A/N: I'm on a roll with this story, and that usually happens before I crash and burn with no ideas for two months :) Anyway, the italics are flashbacks. Also, Harbor Hills, Ohio, is a real town. I just used it because it had a cool name. This story in no way reflects any of the views of the people in Harbor Hills and isn't meant to offend them.

Disclaimer: If it were mine, there would be more Spashley.

I spent all of that Sunday sprawled out over my bed, studying. Studying, studying, studying. Lots of studying. I'm an education major. I plan on being a high school English teacher. I've always loved kids. They're so fun and uninhibited, full of wonderment and questions, without prejudices. But if I wanted those kind of kids, I should have been an elementary school teacher. High schoolers are people; no longer kids. There's this stupid thought inside of me that maybe somewhere deep down, they still are kids. And if you leave in the right light for long enough, they'll always be kids. It's more of a wish than a thought, really. And wishes were never meant to come true.

Ashley left over an hour ago, to go and do something besides study. She's gone out to beach, I know. To sketch. Ashley's an art major, but she really loves photography, too. And music. The only thing she's not good at are any types of science. She leaves to sketch sometimes when she needs to clear her head, though I can't imagine what she needs to clear from it.

My phone rings, and the caller ID says it's my brother Clay, the only one from Ohio I still talk to.

"Hi, Clay. What's up?"

He chuckles. "Just calling to check up on my baby sister. How are finals going?"

I shrug. I know that he can't see me, but I tend to make motions when I talk on the phone. "Okay. Just two more left."

"That's good." He lets the silence hang over us for a moment, and I don't break it, because I know he has something to say. "Spencer, look, I know that... What are you doing this summer?"

I scrunch up my eyebrows, confused. I hadn't been expecting that. "Ashley and I are probably going to hang out at her place, maybe do a road trip. I don't know exactly. We haven't really talked about it. Why?"

"Because I want you to come home," he says plainly. And when he says anything that plainly, I can't resist. He just sounds so sad and needy.

"But I don't want to." It's incredibly selfish thing to say, I know, but going back means opening all the wounds I've worked so hard to stitch shut. And I don't know if I ready for the stitches to come out yet.

"Spencer." He has his serious voice on now, and I know that he needs me to come home. "I've only seen you three times over the past five years. Your nephew only knows you through pictures. I don't want him to grow up with Glen as his uncle, and no Aunt Spencer. I'm not asking you to see Mom or Dad or Glen and her, but I want to see you.We want to see you. Me and Chelsea and Chris. Besides." I hear his tone change. "I want to see your girlfriend, too."

I squeal into the phone. "Clay! Ashley is not my girlfriend!" I sigh. "She doesn't even know I'm gay."

"Spencer, you live in LA. Nobody gives a shit. You came out in small town, Harbor Hills, Ohio. I think the fast-paced eccentric LA people won't care. And isn't Ashley a lesbian?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "But you don't get it, Clay. Sure to a degree, you can understand, but at some point, you can't."

"I know that. But hiding forever, is that how you want to live? You'll never be happy that way. And you can only get over that by coming home."

"I have to go." I hang up on him, slamming the phone shut. I bury my head into my pillow, letting tears fall down. I know he's right. I've known that for about three years. I desperately want to get back to being me, but it's hard. LA is so much more vague, less personal than Ohio. Everything is so chaotic, no one has any time to focus on individuals. In Ohio, in Harbor Hills, there's only about 1500 people. There's time to see the individuals. And that's what scares me.

But if I go back to Clay and Chelsea's house, it won't matter. I'll stay there, and I won't leave. I can meet my nephew, and see them. I could pretend that it wasn't Ohio. With Ashley there, it could be anywhere we wanted it to be. Until the town figures out that I'm back. I don't know.

I've spent the entire morning studying and thinking, and want a break. I debate about going over to Ashley on the beach, since I can't call her because she always turns her cell phone off at those times, but decided against it. Ashley's time is Ashley's time, and she doesn't need her whiny best friend interrupt it. I try to think about who I could call that wouldn't be studying, and finally come up with one person who never studies and believes that finals are a waste of time. It doesn't really matter how well she does at college, anyway: she's already got dance offers from lots of famous people, and a college education isn't always high on their qualifications list.

"Hey, chica," the voice on the other end says happily. "I'm guessing someone's ready for a study break?"

I laugh. "Yes, Madison, I am. Sick of studying to be a teacher."

"Good. Then I'll meet you at Park and Joe's in ten." She hangs up, knowing I won't disagree. I never turn down an invitation to Park and Joe's, a little deli-ice cream shop only a couple of steps from my dorm. It's my favorite restaurant in the entire city, even better than the really fancy ones Ashley sometimes treats me to on our Friday night "dates."

I throw on some real shorts and then head out the door after sticking a note for Ashley on her desk. LA is busy in the near summer, and I just like to watch the people passing by. Everyone calls me a slow walker- mostly Ashley, who complains about it. But I'm not. I just like to look at the people. I wonder who they are, how they got here, what's waiting for them at the end of their walk. Sometimes I think I wonder too much.

Madison is waiting for me in front of Park and Joe's. She must have already been there. Probably on a lunch date with some guy. She goes through boys like I go through pencils, maybe even faster. "Hey there, study girl. Where's the GF?"

I roll my eyes. Because Ashley and I are stuck at the hip, Madison calls us girlfriends. As in the dating type of girlfriend. "Out on the beach."

"She can be so anti-social," Madison deadpans, and then ruins the effect with a laugh. "Let's get some food."

We order and sit at an outdoor table, under an umbrella. She's chatting endlessly about her new boy toy. I'm watching the people go by.

White middle-aged man with brown hair and a calm smile, dressed in a suit.

Young black woman in a stylish outfit walking with a purpose.

Red haired teenage white boy in punk clothes and on a skateboard.

Purple spiky haired Asian teenage girl dressed in black trailing the red head on a bike.

"Spencer. Spencer!" Madison waves her hand in front of my face, looking concerned. "What's up with you? You haven't eaten, you won't talk. And it's almost summer!"

I shake my head looking down. "That's the problem. I don't know what I'm going to do with myself this summer."

"Just do what you always do," she states with a shrug, taking a salt and vinegar chip from my plate. She makes a face. "Seriously, you have weirdest taste in chips."

"I don't know if I only want to hang out with Ashley this year." And it was true. It's not like I don't want to spend time with Ashley; I just want to go back to Ohio. It's been five years since it's really been Ohio, and I've been missing it for a while. I feel like taking Ashley to Ohio would be the making or breaking point of my life. Ohio is one half of me, and Ashley is the other. Right now, they're at odds with each other. I can't have them both the way they are; they need be harmonious, or Ashley will have to leave, because no matter how hard I try, I'll never be able to get rid of Ohio.

"Oh?" Madison raises her eyebrows and looks at me intently.

"Yeah," I mutter slowly, not really looking at her. "I think... I think I might want to go back to Ohio."

Madison is silent. She knows more about Ohio than anyone else, including Ashley. But even Madison doesn't know the full story. All I've told her is that there's some bad blood back there, and I don't want to go back.

She swallows and asks a simple question: "Why?"

I sigh. Cliché as it may sound, the simplest questions really do have the hardest answers. Clay's talk this morning made me realize that I need to revisit these old demons, but I don't know if I can. I think on it for a while, and Madison doesn't say anything to break the peace, the bubble surrounding the two of us, blocking us from the LA lifestyle. Bringing me back to Ohio.

"C'mon, Spence," Dad said happily, urging me to go play with the other kids. I was ten, and shy as anything. "They're really nice." I shook my head, holding tight to him. I looked over at the group of fifth graders, most of who I recognized from my class. Even though I'd be going into sixth grade next year, I hadn't developed very good social skills.

"I'm taking away your dessert for a week if you don't go talk to them," Dad threatened.

I stared at him with Bambi eyes, silently pleading for him not to send me. "I mean it , Spencer."

"Fine," I grumbled, stalking off toward the kids. Because no matter how scared I was of those kids, there was no way I would miss a week of the post-July 4th desserts Mom made with the left-overs from everything she baked for the barbecue, which, by the way, was where I was at that moment.

I reached the group of kids, playing tag. One of them, Bobby Rinker, spotted me and asked, "Hey, Spencer, you wanna play?"

I nodded silently, timidly.

"Okay," Bobby said. "It's regular tag, and Marcus is it. If you get it, you gotta yell your name real loud so everybody knows, 'kay?" I nodded again and then Bobby ran off. I didn't really know what to do. I just stood around, until I noticed Marcus coming for me. Luckily, he didn't see me, and I took off in the other direction.

I ran around for awhile, until I found a tree that could easily be climbed. Not feeling much like running from the boy with snottiest nose in the school and being touched by his icky fingers, I grabbed onto the branches and hoisted myself up.

In the tree, I was met with the shock of seeing Luke Miller's face. Luke was my best friend. He didn't act tough like most boys at the school; he had an open personality and wasn't afraid to cry in front of the class like the other boys. He played pretend with me, even though everyone teased us for it.

"I didn't know you were here," Luke said to me.

"Same," I returned. Then I noticed another girl sitting in the tree next to Luke. She had long red, curly hair and bright green eyes. Freckles dotted her face, and her light pink top and jeans were covered with grass stains and dirt.

Luke seemed to get that I didn't recognize the girl. "Oh. Spencer, this is Elle. Elle, this is Spencer. Elle just moved here. She's in our grade."

"Hi," I said, all the air going out of my lungs when she smiled. Luke, oblivious to the tension, just kept talking about Elle.

"She's from Indiana and likes-"

"Luke," Elle interrupted. "I think I can tell Spencer about myself. By myself." We smiled at each other, and the world felt right.