It's Chapter 10! I'm surprised that I made it this far. This is the longest chapter yet. Usually I have both points of view in one chapter, but this is only one point of view because it's so long. I didn't want to make you wait. Next chapter will be Ashley's PoV, recap and then some. I am satisfied with the first part and delighted with the second. Tell me if there are any grammar or spelling issues because even though I revised it like 10 times it was longer than usual. I have more ideas than I have time to write and I want to finish this before I start anything new. I still really want to start a new story though. Hmm. Please disregard the above.

Happy Thanksgiving (late)!

Happy reading!

I look into the dingy little mirror. Reflections give us an opportunity to examine ourselves critically. Whether out of vanity or wisdom. Whether through mirrors or people.

Spencer's PoV

I told my parents that I was going on a date. Dad as always was his jovial self, managing to make me feel that weird mix of embarrassment and love. Mom was... less enthusiastic.

"I'm going on a date tonight, Mom," I informed her when she got back from work.

"With a boy, honey? That's wonderful!" She squealed excitedly. Seriously. Someone please tell me. Didn't I already come out? For heaven's sake, how deluded can someone get?

"Yes, Mom," I said with mock delight, "He's going to come riding up on a white horse with a golden bridle. He'll sweep in, kiss me, and we'll go off to some foreign castle to live happily ever after. Oh, and have a million babies." She actually believed me for half a second, and her face lit up with glee.

First it was chastity and concentrate on academics. Now it's: Spencer has to have sex with a guy, any guy, and maybe she'll decide she's straight after all.

"Spencer... you know I don't-"

I can't stand that voice she uses sometimes. It makes her the victim. I'd rather have her screaming at me than stonewalling like this. If I lose my temper, well, somehow it becomes my fault because I'm the one who started yelling.

"Yes, Mom, I know you don't like me rubbing my gayness in your face. I just thought you might like to know why I would be out tomorrow night. Sorry to hear you don't care."

I stormed off and successfully avoided my mother for the rest of the day. Dinner was tense at best, but I'd never been more glad for Glen's innate idiocy. The next night came around quickly enough. I was all set to go, but right before I left, a hand fell on my shoulder. It was my mother. I simply looked at her.

"I'm worried about you, Spencer. These people can hurt you. I saw what Ashley did to you. How can you do this again?"

"Is a guy supposed to be less likely to hurt me? You don't just give up on life because you've been hurt. If you do that life wins."

"You're going to get hurt, Spencer..." she sighed. "Don't get pregnant."

All I could do was gape as she walked away.

What's that supposed to mean?

Carmen couldn't get me pregnant so does that mean she's deluding herself again? Or is she trying to make a joke? Was she encouraging me to have sex because all she said was not to get pregnant. I gave up and just pretended to be less confounded than I was.

I arrived at Chelsea's studio with my composure recovered. The room was lit up with candles and there was food on a small table in the center. Not very creative, but still romantic. Then Carmen stepped out, her dark bangs heavy over her forehead.

"Hi."

It was kind of awkward at first. We weren't sure exactly what to say until we finally started talking about family. Turns out that part of Ashley's information was true. Carmen did come from a less privileged family, but that doesn't mean anything. It isn't fair to just associate less money with more violence. Her family was more accepting of her homosexuality than mine were. Her parents were anyways, a couple of brothers and one sister had freaked out. Like Glen though, they had gotten over it eventually. She had eight siblings in all.

Families are usually an easy thing to talk about because it always seems like similar problems are met by everyone, and all the differences are fun to discuss. I always had to be careful with Ashley though. She was always sensitive or sarcastic when the talk came to families.

Dinner was pretty simple: pork chops and salad. My father could have cooked them better, but he can cook anything better. We eventually got to talking about where we came from.

"Sometimes it's kind of lonely and unfamiliar still," I was explaining the culture shock of suddenly moving to LA. "Things were different in Ohio. Things were slower and there wasn't all this rush to get things done and out of the way. Back there we had big family gatherings on Thanksgiving and Christmas so it feels weird without all my cousins and everybody."

"There's always been a lot of people in my family, it doesn't matter where we go because all ten of us come along. I've got too much family so feel free to borrow mine." She said with a laugh.

"What was it like in San Diego?" I'd never been there, but I'd heard nice things about it.

"It was quieter than here, but I'm betting it's a whole lot busier than in Ohio."

We both grinned for a moment, then fell silent.

"Were you born in San Diego?" I asked, breaking the stillness. She blew a breath upwards, causing her bangs to flutter upwards like curtains over a heater.

"No, I was actually born here in LA, but we moved to San Diego when I was a sophomore. We obviously didn't stay there too long."

"Well, then are you glad to be back? Have you seen anyone you used to know?"

"No, not really," she muttered. I didn't know which of one my questions she was answering. Before I could puzzle over it for too long she returned my question. "What about you? Do you like it in LA? Are you glad you moved?"

I mulled it over a little before proceeding carefully, "I don't really like it here. It's fun for a getaway, but after awhile all the glamour wears off and you're just left with a lot of superficial people. I'm glad I came though. Even though my brother died, but there's a lot of people I'm glad I met. I probably wouldn't have realized that I was gay yet if it weren't for... Ashley." I halted at Ashley's name.

"Was she your ex?" Carmen probed gently, "the one that hurt you?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Right, I thought sarcastically. I'd be delighted to relive all my Ashley trauma. Where to start?

"What do you want me to say? That she left me and went to Europe when my brother died or that she came back pregnant?" I replied bitterly.

"I'm sorry, we can talk about something else." She soothed, but I was already on a roll and I couldn't stop.

"She made me feel like I was on top of the world, and then she left, and I didn't even see it coming." My sentences started to run together, the periods blurred by hurt. "I felt it coming though, so I don't know why it was such a big surprise. Everyone was telling me that she was poison, but I kept drinking. That's what happens when you date Ashley Davies. Seriously-"

"What?" Carmen all but sprang to her feet. "Ashley Davies was your ex-girlfriend?"

"Yeah," I replied, slightly alarmed at the sudden change in her behavior from gentle and soothing to contemptuous.

"No wonder you're a mess. All Davies knows how to do is chew up people and spit them out."

"Do you know her?" I asked cautiously. Hatred blazed in Carmen's eyes, and her face and voice were twisted with it.

"We were never friends, but I know that she's some spoiled, rich brat who always gets what she wants," Carmen spat.

"How can you say that about someone you don't really know?"

"Are you seriously defending her?" Carmen looked at me in disbelief. "This is Ashley Davies we're talking about. The biggest slut that walked through King High, and that's saying something. She thinks people should lick the ground she walks on."

"That's not a fair thing to say about someone you've never met. Ashley's nice when you meet her, and she's sensitive. She didn't get dealt the best cards in life-" Carmen laughed derisively over my words.

"Poor, poor Ashley, she must be so deprived in that mansion of hers. She must be lacking so much when mommy drops a couple hundred dollars on her." She taunted scornfully.

"Are you jealous?" I asked, furrowing my brow at Carmen's tone.

"No, I'm not," she spat, "Nobody gets dealt wonderful cards. It doesn't give her the right to be a bitch, just like it doesn't give me the right to-"

She blew out a deep breath and made a deliberate effort to calm down. "I'm sorry I kind of exploded. I just don't get how you can still defend her." I didn't offer an answer because I wasn't sure either. After a period of silence I came up with something to say.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" She nodded, seemingly calmer now. I still had the feeling that she was seething under the surface. We walked to an empty park around the block. I still got a strange feeling whenever I realized that you had to go somewhere special to seen naturally growing grass or trees in L.A. The park had plenty of grass and little paths with sporadic streetlamps along their length. Immediately I started down a path, but I didn't know why until I consciously heard the faint strains of music in the distance. I couldn't hear well enough to know the pitch, but it was definitely there.

After a while I couldn't hear the music anymore, and I walked faster, straining to hear it again. After a while I saw a shape someone was walking out of the darkness towards us. The shape became more definite and my first reaction was fear of some misshapen monster until I realized that it was only somebody holding a large object. The person sidled to the left (their right) to let me and Carmen through the path. The lamplight being right behind them, I could only make out a silhouette. We were only about three feet away when I discerned the person's features. Before I could fully register who it was, she spoke.

"Spencer?" Ashley, of course. We just had to be walking down the same path in the same park on the same night at the same time.

"Hello, Ashley," I greeted in my most civilized, if weary, tone. Her knuckles whitened visibly on the guitar she held despite the blinding mix of dark and light, and her eyes swept across me and Carmen.

"What are you doing here?" I hate when people do that. You know how they ask you a question they already know the answer to, and you have to give an awkward reply?

"I'm on a date." I stated flatly. Ashley's eyes narrowed and her keen brows drew together in contained anger and possibly envy.

"With her-" She began but was cut off when Carmen stepped into her space and snarled.

"Yes, with me. And she's a whole lot better off with me than you. I'm not a filthy rich, sniveling baby who cries herself to sleep because," Carmen's tone became mocking, "-horror -mommy and daddy don't love me. They're not here and I'm all alone with my fancy car and swimming pool." Her voice returned to normal, "And I sure as hell don't use that as an excuse to be a bitch and a whore." The two were inches away from each other now. Ashley was livid, and Carmen was sneering. I knew I should intervene, and I tried coughing loudly and clearing my throat but to no avail.

"No, of course you don't," Ashley retorted. "You just use it as an excuse to beat people up." She adopted a whiny voice, "Oh no, I have a horrible life so now I'm going to attack other people because I'm not getting enough love at home."

"Shut the fuck up," Carmen fumed. Her sharp offense made it hard to doubt Ashley's accusations. The argument was getting into dangerous waters. Carmen and Ashley were both stabbing at old sores. I spoke in conciliatory tones.

"Now look, let's all-" I was cut off by Carmen who was spitting fire.

"At least I'm not an unlovable bitch. Didn't daddy want you? Weren't you his favorite little girl? You know, except for all the others?" It was obvious from the grief on Ashley's face that Carmen had struck a decisive blow. She smirked, "Where's daddy now?"

Ashley's father was dead.

It was the work of a few seconds for Ashley rally herself and sheathe her pain in indifference and anger. The process held the heartbreaking ease of long practice.

"Carmen," I reprimanded shortly, "this isn't worth it. It's not right. Let's go." She whirled around but only to shout at me.

"What the fuck is your problem? Do you still love that bitch or something?" She stalked towards me and shoved me into a fire hydrant. Arms flailing, I tumbled over and stared at her, wide-eyed with shock. "Well? Do you?" A sharp pain burst in my ribs when her foot connected with it. Suddenly, Ashley was there, pushing Carmen ineffectively, at least it was physically ineffective. Even if she wasn't doing much to damage Carmen, Ashley took up her attention. Nimbly, she danced out of reach when Carmen turned, swinging.

"Do you even know who your father is?" Ashley jeered. "You've got a lot of nerve calling me a whore when your mother is a prostitute. She isn't much of one either. Not even two of your siblings have the same father." Carmen roared with rage, her fist lashed out and struck Ashley's cheek. While Ashley stumbled and Carmen grabbed her shirt. She began to rain blows on Ashley's body while Ashley struggled to free herself.

"You think your parents are any better? They just have a ton of money and know how to sneak around in the law." This time Carmen's fist connected with Ashley's nose and red blood spurted everywhere.

I rose off the ground and tried to pull Carmen off of Ashley, my heart thumping away in my chest. The two of them were in a full blown fight now. Both were giving it their all, but it was excruciatingly clear who the victor was going to be. I had seen the shape Ashley was in only a couple of days ago; it wasn't much of a battle, more of a beating. I saw Carmen's knee collide with Ashley's already battered face and seized Carmen's shirt trying to pull her back, but I was unable to get a firm grip with the sweat on my hands. Frantically, I attacked her head a futile attempt to stop a charging bull. I took an elbow to my already bruised ribs easily and brushed off a random body part hitting my eye as though it were a mosquito.

CRACK!

Something broke and Ashley cried out. Energy surged through me, and I kicked at the back of Carmen's legs. She went down like a ton of bricks, but pinned Ashley underneath her. Her hands reached for Ashley's throat, and Ashley thrashed violently. My efforts became hysterical: pure adrenaline and fear. Finally, I managed to get Carmen off of her. Before Carmen could punch me, I slapped her hard.

"Are you insane?" I screamed; I couldn't see straight; everything was a blur. I somehow remember Carmen looking from me: wild-eyed and panting with spent frenzy, to Ashley: now alarmingly still and weeping blood onto the pavement, in shock.

Her eyes were distant with loss. There were tears sparkling on her face in the lamplight and she released a guttural sort of sound and ran.

I could only gaze dazedly after her form as she disappeared into the serene darkness.

The guitar lay on the grass by the side of the path where it must have been thrown down in the heat of the moment. I was no guitar expert, but I was fairly certain that it's peggy thingies weren't supposed be broken and there shouldn't be a crack down it's center. I was more concerned about its owner though.

Ashley's face was a mask of blood, and she wasn't moving as far as I could tell. Her hands and arms looked waxy and wasted in the harsh white glare of the lamp. Her shirt was ripped and her neck was beginning to bruise. I more or less collapsed on the ground by her because when I started to kneel all my muscles just gave out.

"Ash?" I asked softly, fearful of her response. Not exactly sure what I was afraid of, but frightened all the same.

There was no answer.