Hey guys, sorry this took a little while. I couldn't seem to get it exactly the way I wanted it. Probably because this chapter was a lot harder to write plotwise. But I hope you enjoy it. Thanks.
I push between the sweaty masses of people on my usual hunt for the hottest, drunkest straight girl I can find.
It's Friday night at the club and I am totally ready to let loose. This week has been really weird. I'd normally spend it partying, flirting outrageously, getting drunk and hanging out with Taylor. But this week I've hardly been out at all, there has been absolutely no outrageous flirting and the only time I even got a little bit tipsy was when I had a couple of drinks at Taylor's house while we were watching Buffy box sets. How could this have happened to me? I'm losing my mojo!
In fact I think I might know exactly how this has happened to me. Two words:
Spencer Carlin.
Ever since that girl's wandered into my life I've been thrown completely off kilter. With her around I can't seem to be the cool, laid-back, womanizing Ashley Davies I'm so used to being. Instead, I turn into this, stuttering, blundering, foolish idiot of an Ashley Davies who keeps falling off a fucking giraffe every time that damn girl tilts her head!
It's seriously not good for my reputation. And it's about time that I put a stop to it.
I haven't got a wingman tonight because Taylor blew me off because her Dad asked her to have dinner with him before he goes to a conference in New York for two weeks. I know right? What a bitch. But let me tell you now, that's not gonna stop me from having sex with the best-looking chick in this place. In fact, nothing is.
Aha! I have spotted my target. There's a slim, bottle blonde in the centre of the dance floor, grinding drunkenly on some guys leg. Hm. Nice body. Big tits. Good ass. Great legs, but nowhere near as fine as Spencer's...
Fucking hell!
I had three rules for tonight and I've already broken rule number one: Do not think about Spencer Carlin.
Normally when I go out I get pretty carried away so Taylor and I always make up three golden rules to keep ourselves grounded. Numbers one and three vary depending on the situation but number two is always the same.
Rule number two: No sex with transsexuals.
What? It was one time! And in my defence the club was really dark. Her Adam's apple totally looked like a shadow!
Anyway, I start to stalk towards the girl in a sexy, predatory manner, ready to pull my pray from the jaws of the competition.
Okay, I know I'm describing it like the voiceover from a programme on the discovery channel but believe me when I say I look sexy. The fact that I'm wearing a jean skirt that could pass for a belt and a tight waistcoat that's displaying so much cleavage you could probably stick your whole face in it and make motorboat noises if you wanted to (Which I know you do) is a large contributing factor.
When I reach the gyrating couple I stealthily use my razor sharp elbows to nudge the guy away. He's so drunk I don't think he even noticed because he stumbles off towards the bar.
I wrap my arms around the blonde and notice that she's got that glazed look in her eye. That glazed look that tells me that I'm getting some tonight because she is too far gone to give a fuck about the fact that I'm a girl. I love it when they're like this, although it's not much of a challenge.
I know I sound like a complete douche bag right now but think of it this way. These girls are completely vulnerable. Would you rather it was me who went home with them or some perverted guy? Uh-huh. That's what I thought.
She begins to grind against me, slipping a thigh snugly between my own as I stare over her shoulder, getting lost in the familiar feeling of being pressed up against the female body.
The girl leans up and starts to place sloppy, drunken kisses along my neck, moaning lightly against my skin.
That's right baby! Ashley Davies is back!
I inhale the pungent smell of vodka as her breath hits my face and she leans in to kiss me. Just as our lips are about to lock I make the fatal mistake of opening my eyes which were previously clenched tightly shut.
She looks identical to pretty much every other girl I've ever fucked. Not that I really remember any of them. They're all dyed hair and heavily made up faces, orange with caked on foundation.
I'm pretty sure Spencer's a natural blonde and she barely has to wear any make-up and she still looks absolutely gorgeous.
I feel the girl's breath on my lips as Spencer's angelic face swims to the forefront of my mind.
Shit.
I can't do this.
I push her lightly away before turning and shoving my way back across the club, fighting the urge to throw up. I'm not drunk, I've only had a few shots to loosen myself up since I got here but as I exit the club and breathe in the fresh air the enormity of what I just did hits me in the face like a massive frying pan.
I, Ashley Davies, just willingly walked away from sex.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
So now I find myself standing on my best friend's doorstop at half eleven at night, staring anxiously at the large wooden door.
I always run straight to Taylor if I'm in any kind of trouble. Lord knows why because normally she's utterly fucking useless!
But right now I couldn't give a shit. I think I'm broken and I need my best friend.
I bang loudly on the front, hoping she's still awake. Who am I kidding? Taylor's like nocturnal or something, she sits up playing on her Xbox until about two in the morning most nights.
The door swings open and Taylor's standing there wearing a pair of grey boxers and a white tank top, her short hair sticking up all over the place. If it wasn't for the Xbox controller clutched tightly in her left hand I would have actually thought that she was asleep. Her eyes widen in surprise when she sees me.
"I need to talk to you." I tell her gravely, pushing past her before she has the chance to speak and march down the hallway towards the living room.
Oh. My .God.
I freeze in the doorway when I spot the person sitting on the sofa. Aiden is sprawled in front of the TV, holding another controller and wearing a ridiculous headset, Cloppy curled around his massive shoulders.
Another reason why I hate that cat. He prefers Aiden to me. How is that even possible?
Taylor appears behind me and I turn to face her, the bitter betrayal seeping through me.
What a traitor!
"You told me your Dad was coming home tonight and you were spending time with him!" I yell at her cowering form, pointing an accusatory finger in her guilty face.
"He was I swear!" Taylor responds, but I'm not listening to her pathetic attempt to defend herself, I'm too preoccupied with figuring out the best way to tattoo the word 'Judas' to her forehead.
Out of the corner of my eye I can see Aiden getting hurriedly to his feet.
"Well it was nice hanging out with you Tay." He quickly slips between us and towards the door. "Bye Ash."
With that he runs off down the hall like a scared little girl. Coward. Although, admittedly it was a wise move because I was totally planning on moving onto him after I'd murdered Taylor.
As soon as the door was slammed I rounded on her again. I don't really even know why I'm so furious.
"So that's it is it?" I snap angrily. "You'd rather sit around and play stupid games with Aiden than hang out with your best friend?"
"No Ashley. It's not like that at all." Taylor holds up her hands in a submissive gesture. "My Dad got a work call half way through dinner and had to leave. I was gonna hit you up and see where you were at but then Aiden just randomly turned up on my doorstep asking if I wanted to hang out."
Oh.
Well now I feel like a complete ass.
"It's alright." Taylor pats my shoulder comfortingly. "Just try and give me the benefit of the doubt sometimes, Yeah?"
"Yeah. Sorry." I bite my lip, feeling totally guilty for ever even considering tattooing 'Judas' to her forehead.
I stare briefly at the ground for a moment before turning back to Taylor, who's looking at me with her trademark arched eyebrow.
"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours Ash?" She asks softly, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and leading me over to the leather couch.
I let out a loud sigh as I sit down beside her because I have no idea how to answer that question. I really have no fucking clue what's going on in my head at the moment.
"What are you doing back so early?" Taylor asks me after a pregnant pause. "I thought you'd be out all night. Couldn't find any cute girls to hook up with?"
"Nah, there were plenty of girls." I tell her truthfully, as she frowns in confusion.
"Then what are you doing here? Why aren't you out getting some?"
I took a deep breath, unsure of how to phrase my next sentence. Honestly, I never thought I'd be having this conversation.
"Taylor, I think I'm broken." I just blurt it out.
"Broken? What do you mean broken?"
Fucking hell! She isn't gonna make this easy for me is she?
"Cliff notes version? Ashley goes to club. Ashley finds an EDSG." That's Taylor and I's abbreviation for 'extremely drunk straight girl' by the way. "Ashley dances with EDSG. EDSG goes to kiss Ashley, a kiss that would normally result in Ashley getting it on with EDSG. However, Ashley then proceeds to freak out and run away."
I cringe as Taylor's eyes bug so far out of her head that she looks remarkably like a less green version of Kermit the frog. "So to sum up..." Taylor says slowly as though what I've just said has severely damaged her brain. "You ran away from sex?"
I flinch. Damn. It sounds even worse out loud.
"Basically." I swallow audibly. "I don't know what's wrong with me. What do I do Tay?"
"I don't have a clue." Taylor shrugs.
I told you she was useless.
"Why did you do it?" She continues after a moment. "Why did you freak out?"
"That's just it, I have no fucking idea!" I exclaim in frustration. "One moment I'm fine, enjoying dancing with this girl and then she goes in to kiss me and then suddenly I start thinking about Spencer and then I just had to get out of there!"
"Wait, what?" Taylor looks even more confused for a moment before the corners of her mouth begin to tilt upwards into one of her infamous dopey smiles.
What the fuck? I'm having a nervous breakdown and she has the audacity to sit there grinning like a hyena on Prozac. How very dare she.
"What are you fucking smiling about?" I send her my best scowl, which morphs into a petulant pout when she just carries on smiling.
"Do you want to know what I think about this whole thing?" Taylor says smugly.
No, not really. I actually kind of want to punch you in the face.
"Well I'm going to tell you anyway" Taylor chuckles, reading my face like a book. "I think you like her."
What? Who?
"Who?"
Taylor has the impudence to roll her eyes at me in a rather condescending manner. If she's not damn careful I'm gonna stab them out with a fork and shove them down her throat.
Wow. That was seriously sadistic. Forget Madison, I think I'm the one in need of some anger management.
"Spencer. I think you like her." Taylor's answers eventually. "And I'm not saying you like her as in want to fuck her, I mean you like like her. As in you want to have her babies like her."
Huh?
Me. Like. Spencer?
Babies?
What?
"You should probably close your mouth Ash. You're at risk of swallowing a stampeding hippo." I vaguely feel Taylor's callused fingers on my chin as she snaps my gaping mouth shut.
Huh?
Stampeding Hippo? Ashley like Spencer?
What?
Eventually, I somehow manage to speak, my voice coming out in a high pitched squeak which I would have found funny if I wasn't in a complete state of shock.
"What?"
"You like her Ash." Taylor shrugs as though the notion is the simplest thing in the world. It's not by the way. I don't like like girls. I like to fuck girls. This is all kinds of wrong. But at the same time I can't help but think that what Taylor is kind of true. Oh God, I like Spencer Carlin.
"How did this even happen?" My voice comes out in a petulant whine as I fold my arms across my chest and unleash a fearsome pout at the innocent wall opposite me.
"Don't be so hard on yourself Ash." Taylor pats me consolingly on the shoulder.
Whatever. It's easy enough for her to say. I don't see her pining over a girl she met less than two weeks ago. This sucks! And what am I even supposed to do about it?
"What am I supposed to do now?" I voice my thoughts.
"What do you wanna do Ash?" Taylor replies because for some reason she seems to think that it's helpful to answer a question with another question. "Do you want to be with her?"
Be with her? As in date her? Whoa! That is so difficult for my mind to comprehend that I think I just had an aneurism.
I stop to think about it for a moment. It's true to say that she definitely elicits a different reaction from me than any girl ever has. Ever since we met I've spent an almost ridiculous amount of time thinking about her, I've dreamt about her almost every night and I'm not just talking about sex dreams, although there have been plenty of those too. But the weirdest thing of all is the way I feel when I'm physically in her presence. My palms get sweaty, my voice gets at least an octave higher and I just so happen to magically transform into a complete and utter fucktard.
But does that mean I want to date her?
I grab a pillow from the couch and bring it to my face before screaming into it as loud as I can. I really need some kind of release to all this horrible tension I'm feeling and if I'm not gonna get it sexually then I need to find another method. After I'm done screaming I start biting into it like some kind of rabid dog. What? I'm stressed. It's not like I've gone nuts or anything.
When I've finally removed the pillow from my face, I see Taylor looking at me as though she doesn't know whether to laugh or to phone the nearest psychiatric facility. Luckily for her she chooses the former.
"I'm gonna take that as a yes you do want to be with her." She chuckles as I throw the pillow at her head. Taylor just laughs even louder but quickly cringes when she catches it. "You can keep this." She tells me, throwing back the slightly drooled on cushion, whilst wiping her hands on her boxers.
I would have laughed at the disgusted look on her face but I'm just too depressed about this me liking Spencer thing. Does this mean I can't be a player anymore? Are my womanizing days over? Am I now just one of those regular lesbians who actually dates other girls? This is all so confusing.
I must look really pathetic because when I turn to face Taylor her expression is unusually sympathetic.
"C'mere." She says, opening her arms as I willingly sink into them.
Taylor isn't the most affectionate person you'll ever meet but damn is she a good hugger. She's always warm, no matter how cold it is, she always smells good and if you're lucky enough to get a real Taylor Jones hug then you can't help but feel completely safe and secure.
"What am I gonna do Tay?" I mumble into her shoulder.
"Well first we've got to find out a few things. First one being if she's actually gay." Taylor tells me softly. "And there's one more thing you should know."
I draw back so I can look her in the eyes. She's biting her lip slightly and I know that I'm not gonna like what she's about to say next.
"Aiden likes her too."
I knew it!
Fuck that tool! I knew I should have killed him when I had the chance!
"That's why he came over. He wanted to talk to me about it." Taylor tells me. "He's gonna ask her out on Monday."
Well that's just fucking fantastic.
"Why? Why Spencer? Of all the girls in the world he just has to want her doesn't he?" I lean despairingly against Taylor's shoulder. "I can't compete with him Tay. I don't have biceps the size of melons or stupid boyish good looks or dazzling green eyes..."
My overactive imagination takes control and I picture Spencer and Aiden walking down the aisle arm in arm, her looking stunning in her wedding dress and him looking ridiculously handsome in his tux. Then there's me standing at the side throwing handfuls of confetti over the happy couple. And for some strange reason I'm dressed in one of those hessian potato sacks.
"Hey Ash. Don't freak out." Taylor rubs my back lightly as I desperately try to figure out a way to make potato sacks look fashionable. "Just remember that you have something that Aiden doesn't."
"What's that?"
I pull away from her so that I can see her face. A mischievous smirk is tugging at her lips.
"You, my girl, have an absolutely fantastic, talented, extremely good-looking best friend who just so happens to have a brilliant plan."
Thanks for reading.
Big thank you to all of those who reviewed last time. Shout-out to Cobrastryke, somthgIlike2do, leli240593ari, Galmil, Alex-Paige-4ever, drummergirl244 and Ezo Ookami. Much appreciated.