rain.

"Do you have a multiple personality disorder?" I asked seriously. She laughed, a muted velvety chuckle that sounded like three different choirs of angels together, and I noticed that her nose crinkled the slightest bit as she did so.

Another thing for me to obsess over.

"You're sidetracking me, will you allow me to ask the question?"

"Fine, ask away," I snapped, sloshing up the lot again.

Ashley matched my pace. "Well, I overheard that you were going to Seattle next weekend and I was wondering if you wanted a ride,"

I stopped in my tracks, utterly stunned. "With who?"

"Myself, of course," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why?"

"Well, I was planning a trip to Seattle in the next few weeks anyway, and to be honest, your truck doesn't look like it would survive."

"My truck works just fine, thank you very much."

"So can I give you a ride?" she asked, fixing me with an intense stare.

"Honestly, Ashley," I heaved a sigh, "I can't figure you out. One minute, you don't want to be friends, the next you're talking to me, and then it's like I don't even exist."

"I said it would better if we weren't friends, not that I didn't want to be," she said softly. I watched her beautiful face, rain sliding down her skin in small droplets, effectively working to make her look even more angelic than she already does. "It would be more…rational for you and I to remain mere acquaintances. But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Spencer."

Ashley's eyes were so earnest, and her voice was so sincere when she spoke that last sentence. I fixed it in my memory forever; I was robbed of all words.

"Will you go to Seattle with me?" she murmured quietly. I could hardly hear her over the thump of my own heartbeat, but I nodded, unable to contain my smile.

She awarded me with a grin as well, but quickly turned serious. "You really should stay away from me, though. I'll see you in class."

And with that, Ashley Davies turned around, and walked away from me. Again.

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