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Chapter Fourteen

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Spencer didn't get much sleep that night.

In fact if any accuracy were to be had here, then she hadn't slept at all. She tried all the right techniques. Sheep were counted, nothing was thought of, yet nothing went blank. Even when she heard her father creep into his bedroom (her mother Paula had done so a few hours earlier) at midnight, Spencer's humbled blue eyes stared cold at the ceiling above her. There was some ruffling about. She tossed and turned underneath her sheets, a groan or two rumbled around her, across the room she heard the purring of her kitten's slumber. When the hours started to roll on by Spencer realized that she just couldn't hit the hey feeling like she did. She not only felt depressed but also, understandably, could not stop thinking about Ashley. She was out there right now, in Crenshaw, alone, maybe even sleeping, wondering if her father would come home earlier than usual; with vodka on his breath and a hand clutched into a fist. The very thought made her wince. Soon Spencer realized that that too was keeping her up. Not only what she had seen that night but the possibility that this might not be the end of it. That all it would take was for that pig of a man Ashley called her Dad to put his daughter in the hospital again was a brief flux of anger - any of the slightest irritations. It was a chilling thought. Its primacy in keeping Spencer awake was undeniable.

Eventually Spencer simply gave up on sleep. Instead she wrenched the blankets from her, clad only in her pajamas (navy blue with gold sun and moon symbols over it) and ambled downstairs. Her mouth felt dry. She needed something to wash down her throat so when she came to her fridge she settled on a cold glass of milk. With that poured for herself she took a brief sip before returning to her bedroom with the glass and sitting down on the chair astride her computer desk.

She wanted to think about other things. She wanted to think about how she'd seen Ashley differently now, about how much potential she had as a student, about what windows might be open to Ashley if she just considered going to college. But Spencer found that she couldn't. All she could think about was what that asshole might do to her. That was why she couldn't sleep and that was why Spencer kept glancing at her purse. Inside it were the numbers of Ashley's Mom. In her heart Spencer wanted to call the woman now, to tell her how bad things were for her daughter and that something needed to be done before it happened again. But it was early morning and she was probably asleep. And whoever it was she lived with was probably even more in the dark about this than she was, it wasn't a good idea to wake them both out of their sleep. It seemed like a stupid time to be so polite, but that was how Spencer had been since she was a child. A rock of manners and mild mannerisms, understated and of an intractably good comportment. As haunting as Ashley's situation was it couldn't rewire so many years of programming.

For that reason she found herself yearning for the morning sun. The sooner it became bright Sunday, the sooner she could call Ashley's mother and tell her what was happening. However time never rolled that fast if you waited for it. Spencer knew that well. So instead she performed her `routine'. Check her e-mails, comb through her schoolwork, raid her mailing lists, and so on and so forth. And that didn't take long to eek out. It soaked up less than an hour or so, if her clock were to be believed. The few e-mails that had been sent her way were replied to and every website she liked to frequent, even the political ones, was beyond her now. The boards were intense with debate about who better to receive the Democratic nomination -- Barack Obama or Hillary Clinton, and what the future might hold if either were to lose to John McCain in November; thus ushering in another Republican presidency. It was understandably heated. Political arguments were one of the few kinds of arguments that Spencer liked to find herself in, mainly because she tended to be so damn good at them. Today she didn't have the chops for it.

That left her with nothing.

So as a result she did something she hadn't done in quite a while. She wrote. For a long time now one of Spencer's hobbies had been the writing of poetry. But from time to time she dabbled in short stories too. She chose subjects that were relevant to her at the time, ones that she could bury herself in, then rolled with them, quite completely. Spencer clicked on her My Documents folder and opened up a sub-folder with the last short story she'd been working on -- a piece called A Tale of The Winter Lady -- which she'd ironically started the day before she first met Ashley, the day before they first slept together, the last day of her virginity. And she started to update it. What followed was written word more florid and less terse than she was used to producing, a choice excerpt of that;

"Into the phantom deep she dove, blackened by wretchedness and chill. The beating heart inside her was now no more; nothing of the sort that had offered bittersweet Sophia her love. Low and behold, she was nought but a wraith now -- cold and dead. The enclaves of that once serene woman's emotion had fallen and become nothingness in the tart face of her despondency. Now all that stood was the motivation to end it all, to seek deeper into the nocturne, but with a concluding, welcomed twist... there would be no more pain."

By the time morning finally hit Spencer had added in more than 5,700 words into that single unbroken story. The tale itself was reflective of her temperament in general -- quiet, cold, distant. The setting was 1800s England, the city of York; about a maid girl of sixteen years who had fallen madly in love with an older woman of thirty-nine. The bulk of it? The young woman lamenting the loss of her older lover, Lady Sophia, to smallpox and the suicide she committed months afterward. The theme throughout every paragraph she'd written, the pulse behind each word, was loss. She welcomed it. It was intentional. Loss was now a dominating theme in Spencer's life, in both positive and negative ways, something she'd begun to understand. When she first met and slept with Ashley she had lost two things -- her virginity and her self-respect. When she met Nicole she lost her feeling of alienation from the world around her. Now she'd lost sight of the Ashley she thought she knew. Spencer had seen Ashley for who she really was as well as what she really had to deal with.

So when she read through the story in sum, alternating between what she wrote before and what she wrote now, she could see a clear difference. The Spencer that existed pre-Ashley Davies was a little self-indulgent. She was understandably remote but childish about it, as though the world owed her something, as though she had been short-changed like none other had been. She could see it in her own writing;

"Lily lacked what the lords of Willow Hall loved in their wives. She was not a lovely maiden. Not a noble lady, nor a duchess of grace nor even a woman of the cloth. She was the stumbling note, the err, the mistaken key upon the piano that even the master might happen to tap. Lily knew herself to be no true beauty. Why should someone as lowly as her, someone so utterly without heavenly blessing, deserve someone as magnificent as Lady Sophia undoubtedly was?"

The pretty nature of her prose didn't hide the self-referential tinge of it. The character "Lily" was so damn obvious. The whole story was Spencer's sounding board. Through it she spoke about her alienation and feelings of inadequacy. It was a cathartic gesture. But now, knowing everything she did about Ashley, she couldn't help but see how shallow it all really was. She'd buried herself in her own head for years now and had refused to acknowledge the reality -- life just wasn't as bad for her as she thought it was. Now there was Ashley, whose own life had ripped that error from her, leaving her only with insight and incision. There was someone out there with a real problem, someone she needed to help.

It would reflect in her writing later, that understanding. But for now it simply helped pass the time, inching minutes into hours, overseeing the rise of the sun. Before long it was mid-morning. At first Spencer didn't notice it, so deep in her thoughts and her writing, but sunlight was joined by bird chirps and that alerted her to it, as well as the nuzzling of her kitten Koenig at her leg.

"Are you hungry, Koenig?" She whispered, petting her. "Must be morning then."

She checked her watch on the nightstand. It was 9:42 AM. About twenty minutes was enough time left to call Ashley's Mom, right? She must be awake by then. Spencer was resolved on that thought, all she had to do now was get a few things out of the way first. To start off with her carried Koenig to the kitchen. With the little kitten waiting expectantly she refilled her water bowl and served out some cat food into her tray. Whilst Koenig ate her fill Spencer climbed back upstairs and scuttled into the bathroom. She stripped (albeit gingerly -- though sleeping with Ashley had made her less uncomfortable with her own nakedness she was still fairly timid about it) out of her pajamas and padded carefully onto the tiles of her shower compartment. Following a quick hot one she stepped out again in a plume of steam, before drying herself off, combing her hair, and brushing her teeth. With a mauve bath towel around her Spencer strode out of the bathroom. By now her parents were up; not only was their bedroom door open but she could hear the pair of them skirting around each other downstairs. Regardless Spencer returned to her bedroom and redressed in some white shorts and a faint indigo blouse.

Now everything was out of the way.

All she had to do was call Ashley's Mom, explain the situation to her, then beg her to do something about it. The numbers were still scribbled on a piece of paper in her purse so she took it out, as well as her cell. For a long and stupid moment Spencer wondered which one she should use, home phone or cell phone, and then settled on home. At least that way she had a better chance of getting in touch with someone over there, maybe she could leave a brief message or something. However... when Spencer's index finger pressed the first three digits, she heard her doorbell ring.

She froze.

"Who on earth could that be?" The girl wondered.

Nobody called round their house this early in the morning, not even their snooty next door neighbors, the Hamilton's, constantly complaining about Koenig doing her business in their driveway. For a minute though, Spencer thought quick and hard, wondering if that was Ashley. Had something happened again? She dropped her phone onto the bed and peeled out of her room so she could peer over the banister of the hallway. Downstairs she saw her mother at the door, but the girl outside wasn't Ashley at all -- it was Nicole.

She overheard her friend introduce herself to her mother. "...Hiya, Mrs. Carlin. My name's Nicole Milligan, I just moved in across the street?"

"Oh yes," Paula did well to put on her most gracious air. "I've met your Mother, Daryl, already. It's very nice to meet you, Nicole."

"You too." Nicole offered, rather gawkily.

Paula paused a moment. Then: "...Uh, well, is there something I can help you with?"

"Oh, right, of course. I'm friends with your daughter, Spencer. We went to the movies yesterday, remember?"

"Uh huh..."

Nicole scratched the back of her head. "Okay, um... well, uh... I was just wondering if I could see her maybe."

"At this time in the morning? We haven't even had breakfast."

An embarrassed smile. "Oh. Okay, I guess I'm kind of early. Sorry, it's just... you know, back in Utah, where I'm from, I always did things early. Is it, uh... is it still okay if I see her though? I'll be quick."

Spencer couldn't see her Mom's face but she could tell that it was primed with vacillation. Spencer had had few if any real friends in her short life, so one just popping up on her doorstep like this was a new experience. But to Paula's credit she didn't turn Nicole away -- instead she leaned back and yelled, "Spencer? You're little friend from across the street is here."

She was close by, so her petite voice squeaked out, "...Let her up please, Mom."

Paula pulled back, leaving the door open for the girl. Nicole gave her a friendly nod, walked inside and up the stairs, where Spencer was waiting for her. The blonde girl looked on as Nicole approached her, a little less bubbly than usual, with a friendly caress of the shoulder.

"Hey Spencer," she said calmly. "Sorry to stop by so early. Were you sleeping?"

"No, I... I've been awake for a while now. W-what are you doing here?" Truth be told Spencer didn't mean that to be half as rude as it sounded. There hadn't been a moment since they'd met where Spencer wouldn't have wanted to spend some time with Nicole. But the Ashley situation weighed so heavy on her mind right now, it was all she could think about -- and calling her Mom was the only thing she could do right now to help her. And now of all times Nicole had chosen to...

The girl in question spoke her piece. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay after yesterday. I'm still not completely sure what happened."

At that juncture Spencer realized that whatever they said out on the corridor could be heard downstairs. While Arthur might have been fairly uninterested she didn't dare imagine that Paula wouldn't eavesdrop. So she turned and said to Nicole, "Let's go into my room."

"Oh. Okay."

They entered and Spencer closed the door behind them. The blonde girl sat on her bed, unconsciously hiding her cell phone and the numbers underneath the sheets. Nicole took a seat on the swiveling chair astride the computer desk.

"So," began Spencer. "What were we talking about?"

Nicole stared at her. "About yesterday. You running off like that?"

"...Oh."

Silence.

"Well?"

Spencer glanced up, not realizing that she'd directed her sight on her unpolished toenails. "Well...?"

"Are you going to tell me what happened back there?" She prodded. "I mean, one minute it's the four of us and we're having a great time and then poof, you're gone, and for hours at that. What the hell happened?"

If there was anything she regretted about last night it was the way she ran off and left Nicole like that. She didn't plan to do it, even if being there with Kyla and Carmen had made things uncomfortable. But as soon as she heard about Ashley she felt that instant gut reaction, that rush of momentum. You couldn't circumnavigate something like that. But how could she explain it all to Nicole now?

Spencer exhaled. "I just had to help someone. That's all."

"Yeah you said that last night and it's still pretty vague. I mean I understand if it was an emergency or something, but you should've told me. I would've come with you, I'd have tried to help."

There was no way that would happen. "...Nicole, look... I'm so sorry I ran off like that. I wasn't thinking and I swear I didn't mean for you to be worried. It won't happen again, I promise."

Then there was another pause. Nicole stopped a moment, still staring at Spencer, who ducked away from that glance in an overtly conspicuous way. But whatever qualms Nicole had about it she didn't voice, because the next thing Spencer knew, the Milligan girl was smiling again. Nicole stood up, walked over to the bed, then sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around Spencer's shoulders.

"Hey. You know what? Forget about it. As long as you're okay and you're not up to anything shifty. You're not, are you? In with the CIA? Selling cocaine? Robbing a bank?"

Spencer giggled a little, the first bit of humor she'd felt since finding out about Ashley's home life. "If I ever do any of those things then you'll be the first to know, I assure you."

"I better be," Nicole's hug tightened. "You know you seem a little stressed. You wanna step out for a little while?"

"Huh?"

"Carmen told me about that big common nearby, Cunningham Park? I was gonna go for a walk. You wanna come with me?"

Spencer then thought back a bit to the day after they first met, and remembered that Nicole had said one of her pastimes was taking morning walks to clear her head. She also remembered Nicole saying something about not doing that anymore because of someone she had 'bad memories' of. Oh how times had changed. Spencer considered it for a moment. But what about Ashley's Mom? The longer she left this the longer Ashley had to deal with her bastard father alone.

"I'm... I'm not sure..."

"Come on, you look like you could use some fresh air." Nicole cajoled.

She didn't want to go. But she was being so understanding with the whole 'abandonment at the pizzeria thing', how could she tell Nicole no? With a reluctant sigh she nodded, widening Nicole's newly returned smile.

"Cool. Lets go."

After Spencer put on some shoes she grabbed her keys, wallet and cell phone, said her goodbyes to Arthur and Paula (who she swiftly asked for permission to leave) then exited the Carlin household and embarked on a fourteen minute walk across their area to Cunningham Park; the biggest park in the district. Before long Spencer found herself walking slowly along a pebble path curving and darting around a huge common of recently sheared grass. Across that grass, even in this early morning, were young kids playing stickball and tossing footballs and stroller-armed mothers chatting with others of similar ilk by the benches. There was an ice cream truck parked up against the jungle gyms and swings of the kiddy area. All the while Spencer and Nicole strolled through the long shadows cast by the towering oak trees that surrounded their pathway, brief breaks from the heat of the sun.

Nicole shut her eyes and sniffed. "Ah. I love that smell. Grass, flowers, trees. Spring's coming."

Though Spencer was listening her eyes were trained on her watch. It was 10:48. "Yeah, it's nice."

"Well you don't sound too enthused about it."

Spencer tore her eyes from her watch. "I guess I'm just less partial to all this than you are."

"How could you be?" She replied. "Come on, you're a philosophy advocate, right? Doesn't this symbolize some brilliant things for you? New life? Birth? Creation?"

"That's not so much... philosophical as it is... Earth Mother-ish."

"Oh whatever. I'll take nature over Kant any day of the week. I always feel good this time of year. Kind of puts me in the right place for my game, you know?"

Spencer peered at her watch again. "What do you mean?"

"You know, soccer?"

"...Oh right."

Nicole put her hands behind her head. "Yeah, my first league match is next Wednesday. I'm totally stoked. I think Carmen mentioned it yesterday at Mama Giancarlo's, but... I guess you and Kyla weren't really interested."

"No, I'm... interested..." Spencer said. "I'm glad you're excited."

"Thanks. I'm still a little nervous though. Listen, do you wanna come watch the game? My Mom and Dad are gonna be there, Kyla too, rooting for Carmen. I'd be nice if you were there."

Spencer's smile was quick. "I'd love to. That sounds great."

"Cool," Then her sparkling green eyes spotted the ice cream truck across the field. "Hey, why don't I get us some ice cream?"

"...Uh, t-that's okay, you don't have to..."

Too late. Nicole was already jogging over to the truck yelling "it's my pleasure" on the way. Spencer exhaled after yet another quick glance at her watch. 10:51 am. She knew that Nicole was only being nice. And any other day she would have gushed for something like this. But she wanted this to be over so she could call Ashley's mother. It was times like this that made Spencer resent how unable she was to take a stand on anything. As much as she wanted to leave she couldn't bear to offend Nicole by doing so. Especially not after what happened yesterday. So she only waited, watching Nicole exchange some dollar bills for two cones impaled by chocolate flakes and lathered with strawberry syrup.

When she came back she handed one to Spencer. "Here"

"...Thank you," Spencer said, receiving it.

There was a bench nearby. Nicole made the suggestion that they take a seat and so they did. Nicole flopped back and went to work on her ice cream, licking voraciously. Spencer on the other hand was more tepid. Whilst sampling the milky coldness of her cone she kept staring at her watch. Eventually Nicole noticed it.

"What are you, on a curfew or something?"

"Huh?"

"You keep checking the time," The brunette's free hand pointed at her wrist watch. "What's the deal?"

Spencer a blinked. "...Oh. I, uh... I just... I have someone I need to call soon."

"Have you got your cell on you?"

"Yes."

Nicole shrugged obliviously. "Fine. Don't let me stop you, silly. Make the call."

It wasn't something she could talk about in front of her. What's more she'd left the numbers back at her house. She couldn't call Ashley's mother now anyway, even if she wanted to. Spencer was about to say something to fob that idea off but before she could the phone rang. Spencer was alarmed. It wouldn't be her parents because they knew where she was. That meant Ashley. Suddenly Spencer's sights swung in Nicole's direction. She couldn't answer the call right here and now, could she? She considered, briefly, ignoring it. But then in a flash it all came back to her; what Ashley was suffering with, how she looked back at the hospital, the maniac that she was living with. She couldn't not answer it.

"...Aren't you gonna answer it?" Asked Nicole.

Spencer nodded and heaved yet another sigh. She slipped her phone out of her pocket and flipped it open, not even bothering to check the screen for the caller's name. "...Hello?"

Sure enough, it was Ashley's voice on the other end, albeit weaker and more haggard than usual. "Hey."

"Hey," Spencer held the phone closer to her, softening a bit. "How are you?"

"I'm feeling a bit better. If you can believe it, my bed is actually more comfortable than that piece of shit thing I was lying on in the hospital yesterday. But I didn't call to talk about me. I just wanted to see how you were. Is everything okay? I mean... you're not too freaked out about everything you saw yesterday, are you?"

Spencer, conscious of Nicole sitting next to her, made sure not to let anything on about who this was, as well as making sure that Ashley didn't know who she was sitting with in the park. She had not forgotten how much Ashley and Nicole disliked each other.

"...It's okay, I'm fine..." she said, hushed. "I got back okay."

"Good. I'm glad. Listen, I know I don't have to ask this, but... you haven't told anyone about my Dad have you?"

Spencer winced. "...N-no, I haven't..."

"Okay. Thanks. Just... you know, keep it to yourself, okay?"

She offered no reply.

"... Spencer?"

"Um..." From the corner of her eye Spencer could see that Nicole had stopped licking her ice cream. "Look, I can't... really talk right now. Could you call me back later or something?"

"...Oh," A pause on Ashley's end. "Okay, uh... yeah, sure. I'll call you back around... lunchtime maybe?"

That gave her enough time. "That'd be great. I`ll... speak to you later then, okay?"

"...Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

She flipped her phone shut. It was good to hear Ashley's voice again. Her father had likely cooled off for the night. Even so it didn't change her conviction to find a way of getting Ashley away from him. Automatically, after slipping her cell phone back into her pocket, she went back to her ice cream, perhaps looking for a distraction.

Nicole was quick off the mark though. "Who was that?"

"...Just a friend."

"...Is that the friend you helped out yesterday?"

For a minute there Spencer actually had herself thinking that she was better at covering her tracks than this. But if this was anything it was a tribute to Nicole's intelligence. She wasn't easily fooled. What's worse was that this wasn't the first time she had been forced to lie to Nicole either. One thing troubling Spencer about her life right now was the way she constantly had to skirt this razor thin line between Ashley and Nicole. At the least it was frustrating and at the most it was infuriating. In earnest Spencer was getting sick and tired of it. The only alternative was to see them at each other's throats though, and she just couldn't take that again. Not now.

"Yes," Spencer confirmed.

They said no more about it. Nicole seemed to realize that Spencer didn't want to. They then spent the next hour there, walking, talking and eating ice cream, before Spencer finally told her that she needed to go. Nicole agreed to walk her home. So they went back to their street, gave each other a goodbye, and returned to their respective houses. As soon as Spencer was behind her door she exhaled.

This was the only occasion she had ever willing rushed her time with Nicole. But there was something more important to do. Spencer told her Mom she was back (Arthur had already left for his morning shift at the hospital) before scrambling up to her bedroom and locking the door. She snatched the note of numbers from under her pillow and withdrew her cell phone again. Spencer gave herself a few minutes to think through what she was going to say, and then dialed their house phone number.