Not Going Anywhere
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters featured on South of Nowhere, and only own the few that I created.
Alright people, Chapter 9. I'm so so sorry it took so long, but you wouldn't believe my life lately. I was on a technology-less retreat almost all of last week, and thanksgiving and other occasions have been taking over my time. I'm gonna try and have the next one up within the next two days, cause now I'm off on thanksgiving break . Anyway, I'm terribly sorry for any mistakes or things that don't seem to make sense in here – I was literally high when I wrote part of it, so hopefully it's okay. I did a quick proofread and it seems coherent, at least. I'll go back over and edit later. Anyway, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but we'll see. Let me know what you guys think! Your feedback means so much to me – its very encouraging.
Chapter 9 – Calm Before the Storm
It was 8:02 and still no sign of her. I'm trying my hardest to look chill, but it's awfully hard when your heart is banging your ribs to pieces, anticipating the center of your life actually coming into your midst. My eyes were fixated intensely on the door, repeatedly going through a cycle of hearing someone coming, then having my hopes fall when it wasn't her. Breathe, I command myself. Its been two minutes. That's not very late. I tried to calm myself, but there were too many emotions attempting to control me. It was like having 10 dominating personalities in one small, windowless room. Anxiety. Excitement. Fear. Anger. Happiness. Sadness. Betrayal. Nervousness. Desperation. They all screamed at me at the top of their lungs, each moment bringing me closer to some undecided dramatic gesture that I was sure I'd regret later.
I stared down at my twiddling thumbs, wondering what I would do… what I would say when she got here. Would I just say hi and initiate conversation like she hadn't abandoned me those months ago? I wasn't sure I could ignore the gaping black hole she had punched through my chest. Where do I even go from here? Do I tell her that she can't be in my life anymore? My mind quibbled violently with questions, just adding to the symphony of noise blaring discordantly in this cranium of mine.
8:07. Still no Ashley. My heart rate quickened with each passing minute. I could feel my forehead pulsating, beads of sweat clinging to my forehead. I demanded myself to calm down once more. I couldn't bear it if Ashley came down here and saw me in this state.
I looked around at the other kids to try and ease my mind. Different cliques sat at different tables, eating their breakfast over gossip. I overheard them discussing plans for tomorrow night. Thank God tomorrow was Friday. Was this the week from hell or what?
My phone suddenly buzzed in my pocket, shaking me from the only non-Ashley thought I'd had all morning, and bringing me to the first Avery thought of the morning.
'Hey Spence, where are you?' the text read. Do I tell her? I mean she told me I could talk to her.
'Running a little late this morning. See you at lunch' I replied, typing hastily. I lied. Why? Because I didn't want Avery to ask me about it until after I had everything sorted out. If I didn't have a game plan after this meeting, I didn't want her to interrogate me based on an unmade plan. That was somewhat fair… right?
8:11. Where was she? We only had 19 minutes until the start of classes. In hindsight I should have scheduled this at a different time, given us more than just a half hour. There was no way we could discuss all that we needed to in a half hour. Well, unless I just told her I couldn't communicate with her anymore –
And my thoughts were stolen from their rapidly changing focuses so quickly that I think my brain got whiplash. Shuffling into the cafeteria was the girl I'd been waiting for. The center of my world. Her feet patted the floor in quick intervals, the laces of her sneakers tapping the floor and echoing in my suddenly supersonic ears. Her jeans clung flatteringly to her perfect legs. Hugging her upper half was a tight midriff shirt with a vest hanging over her shoulders. One look at her abs caused my breath to catch, but that was nothing compared to what happened when I looked at her face. If that was my breath catching, this time my breath freaking died. It had a heart attack and keeled over. Her amber brown eyes peered out at me from darkened eye makeup. The morning light caught them as she walked toward me, causing them to seem deeper and even more enticing. Her lips were pressed into a line, and her eyebrows were furrowed slightly in what looked like a flustered expression.
"Spencer, I'm so sorry I'm late," she panted, "I…uh… didn't get much sleep last night, so when I finally passed out I totally overslept" It took me a few seconds to register what she had said, I was so flustered by just her presence near me… welcome, for the first time in so long. How was she so cool about all of this? My eyes clung to hers in a distant stare that I couldn't shake. I didn't think I could breathe, let alone speak.
"Its fine." Somehow the words formed. They were dead, though, toneless and seemingly uncaring. I internally laughed at how directly opposite that was to what I actually felt. She didn't look at me as I said this, but began wrestling something out of her bag. My eyes flicked between the concentrated look on her face and her bag. What was she getting out? From between two binders I could see her fingers gripping and pulling at a piece of paper. Back to her face – her eyebrows were furrowed in a way that made my heart skip a beat. I had forgotten how beautiful she was – how the little facial expressions sent me reeling. It suddenly occurred to me that a silence had entered between us unnoticed. Upon realizing, I found it to be thick – suffocating. What do I say? Was she bothered by it as much as I was? The silence was broken with a little ripping sound.
"Shit." She muttered quickly, under her breath. No sooner, the source of the ripping sound was before her on our table: the piece of paper. From what I could see, there existed many scribbles and erasing splotches – obviously something that had been written and edited many times over. "Um, okay, so where should I start?" She asked in a way that I could only assume was rhetoric. She didn't expect an answer, did she? "Good God, what was the point of even doing this if I can't decide what to say?" She exclaimed, frustrated. She yanked at the edges of the crinkled paper and slammed it back down onto the table. "Okay, I" – she stopped abruptly. Her eyes lifted and truly met mine for the first time all morning. They locked together forcefully, binding my body and mind to their current states until something happened to break this paralysis. I was frozen in her gaze, and I think she was in mine – her mouth hung open as if poised to say something, but words weren't arriving. Her amber brown eyes bore unblinking into my own blue ones, searching them for some familiarity, probably provoking in her the bittersweet mental chain of memories that had haunted me for all of these months. "I, uh…" She stammered, trying and failing to collect herself. "I don't know where to start." She whispered, her eyes still holding fast to mine with an eerie intensity. I could feel myself gaping, staring blankly, but frankly, I wasn't sure I could muster the strength for much else. "I'm so sorry, Spencer" She whispered so quietly; I had to strain to hear it. At this my eyes dropped to the table surface. I don't know what it was about hearing her apologize… hearing it from her own velvety voice, but something inside of me shut down. My hands shook slightly, my palms facing up with the backs against the cold table top, which had seemingly just become colder.
A new silence fell between us, but this time it was one of discomfort. I didn't want to look at her.
"How could you have done that to me, Ash?" There it was. I said it lowly, my voice breaking a little. I finally raised my glance again, reuniting with her tantalizing eyes that were now glazed with tears. She was shaking her head back and forth, her lower lip quivering. She looked as if she was fending off sobs. Her hands flew up into her hair, her elbows on the table and it looked as if she wanted to press her head in.
"I don't know, Spence," she whimpered in a whisper, her eyes still intent on my own. "I wish I had a real answer for you, but I don't. Nothing can justify what I did." I thanked God that she didn't whip out the old 'I don't do death well'. I think that I may have just gotten up and walked away. Alas, she did not. She took a few breaths and wiped her face without averting her gaze. Her mouth opened and paused for a moment before speaking, "I'm actually surprised that you're here."
"So am I." I replied after a few seconds of silence. Though I was sure she knew that already, I couldn't help but notice slight recoil, as if hearing it somehow stung her. The pained look on her face caused a welling anxiety in my chest. The desperation in her glossy eyes inexplicably hurt me. I know it shouldn't have – for I had been hurt much worse in this situation - but it did nonetheless. "But here I am" I said quickly, smiling nervously. It was so subtle, but I saw her face light up. Seeing the corners of her lips turn up allowed me to breathe again. For the first time in seemingly an eternity, her eyes came off of mine, as she wiped them dry.
"Here you are." She smiled, wiping the last tear trail from her blushing cheek. My God she was beautiful. In the long silence that followed, the only activity taking place was in our eyes. I searched hers – what was she feeling? Swimming in those brown orbs I could see a mixture of things: happiness, longing, gratitude, sadness, hope. It was only what was behind it all that scared me. Her eyes were slightly distant, slightly empty. It was in that moment that Kyla's story became true for me – I could see it right before my eyes. The emptiness was still there, and it devastated me. This silence had just gone from comfortable to frigid. I had to say something; Take my mind off of this broken girl before me.
"And so are you, as you said you would be" I smiled, reflecting on her promise not to go anywhere, and remembering the unwelcome circumstance in which it transpired. "What is this?" I asked, simultaneously snatching the crinkled paper from beneath her palm.
"Oh, it's nothing, don't," – but it was too late. My eyes were already roving over the weathered page, my curiosity piqued. There existed a myriad of scribbles, some areas poorly erased and still showing an apparition of the words that were once written. Much of the writing was obviously done in haste and illegible to me, but some parts were okay.
'Say sorry first' it said on one line. The next couple were unreadable. 'bash yourself and tell her how you don't deserve her' was the next coherent statement. 'apologize for the way you approached her on Monday – and about Aiden' I cringed upon reading the foul name. Some notes were scribbled and crossed out below that. 'tell her again how sorry you are, and then say what you mean to her. DON'T bring out the L word. It's good enough that she's even listening. Don't scare her off.' I suppressed a smile. The L word was still as real to me as it was to her. If she only knew. 'try to use big words' was the final note that I could read. I laughed internally at that part. I wished so much that I could read the rest, but I wasn't sure that those words were salvageable.
I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks, the smile creeping onto my lips. She had really thought about this. It was so… cute? I looked up and found that her face burned scarlet as a tomato. I quickly handed her paper back to her and wiped the smile off my face. Her head fell and she placed her fists against her temples.
"Don't be embarrassed," I said quietly. "It's sweet." Once more, that defeated smile crept onto her face, and I felt my heart flutter once more.
"Well, even though you've seen it, I'd still like to say it all." She insisted. I wasn't going to stop her.
"Well go ahead, then" I said, smiling. Why was I smiling? I shouldn't be smiling – this was the girl who punched a hole through my chest, remember?
I tried to remind myself of the reasons why I shouldn't be even the littlest bit happy, but those thoughts were gently plucked from my brain as I allowed her scent to penetrate my mind. Her very presence was intoxicating – how I ever got anything done around her, I'll never know. It was as if all of my grievances with her were numbed while she was around me. The back of my mind noted that this probably wasn't healthy, but the happy and frenzied side of my mind ignored the irritating side comments.
"Well," pulling me from my trance, she spoke - looking down at her newly returned tattered paper. "I guess I'll start with why I don't deserve to even talk to you." I could practically know what she was about to say. The weird part was, I wanted to hear it from her, and even though I was going to agree with all of her points, I knew I would still want to be here, sitting in her enthralling wake.
Her eyes seemed to search my face for a moment, as if expecting an answer, maybe permission to omit all of that. Unfortunately for her, I wanted to hear every word. When she received nothing, she continued, "Well, I guess we'll begin with that night." I knew exactly to which she referred. "I hope you know that I never would have chosen him. I was just… confused. And… and just taken off guard. I wish you weren't there to see that moment of deliberation, because if allowed just a second to digest, I would have picked you faster than the blink of an eye. You have no idea how much I wish you knew" – I had to interrupt her.
"Ashley," the smile had faded from my face. "You don't get it at all. I mean, you only get part of it. That's not even what hurt me the most." I said, feeling anger creep up on me. I felt the progress in my mood slipping away. She leered at me from beneath furrowed eyebrows then spoke up.
"I know it's not. Let me finish." She snapped almost angrily. She looked remorseful as quickly as she had piped up. "I'm sorry, it's just that I've been waiting to say this to you for so long. I know that's not all. Its not nearly the worst of it. Its just where I'm starting." My nerves had been temporarily quelled. Man, I was exhibiting the mood swings of a girl with bipolar disorder. My army of emotion was on standby, now, ready to attack at the drop of a hat. I nodded, urging her to continue. "Anyway, I would have picked you without a second thought. When the shooting" – she saw me wince at the word. "When it happened, something snapped in me. All of the drama… it just… got to me. I fled. I was selfish, I was cruel, I was uncaring, and all I did was think about me, and how I was scared. I was scared for Aiden and for Clay, and then once I heard what happened to Clay, I was scared for you. I didn't know how to comfort you, and I just didn't know what to do. I didn't know then that all I needed to be was a shoulder to cry on, a friend. The answer at the time was plane tickets, and to this day I don't know why. It was an awful idea, and all I did the entire time was cry over you. When I came home from that dismal mistake, you wouldn't talk to me, and I completely understood. That didn't make it any easier, though." I saw a flicker of fear in her eyes, probably remembering the way she crumbled. She didn't even know that I knew that side of the story. "I was okay, though," she continued, lying. "After that I just didn't know how to get you to look at me again, let alone talk to me. The worst part was, I knew I didn't deserve it, but I wanted you so badly regardless. And the more I wanted you back, the more sickened I got with myself. I uh…" She swallowed "I had yet another temporary lapse in judgment, when I thought that I was doing you justice by leaving you alone. I got together with Aiden for a little while" – she could see the trace of disgust on my face, despite my attempt to stifle it. "It was just a mistake. It wasn't fair to you, or even to him. It was never going to go anywhere, but I was just so tired of being alone. I also wanted to apologize for that, because the way we encountered on Monday makes my stomach lurch with guilt. You should never have seen that… Hell, that just should never have happened, and I never expect you to forgive me. The instant I saw you though, it was like something switched back on in me that had been dead for a long time. I rationally looked at the somewhat relationship that I was in, and therefore called it off." She paused, breathing. Her eyes roved over my face, searching for some kind of answer or response. I tried my hardest to prevent any emotion from crawling onto my face, but I think I tried too hard and it came out more like a grimace. "I didn't call it off because I expected you to get back together with me. I didn't and I don't expect that. I really just wanted to clear the air – it killed me that there was still this tension between us, and while I'm not sure I can ever make it go away, I wanted you to know how sorry I am, for what it's worth" Her eyes still rested on my face, not having moved since she began talking. It's kind of pathetic, but the first thing I thought to say was,
"And you barely had to look at your paper". I let a small smile onto my lips, and she reflected a similar one, beneath bashfully rosy cheeks. There was a silence that hung between us now, but it was comfortable and full. I basked in her eyes and I don't think I'd felt quite so warm in a long time.
"Well, what do you think?" She finally asked. My forehead began to burn. I didn't know how to answer this for myself, let alone for her. My mind swam with a multitude of thoughts, each one shoving the other down like the drowning passengers of titanic seen at the end of the movie. I prided myself for a moment on the drowning reference, because that was nearly just how I felt.
"I"- I guess it was a blessing in disguise that the morning bell chimed at this very moment, because my lips were groping for words that didn't seem to come. A blessing and a curse, for I wasn't sure I was ready to leave that warm feeling of being before her eyes. Being in her presence was like relapsing into a drug addiction that you'd forgotten you had. The sweet high was all too alluring to walk away from. We sat, staring at one another for at least another minute, as all of the other kids filed out of the cafeteria in some disorganized fashion. They were all headed to class, and I knew I should be going if I didn't want to get a late slip, and thus a potential detention. "I guess I should go", I said, despite the words' cutting edge pushed into my own skin. I didn't want to go. Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked at me incredulously for a moment.
"Seriously?" She nearly whispered. I was a little baffled at how taken aback she looked. "You had only planned on talking to me for a half hour? Jeez, when you told me what time we'd meet I kind of assumed that we'd talk for a bit longer than that." What was she trying to say?
"You mean cut class?" I asked, the words reverberating in my mind. She then gave me a look as if to say 'Duh'. "I can't, I swear if I get another detention I'll die." Sure, a little dramatic, but whatever.
"Oh, I didn't realize that little Spencer Carlin was still a goody two shoes" She teased, a smirk playing at her lips. I felt my face redden.
"A little soon to be teasing me, don't you think? I mean I just agreed to talk to you again." I said quickly. I intended for it to come out in a jocular tone, but it ended up sounding serious, and I think she looked a little stung by it. "Well, for the record, little Spencer Carlin hasn't changed much" I inserted, cutting the tension I'd just caused. The small smile on her face was all the relief I needed.
"Alright then, well, lets go." She said decisively, standing and readying herself to leave.
"Go where?"
"We've done it once, we can do it again." She said, turning around, still not answering my question.
"Done what?" I piped up. I could see her roll her eyes playfully, and then she grabbed my wrist. What transpired, I can't exactly explain, but I'll try. It was like an electric current flying from her fingertips up through my arm. It acted as a jumpstart cable to my heart, which began beating erratically and sputtering. The place where her hand was touching mine became warmly numb in a matter of milliseconds. My eyes shot to hers, which held the same wide expression as my own. Without even thinking, I snapped my wrist back to my side, leaving her hand empty and alone. I instinctively touched with my other hand the spot where her hand had just been, all the while maintaining severe eye contact with her. We stood there for a few moments, trying to make sense of that strange contact, and I knew I had to get the ball rolling. "Done what?" I repeated again. She took a moment to recollect herself, blinking hard a few times.
"The beach. Remember that day?" I shut my eyes, as if doing so would barricade the memory from rushing into my mind. I wasn't ready for that one yet. That one memory that I'd replayed dozens of times in dreams – the day that started it all. I wasn't ready to consciously revisit that day, quite yet.
"I can't." I said quietly but firmly, my eyes still shut. I tried to keep the stress off of my face, but I felt my lower lip creeping beneath my top teeth. I guess she saw the seriousness on my face, because she didn't push it.
"Alright," she conceded, "but we can't go to class." She maintained. I opened my eyes again and saw that look – the wild one that I'd so come to miss. The flame had ignited in her eyes, and I knew there was no way I could decline her. That very flame burned bright in me right now, and I would do almost anything to feed it.
"Where to, then?" I saw her face noticeably light up. She flashed a beaming smile at me, and her cheeks burned endearingly.
"How does the baseball field dug-out sound? No one ever goes out there." It couldn't have sounded better if she told me that there were ice cream sundaes waiting for us. I couldn't explain even to myself, the excited surge that occurred in my stomach.
"The dug-out it is." I said definitively, despite my indecision about these circumstances. Ashley's smile persevered, and I guessed that it was a welcome guest on her face; one who hadn't paid a visit in a while. It looked for a moment as if she was thinking of grabbing my hand, but I shoved them into the safety of my pockets. The smile undeterred, she proceeded out of the cafeteria with me nipping at her heels. Her sweet smell encompassed me, and I thought for a moment that I might pass out. It was so familiar and yet so missed; accompanied by a chain of memories that I didn't quite know what to make of.
My mind swirled like the ebb and flow of a current, my often-conflicting thoughts overlapping one another in some strange collage of emotion. I was cutting class. With Ashley Davies. With my Ashley. I couldn't decide whether the jolt in my stomach upon the word 'my' was a good or bad thing. Probably bad, considering that she wasn't mine. Part of me knew that I shouldn't even be here talking to her. She really didn't deserve that, much less my smiles. In one way, I felt like I was stepping onto a landmine, throwing myself into harms way. I wondered what Avery would think – would she be angry at me for cutting class to be with her? She had told me to sort things out, so I guess I would fit this under that category. It was a stretch, I knew, but I had to assure myself somehow. Despite everything, my heart's survival instincts telling me to freeze in my tracks, I went on. With each step I felt the increasing inability to turn back. I was too invested… too wrapped up in her. As her grip on my heart tightened like a noose around my neck, I couldn't help but feel… elated.