A/N: So I realized the things I was using to break apart the sections weren't showing up and that makes the whole story kind of weird which is why you probably got an alert that all 8 chapters were put up again because I was trying to fix it. So didn't work...haha annoying. I guess I'll have to figure out a new way of breaking up the parts in a chapter. Sorry for the later realization. :/

Have you ever been sleeping or had your eyes closed and you just felt like something was trying to pry them open? Like, not literally but they just kept slowly opening and you weren't sure why? Right now its exactly 3:38am and I can't sleep because my eyes keep opening and the room is so dark that I can't see my body but my tongue is really dry and and I'm thirsty and my throat is kind of scratchy. There's a figure laying next to me and I know for a fact this time that it is Spencer and I also know for a fact we did not have sex.

I turned my head and after I blinked several times my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I saw Spencer deeply sleeping with her arm resting on her stomach on her skin where her shirt was raised up to around where her bra starts, "Spencer?" I asked really quietly because I'm almost hoping my words don't wake her. She doesn't move.

Slowly, I pulled my body up and walked towards the door, being really cognizant of any noise I might make and tip toed out into the living room to find remnants of anything. It wasn't as dark in the living room and really it kind of looked like it did when I last left it. There were a couple puddles on the wooden floor of booze that had been spilled and some plastic coups strewn about, and an empty couch with too many stains on it for my liking. I walked over to the sliding glass door to see empty tables and empty cans of Coors scattered among the grass and pavement but not a soul.

The whole thing was like a fucking ghost town. I meandered into the kitchen and to my surprise I found no David and no anybody and the only thing I saw were scattered shot glasses on the kitchen table with an empty bottle of Jager and two-thirds empty bottle of Cuervos. I found a bag of ruffles sitting on the counter and grabbed them as I sat on one of the chairs at the table, munching away.

"Eating all my chips?" I hated that voice but I kind of smiled as I turned around to face the heavy guy who threw the amazing parties.

I lifted the bag in offer to him, "Want some?"

He waved his hand as if to say not a single chip, "I'm good, but thanks," he just eyed me. I couldn't tell what kind of expression read on his face and I think that he could have bouts of seriousness if he wanted, but I'm sure I'd never know.

He shuffled over to me in his exhaustion and leaned against the kitchen door frame, "Spencer took good care of you."

And I couldn't tell what emotion was burrowed within that statement. Irritation, pleasant surprise, relief, disappointement (why that'd be there I don't know...it's Billy), adoration, ridicule, "I guess she did didn't she?"

"That's not something you guess at. She did. No question."

"She's a good friend."

"She cares about you, you know?"

"I'd hope so. I like my friends to care about me," I didn't look up at him, exploring the ruffles bag for the crumbs.

"I've known Spencer for years…," he began and oh shit this sounds like a long fucking speech that I have no sense for at almost 4am. He yawned, "Long time. She grew up here, as did I. We went to the school down the street. She almost won Prom Queen, I think she was short like 8 votes."

"What is the point of this?" I winced at my own irritation. He did throw kick ass parties.

"I'm saying I know her a lot better than she thinks I do. A lot better than most people think I do and what I'm saying is I've never seen Spencer look at anybody the way that girl looks at you."

I rested my head on the table, the weight of this conversation too heavy to really hold my head up at any decent level, "I can't help it if I'm not gay, Billy."

He shook his head in disapproval, "I swear to god, Ashley, if you hurt her…," he looked around the kitchen, hoping to find a threat laying in an empty cereal box in one of the open cabinets, "I'll never invite you to another party again," he smiled, trying to make light of his threat that was actually a very serious one.

"If she gets hurt she's hurting herself."

"Don't lead her on!" his irritation was growing and he was a big guy. You didn't want to fuck with him.

"I'm not!"

He shook his head again, "Go back to sleep, Ashley."

I stood up abruptly, "Fine!" I waltzed back into the bedroom and layed down quietly, never awaking Spencer. She was still in the same position. She was not a mover which was a complete 180 from me because I moved every five minutes. I didn't really fall back to sleep at all the rest of the night, but I kept my eyes closed, trying to relax.

I want to say it was around 10ish that I felt the bed kind of shaking which meant Spencer was waking. I opened my eyes and turned over on my side to get a better view of her stirring. Her eyes were closed in frustration, apparently she didn't like her body's alarm clock waking her so early as she tossed but couldn't fall back to sleep and with a groan she sat up, scanning the room.

"You're up!" I greeted excitedly.

She blinked a couple times, focusing her vision and she looked down at me and smiled sleepily, "Thanks captain obvious."

I slapped her thigh gently, reprimanding her insult, "I woke up at like 3:30 and haven't been able to sleep since."

"You were out by 10:15."

"Man, I suck," I closed my eyes, irritated at myself.

"It happens to us all."

"Did I say anything stupid?" I asked her a little worried, "I mean I remember last night but not with clarity of every detail."

She put her hand to her chin in pseudo thought, "Nothing stupider than what you'd normally say."

"Did I put the moves on anybody? I've been known to do that when I'm drunk. I don't know why."

"Maybe you're a horny drunk," she pondered, half concerned.

"I don't know. Maybe."

"You told me I was pretty," she smiled cockily and wiggled her eye brows as she turned away to continue scanning the room in sleepy haze.

My face turned bright red, I'm sure, even through my fairly olive complexion because I never complemented people, ever, "I'm a nice drunk."

She rolled her eyes not pleased with my answer, "Drunken words are sober thoughts."

"Whatever. It's not like you don't know your pretty," I rolled over on my side facing the wall, trying to force sleep to grace me with its presence.

She shrugged. I didn't see it but I could hear it just because I knew she was shrugging, "Too true."

"Where's Aiden?"

"I told him that I'd take you home."

"I wonder if he drank anything," I mused out loud.

"I think he might have had a beer, but that's it. I wouldn't have let him get in his car if he'd had much more."

"Good to know."

"Breakfast?"

"Huh?" I asked eagerly, rolling back over onto my back to face her.

"Want to go get breakfast before I take you home?"

I tried not to seem too enthusiastic about Spencer's offer for food as I shrugged but my eyes lit up at the mention of it that wouldn't go unbeknownst to anyone, especially Spencer, who'd taken a liking to studying me, "I guess."

She just stared at me, expressionless for a minute and it began to make me uncomfortable because I couldn't take being under a microscope. I started to fidget and my eyes moved from side to side with the casual noise I'd make due to the unease I was feeling.

"Let's go!" she let out cheerily and got up grabbing a grey hoodie that lay on the ground and a pair of jeans that lay beside it and it didn't dawn on me until now that all she was wearing was a grey wife beater and underwear.

I stared for a little too long, I know, because I was trying to make sense of why she had no pants on, but I willed it to be something of her own doing, having nothing to do with anything between us and stood up from the bed, "Ew what's on my shirt?" I asked, trying to rub it out.

She walked closer and grabbed my shirt where the spot was, eyeing the mark and her face scrunched in disgust, "Probably throw up."

"I can't wear this in public."

"Why not?"

"It has thow up on it!" I hissed.

Clearly frustrated, she sighed and unzipped her hoodie, handing it to me, "Just wear this."

"Won't you be cold?"

"It's August in Los Angeles, Ashley. Get real."

We sat in the diner and this kind of felt like deja vu except for it was 11am and I was hung over as hell and I ordered waffles this time.

"Ay dios mijos," I groaned and my head fell forward on the table making the glasses shake a little bit. I didn't have to look to know that Spencer pre cautionarily held her glass.

"You speak spanish?" she asked, interested and I let out an inaudible groan, "What's the matter buttercup?"

"My head is killing me."

"It wasn't hurting you an hour ago…"

"It was kind of a soft throb and now its going full force."

Her face showed her sympathy and how she was powerless to do anything, which I thought was sweet, "Do you want to leave?"

My head shot up faster than you could imagine and my eyes bulged, "Not until I get my waffles!"

"Ashley!" a voice called out from behind me and I kind of let out a frustrated noise. I loved Olivia but I didn't want her joining us right now.

I gave a half wave accompanied by a crooked smile, "Hey there…"

Julian strutted in along beside her and I swear, he made it his mission to always look good. A light blue and white striped tank top with black pants. He wore chanel sun glasses and I momentarily wondered how he could afford them considering he was your typical college student going to FIDM to become a marketing excecutive. His hair was always faux hawked perfectly and he patted his hair as he walked over, probably double checking his doo. He was a pretty guy. Not my type. But, very pretty.

"Hey gorgeous," he smiled as he slid in the booth next to me, using his finger to rub the abnormally large bags under my eyes and he frowned, "Sleepy?"

"Bad night."

"I feel great," Olivia beamed, looking over at Spencer who looked a bit stiff.

"You couldn't possibly. You drank easily as much as I did."

She shrugged, "Magic!"

"I'm serious livs how did you do it?"

She shrugged again, "I honestly don't know. I just passed out and woke up this morning, ate a whole loaf of bread and-"

"Whoa. You ate a whole loaf of bread?" Spencer asked, snapping out of whatever trance she was in.

"I was so hungry."

"And you're sure you didn't throw up last night?"

She shakes her head and smiles cutely. Typical Oliva.

They ordered their food and as usual Olivia got two eggs over medium with rye toast and hashbrowns. It always grossed Julian out when Olivia poured an excessive amount of ketchup on her hashbrowns because he didn't think ketchup was normal, "I'm telling you girl, that shit's not normal," he looked pained to watch. See. Told you.

"Ketchup is the food of the gods, Julian," she stated evenly, not looking up from smacking the bottom of the bottle, letting the contents flood her hashbrowns.

Julian got his typical cobb salad and I swear...my friends are really predictable. I'm the only one who changes it up a bit, "So, Spencer," Julian began and finished chewing his fork full of salad, "You and Ash all tight now?"

She looked at me and smiled, "I guess you could say we're friends."

"You guys going to do the nasty again?" he asked, interest clearly piqued.

"Julian stop," I warned.

"Yeah, what's it like having sex with Ashley?" Olivia joined, "I mean not the details but I mean, how does it feel knowing you broke down some pretty tough walls that I'm pretty sure are made of steel."

"I was drunk," she let out baffled at their questions.

"Does she do anything...icky?" Julian asked leaning forward like a child hearing a bedtime story and it'd gotten to the good part.

"Guys!" I yelled, "Uncalled for," they all looked at me a little surprised, even Spencer at my outburst and I looked down embarassed and continued to eat my waffles.

"So you're really a lesbian?" Julian asked Spencer, acting like my reprimanding never happened.

"Definitely."

He stuck out his hand, "Welcome to the all gays straights excluded club."

Spencer laughed, "I think I've been in this club since I was seven."

He nodded knowingly, "Three."

"Ah. Yeah, sorry, Ashley and Olivia have to leave. Straights aren't allowed at this table," Spencer told us smugly.

I pouted and Olivia laughed at my pout and Spencer glared at my pout but she couldn't do it, "You can stay."

I smiled and continued to eat because as the sun beamed in through the window all too brightly, and as Olivia made a horrific mess of bloody hash browns that mortified Julian and while Spencer gnawwed at her bacon silently with a hum, I knew that things in this moment were good, except I couldn't help but feeling a slight pang of something unknown in my body. Of doubt and of unease but I pushed it aside with my empty, gooey plate and sighed in relief.