Here is chapter 9.

Enjoy.

Enjoy and. . . review, I appreciate them.

Oh and if theres any kind of mistake, sorry. I didnt do to well at checking this before I posted it.

------------

Ash's foot touched something as she started to unlock the guest house door. It was dark outside, so she opened the door first, dropped her duffel bag, inside, and turned on the porch light before looking.

It was a plate of cookies, wrapped in cellophane. A folded piece of paper was taped to the top. She reached down and picked up the plate. It was still warm. She smelled it. The cookies were homemade. She smiled and read the note.

Sorry about yesterday-Spencer

She walked across the courtyard to the villa. A single light had been left on in the kitchen. Ash immediately saw the note that was taped to the sliding glass door.

To anyone who cares to know where I am, It's Saturday night and Mackenzie has dragged me yelling and screaming to someplace called Carlos 'n Charlie's. She tells me my appreciation of Aruba can't start until I've experienced that atmosphere. Hope to see you there. . . Whoever you are.

She smiled at her stick-figure signature. It was a picture of a saucer-eyed girl with crutches and one leg in a cast. Ash figured the note wasn't left for Arthur.

Heading back to the guest house, she saw another note taped to one of the outdoor lounge chairs.

Dear Neighbor,

I'm sorry. I'm at Carlos 'n Charlie's. I'm writing this just incase you're taking a break en route from to the and haven't seen my other notes,

Spencer

P.S. The cookies are homemade by me. Hope you like them. I almost set the kitchen on fore making them. BTW, the sketch is a self-portrait.

P.S.S.(or is it P.P.S?.) Two full days, and I'm still not burned. A miracle. Thank you.

Ash had planned to stay home and cool it tonight. But Spencer was doing a great job at tempting her.

-------

From the outside, the place looked like a saloon you might see in the old western. Spencer paused and corrected herself. In old movies, there were never lines of people waiting to get into those places. Even though there was a porch with a handful of tables and chairs, there had to be fifty people trying to get inside Carlos 'n Charlie's.

While they were heading for the line-which moved surprisingly fast, Spencer thought-a wildly painted party bus pulled up and a crowd of young people piled off, joining them on the sidewalk. The music was blasting out the open front door.

The way Mackenzie explained it, the club served Mexican food until sometime in the evening, and then they pushed the tables and chairs to the side and then the place became one giant dance floor. That was every night. Spencer's crutches came in handy at getting sympathy from the bouncer at the door. He waved them in ahead of other waiting customers.

"They didn't card us, she told Mac as they were pushed into the loud room filled with people.

"You can get in most clubs at sixteen in Aruba." She had to yell her answer over the music in order to be heard.

Spencer looked around in amazement. A master of ceremonies in a flowered shirt was standing on a platform to their right, next to the bar, and singing into a mike while three guys with bottles balanced on their heads tried to do a kind of line dance behind him. He was encouraging the audience to sing along. Participation was not problem. . People on the dance floor, some of them standing in chairs, were singing at the top of their lungs with the music.

"I think it's safest if we move to a corner."

Spencer agreed and followed Mac through the noisy throng of revelers. As they skirted

the edge of the black-and-white checkered dance floor, her crutch landed on someone's foot. Spencer turned to apologize to the dancer, only to back into a huge table, nearly toppling a woman who was dancing on it. The woman regained her balance, luckily, but not before dumping half of a margaritas top of a bald guys head, standing beside the table. The drenched guy started yelling, the woman started yelling back, and Spencer clutched her crutches to her side and scrambled after Mackenzie.

"I think you almost got caught in the middle of a brawl," Mac shouted, looking back a the dance floor as Spencer caught up to her.

"I think I started it."

Mac just grinned as if she didn't believe her.

Just then, a middle-aged couple got up from a table in the corner, and Mac grabbed the table.

"Is it always this crazy?" Spencer asked, leaning her crutches against the wall.

Mac leaned over and yelled in her ear. "Actually, this is the quiet part of the night. Wait till later!"

Spencer sat on a high stool across from Mac and looked around with interest. The brawl she'd started was over. The bald guy was nowhere to be seen, but the same woman was dancing on that table again. She of course had a new margarita in her hand.

Spencer had never been clubbing in a bar like this one before. People continued to stream in, and she looked up in he glassed-in booth above and to one side of the door. She hadn't noticed it when they'd come in, and she watched the DJ flip though the records.

There was so much to see. Every inch of the walls were covered with framed 1950's photographs of people standing next to huge fish, posters of old advertisements for Mexico and Cuba, and funny bumper stickers. The entire place was vibrating to the music.

A shrill whistle made her jump up in her seat. Looking around, she realized whistling was how the waiters got people to move out of their way as they went between the bar and the tables and the kitchen with orders. She shook her head in amazement at Mac.

A whistling waiter made his way to their table and took their drinking orders.

Neither of them ordered alcohol drinks. Mackenzie shouted something about being the designated driver, and Spencer yelled back that she needed her wits about her to make sure she didn't end up with another broken leg. It Didn't seem to make an difference to the waiter, and he went whistling off toward the bar.

Whole they were waiting, Spencer watched as the dancing and singing continued. A balcony ran around three sides of the place, and she could see people up there, drinking and eating and people watching. She knew there were people above them too, because a group pf girls on the dance floor was looking up and laughing shouting back and forth over the music with someone.

Spencer had never seen so many people having a good time. Maybe Mac wasn't kidding when she said Aruba loved to party.

Their drinks came, and the two of them got wrapped up in another contest that the flowered-shirt on the stage started.

------

It was a couple of sodas and another act later when she saw Mackenzie wave to someone by the door. Spencer's heart did a double-flip as she recognized who'd just arrived.

"You met Aiden yesterday, where the lizard stopped for lunch," Mac said excitedly over the noise. "I can't believe he's here."

Spencer looked again and noticed that Ash had come with a friend. The two had spotted them and were weaving their way over. She turned to Mac to ask a question and immediately noticed her friend's nervousness.

Mackenzie ran her fingers through her curls and took a long sip of her soda. She took of the little sleeveless sweater she was wearing over her sundress and immediately put it back on. She moved her purse from the table to the back of the chair, then put it back on the table.

"I think I'll go to the bathroom," she said.

Spencer put a hand on Mac's arm. "You're not going anywhere."

"But-"

"What's going on?" Spencer asked with a smile.

"Don't say anything," Mac warned as Ash and Adien arrived at the table.

Spencer turned around to greet them and bumped her crutches. That was all it took, and she watched helplessly as disaster unfolded. The crutch fell toward Ash. As the brunette tried to reach down to catch it, the crowd of dancer surged behind her, sending her forward and causing her to trip over the crutch.

Scrambling off the stool, Spencer put in Ash's path to catch her. It only made things worse though, as Ash fell into her and they both went down, taking a waitress who was passing with them.

One upended chair and a couple of pictures knocked off the wall. Thankfully, the waitresses chair had been empty. Spencer was the only one who actually hit the floor, landing solidly on her butt with Ash on top of her.

Immediately, Ash was up on her feet and bending over the blonde with Aiden and Mac looking on. Before pulling her up, she felt her arm and her leg, making sure she was okay. Spencer was more embarrassed than anything, though their little tumble wasn't spectacular enough to attract attention beyond the closes tables. The music continued and the people who witnessed this scenario turned around and continued to do whatever they were primarily doing.

Before Spencer could bend down and get her crutches, Ash was already picking them up.

"Theses could be considered weapons of mass destruction," Ash yelled to her before placing them securely in the corner.

"Twelve days and I'm burning them."

"I want to help. I think I should be the torch bearer."

"You've got the job," she said with a smile.

Ash ushered her back onto her stool, and she was introduced again to Aiden Dennison. With the noise level as it was, there wasn't much opportunity for conversation across the table. Aiden left the table and came back in a minute carrying two more stools he'd stolen from somewhere. He sat his close to Mackenzie's. She seemed flustered, but happy.

Ash dragged her seat next to Spencer's. She said something that the blonde didn't hear. Ash bent her head close to the other girl's ear.

"What are you drinking?"

Her hair was wet. The clean scent of her Apple-cinnamon shampoo(yes, specially mad ein Aruba) mingled with her spicy fragrance. She didn't think she smelt anything so wonderful. Ash had on some dark blue skinny jeans with a bohemian style layered cami and beige sandals.. He hair was down and she was looking as exotic as she smelled.

"Soda," she managed to say.

"Not a drinker?

She shrugged. "I can try things at home, but I don't like to drink."

Ash didn't hear her. "What?"

Spencer put her mouth close to the other girls ear. "I'm getting into enough trouble without it. How about you?"

The brunette's arm looped over her shoulder, and she kept her close as she turned to look at the blonde. "I'm not a big drinker. No bingeing. Don't believe in it. But I'll have a beer or two."

Their faces were so close, their foreheads were practically brushing. Within moments the music, the crowds, even their friends across the table . . None of them existed for Spencer. It was just the two of them, and she just wanted to be lost in this moment forever.

"Thank you for the cookies."

"Sorry about yesterday," she said in answer.

"You shouldn't have run off like that."

"I know," she murmured. "I just have this thing about not wanting to be in the way," Spencer admitted.

"The fifth wheel thing."

She nodded.

"Well you weren't. Kate and I are not-"

"You don't have to explain."

"Yeah, I do." Her hazel eyes fixed on blue ones. "We wne out a handful of times last year. It didn't work out. She's ben after me to try again this summer. But Im not interested."

Spencer was thrilled but tried to keep her face calm. "She's really beautiful," she said, for lack of something better to say.

"I guess. But she's. . ." She shrugged. "I don't know, she's like something you see in a jewelry store display case. It might look really good under the glass, but once it's out in the open and you get a closer look, it's not quite the same."

Spencer knew how she herself would look under close scrutiny. And it wasn't too good.

Mackenzie and Aiden moved. Spencer saw her friend motion toward the dance floor. The emcee in the flowered shirt was taking a break.

A slower dance song came on, and people were pairing up.

"Is Aiden a good guy?" she asked Ash.

She nodded. " Ii only met him this year. He's a really good windsurfer."

"I mean, out of the display case."

Ash smiled. "You looking after Mackenzie's interests?"

"Maybe," she replied. "I like her. She has a lot going for her. When it comes to men, I'm

not so sure she's as aware as most people."

"Elaborate."

"Well, most women seem to fall for the wrong guys and-"

"They do?"

"Yeah. So they end up giving up all of their goals just to-"

"All of their goals?"

"Yes. Men can be so controlling."

"You can be controlling too."

"Must we always do this?" the blonde grinned.

"I think so," the brunettes smiled.

"Oh well, back to Aiden. . ."

"He's actually from California like me. Goes to school oat UCLA. Engineering major. A year older than me. Has a job here or the summer, working in construcrtion. As far as I know, no girlfriends. We both arrived on the island about the same time three weeks ago."

"Does he like Mackenzie?"

Ash glanced at the dance floor ad smiled. "I don't know. You tell me."

She followed the direction of the older girl's gaze. Aiden and Mackenzie were wrapped in a tight embrace. Her head was resting on his shoulder. His arms had a tight lock on her.

"I'd say he may be good for her."

Ash seemed amused by her comment. " This side of you I didn't see the first day."

"I'm starting to feel comfortable, so watch out. You never know which side of me comes out when."

"I can't wait." Ash stood up, tugging on the blondes hand."

"Where are we going?"

"The dance floor."

"With this?" she asked, pointing to her cast.

Ash nodded. I'm feeling a little good, myself. Thought I'd show it, if you don't mind."

Nothing could have shut Spencer's mouth more effectively that the other girl's words.

She stood up, and ash shook her head when she tried to reach for the crutches.

"You don't need them, you've got me."