So...I'm an idiot...I put the exact wrong date in the flashback. My bad...
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my ideas...
Chapter 4: What Hurts the Most?
Angry clouds enveloped the Arizona sun, masking the supposed-to-be blue skies. Lightning cracked the sky like a whip, and seconds later, thunder echoed its bass drum beats through the heavens. Below the heavy gray, rain pelted the vehicles of irritated drivers traveling west on I-40.
In the midst of the frustrated, Ashley groaned as the windshield wipers moved feverishly along the window in attempt to clear the glass.
Needless to say, it didn't help.
She contemplated pulling over until the storm ended. Or at least until the rain diminished. But she didn't know how long it would take—she had already been traveling six days—and within the hour she would be entering the state of California, back to her birthplace, back to her friends, and back to…
Well, she didn't know exactly what she was expecting, but she knew what she wanted—and that was enough for her.
So Ashley continued to drive through the all too familiar scene as it brought about an all too painful past.
***
May 25, 2000
Ashley sat on her bed, head resting against the headboard, veins coursing with anticipation, as she looked at the envelopes in front of her. It was far too soon, she thought, for her to get an answer. Sure it's been a couple of months, but it must've been too soon. And both at the same time? Impossible.
But there they sat on the kitchen counter that afternoon , greeting her after school. Two unopened white envelopes addressed to 'Miss Ashley Davies'.
Ashley had found them hours ago. It was almost six o'clock now and still they sat, unopened. But that was ridiculous, the brunette realized after a while. Sure she didn't have the genius of Einstein, but she wasn't stupid—her GPA was a 3.8. And her audition for Juilliard went very well in her opinion. It was an original piece she performed, and her mom, as neglectful as she was, said she enjoyed it with sincerity when she performed it for her. Her SAT scores weren't too bad—1410 on a 1600 scale—and her ACT was alright with a 30. So what was she worried about?
She grabbed the envelope to her right and ripped it open. It was Juilliard, she noticed, and quickly scanned the letter:
Congratulations! We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted…
Ashley squealed with excitement before grabbing her phone and dialing a number she knew all too well. It only rang once before Spencer answered.
"Hey, Ash—"
"Spencer! Guess what came in the mail!" the brunette squealed, earning a hearty laugh from Spencer.
"Well, judging by your excitement, I would have to say your letter from Juilliard…Wait—you got in!?"
"Yup! Isn't that great?"
Ashley's question was greeted by brief silence before Spencer gave a half-hearted answer.
"Yea…it's wonderful! I'm proud of you Ash."
"Spencer, what's—"
"Ashley, I'm gonna call you back. Mom's calling me."
"Spence—"
"Bye." Click.
Ashley rested her head against the headboard once more. She wasn't totally naïve. She knew Spencer didn't want her to leave, and to be perfectly honest, she didn't want to leave Spencer either.
The brunette looked to the second envelope resting on her bed—UCLA. Ashley had kept it a secret. She wanted to surprise the blonde if she had been accepted. And if she hadn't?
Well, she didn't want to give her best friend false hope.
Ashley reached for the envelope, tearing it open carefully this time, and peeled the letter from its protector. She scanned it briefly, looking for the sentence that would tell her everything.
After a moment, she slid the letter back inside the envelope, grabbed her keys, and entered the thunderstorm brewing over her head as she climbed into her BMW to see her best friend in person.
Spencer had known the moment she hung up, Ashley would be on her way to her house.
And as she heard her mother yell that, "Ashley's here!" almost twenty minutes after their brief phone conversation, it came as no surprise to her.
"Hey," Ashley greeted from behind her as the brunette entered the kitchen.
"Hey," the blonde said quietly. She rinsed off the plate in her hand before placing it in the dishwasher.
"Can we talk?"
Spencer turned to face her, back leaning against the counter. Ashley was still standing under the kitchen doorframe, damp curls loosely residing on her shoulder and dressed in a white Cami and skinny jeans. The look was simple, but it seemed to fit her. It always fit her.
"We are talking," Spencer said simply, as she crossed her arms against her chest. Ashley shook her head.
"Spence…please don't do this."
Spencer sighed in quick defeat. Ashley just knew her too damn well.
"Alright..."
Ashley nodded, allowing Spencer to walk past her, and followed her up the stairs to her room. Upon entering, Ashley closed the door behind her, before sitting next to Spencer on her bed.
"So…" Spencer started, atmosphere already heavy.
Ashley sighed again. "You know I hate when you do that."
"Do what?" Spencer asked in faux confusion.
"That! You're avoiding me," Ashley accused, hurt evident in her voice.
Spencer looked away from her. "Sorry," she muttered softly.
"Look, Spencer—"
"I don't want you to leave, Ash." Spencer whispered as she looked into Ashley's chocolate orbs, eyes filled with intense hope.
"I know—"
"No, you don't know. You just…you can't."
"Spence I—"
"Why did you stop tellin' me that you love me?"
Ashley looked at her, shocked. Where did this come from?
"What are you talkin' about, Spence?"
"You've always told me you love me…but you don't say it anymore. I wanna know why."
Ashley stood up, away from Spencer. How was she supposed to tell her why? They were only three little words, but the truth behind them…it was too much for Ashley. She had to lessen the pain somehow and exiling those three words from her vocabulary seemed to help a little bit.
But only a little.
"You know I care about you, Spence. You're my best friend."
Spencer shook her head. "Then say it."
Ashley didn't respond.
"Why do you tense up when I touch you?"
Ashley flushed. Spencer had noticed that? Of course she did. Every hug, Ashley cut short.
Every time Spencer grabbed the brunette's hands, Ashley pulled them back. Every touch, Ashley quietly rejected. And it hurt.
Both of them.
Ashley stayed silent again as Spencer stood up, making her way, painfully slow, to her best friend.
"Why did you stop sleeping over?"
It was true. Ashley no longer spent her nights cuddled up with her best friend. Every time Spencer had asked, Ashley came up with a different excuse. And it pained her. It pained both of them.
Far too much.
Spencer was face to face with Ashley, ocean blue eyes boring into brown ones as if searching for answers. She brought a finger to Ashley's cheek and began trailing her jaw line. Ashley's breath quickened, heart thumping wildly, as she wondered how she could possibly stand on the jello that had become of her legs.
"Why do you close your eyes every time I'm near you." Spencer said, voice barely above a whisper.
This is where Spencer was wrong. It wasn't every time. She could never shut out Spencer completely. It was only when she was overcome with the urge to kiss her. To kiss the plump lips that didn't belong to her.
That had never belonged to her.
"Why does it hurt me so damn much?" Spencer muttered, almost inaudibly.
But Ashley heard it. She heard it as if she screamed it.
And it scared her.
"I have to go," Ashley muttered, before quickly turning around and opening the door to exit the bedroom. For a second, Spencer was too shocked to move, but, as thunder boomed across the sky, Spencer shot down the stairs and into the rain.
"Why won't you answer my questions!" Spencer yelled to Ashley as lightning cracked the sky above them.
Ashley stopped the travel to her car, turning abruptly, before marching back to Spencer.
"I—Spence you know I care about you! Please let that be enough." Ashley's voice broke, tears mingling with the heavy rain against her cheek.
"Ashley, just answer me! Please!" Spencer pleaded.
"I can't," Ashley muttered dejectedly.
"Why not?!" Spencer challenged.
"Spen—"
"Just tell me, Ashley! I don't want excuses!"
"Dammit, Spence!" Lightning split the sky once more as the two became silent. Both were soaked in rain, and as Ashley took a second to take in the
view, she couldn't help but want Spencer even more.
"Just tell me, Ash," Spencer pleaded once more, voice broken. Ashley said nothing, and a split second later, Spencer turned to walk back into her house, wet and defeated.
"It's too real for me, Spence," Ashley finally said, raspy voice wavering through her confession. "I can't tell you I love you, because it's too real."
Spencer stopped, heart beating wildly, but didn't turn around.
It was the moment of truth.
"Every time I said it, I just wanted to be with you. I wanted you to tell me that you love me back, but I wanted it to be real—as real as it was, as it is, for me. I wanted you to tell me that you were in love with me, just like I've been in love with you for the last eight years."
Ashley paused for a moment, as she walked closer to Spencer.
"You're second question? I can't touch you without wanting to hold on to you forever, without wanting to somehow permanently attach myself to you so I can always feel the high I'm on when I'm near you. And I guess that answers your next question—I can't lay with you without wanting to hold you in my arms for the rest of my life—of our lives—because every time I'm with you like that, I feel like there is an 'us'. And I know that's not right because you were with Mike. And when it wasn't Mike, it was some other guy."
Ashley stood behind Spencer, lightly turning her to face her, as she neared the end of her confession. "As for the next question…I guess it's somewhat obvious." Ashley cupped Spencer's wet cheek with her right hand, thumb brushing lightly on the blonde's lips. "I want you so bad. God, do I want you. And when I look into your eyes, I always have this urge to just kiss you. And I'm scared that one day I won't be able to overcome that feeling. "
Spencer remained silent, eyes fluttering close as Ashley continued to trace her jaw line, her eyebrows, her nose, and back to her lips.
It was all out there. Every feeling she tried to hide from Spencer, every feeling she locked away in her heart in hopes that Spencer would never find out.
But of course she would find out. Spencer had the key. She always had it, Ashley knew. Yet, in that instance, Spencer knew it too.
"I wish you'd say something," Ashley said hopefully, taking her hand away from Spencer's face. Both were dripping rain, hair soaked and flattened, but neither seemed to care.
Without thinking, and overwhelmed by complete want, Spencer leaned closer to her friend. Ashley did the same, licking her already wet lips, and under the storming rain, beneath the dark lightning filled sky, underneath the booming thunder, they kissed. Their lips met, softly at first and in controlled eagerness. Spencer pulled Ashley closer, hand behind her neck and fingers laced through wet curls. Passion seeped through Ashley's lips in the form of light moans, heat penetrating her center, as Spencer asked for entrance to the brunette's mouth with her tongue. Their tongues battled for dominance before Spencer decided to let Ashley have it. Spencer moaned, or was it Ashley? Neither knew, nor did they care. Ashley was Spencer and Spencer was Ashley.
For seconds, seconds that seemed to tick away like hours, they kissed. Passion, want, desire, all mixed in with bruised lips, heavy breathing, and moans. Heat contrasted with the cold wetness of their clothes, and for moments more, they were lost in each other.
BOOM!
Thunder beat the sky with so much force, that Spencer and Ashley shot away from each other. Both mirrored each other in expression—bruised lips, wet, disheveled hair, and chests rising and falling rapidly to catch their breath. Both had a look of pure desire, but Spencer's was different.
She looked almost torn, afraid.
"I'm sorry Ash."
Spencer turned and ran towards her house, ignoring Ashley's futile attempts to stop her, and allowing the same girl's heart to break.
Ashley went to her BMW, confused, frustrated tears no longer mingling with the rain, but instead falling on the steering wheel of her car. She looked to her right and saw the envelope from UCLA sitting on her passenger seat. She pondered her next move, but decided 'what the hell?' She grabbed the envelope and ripped it in half.
Spencer had made her own choice.
Ashley and Spencer barely talked after that. Ashley ignored the numerous phone calls Spencer sent her way, and on the day of graduation, the brunette left for New York without saying good-bye. It had nearly killed Ashley to do it, but it had to be done.
Spencer pulled away before they even had a chance, and Ashley ran before the blonde had a chance to explain. It pained both of them. Both hurt each other, and in that, hurt themselves.
But eight years of barely speaking hadn't prepared Ashley for the envelope she received almost three weeks ago. Fancy French Script text that tore her in pieces every time she thought about it.
Mrs. Arthur Carlin
Requests the pleasure of your company
At the marriage of her daughter
Spencer Marie
to
Mr. Kevin Landon James
At St. Charles Church, Los Angeles,
On Thursday, November 27th, 2008
At one o'clock
And afterward at
The Grand Ball reception hall.
Ashley glanced to her right as she read the sign that said: Welcome to California. She reached up to her GPS and turned it off. Only a few more miles until she saw her friends, her family, her former best friend.
Only a few more miles…
She was almost home.