My apologies for taking so long. Again. But you'll be pleased to know I've written the next three chapters or so and the ball is once again rolling.
Thanks to a particularly pushy person (you know who you are) who went as far as threats to my mortal soul in order to get me to finally update. Threats that kind of scared me by the way.
Anyway, this chapter's a bit filler but things heat up in the next. Hope you enjoy it regardless.
Ouch.
Have you ever woken up wondering why there's a ten tonne elephant sitting on your head?
And then you realise that it's because you're a complete and utter fucking moron?
I groan as the slightly blurred memories of the night before come rushing back. Memories of the party. Dancing with Spencer. Almost kissing Spencer. Tearing some random girl's hair out and of course, returning home to raid my mother's liquor cabinet.
I crack my left eye open just a notch, flinching at the sunlight streaming into the room.
Blackout blind my ass.
I settle my gaze on the empty bottle of Jack Daniels sitting innocently on my bedside table and throw it a one-eyed glare. I knew there was a reason why I hate men.
As I'm contemplating whether or not I should ever leave the confines of my bed I hear a familiar chuckle from nearby and the sound of someone shuffling around before my bed dips slightly as it's sat on.
"For a minute there, I thought you were dead." The currently bodiless but easily distinguishable English accent sounds amused.
"Fuck off Taylor." I groan.
Unfortunately, that sounded more like 'Ugh, ugh, ughhhh' because my face is smushed into my pillow.
"I have no idea what you said but I'm going to hazard a guess that it was rude and that I resent it." Taylor has the audacity to laugh, as though she finds my pain and misery hilarious.
I turn my head to the side; my eyes still clamped shut so that the next thing I say is audible.
"Fuck the fuck off!" My voice is extra husky and my throat is sore, no doubt from the sheer volume of whisky I downed last night.
"That's a nice way to greet your best friend." The bed dips further as Taylor lies down beside me. "A best friend who spent a good portion of last night cleaning your vomit off of the kitchen floor may I add."
What?
I just about manage to muster the impetus to roll over to face her, cracking open one eye. She's lying about a metre away from me, a cheeky grin on her face, her mischievous hazel eyes sparkling in the morning sunlight and just for a moment I want to inflict grievous bodily harm upon her.
That's until I remember that she's a lot bigger than me. That and the fact that right now I don't even think I can stand up.
"I hate you."
Her grin only widens until I can see her annoyingly straight, pearly white teeth.
"I love you too."
I groan in disgust and roll over again so that I can rest my pounding temple against her bare shoulder.
"You're sweaty." I comment because my mind is so discombobulated right now that's the only thing I can think to say.
"I've just been for a jog." She tells me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me further into her side. "You gonna tell me what happened last night?"
"Nope."
"You're not gonna tell me why I came here to check up on you to find Kyla holding your hair back as you threw up on your Mum's favourite pot plant."
"I threw up in Christine's pot plant?"
"Yep."
"Excellent."
"Are you going to tell me why Carmen Sanchez now has a bald patch? I've never liked the girl but she's a good footballer and now I have to deal with the fact that my best friend happened to rip a huge chunk of her hair out." Taylor attempts to sound irritated but fails miserably.
So that's who that bitch was. Never liked her. She always thought that she was a better lesbian than me when everyone knows that I'm the top ladylover at King High. In fact I bet I'm the best lesbian in the entire world.
Wait…
"Bald patch? Really?"
"According to Aiden."
"Excellent."
I can almost hear Taylor rolling her eyes beside me and a minute later she shifts so that she is propped up on her elbow, looking down at me, a worryingly serious expression on her face.
"Okay then. If you don't want to tell me that then can you please tell me why a hysterical Spencer cut my party time short? She was so bloody upsert, the only words I could get out of her were 'Ashley' and 'no'. What the hell did you do to her?"
I look away, unable to take the pressure of her accusing stare, and bury my head in her neck.
Sometimes I really hate myself.
"I'm an idiot."
"What?" Taylor can't hear me because I've squashed my face impossibly far into her neck.
"I'm an idiot!" I exclaim loudly, immediately regretting it as my ears start to ring.
"I know you are. Now please fill me in. You owe me Ash. She fucking cried and you know how much I hate crying chicks."
It's true you know. The last time I cried in Taylor's vicinity she moved away from me so fast she tripped over her own feet and gave herself a black eye.
As funny as it was at the time, I'm struggling to find the funny in anything at the moment. Not to sound dramatic or anything, but my life is over.
"I tried to kiss Spencer."
I wince. It sounds really bad out loud.
"That's why she was crying?" Taylor sits up straight, so that I fall unceremoniously back onto the mattress. "I thought you were a good kisser?"
"I am. Not that you would know." I bite back. "I didn't actually get to kiss her you asshat! That's the point! She ran off!"
Taylor lies back down, letting out a long whistle and putting her arms behind her head.
"Wow. That's rough." She says with an ounce of sympathy. "I really thought she was into you."
"I know right? Talk about mixed signals." I reply miserably. "She agreed to skip school with me, she danced dirty with me and everything! I don't know, maybe I was reading it all wrong. She's probably so straight that she screams when she sees her own vagina."
Taylor snorts and against all odds I feel a little smile tugging at the corners of my lips. Before I know what's happening we're both in fits of laughter, rolling around on the bed.
It doesn't last for long though as my pounding head and weak stomach combine to bring my laughter to an abrupt end. Letting out another groan of self-pity at how shit I feel I nestle myself back against Taylor who resumes her earlier position with an arm curled around my waist.
"I'm sorry girl." She tells me sincerely, leaning down to press a light kiss on my head before thinking better of it when she catches a strong whiff of whisky that seems to have begun to ooze from every pore in my body. "I really thought she liked you too. I thought you had a real shot. You never know, you might still have one. She did sit with you for over an hour when I went for my jog."
Upon hearing this revelation, I jerk up, staring at my best friend as though she has two heads. Why the fuck didn't she mention this earlier?
"What is it?" She looks worried, seemingly unaware of the importance of her last sentence. "Are you gonna hurl again? Please don't. This is my favourite T-shirt."
I stare at her in disbelief.
"Spencer was here?"
"Sure." She shrugs. "She knocked on the door this morning and asked to speak to you. I told her you were up here so she came up and sat with you while I went for my jog."
"You did what?" I breathe out slowly, gaining satisfaction from the fear rising in her eyes.
"Look Ash, I'm sorry but I'd been sitting on my arse watching you breathe for almost three hours and I was getting antsy. So when Spencer came round…"
"You let her come up to watch me snore and drool too?" I raise my eyebrows at her threateningly.
"I couldn't just leave you alone! My Dad's told me stories about the drunks who choke on their own puke." Taylor has the impudence to defend herself. "I was getting exercise withdrawal and Kyla had already left for yoga class. What did you want me to do?"
"Let me choke on my own fucking puke!" I yell, slapping her over the head.
"Okay! Jeez!" Taylor rubs at her head with a wounded frown. "I get it. Next time I'll let you die."
"Thank you." I settle back against the covers and put my hands over my eyes. "Oh god, I can't believe she saw me like this. Now I'll never have a shot."
"You didn't look that bad." Taylor reassures me. "Kyla managed to get all of the sick out of your hair and the soil off of your face."
"Soil?"
"From the pot plant."
Of course. This just gets better and better.
"You never know Ash, you do look quite angelic when you sleep." Taylor pointedly ignores my glare and lays back down beside me. "And the fact that she came over to speak to you in the first place is a good thing right?"
That's true. At least she's not avoiding me like I'm some walking infestation of flesh-eating locusts.
"Maybe." I sigh and resume resting my head on Taylor's warm shoulder.
"Maybe she's just scared?" She suggests after a moments silence. "You know what her Mum's like."
"Yeah. She's a total bitch."
"Exactly. She's probably terrified of what Paula would say if she found out that she was even hanging out with you at all."
Dear Paula Carlin.
I hate you.
A lot.
Love from Ashley.
"Just next time you try and kiss her?" Taylor arches an eyebrow at me. "Choose a better moment."
She laughs as I smack her hard on the arm.
"What?" I feel her shoulder shrug beneath my head. "Dragging a hysterical blonde home was not the way I wanted to spend my night. I was on the verge of getting lucky."
"Taylor, how many time's do I have to tell you. Lauren Slater will not, under any circumstances, fuck you." I roll my eyes at her persistence.
"I wasn't talking about Lauren." Taylor nudges me playfully. "Although, she totally wants me."
"Then who are you talking about?"
"Just some girl I picked up last night." Taylor shrugs nonchalantly but there's something a little off about her tone.
Inspecting her facial expression more closely I don't notice anything out of the ordinary and shrug it off.
"At least you were on your way to getting lucky." I tell her morosely. "I can't even kiss a girl without her running in the opposite direction."
Taylor pats my head lightly and pulls me further into her, this time braving the kiss to my head.
"At least she didn't slap you."
"True dat." I agree. "Although it might have been kind of hot."
"I personally prefer a slapper over a crier." Taylor nods wisely. "Speaking of slappers. Do you think I could get Lauren Slater to come to my eighteenth next week?"
"No. I don't."
"Bollocks"
If I'm honest there probably aren't many people who would want to come to an 18th birthday bash that consists of going to Chuck E. Cheese and eating pizza until someone throws up, playing/watching an Xbox marathon and setting random shit on fire after consuming a couple of cases of beer each.
Yeah, Taylor's party last year was an absolute blast. I heard that the garden bench didn't have such a good night though.
Just as I'm about to remind her of this fact, the door creaks open and Spencer walks in, a steely look planted firmly on her gorgeous face.
The expression slips clean off as soon as she looks over at the bed and it takes me a moment to realise why.
I'm still snuggled up tightly in Taylor's arms and she's all sweaty.
Shit!
I roll away from Taylor as fast as I can and quickly sit up, ignoring my pounding headache.
She's still standing in the doorway, staring at me through red-rimmed eyes. It looks a hell of a lot like she's been crying for a while and the thought that I might have caused her tears breaks my heart.
"Spencer…" I croak out because my tongue has suddenly turned to carpet.
Unfortunately, the sound of my voice seems to jog her from her frozen state and she whips around, dashing from the room before I can say anything else. Not that I even had anything else to say.
I stare after her for a minute before a strong hand shoves me from the bed.
"What are you doing?" Taylor asks me incredulously. "Go after her!"
Oh. Right.
Just as I'm about to make a mad dash for the door Taylor grabs my wrist.
"Wait!" She pulls me back and shoves me in the direction of the en suite. "Brush your teeth first and put on some deodorant. You smell like a tramps arse."
"By the time I do that she'll have left." I'm torn between the door and the bathroom.
"I'll stall her." Taylor decides for me, nudging me further towards the bathroom as she rushes from the room, thundering down the stairs after Spencer.
After hurriedly brushing my teeth, accidentally swallowing the mouthwash that has a big yellow warning sign saying 'Do not swallow' and spraying deodorant in my eye I eventually make it downstairs.
The sight that greets me would have been funny under any other circumstances. But as it is, it's not funny at all.
Taylor is standing in the doorway with her arms spread out, blocking any possible forms of exit as a furious Spencer repeatedly tries to push her away. I guess she really doesn't want to talk to me.
Taylor looks like she's about to piss herself with fear as Spencer takes a run up and slams into her again but she absorbs the impact, barely moving an inch as Spencer almost falls over from her own momentum.
"Move!"
"No."
"Move!"
"I can't! Spencer, seriously, just hear her out!" Taylor attempts to placate the fuming blonde and almost gets head butted for her efforts. Damn, I never knew that Spencer Carlin was this feisty. I have to say, I'm kind of impressed.
"Spencer…" I finally make my presence known, edging further into the hallway.
Taylor's shoulder sag with relief but she stays where she is until I can move to take her place.
"I'm just gonna go…somewhere." She says slowly and I know that it's her way of telling me to holler if things get nasty. Which they might because clearly Spencer has no qualms about using physical violence to settle a disagreement.
I don't even really know why she's so angry. I didn't even do anything to her. Not that I wouldn't have liked to. There are definitely a couple of things that I would…
Focus Ashley! We have an ABS (angry blonde situation) here. Now is not the time.
I pull myself forcibly from my own imagination and turn to look at the girl who's thrown my already overly dramatic life into yet another tailspin and my breath catches in my throat.
She's just standing there, staring at me, her big blue eyes wide and shining with confusion and an undercurrent of something else I can't quite read.
She looks stunning. Breathtakingly stunning and I just want to kiss her. I almost do until I remember that that's what got me into this mess in the first place. I'm glad to see that the ABS has seemingly defused itself on it's own because I have no idea how to calm down a woman.
Now I just have to think of something to say to end this awkward and slightly creepy silence.
"I like you."
That wasn't me.
Thanks for reading.
I've got a hot coffee date in fifteen minutes so don't have time to do newest reviewers shout-outs right now. I hope you understand and I'll double up next chapter. Thanks.