Thanks for the sweet reviews on the last chapter! =)

I Love

how my head fits perfectly in your neck

Spencer's POV

"Guys, um, how did we get in here?" Glen asked tentatively while he held two drinks, one in each hand.

"We know people, Glen." Kyla answered evenly to him. There was the slightest smile on her face, like she was just pretending to be mean to him. I think she liked him too much to actually have any nastiness in her words when she spoke to him.

Ashley spoke up from beside me, her voice loud over the music. "Actually, I know people, Kyla. We wouldn't be here if it weren't for me." She shot a cold stare at Kyla.

"Be nice." I said to Ashley while I turned my head towards her. She was expressionless for a second before she smirked.

"Or what?" She countered. Then she propped her eyebrow up at me, her face dangerously close to my own.

I would have totally been up for coming back at her with some witty, semi-flirtatious comment. I tried hard to think of one but her eyes and her face were distracting me. The way her neck was exposed because her hair was up was distracting me. Her eyelashes were distracting me.

God, I really needed to get a grip.

We were at some club opening and it's true, if it weren't for Ashley, Kyla, Glen, Aiden, Chelsea, and I would not have gotten in. They were strict on age and I.D.'s. Ashley had open-mic'd at another club that the part-owner was invested in. We were golden.

Eventually we split into small fractions. Aiden found some random girl to buy a drink and charm over with stupid comments and stupid grins. Kyla dragged Glen to the dance floor in a rare moment of cuteness, for her, at least. I could see them dancing and they were whispering in each other's ears. It looked way more intimate for friends. They were all over each other.

That's when Ashley's mouth found it's way to my ear and whispered "You want a drink?"

That's when I thought, do people ever look at me and Ashley in the way I just looked at Glen and Kyla? Too close for friends but not together. Is that possibly the reason that people always ask us if we're together? Like the usher at the movie theater. Like the girl at the coffee shop. And, unfortunately, like the girl at Slant who asked us if she could "join us."

I turned my attention to Ashley and her question. "Yeah sure." I smiled at her.

"Spencer." Chelsea said from beside me as Ashley glided over to the bar to obtain some kind of alcoholic beverage. I kind of hoped she just got me a beer. I was not in the mood for hard alcohol.

"Chelsea." I replied in the same tired tone she had used.

"Spencer!" She half yelled now. I didn't get the point of this little game.

"Chelsea." I said again, this time laughing at her.

"Come on, could you want her more?" She exaggerated her words. Like we were in some Shakespearean drama production.

"Want? Want who more? More than what?" I wasn't nervous to play stupid. I was coming out of the denial phase, but still slightly there. Her claims, whatever they were going to be, had no support.

Or so I thought.

"Don't play stupid." Chelsea said reading my over-active mind. "You're not good at hiding it, you know." She thought for a short second. "I think she feels the same way."

"Chelsea!" I sincerely exclaimed this time. "You have no idea what you're talking about and neither do I."

"Ugh, fine play dumb." She paused. "Ashley." She said this as her eyes slowly started to narrow and dig into my own.

"Ashley's my best friend. If either of us had more intentions, it would have happened already." I said with a slight edge in my voice. My comment came with a caustic bite to it. And that is the exact moment I came out of my denial and entered acceptance. I wanted so incredibly badly to believe what I had just said. As bad as a kid wants a bike under the tree on Christmas. My statement was supposed to defer Chelsea and myself from the impending truth of the situation.

But then it struck me totally the wrong way. Yes, I wanted Ashley. Was what I said true? If either of us had other intentions beside friendship, would it have happened already? Was what Chelsea said true? Did Ashley feel the same way? Obviously Chelsea was wrong, because something would have happened already if she were right. Right?

I was confusing myself more with this line of thinking. If nothing had happened yet, does that mean nothing would ever happen? I so desperately wanted to not believe that.

But a little voice inside my head was saying "Get over it, Spencer."

As my mind was working itself into a frenzy at that very moment, that is when I chose to look over at Ashley. I looked for comfort but found only a stinging pain right in my chest.

There Ashley was, in some deep conversation with some girl I had never seen before. She was very skinny, and very pretty, and very…supermodel-y. The semi-supermodel was leaning into Ashley spectacularly close.

I knew there were girls and guys alike who wanted Ashley. How could I blame them? I knew girls hit on her all the time. But I had never seen it up close and personal, in the flesh. So intense like this. This semi-supermodel was obviously not playing around. Her hand was on Ashley's thigh and she was whispering something, probably something sexy and cool, into Ashley's ear. My lungs felt like they were going to explode. Was that what I had to be like if I ever wanted a chance?

Did I even have a chance?

Chelsea gazed in my direction, looked at what I was staring at, probably saw the foam coming out of my snarling mouth, and then her eyes were on mine. She raised her eyebrows at me, accentuating the fact that she was dead-on. That she was right.

And then Ashley and the semi-supermodel were in front of Chelsea and I. No one talked yet as Ashley handed me my drink. I took it without looking at her.

"This is Carrie. Carrie, this is Spencer and Chelsea." Ashley broke the silence and said. Carrie the semi-supermodel had her hands around Ashley's waist and a stupid, stupid, stupid smile on her face, showing off her overly white teeth.

I told my eyes to burn holes into her slender arms that were draped around Ashley.

"Hi, nice to meet you." Chelsea said in an over-nice way.

Carrie the semi-supermodel said something but I didn't know what it was. Then she looked at me.

"Uh, hi." I said, keeping my eyes on her and focusing all of my energy on not looking at Ashley.

There was some sort of conversation about how they knew each other and blah blah blah. I didn't care.

Then Carrie the semi-supermodel was dragging my best friend away saying, "Let's dance babe!"

I would have loved to throw my beer bottle at her pretty head. Besides the point that I was just a tad jealous, I was angry. Angry because that was the kind of girl that Ashley was in to. I didn't even want to imagine how many clones of Carrie the semi-supermodel Ashley had been with. And besides from being angry, I was upset. Because I could never be like that. And if I could never be like that, then I could never be Ashley's.

"What a whore-bag." I said slightly slurred as I commanded the bartender to give me another shot.

Screw not wanting hard alcohol.

"God Spencer, you said whore, you must be pissed." Chelsea said from beside me sitting on a barstool, "So will you admit now that you're jealous?"

I looked pointedly at her and squinted my eyes. "Sure, I'm jealous that whore-bag is consuming all of my best friend's time."

"Just like you're consuming all the vodka behind the bar?" Chelsea laughed slightly, knowing that was all she was going to get out of me.

"Exactly." I told her. I was at the point of being not-totally-able-to-stand-drunk. "Would you go out with me?" I asked Chelsea and she just laughed at me again.

"Of course Spencer. If I were gay." She said with a comforting smile on her face. "You're totally hot."

I snorted at this comment and banged my hand stupidly on the bar. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Chelsea giggled.

I knew she was just trying to make me feel better. I knew she didn't know the whole extent of the situation, but she still was trying to comfort me, make me laugh. And I loved her insanely for it. My spirits were lifting slightly, partly from Chelsea and partly from Mr. Svedka who made deliciously good vodka.

And then all of a sudden those spirits, who so egotistically thought that they would rise and make me feel okay, were shot down. Down to the very pit of my stomach. There was Ashley and Carrie the semi-supermodel against the wall of the club, attached to ear other's faces. I saw Carrie the semi-supermodel's hands all over my best friend. My best friend who I was starting to think I was stupidly in love with. My best friend, who I wished so badly would touch me like she was touching that stupid whore-bag.

They were not being very sneaky in their actions and movements, because I was across the room at the bar and I could still understand what was going on. And then Carrie the semi-supermodel dragged Ashley to the girl's bathroom and I thought I might throw up all of the vodka and beer that I had dumbly thought would keep me safe.

"I have to go." I mumbled a rushed comment to Chelsea as I took off out of my barstool to go outside to breathe some fresh air.

Or throw up and then breathe some fresh air.

I stood outside in the cool L.A. evening and leaned my head against the brick wall. There were people all around. Some trying to get in, some with significant others. Some, like me, by themselves. I tried to throw up, buy I only ended up dry-heaving like an idiot.

I felt a presence next to me and honestly didn't expect it to be Ashley. Surely her hand was too far up Carrie the semi-supermodel's skirt to come outside.

"You okay?" Ashley's words came out softly and tenderly, the exact opposite of what I as feeling. I brought my head to look at her and I could already see the hickey forming on her beautiful neck.

"Obviously not!" I party yelled and then coughed. I was in a drunk, emotional state of mania.

"Come on Spence, let's get you h-" She started to say as she came closer but I cut her off and pushed her away.

"No. I'm fine. Get back to your whore-bag." I spat at her and shot daggers at her with my eyes.

Her expression turned from tender to pissed within two seconds. "You're not."

"Yes I am. Ashley. Don't you have someone to feel up?" I asked sarcastically and crossed my arms over my chest to stop myself from touching her in any kind of way. That would make me lose my resolve and it seemed like I was succeeding in my mission to be a bitch.

"Yes, I do." Ashley said meanly to me. "What's your problem, what's it to you?" She said loudly at me. "Why are you being a bitch, I can do whatever I want."

We were both drunk and stupid. But that didn't stop me from being even more of a bitch.

"Good. I don't give a shit what you do." I turned my back to her and started to walk way. When she didn't come after me, I yelled over my shoulder to her just standing there. "Go find more random girls to fuck!"

And that was that. I left and she didn't come after me and I was pissed. But was I really expecting her to come after me after I had been a total jerk to her? The line between who was right and who was wrong was blurred to me, even as the cool air sobered me up. Even though my nastiness was unwarranted, because she had no idea how I felt about her and how it tore me to pieces inside to see her like that with other girls, I was still angry. And I was still upset because we had never fought like that before.

The next morning I was hung-over quite nicely and still stupidly angry and upset. As everything came back to me when I trudged down the stairs, I became more infuriated at both the way I had acted and the way Ashley just hooked up with random girls in bathrooms. I was infuriated at the way that upset me and I was infuriated that she didn't come after me. And I was even more infuriated in thinking she would when I was a bitch to her.

And there, the girl that I was a bitch to, the girl I unfairly yelled at, was. On my couch.

Ashley stood up when she saw me. I was surprised, it was early and Ashley was still in the same clothes.

The immediate joy I felt when I first saw her disappeared when I saw her in the same clothes she was in last night and with that hickey fully formed on her neck. I stared into her eyes for a minute before I turned around and went back to my room. Ashley got the hint and followed me closely up the stairs and inside, where she closed the door to bedroom and looked at me.

I stood with a good amount of distance between us. No one said anything yet. To say it was awkward would be like to say Hitler was not very nice. An understatement.

"Spencer." Ashley said hoarsely.

"You're wearing the same clothes." I stated, having nothing else to say. Hearing her say my name like that, that simple action, was tearing my angry walls down already.

"Oh. Spencer. It's not." She looked around the room quietly, trying to find the words in the walls. "I didn't sleep."

By the way she said this, I knew she didn't mean she didn't sleep because she was busy with Carrie the semi-supermodel. She meant it in a different way.

"Why not?" I asked.

She shrugged. "You were upset at me. I couldn't." Her eyes were insanely sad as she looked at me.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you. I'm sorry." I said to her. Because I was sorry, I had to apologize. But this didn't mean I was any less upset.

"It's fine. I deserved it." She said slowly, the frown on her face becoming more prominent.

"What? No you didn't Ash, I was being a jerk. I have no say in what you do, I'm sorry." I told her honestly. My heart was tensing at how she thought she deserved it, when she really didn't.

"Yes you do." She said immediately after. "You have everything to do with what I do. I can't do something that upsets you. I- I couldn't sleep because you were mad. I can't have you upset because, because of dumb things I do." She said, losing her breath while moving her hands around.

"Ashley." I said as I stepped towards her. She took these steps as an excuse to walk to me and hug me tightly.

"I'm sorry I didn't come after you." She said in a low voice.

I told myself not to cry. To please not sob into her neck. "I'm really sorry I was a bitch and I'm sorry I walked away." I said honestly, my voice cracking.

What was I thinking, walking away from her?

We hugged for a little longer, both of us not wanting to even address the reason for our fight. And then went to bed. Ashley was exhausted from not sleeping and my heart and my body were tired of everything it had gone through in the past night and morning.

I draped myself carefully over her side as she hugged me closer. My head fit right into her neck and for now, I would be okay.

I realized how much I had missed having this perfect place for my head the night before. So I nuzzled a little closer and tried to go to sleep.

I tried to forget everything, while I slept peacefully with her by my side.

Peacefully, because I knew there was nothing we couldn't fix.