Hello hello, all you SUPER rockstar readers! :D I am SO happy to give you another compelling chapter to this crazy Daunting Silence story. Again and again, many many sincere apologies for the delay… I had to get it right! Complex storyline = complex character development. I think a lot of questions will finally get answers in this chapter ;) But thank you for being uber patient once again!

A hoot and a holler to Lone_Fenix, ConcealedAttraction, River. R, imaferrari, mutt009, BrownEyez44, Irishgrl33, Ryoko05, xxgirlcrushxx (super stoked to hear from you!), LoSTaNdDeLiRiOuS, degrassi1son, courting disaster, chunkymonkey3, LoLo06, SouthMGP91, I Talk-2-Evil Little Pixies, noodles307 and letsbefrankimawkward (thanks for coming back for this story!) - I Love love LOVE you guys! Thank you all SO MUCH for your feedback! I take it all in and appreciate it since it ultimately molds how this story is presented.

And thank you ALL for reading and/or providing feedback. I loves it! I haz mah bucket (oops… random comment just slipped)

*Small note: There is a transition to Ashley's POV, which is noted by divider lines.

Hope you enjoy! :) 4.4.11

Disclaimer: I do not own South of Nowhere or the characters.

I took a deep breath and let the sound of my heavy sigh fill the space around me. I kept the radio off and just felt completely stoic with my eyes glued to the road, despite the fact that sunlight would periodically beam in through hovering tree branches. I remained relatively unmoved.

It wasn't long until I found myself pulling into the apartment complex and parking the car. I started wondering how I ever got home on that short ride from campus, as I couldn't remember the actual drive. I shut the engine off and just sat there, thinking about what I'd been thinking the entire time: What was going on with Ashley? Am I really capable of making her sick and disoriented? Or maybe it's all just an act to downplay what I saw on the videotape. But, who can sweat on command like that?

After spinning myself in more circles around infinite and ridiculous possible explanations, I dragged myself out of the car and marched up to the front door.

I let myself in and proceeded to shut the door… only to hear a loud thud. I looked down to see a foot in the doorway! I gasped and instinctively pushed my body into the door.

"Spencer!"

I stopped myself before slowly backing up and nearly stumbling over as the force of the door swung back and collided into the wall with a loud bang.

"Geez!" I dropped my purse and looked up to see Ashley standing there, looking somewhat haggard.

"Sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Ash, wh-what—"

"Can I…?" She gestured, half-assing her attempt at asking permission to come in. I grabbed my chest, still catching my breath. Ashley just shook her head as if I were taking too long to respond, and just let herself in before shutting the door behind her.

"What are you doing here?" My feet drove me backwards into the living room.

She picked my purse up and placed it on the kitchen countertop. "I need to talk to you." She responded in such a grave tone as she proceeded to pace rather quickly in my direction. My feet continued to drive me backwards into the hallway.

"I-I don't—" I held my hands up.

"Can you please stand still for a second so I can talk to you?"

"Can you give me a minute?" I blurted loudly. "You kinda startled me and I'm just trying to gain my composure here, woman!"

She stopped and stood there, staring back at me with an empty expression. "Sorry," she managed to choke out.

I exhaled what felt like air trapped in my lungs for eternity as I turned to wash my hands under some cold water in the bathroom. Running my hands under cold water always helped me regroup myself, especially when I'd endure a day of suffocation from everyone's thoughts. Except this time, I needed to regroup after suffocating from my own thoughts.

I suddenly heard the door shut quietly, looking next to me to see Ashley standing against it.

"Feeling better?" She asked in a much more calming tone.

I ignored her question. "Please don't tell me you just shut that door."

"Why?" She furrowed her eyebrows, her gaze now panning down to the doorknob. Ashley gave it a violent tug, not expecting the entire knob to come off. "Oh."

"Fuck!" I growled through my teeth as I reached in to see if I can feel the slot where the spindle was, but to no avail. I knew I should've gotten this door fixed already!

"Hasn't your door been broken for awhile now?" Ashley scoffed as she started to check for loose hinges.

"Yeah, I've been meaning to get it fixed. Thanks for noticing." I sarcastically remarked.

"Where's your cell phone?" Ashley stepped back to give me some room as I grabbed the knob from her hands and attempted to re-insert it, hoping it would miraculously fix itself.

"Neatly tucked inside my purse." I tossed the useless knob into the sink and reached for tweezers in the drawer. "What's your excuse?" I gave her a dirty look before jamming the tweezers as far as the handle would let me.

"In the car."

The tweezers fell out of my hands and onto the bathroom floor.

I gave up and plopped down on the lavender rug in front of the sink, exhaling my frustrations. Ashley slowly made her way over and sat next to me, leaning against the wall I refused to look away from. I was too irritated to make eye contact.

"Don't worry." She nudged my knee. "Madison will get us out when she gets home."

"Not for another five hours," I grumbled, looking at her with disdain.

"That's fine." Ashley smirked. "Blame me for everything that goes wrong."

"Except, this time really is your fault." I whined, crossing my arms over my knees. "I'm supposed to meet Liz for lunch."

"I'm sorry." She shrugged. "I didn't know the door was still broken."

"Do you normally barge into people's apartments and charge at them?"

"I didn't mean to. I just needed to talk."

"Well, we have five hours to kill." I scoffed. "What's so important?"

She hesitated, wanting to say something, but stopping herself repeatedly. I guess she was trying to find the right words? "I need to know… what you are."

"What I am?" I half chuckled, half scoffed. "You're asking me what I am?" It came out more like a statement than a question. I then began to laugh boisterously, mostly because of the situation I've found myself in.

"Why is that such an amusing question?" She looked at me as if she really didn't know.

My, how the tables have turned. "What's it to you anyway?" I responded so haughtily.

"You're… different." Her face scrunched. "And unfortunately, it's affecting me."

My laughter died down and I cleared my throat, now taking in Ashley's serious demeanor. "So, you want me to validate whatever's affecting you so that you can convince yourself you're not crazy, right?"

"I know I'm not crazy. You're different and I want to know why." She repeated.

"Well, I'm human, if that helps any."

"C'mon, Spencer. Just answer the question."

"No! I asked you the same legitimate questions and you haven't even given me an inkling of an explanation on how you miraculously bounced off the front of an Oldsmobile and are still alive. And here you are, saying I'm different."

"You are."

"Because you sweat and hyperventilate near me? That's hardly an—"

"How did you know Yvette was looking for me at the Beverly Center?"

"Through the magical power of eyesight, I saw her walking towards us." I responded as if it should've been obvious.

Ashley shook her head. "No, I looked around. She was nowhere in sight."

"Whatever you say. I was just trying to—"

"And what did you mean when you told Madison that Aiden's thoughts don't lie?"

I didn't respond… other than exhaling sharply.

"And how did you know Leilani's name last Friday at the bar?"

Again, I remained silent.

"You're different." She concluded so matter-of-factly.

I sat there, staring back at her. I was at a loss for words as I cursed myself for not being inconspicuous enough. "Fine! I'm different. You're different." I paused. "I read minds. You're invincible." I shook my head so nonchalantly. "So what?"

"So, you can read my mind right now?" She squinted in curiosity.

"No, I can't read your mind." I sighed, stretching my legs out. "I can read anyone's mind… but yours. It's like… you're a walking fortress to me."

"And you're a walking plague to me." Ashley paused. "The question is 'why?'" Her eyes were still narrowed.

"Well, your guess is as good as mine."

"How long have you been able to read minds?"

"As far back as I could remember. I was born this way." I shrugged. "How long have you been invincible?"

"Since I was about 20 years old."

"When was that? Last year or so?"

"In the 80's actually."

My eyes grew wide. "The 80's?" And my mouth was agape. "So, you're technically… in your 40's?"

"Not quite." Ashley stretched her legs out to match my posture. "I was born in 1760, just before the American Revolution."

"WHAT?" Needless to say, I was just absolutely blown away! She's like… an ancient artifact, sitting right in front of me! "How's that even possible?" Stupid question, Spencer. How's anything impossible right about now?

"I was cursed." Ashley's face turned somber. "My whole family was. We never saw it coming."

"Your family is invincible too?"

"No," she paused briefly with a look of hurt in her eyes, "they died… long ago." Ashley began to tell the story that'd been haunting her for centuries…

I remember sitting on the cold hardwood floor, dipping cabbage heads in shallow barrels of water, trying to clean the dirt off of them. Kyla helped mother boil some carrots and potatoes. You see, in the year 1780 in Middletown, Massachusetts, there wasn't much to get by on. The American Revolutionary War had been raging on for 4 years and the British Empire had been successfully destroying many of the main ports, cutting off our supply line. It was their strategy to deplete and limit resources in hopes that the Continental Army would surrender.

I remember sitting there, trying to drown out the sounds of cannons and exploding gunpowder in the distance. It frightened me, day by day, knowing that the sounds were only growing louder as the war crept closer to my home. The sun had long set this evening, but the sky would always flash at the sight of gunfire… until it grew eerily quiet. That's when I knew that the fields ran red with the blood of slain men, and hundreds more would die the next day. We wouldn't know who'd won the battle, unless father had caught wind of it while going into town. I was fearful for the safety of my family, not knowing when or how this war would end.

My attention was drawn to the front door as I heard quick footsteps dance across the porch steps. The door swung open before father walked in and laid his rifle on the top shelf next to the doorframe. I could see the disappointment in my mother and Kyla's faces when they saw he came home empty-handed.

"No luck?" Kyla questioned pointlessly. Because of the war, the animals were constantly on the move and it made them that much more difficult to hunt. He hadn't caught a dear or rabbit for several days now.

My father sighed, shaking his head at us as he removed his coat. "Boiled vegetables and some of that dried sturgeon will do."

"We ate all that was left of the sturgeon last night." My mother grumbled. "Raef, we're going through these crops faster than we can grow them. We need to do something."

My father hardly showed any signs of concern for as long as I could remember, which is why it alarmed me when he said, "We should consider fleeing town to join your sister down south. There's not much left in town as well. Barely any bread to feed a village. The Brits are gaining more ground each day."

I was sick of the sturgeon and missed eating dried ham, but come dinner time, I would've gladly enjoyed some sturgeon with the bland vegetarian meal we were having.

After dinner, father tucked us all into bed and made sure to leave a few candles lit in our room, knowing how afraid I was. He would then take his post downstairs by the fireplace, keeping his pistol within reaching distance. I could tell that he hardly slept these days, but he did all that he could to keep us safe, despite making it very clear to the Continental Army that our family had no intention of jeopardizing our safety for their cause. At the same time, the conquering British Army had no mercy for colonists, unless they were Loyalists who pledged allegiance to His Royal Highness, or were Quakers who identified as neutral but continued their business dealings with the Brits. Our family was truly neutral, since we weren't benefiting from either side of the war. And no one contested that since we weren't seen as a threat. Regardless, I knew that one day soon, our family would be forced to pick a side.

Rain started to pour furiously against our small cottage-like home. I watched the flames on the candles dance and briefly enjoyed the soft sighs of my mother and sister near me. For a second, I felt safe. My eyelids grew heavy and stopped fighting the urge to sleep.

It felt like a few seconds later when I opened my eyes to see my mother and sister poking their heads out the bedroom door. There was a loud banging at the front door of the house, and for a moment, I hear thunder roaring, which nowadays, I easily confuse with gunfire. The loud banging continued as I followed suit with my mother and sister, peeking down the staircase to see my father approaching the door with pistol in hand.

"Who is it?" I whispered, tugging at the sleeve of Kyla's nightgown. She shrugged at me, standing closer to where my mother had braced herself against the doorframe. Kyla, for the most part, remained impassive and was often a quiet soul these days. I was often proud that my 19-year-old younger sister was no longer a child I had to shelter from the reality of it all. She was very strong and courageous, and I'd often confided in her about my fears on the war, only to be met with reassuring words. At the same time, I missed our youthful days. She smiled a lot more back then. We all did.

I saw my father crack the door open just a smidge. I could hear him mumbling something before he pulled the door open further. There, we saw a family huddling together under a wet blanket that poorly shielded them from the pouring rain – a father, his son the eldest, his wife, and two daughters who looked like they were much younger than Kyla. It turned out that this family aided in an attack on a British supply convoy and they were now looking for shelter, since the Brits still occupied the area even though the majority of the army headed south to further regain control of areas that were predominantly Loyalist.

I could barley make out what they were discussing, but I heard my father clearly say, "We don't fancy trouble around here."

"We will be gone by daybreak after the storm, I assure you." The tired, old man pleaded. "The King's men were transporting tea, bread and dried ham. Open your home to my family and we will leave you a generous share of the food." My father hesitated, but knew that the share would be enough to feed us before we fled south.

My father nodded and took a step back to welcome the family into our home. Mother finally made her way downstairs and offered the family some wool blankets to dry themselves as they sat by the fire. Kyla and I followed closely as the eldest son, Ruben, and his father, Joseph, lifted a heavy crate across our kitchen, placing it in our cupboard as my farther directed. Kyla, with her amiable spirit, smiled gracefully and introduced herself to the two little girls: Annie and Georgette. Kyla always seemed to get along well with children. Marie, the matriarch of the family, helped my mother make tea from the stolen stash.

Although I never doubted that my father knew what was best for our family, something didn't settle right with me about taking them in. I briefly introduced myself to the family before I retreated back to bed. I was too tired to entertain our new guests.

Sometime during the night, I woke up in a panic hearing thunder shake our home… only it wasn't thunder; it was the sound of soldiers' footsteps. It sounded like hundreds were swarming the porch that wrapped around our little abode.

I gazed over to where my mother and Kyla were standing by the door as they did before, only this time the door was shut tightly and their ears were pressed against it.

"What's going—"

Kyla immediately shushed me with a stiff finger to her mouth. I shimmied out of bed, quietly shuffling over to press my ear against a hollow part of the door. I could only hear voices mumbling, one of them I recognized as father's.

"Mr. Davies, we are here under the official order of His Majesty to search for any men who've wronged our good King in such acts of treason." Sir Henry Clinton's voice boomed.

"I understand." Father replied. "But, what business do you have here? Neither myself, nor my family have committed such treacherous deeds. We notably distance ourselves from the patriotic cause and wish to promote peace around our home."

"The King's supply caravan was attacked by mobs of patriots yesterday morning, and we believe some of them may have fled in this direction. Do you have any information on their whereabouts?"

My father paused. "No, sir." He mumbled. There was an even longer pause, and all I could hear was the downpour of rain on our rooftop and porch.

I was perplexed. "Where's the family?" I whispered to Kyla.

"Hiding beneath the house. We rushed them through the cellar door when we heard the Brits coming."

"Come with me, Mr. Davies." The British officer commanded.

My sister's voice quivered. "Where are they taking him?"

"I don't know, Kyla." I instinctually moved to the other side of the room towards the window, recognizing the footsteps were sounding from the side of the house. I couldn't see anything except for the silhouette of soldiers standing post in the yard. My mother and Kyla darted towards me and sat by the window where we could hear the conversation continue.

"Mr. Davies, you do know that by the King's mandate, we can willingly search your home if we have reason to believe you're harboring enemies of the British Empire." Sir Clinton lowered his voice. "If we do gather evidence of such treason, we will act accordingly." He paused again, awaiting a reply. I swallowed hard, seeing as my father was understandably quiet. "I hear you have a lovely family… a beautiful wife and two adoring daughters."

"What of it?" My father snarled.

"I would hate for anything bad to happen to your family at the expense of hiding another." He paused before lowering his voice once more. "If you provide us with the information on the patriots' whereabouts, I assure you no harm will come to you or your family." The situation was extremely intense, and I was more fearful for my father's life than my own.

"They're…" my father paused. I didn't recognize his voice at that moment since I've never heard it laced with fear. He always seemed like a confident man… up until then at least. "Inside... through the cellar door."

Suddenly, I heard high-pitched screaming as footsteps sounded towards the front door. The family was making a run for it, hearing of my father's betrayal.

"Fire at will!" Another officer commanded.

I sat there, motionless and deaf to the barrage of bullets and exploding gunpowder downstairs. What I had feared the most had actually rendered me callous. I was truly beside myself, unable to grasp what was actually happening. My eyes remained pinned on my mother and Kyla who'd curled into frightened little balls, screaming and covering their ears to drown out the horrific noise. They did everything they could to shun themselves from the reality of the situation, while I unknowingly soaked it all in. It just wasn't processing in my mind for me to even react as such.

When the gunfire had ended, I heard short footsteps slapping against the muddy grass towards the backyard. "She's getting away! Hurry!" Sir Clinton's voice sounded from the back.

It wasn't until I heard another set of footsteps rummaging up the staircase that I quickly scooted myself closer to my huddling family, fearful that we would share the same fate.

"Christine!" My father barged in. He quickly made his way towards us. "Are you all okay?" I got up and wrapped my arms around my father's sopping wet figure. I never felt so glad to see him. Kyla jumped up and hugged us both as she sobbed into my shoulder. It felt as if someone had disconnected my vocal cords for the time being, and all I could feel was warm liquid run down my cheek. It didn't occur to me that I was actually crying the entire time.

My father let go of us. "Stay here, alright? Do not come downstairs until I get you." He left us again. Apparently, the bloody mangled bodies of our guests were sprawled across the front porch and yard. Despite the fact that we'd heard everything that transpired, my father wanted to keep us far from the traumatic images of war and casualties. He willingly gave up the crate that was sitting in our cupboard and asked the British soldiers to take the bodies away. In return, Sir Henry Clinton and his men spared our lives.

None of us were able to get any sleep for the remainder of the evening, or early morning for that matter. By daybreak, the rain had stopped and the morning fog set around our house like an opaque blanket. Everything seemed eerily quiet around us, even before father said it was okay to come downstairs. We hesitantly did so, me especially since the previous night's events began to sink in heavily. Aside from the footprints in the mud, it didn't appear anyone had ever been here.

Later on in the day when father left us to go hunting, I continued to sit by the fire and let the steady crackling of the log calm my anxious mind. I couldn't wait until we moved down south. Though I found absolute serenity in the day's peaceful ambience, violent memories continued to haunt me. In my eyes, the house was tainted.

I slowly moved the wool blankets surrounding me and brought the rocking chair to a halt the second my ears perked at the sound of very faint footsteps across the front porch. I tiptoed to the front door, the wooden floor quietly creaking below my feet. Silence ensued as I carefully cracked the door open. I was immediately startled at the sight of deep red blood splattered across the front steps. Several feet from the base of the staircase stood the dark figure of the second youngest daughter, Georgette. Her feet and clothes were all covered in mud, hands tainted with blood. Her dark hair was all matted and her eyes, which I will never forget, were bloodshot and fixated on me with such a hateful glare. I could hear her mumbling something that didn't even sound like any language I'd ever heard of. I called for my mother and Kyla as Georgette's chanting grew louder by the second. They came running down, also appalled at the sight in front of our home.

"You betrayed us! You betrayed us for your own selfish reasons!" She snarled in such spite, sticky saliva dripping from her lips like a ravenous beast. "Your home is tainted by the blood you spilled, the blood of my family. And everyone who sees it will know what you've done. My family will never know peace, and neither will you. You will only know suffering all the days of your selfish little lives!"

"Get out of here!" My mother screamed, threatening to run after her. Georgette quickly ran off, not because she was afraid but because she finished what she intended to do.

I didn't know it at the time, but Georgette had put a curse on our family. Apparently her ancestors were survivors of the Salem Witch Trials. Practicing black magic was in their blood.

Strange things that were hardly coincidental began happening soon after. For one, the blood on the porch would never wash off. Just when we thought we scrubbed most of it off, puddles would appear the next day. It's almost as if the steps would bleed on their own.

On a dreadful evening within the same month, villagers came by our house bearing the worst news I'd ever heard: my father had been shot and killed while he was out hunting. Apparently, he got caught in a cross-fire between the Brits and the patriots. It came as a surprise to me and it made no sense whatsoever, since my father was very attuned to his surroundings and had always avoided feuding grounds.

In the weeks that followed after, all the crops we grew would go bad before we could even pick them. We finally decided that we were ready to venture south. But before we could leave, my mother contracted smallpox. She suffered for two grueling weeks before passing. We couldn't find any medical treatment for her. A week later, Kyla contracted smallpox and died just as quickly.

I'd never felt so alone. I was certain that I would come down with the smallpox as well. However, months passed and nothing had happened to me. I felt hungry, but everything was dead around me. My whole world was dead.

I tried hanging myself several times, but it never worked. I figured that perhaps I was doing it wrong. Maybe the knot wasn't tied right to break my neck. I stabbed myself with my father's bayonet, but that didn't work. I finally decided to set the house on fire… with me in it. Childhood memories would play in my head as I sat with blazing fire surrounding me. For a moment, the thought of rejoining my family in the afterlife brought a sense of tranquility. The house came down piece by piece; at least the tainted porch was finally incinerated. The flames engulfed me, immediately turning my clothes into ash. Other than that, nothing changed; I was still alive.

Obviously, that's when I realized I was invincible. I just hoped it would wear off at some point.

As she finished the story, I noticed her glance down to my hand, which was resting on her leg.

"I'm sorry," I quickly lifted my hand.

"No, it's okay." Ashley briefly smiled. "That didn't do anything." She leaned forward, now repositioning herself to sit cross-legged next to me.

"Well, I'm really sorry about what happened to your family."

She didn't respond. We sat there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes and I was only intrigued to know what she was thinking. She then advanced forward until her face was maybe an inch or two away from mine, and I immediately felt my heart skip an odd beat. Instinctively, I brought my head back, sounding a rather loud thud the second the back of my head met the drawer beneath the sink.

"Oww!" I winced.

"Hmm." Ashley moved back a bit.

"What?"

She sniffed, "Your breath and your scent don't affect me either."

"That's a weird thing to check for." I rubbed the back of my head.

"Well, you never know what the exact kryptonite might be."

I giggled, "I brush and floss twice a day and I shower daily, thank you very much."

"And you're prone to bumping your head." Ashley smirked, lightly brushing my bangs to the side before running her fingers through my hair. Her fingers continued to graze the length of my long sleeve and came to a rest as she lightly grasped my forearm. "Perhaps it's just a skin-to-skin contact type of… kryptonite."

It finally occurred to me that she was quick to change the subject. I didn't have to be a mind-reader to pick up on the fact that she didn't want to dwell on her cursed past. "Perhaps." My eyes briefly panned down to her hand and back to her eyes. She slowly let go as I gripped my upper arms and huddled into the warmth of my knees. By now, it had to be late in the afternoon to early evening, considering my stomach was grumbling a second time since we'd been locked in.

"Are you cold?"

"Just a little." I instinctively nodded, though something in her delicate tone made me feel far from cold. "So, at what point in your life did you live in Tuscany?"

"Later that year when the French became more involved in aiding the Continental Army, I hitched a ride to Europe on one of their supply ships." Ashley slid her coat off and spread it across my upper body, draping the collar over my shoulders. "I lived in Paris until 1789 when the French Revolution took place. Then, I moved to Tuscany."

"And what about Tibet?"

"Oh," she shrugged, "that wasn't until almost a hundred years later in the late 1800's." She said so matter-of-factly. I was utterly intrigued on how worldly she was.

"Tell me about the Dalai Lama." My curiosity beckoned.

"Well—"

Instantaneously, I could hear the front door unlock and footsteps coming in as the door swung open. Ashley and I sat up listening inquisitively as we heard someone toss keys on the countertop. There was some indistinct mumbling.

"Spence?" Madison's voice echoed.

"We're in here!" I banged on the door as Ashley jumped up. She reached her hand out and I instinctively grabbed it, not thinking things through. Shit.

"The knob is broken!" We heard from the other side of the door. Go figure!

She gasped as she pulled me onto my feet. I felt Ashley lunge forward, losing her footing again. The both of us nearly tumbled over as we found ourselves in this awkward embrace once more.

"Stand back. Let me see if I can push the door down." Liz's voice alarmed me.

Ashley struggled to lean her hands on the sink that her body was pushing me up against. Her chin dug into my shoulder while I held her waist to keep her from falling.

"I'm dizzy," she whispered, her chest heaving against mine.

We heard a big thud against the door.

"Ash, stand up!" I whispered loudly. The way we were… with Ashley pressed into me like this… wasn't a good look for us.

Ashley finally gained her footing and stepped off of me, her hands still on the sink. She swallowed hard, her eyes piercing mine and slowly glancing down to my lips. She was mere centimeters away, enough for me to breathe her air.

We heard another loud bang and a small cracking noise. I turned my head and noticed the doorframe was successful breaking.

I then felt Ashley grab my chin to turn my glances back to her hooded eyes. She came a little closer and I shut my eyes tightly before gently pushing her off of me. I didn't have time to think about what was about to happen. All I could think about was Liz and how I would never do that to her.

One more forceful shove and a piece of the frame broke as the door swung open. Liz grunted as she stumbled in a bit, grabbing her right shoulder.

I let out a long sigh, mostly because that was close! One second sooner, and we'd be caught in such a compromising position! Geez… what was Ashley thinking? If only…

"There you are!" Liz stopped to catch her breath as a smile slowly spread across her face. I think the only one who wasn't out of breath at this point was Madison, peeking her wavy-haired little head in to assess the situation.

Her eyes darted to a somewhat flustered brunette, leaning against the wall. "Ashley, how'd you get in here?"

"Had to use the nearest bathroom." She smirked nervously.

Liz glanced at Ashley. "Who the hell are you and should I be worried?"

"It was all a big accident." Ashley's nervousness was obvious to me. She must've picked up on Liz's defensive body language. "Spencer and I were both racing to get to the bathroom and I accidentally shut the door without realizing it was still broken." Ashley giggled in a more natural tone. She turned to Liz and stuck her hand out, "Hi, I'm Ashley."

"Liz," she smiled sincerely, briefly shaking the brunette's hand. "What a funny place to meet someone for the first time." Liz laughed. "It's nice to meet you though."

"Likewise." Ashley nodded.

Thankfully, Ashley's story quelled my girlfriend's jealous thoughts. I also reassured Liz by lovingly wrapping my arms around her.

"Thanks for breaking us out of here, by the way." Ashley continued. "Is your arm going to be okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I'm just glad to know Spencer wasn't standing me up for lunch." She chortled.

"Well, Spence," Madison interjected, "I hope you finally get this damn door fixed." Her eyes gazed down the now broken frame. "Now it's gonna cost you a lot more than if you got it fixed in the first place."

I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, I'll pay for it." Liz grabbed my hand and escorted me out as Madison stepped aside. "I was the one who broke it down anyway."

"Well, I guess Spencer owes you then." My roommate shrugged.

Liz grinned, "I'm sure we can arrange something."

"…With toothpaste!" I laughed.

"Kinky!" Ashley smirked.

"Please! My little straight ears are burning!" Madison blurted.

"Keep telling yourself that, Mad." Ashley grinned as she picked her coat off the floor. "I know you're totally feeling Jton. I could put a good word in if you want." She joked.

"What are you talking about?" Madison was baffled.

"Oh, come on!" I bellowed.

"Shut your face, Spence!" I've never seen her blush like that… and I'm pretty sure it's not the make-up. "Liz, can you please take Spencer away and go have mad monkey sex with her? Remember, you guys haven't seen each other… all… day... long!"

"You don't have to ask me twice!" "Yes, ma'am!" I felt Liz's bangs tickle my forehead as she kissed me. She slowly walked me backwards into my room.

For a split second, my eyes blinked open at the same time Ashley happened to make eye contact with me. She quickly looked back to Madison.

"Speaking of Jton, where'd she go? I owe her one for punching my ex in the face. That was sweet of her." Madison's definition of 'sweet' is obviously skewed.

"She went home—"

Liz quickly shut the door behind us, muffling the conversation from outside. "I've missed you!" She kissed me again so hastily.

I laughed into our kiss.

She backed away for a second. "I couldn't wait 'til class was over so I could see you. I swear it was the longest day… ever!" Her lips began to devour mine once more.

"Um," I mumbled, backing up just a bit as Liz stopped.

"What's wrong?"

I smiled. "Are we really going to have mad monkey sex right now? 'Cause I've been deprived of food all day long." I pleaded. "It really was the longest day ever." My tummy sure thought so, though in my head, it felt like time spent with Ashley was way too short. I wanted to know more… even at the expense of my growling tummy.

"Of course we don't have to right now." Liz giggled. "Let's go feed your poor starving belly."