CHAPTER TWO
The shower proved to be as refreshing as Spencer had hoped. Upon getting out and re-styling her hair, she felt like a new woman, ready to brave the unknown.
When she emerged into the living room, she found Hanna passed out on the couch from exhaustion. One of her arms hung limply over the side, the remote having fallen from her grasp and onto the floor.
Spencer rolled her eyes good-naturedly and picked up the remote control, replacing it on the coffee table. As she did this, she found herself eyeing the planner suspiciously. Compromise, she reminded herself, resisting the urge to put the planner away in Hanna's purse.
Instead, to distract herself, she began pulling out her text books and spreading them across the dining room table. Might as well get a head start before classes commenced. Her Introductory Psychology book looked particularly inviting, so she opened to the first reading assignment of the semester according to the online syllabus.
It was a Freudian chapter.
She groaned inwardly, knowing just what kind of lessons it would entail. Defense mechanisms, such as denial and repression. Two words she was positively not interested in hearing right now. She slammed the heavy book shut with a definitive THUMP.
"Huh? What?" Hanna cried out, shooting up into a sitting position on the couch. "Was that a gun shot?"
The corner of Spencer's mouth turned upward in a half-smile. "Hardcover text books. Try taking a look at one someday."
"Ugh," Hanna spat distastefully, stretching. "What's for dinner?"
"We still have to go grocery shopping," Spencer replied, indicating the empty cupboards behind her.
"Yeah, screw that," Hanna decided, waving a hand dismissively in Spencer's direction. She seemed to consider this for a moment before her face lit up. "Let's go out! It's our first night on campus. We might as well look around a bit!"
Spencer sighed. To be honest, she was exhausted. She would have been content to just order a pizza and call it a night. But Hanna had neglected to await a response, and was already putting her pumps back onto her perfectly-pedicured feet.
"Where to?" she muttered in surrender.
"I dunno!" Hanna chirped, suddenly wide-awake. She was shoving her keys and cell phone into her purse. "Let's go, c'mon!"
Spencer, who had not moved from her position at the dining room table, exhaled heavily in frustration, piling her text books and standing.
"Are you wearing that?" Hanna asked suspiciously, indicating Spencer's simple jeans and flannel top.
"Yes, Han," Spencer declared strictly, her stomach suddenly rumbling at the prospect of food. "It's only dinner. I have no one to impress."
"That's what you think now," Hanna chimed in a sing-song voice. "But we're about to meet college boys!"
"What about Caleb?" Spencer questioned. Hanna and Caleb had agreed to make the long-distance relationship work, promising to take turns visiting each other one weekend per month.
"I'm talking strictly about college boys for you, of course," Hanna corrected. "Are you at least going to put some make-up on?"
"No," Spencer decided, grabbing her own cell phone and purse. "I'm starving. Let's just go."
They made their way out of the apartment and down the stairs of the vestibule. Once outside, Spencer's exhaustion seemed to instantly subside. It was a beautiful evening. The heat had lessened considerably to a comfortable high-70s, making for much more enjoyable weather.
Hanna was practically skipping, marveling at the hubbub of the busy town. Spencer was truthfully impressed as well; she passed more people on the street in the first two minutes of their walk than Rosewood even contained.
"Here it is," Hanna declared triumphantly after a few more moments had passed. "South University."
"What?"
"South University Street," Hanna elaborated. "Has some of the best bars in town."
She had really done her socialite research.
"Hanna, we're not old enough," Spencer said rationally.
Hanna shot a devilish smirk in Spencer's direction, her eyes sparkling wildly. "Au contraire." She fished into her purse and pulled out a small manila envelope. "First of all, the bars on campus pretty much let any students in. They like the business. But, in any case, Caleb made these for us before we left. As a going away present."
"Made what?" Spencer asked suspiciously, stopping in her tracks. She heard hooting and hollering coming from a nearby frat house.
Hanna was ripping the envelope open greedily. "These, Ms. Edwards."
"Ms. what?" Spencer demanded, knowing exactly where this was going. Before she knew it, Hanna had shoved a small piece of plastic into Spencer's hands. She studied it carefully.
Just as she had suspected. A fake ID. Though, she had to admit, it looked completely legit. It even had her exact driver license photograph, seamlessly edited in. Caleb certainly knew his way around the system.
"Amber Edwards?" she said gruffly. "Do I strike you as an 'Amber'?"
"I don't know," Hanna mused, slinging her blond hair over her shoulder. "Caleb made it, not me."
"And what's your new name?" Spencer asked sarcastically, crossing her arms.
"Trisha Maybelline," Hanna gushed.
"Maybelline? Really?"
She shrugged. "I got to pick my own."
"Jesus," Spencer breathed, unable to tear her eyes away from the deceptive identification. "Hanna, we'll never get away with this."
"Sure we will," Hanna dismissed. "Have a little fun, Spence. Take a walk on the wild side."
Spencer sighed heavily. She had never been much of a risk taker. She knew, however, that Hanna had spent years perfecting the art of deception. She had even gotten away with shoplifting from expensive, security-heavy department stores for an extended period of time.
...Before she got caught, anyway.
"Are you sure?" Spencer asked carefully.
"Positive. Now shut up and look 21," Hanna stated strictly. She looked across the street. "Ah. There it is. Good Time Charley's."
Spencer followed Hanna's gaze to be met with the bright glow of the sign. Dozens of students had gathered at the tables on the patio, and through the front window she saw that even more were crowded inside.
"C'mon," Hanna urged, beginning to skip over the cross-walk.
"I - I dunno," Spencer continued to protest, following hesitantly behind.
"Fine," Hanna said flippantly, stopping at the front doors with her hand resting on the handle. "Go home. Be a stick-in-the-mud. But I'm going in." With that, she had swung the door open and was gone before Spencer could blink.
She stood there for a moment, weighing her options. She knew in her subconscious that she should just go home...But Hanna was trying her damnedest to make their first night as college students a memorable one. And Spencer knew that without Hanna, she may not allow herself to have any fun.
She took a deep breath and walked in.
The music was deafening upon entrance. It was one of Kesha's songs, blasting through the stereos. Several people were dancing in a corner, making a sloppy mess of their alcoholic beverages. There were couples tucked into corner booths, affectionately cuddling and whispering sweet nothings. Ironically enough, there was also a table of Asian students who were actually studying.
"AMBER!"
It took Spencer a moment to register that Hanna was yelling for her. She turned and saw her broadly waving her arms from the bar. She politely squeezed through people to make her way over to her.
"Hey, Trish," Spencer muttered purposefully, climbing onto the stool beside Hanna. As she tried to decide where to set her purse, the bartender had returned with a Long Island.
"Here you are," he announced, placing it before Hanna. "It's $6.50. Or would you like to start a tab?"
"A tab is fine," Hanna decided, tossing a few dollars into a tip jar. "Can you get my friend here a - " she turned to Spencer expectantly, "what did you say you wanted?"
Spencer marveled at how effortless she made it look. Had Spencer been the bartender, she would have even been fooled by Hanna's carefree facade. Being an infrequent drinker, she hadn't the faintest idea of what she wanted. She had mostly stolen sips from beer cans in her teenage years. She cleared her throat and hoped that her response would come out as confidently as Hanna's.
"Sex on the beach," she murmured uncertainly.
"What?" the bartender yelled, leaning over the counter to hear her above the music.
"SEX ON THE BEACH," Spencer practically screamed, then immediately felt the red flush rise in her cheeks.
"ID please."
Oh, right. Spencer fished in her jeans pocket to recover her "present" from Caleb.
The bartender spent a moment looking it over and comparing the photograph to Spencer's face. She crossed her legs and attempted to look as grown-up as possible. At long last, after what seemed like an eternity, he placed the ID in front of her.
"Coming right up, Amber."
As he walked away to fill her order, Spencer released a heavy exhale, feeling as though she had been holding her breath that entire time.
"Relax," Hanna pleaded. "We've got this. We're in."
Spencer supposed she was right. The hardest part was over with: their IDs had been checked and verified. All that was left now was to roll with the punches.
"I still need to get something to eat," Spencer insisted as the rumbling in her stomach returned.
"Later," Hanna dismissed.
"All set!"
Spencer turned. The bartender had returned with her drink.
"Put that on my tab," Hanna stated.
"Sure thing," he agreed, and wandered away to assist other customers.
Spencer eyed the beverage uncertainly.
"Well?" Hanna pressed expectantly.
Spencer sighed. She used the tiny black straw to stir it up a bit more and took a sip. The pineapple juice gave it a bitter taste, but truthfully, it was quite delicious.
Hanna smiled. "Good?"
Spencer nodded resignedly, hating that Hanna had been right all night. They sat in silence for a few minutes, absorbing the atmosphere, quietly people-watching. Spencer wondered how many of these students had also entered with fake IDs, and how many would end up being in her classes.
"I love this song!" Hanna declared suddenly as Jennifer Lopez began to echo through the speakers. "C'mon! Let's dance!"
"But my drink..." Spencer began.
"So finish it." With that, Hanna downed the last couple sips of her Long Island and stood, clapping her hands together impatiently.
Spencer referred to her own and was surprised to see that she, too, had absent-mindedly finished most of it. She took a deep breath and gulped down the remainder, listening satisfactorily to the gurgling sound the straw made in the empty glass. She slammed it down onto the bar definitively, as she had seen in the movies, fulfilling a secret curious fantasy.
"Let's go," she decided, feeling considerably looser than she had upon arriving. She stood up quickly, and immediately regretted it. The room tilted on its axis and she felt a warm tingling sensation travel from her head to her toes.
"You all right?" Hanna asked with a small chuckle, watching as Spencer wobbled a bit. "Feeling a little buzzed? You drank that pretty fast."
"Yeah, that's what I get for drinking on an empty stomach," Spencer said uncertainly. "Walking is...different now."
Hanna burst out into laughter, taking Spencer's hand and beginning to drag her to the dance floor. They pushed through several people to get as close to the speakers as possible, for some god-forsaken reason that Hanna had insisted upon. It was loud enough in the rest of the bar that Spencer saw no need to blow out her ear drums.
Once finding a spot that satisfied her, Hanna released Spencer's hand and began swaying her hips like a pro. Spencer had never been much for dancing in public, but the liquid courage was certainly assisting her with that. The lights seemed to glow more intensely since her Sex on the Beach, and she found herself caring less about what others around her may think.
Hanna grabbed Spencer's hand again, goofily giving Spencer an elaborate twirl. Spencer laughed, inexplicably entertained by how her vision couldn't keep up with her body. It was as if her eyes were on a delayed timer, translating it to her brain seconds after her body had been there.
And then Hanna let go. Spencer attempted to stop, but the momentum combined with her jelly legs was enough to send her chaotically toward the nearest table. She clumsily fell into it, laughing hysterically as she did so. Somewhere deep down, she was surprised at the lack of embarrassment she felt.
"Sorry, sorry!" she cried, attempting to lift her body away from the interrupted conversation.
"Spencer?"
She turned abruptly. Who here would know her real name, other than Hanna?
And there he was. Sitting at the table she had just foolishly smashed into, with three other guys she didn't recognize. His bright blue eyes bore into her soul, as per usual, uncovering the hidden depths of her deepest secrets and ambitions.
For the first time in several months, she was face-to-face with Toby Cavanaugh.
TO BE CONTINUED