I'm writing a lot for some reason. If I start to fail school I blame this. It keeps drawing me away from my homework. Lots of you are catching on to the problem now, but I do things big.

Things are slow in this chapter, but they get intense in the next one.

I feel like Ashley is stuck dragging along while Spencer is rushing to get away from the past.

Also some inspiration comes from the girl in my Math class who wasn't sure if the Hare from "The Tortoise and The Hare" was a bunny or a rabbit.

I really can't stand planes anymore. I could never sleep on them, no matter how long the flight was. They're even worse now.

Ashley PoV

I dragged my body down to the kitchen. I'm not sure when. I didn't really care.

Drinking and eating, as it turns out, are necessities. Lately though, they had become more and more like chores. The type that you blow off because you really don't feel like they need to be done.

As I grudgingly ate a bowl of cereal my mother swept in and regarded me frostily.

"You're inheritance has come. Seriously, Ashley, have some self-respect. I did not give birth to a slob. When was the last time you took a shower? You will not, under any circumstances, go out looking like that. You look like a good-for-nothing bum. Imagine if anyone saw you. No daughter of mine will be seen in public looking like some sort of whore."

Not to long before such comments would have rankled me. Now they were nothing in comparison with what she could really do. Besides, she was probably telling the truth. Instead I considered the papers she had tossed at me with mild interest. It was 12.5 million dollars. My only plan with concern to my inheritance had been to move out into an apartment. That, unfortunately would require me to find an apartment to move into. I wasn't in the mood to scope out apartments all over the city. And at the very least, there were people in this house: Kyla, even if we weren't talking, Christine, when she was home (though she'd probably only encourage trouble), plus there was usually a maid or gardener every few days.

I just didn't want to be alone.

I must be a schizophrenic too (one of the few mental illnesses I haven't been diagnosed with yet) because I didn't want to be near or talk to anyone either.

The next day, when I made another migration to the kitchen I encountered Aiden carrying cardboard boxes down the steps.

What the hell?

I brushed past him coldly and made my way upstairs, ignoring his weak greeting. There I found Kyla pushing more boxes out into the hallway. She straightened up and we acknowledged each other.

"Ashley."

"Kyla."

There was an uneasy pause. Kyla's boxes blocked the way back to my room. There was no way through, unless I wanted to look like a ridiculous five-year old jumping over boxes. As a result we had reached a stalemate at the line of boxes. I had access to most of the house, but my room was on her side which mattered more to me than the rest of the house.

"I'm moving out."

"I see... you move fast."

She laughed derisively for a moment. "The inheritance came like a week ago. You've just been locked up in your hermit cave. I wasn't going to waste any time getting away from Christine." Hardly surprising.

"Oh," was my elaborate and well-thought out response.

Aiden? Were they back together? That really annoyed me. I mean you confess undying love for your girlfriends sister, but she didn't want you. And somehow, now, you're back in sugar land with your girlfriend like nothing happened?

Kyla apparently has mind-reading powers. "I'm milking his guilt and desperation."

"That's pleasant."

By means unknown to man (as far as I could tell) Kyla and I had magically managed an incredible feat of subconscious maneuvering. We were now on the opposite side of the Box Wall than we had started on. We continued to stare blankly at each other. Neither of us particularly enjoyed the awkwardness that our current relationship consisted of. Neither of us knew quite how to fix it. Personally, I preferred the hate that had been my initial reaction to her arrival than this forced politeness.

I think she realized that I didn't ask Aiden to go proclaiming love. On the other hand she probably still resented it. On my behalf I didn't want her to leave me with the servants and Christine. I wasn't too keen on her prying into me either. Finally, she started to talk.

"Are you okay, Ash? You've been kind of off since you came back. And you and Sp-".

At the beginning of her name all thoughts of reconciliation froze in my head. I was through my door faster than the Bunny before he took a nap.

Or was that the Rabbit?

Whatever. You know what I mean.

Spencer's PoV

So how exactly do you go about telling someone that you're gay?

You'd think that after having a girlfriend already I'd be a little more comfortable with that. I feel like the second time is worse than the first. Ashley was my first girlfriend and she knew that. She knew that I needed her to guide me. The second time though, it's like everybody expects you to know how to go about everything.

Now that I've got a new friend how do I tell her that I'm gay? Oh, and I think that she's kinda cute. Mustn't forget that.

Carmen and I started hanging out more and more often. My parents liked her which I almost resented seeing as my mother would lecture me every time I even mentioned Ashley's name. I tried to keep the resentment to a minimum because dating Ashley Davies was the worst idea of my life. Also, if my mom finally decides to accept my friends, well, who am I to be complaining?

I wanted to get away from Ashley. I wanted to move on. Carmen was nice, but I hadn't known her for that long. I definitely didn't know her sexual orientation. With Ashley it was easy. Between Madison and Ashley's own blatant ways it wasn't much of a secret. Even though she didn't seem like the type, I couldn't be sure that Carmen wasn't a homophobe.

Finally, when we were just in my bedroom, talking, I attempted to find out.

"So ever had any nice boyfriends?" I asked. That didn't sound weird at all.

"Umm, no," was her reply. Well that told me a lot. (I really had to do something about this sarcastic streak.)

There was silence. So much for that conversation.

"Who's that in all the pictures?" She finally asked. I followed her pointing index to the photos on my dresser. Most of them had Clay in them. There used to be ones of Ashley up there too. Needless to say those are gone.

"That's Clay. He's- was my adopted brother. He died in the prom shooting last year. He was Chelsea's girlfriend." I closed my eyes. I'd gotten better when it comes dealing with Clay's death, but I couldn't help feeling so painfully sad.

Sad. It's such a first grade word, but sometimes those are the only words that can encompass the truth.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I- my best friend died when a guy shot him during a mugging. He never knew when to stay still or listen." Silence ensued once more before me moved on to less dismal subjects.

At some point Dad poked his head through the door to ask if Carmen wanted to stay dinner. She nodded and about half an hour later we were eating dinner.

Carmen remained unfazed through grace and managed survive my mother's eager, but polite questions. It was a stark contrast to the awkward family dinners that Ashley had been a part of.

"Sorry about my family, they're just weird sometimes."

"It's okay, Spencer. They're not that bad."

"Are you kidding me? You did notice my brother right? And my mother?" I stared disbelievingly at her.

"They could be worse, though your brother..." she trailed off.

"Yeah. Don't bother trying."

We laughed for a moment at Glen's less than stellar attempts to charm Carmen.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom, I'll meet you in my room," I said once we had reasonably controlled ourselves. After a bit, (my mother caught me on my way out of the bathroom) I joined Carmen back in my room.

"Not to sound like I was going through your stuff or anything, but I stepped the edge of this and tripped. It was underneath your bed, but there was a little poking out. Somehow I can't picture you wearing this," she said amused. She's holding out a shirt that has "Kiss My Ass" written on it in bold red letters. The shirt was also rather skimpy as it was, of course, Ashley's. My throat seized as I remembered the night she had tried to convince me to let her wear it to dinner with my mother.

"It's my ex's." I answered, doing my best to keep my voice from getting short and bitter.

"Oh... your ex's?" She asked uncertainly. I couldn't blame her. The shirt was definitely designed for a girl.

"Yeah. My ex-girlfriend's," I confirmed not looking at her.

So I was surprised when I heard a muttered "Thank God."

"What?" I was confused, and my eyes darted back to hers.

She gave a relieved and slightly embarrassed grin. "I was wondering if you would freak out if I told you that I was gay, especially since you guys are so religious. But obviously..." she gestured at the shirt.

It only took a second before we were laughing all over again.