South of Nowhere 1. Chapter 1

I hear Ashley's car coming long before I can see it; the loud thud of her music making the ground vibrate and sending a ricocheting buzz straight through the soles of my red sneakers and up into my ribcage. She's ten minutes late, but that's not unusual, and missing the start of class is a small price to pay for spending precious one on one time with Ashley.

Finally she speeds into view, her topless black convertible shimmering beneath the bright morning sun, and her dusky eyes hidden behind an expensive pair of sunglasses. She screeches to a halt in front of me, immediately shutting off the overbearing music and propping her sunglasses on top of her head.

"Do I look okay?" She asks as I slide into the seat beside her and fumble for my seatbelt. "Be honest."

"You look fine." I tell her, because even with the telltale dark shadows under her eyes she still looks amazing. In fact, she always looks amazing, and that's precisely my problem. "I guess you went out last night then?"

"We did some serious partying! You should have come."

I throw a short, irritated glance in her direction as she pulls her sunglasses back down.

"You know I can't go out on a school night."

"Right, yeah." Ashley responds, but I can tell she's not really listening. "It was so wild though!"

"Who was there?" I find myself asking, even though I know I won't like the answer. Sometimes I think I just torture myself.

"I don't know, there was a bunch of us." She pauses and I feel like she's looking at me, but it's hard to tell behind those dark glasses. "I just hung out with Madison most of the time."

"Yeah, of course." I nod, keeping my tone neutral, and trying to pretend that Madison isn't the bane of my entire existence. "I'm glad you had a good time."

I'm not glad at all; I wish she hadn't gone to the stupid party, I wish that she'd spent the night at mine instead, and I wish that Madison didn't exist.

"I'm paying for it now though. I wish I was more sensible, like you." Ashley smiles at me softly, her hand drifting from the gear stick for a moment to playfully nudge my thigh.

"No you don't, and anyway I'm not _that_ sensible." At least not when it comes to you, I muse to myself.

"Spencer, you're the most sensible person I know!"

"Then you obviously don't know that many people."

"Right." Ashley grins, not even bothering to argue anymore, because we both know she's right. I am ridiculously sensible, and maybe that's why my life is such a mess all the time. Maybe a less sensible person would just tell Ashley how they felt about her, instead of drooling over her from a distance. Only there's never been much distance between me and Ashley because we've been best friends for years. I used to be best friends with Madison too, the three of us used to have sleepovers together and everything, but now I can barely stand to be in the same room as her. I hate her and she knows it, she just doesn't know why.

By the time we arrive at school Ashley's told me every tiny detail about last night's party, right down to what she was wearing and how funny it was when some guy passed out in the bathtub. She also went on and on about Madison and how hot she looked in her little black cocktail dress, but I've learnt to block most of that stuff out. Instead I just stare at Ashley and think about how beautiful she is, and how lucky I am that I get to be her friend, even though it rips me apart inside that I can't be more than that.

"You're coming tomorrow night though, right?" Ashley asks suddenly, shoving the question on the end of some very long, ode to Madison sentence that I again wasn't paying attention to. "To Madison's party?"

As if I could forget about Madison's party. If there's one place I hate going more than anywhere else on this earth it's Madison's house. It's the place where all of this started; it's where I first met Ashley, it's where the three of us had our first sleepover together, and it's where Ashley and Madison kissed for the first time.

I force a smile. "Of course I'm going."

"Good." Ashley smiles back happily. "It wouldn't be the same without you."

I smile genuinely this time because I know she means it, and that's precisely why I'm going, because Ashley wants me to.

"We can start at mine if you want?" Ashley suggests as we make our way towards our lockers. "I bought a bunch of new clothes the other day, so you can borrow something if you like?"

In contrast, I love going to Ashley's house, and I love wearing her clothes. Maybe tomorrow night won't be so bad after all.

"Sure, what time should I come over?"

Before Ashley has a chance to answer me, we're interrupted by Madison enveloping her from behind.

"Hi, baby!" She giggles as she leans far enough over Ashley's shoulder to peck her on the cheek. "Did you miss me?"

"I only saw you a few hours ago!" Ashley replies with an equally playful laugh; the whole display is enough to make me sick if I'm honest. It's like whenever Madison's around Ashley turns into an icky puddle of loved up mush; why can't I make her feel like that?

Sighing, I lean against my locker and watch the two of them fawn over each other for a few minutes. Madison is all over Ashley, as usual, touching her hair and face, and taking off her sunglasses. She likes to make sure that everyone sees that they're together, or at least that's my theory.

"You look like crap!" Madison moans, her voice heavy with disapproval as she pushes Ashley's sunglasses back into place. "You better keep these on when you're with me."

I chew my lower lip and watch for Ashley's reaction; she never stands up to Madison when she says things like that. When I asked her about it once she said that the comments don't really bother her, but I can tell that they do, because I know Ashley inside out.

"Sorry, I didn't get much sleep." Ashley shrugs, running her hand through her hair like she always does when she's stressed about something.

"Well neither did I! It's no excuse, Ashley. Haven't you heard of a facial?"

They go on like this for some time, and I'm beginning to wish the bell would just ring already so I can make my excuses and leave.

"Oh, Spencer, hi." Madison says suddenly, as though I've just appeared in a puff of smoke. "Don't forget there's a party at my house tomorrow night, everyone's invited."

I nod, not quite managing a smile this time. "I'm looking forward to it."

"I bet." Madison purrs as she presses another kiss against Ashley's cheek. "See you later, baby, remember I've got cheer practice after school."

And just like that she's gone.

"Spence, you'll stay after school with me won't you?" Ashley asks, turning to me in a whirl of dark curls. "I hate watching cheer practice."

I hate it too, but there's no point in telling her that.

"I guess."

"Great, we can talk about what we're going to wear tomorrow night. I'll drop you home after, okay?"

"Okay, thanks." I sigh quietly, so quietly I'm positive she'll miss it in buzz of passing students. But it's better that way, it's better that she doesn't know how I feel, because if she did I might lose her forever. And that's my biggest fear.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you all for the reviews, I hope you like this next part as much!**

*****

Madison's party is mere hours away. School passed by in a complete blur, normally I can't wait for Friday to be over, but today I was clinging to every minute like it might be my last. Don't get me wrong, I like parties. Maybe not as much as some people, and _definitely_ not as much as Ashley, but I usually have a pretty good time. No, my problem isn't with the party itself: it's with the hostess. But I guess that doesn't come as much of a surprise.

My Dad drops me off at Ashley's at about six thirty. She's already dressed in an extremely short denim skirt and a silky black chiffon top, and her eyes are brandished with electric-blue eyeshadow. She looks incredible, and I think my staring at her is kind of obvious, but so many people stare at Ashley on a daily basis that I don't think she even notices.

Ashley's keen to start drinking too, and fixes us both a vodka cranberry before we head upstairs to her room. Her bedroom is never particularly tidy, but tonight it really is a mess, with discarded clothes and shoes scattered all over the floor and bed. Sensing my dismay about where to put myself, Ashley casually clears a small space on the bed and gestures for me to sit down with her.

"So what do you feel like wearing tonight, Spencer?" She casts her hand in a sweeping gesture around the room, vaguely pointing in the direction of her overflowing wardrobe. "I've got some cute dresses you could try."

"I think I'll stick to jeans." I respond, not really giving the idea much thought; Ashley giggles. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just, I knew you'd say that."

"Yeah, well, jeans are…" I trail off, a perplexed look on my face.

"Sensible." Ashley finishes for me with a big grin. "They're definitely sensible, and predictable, just like you."

Ashley thinks I'm predictable? Sensible is one thing, but _predictable_?

"You think I'm predictable?"

Ashley shrugs and takes a sip of her drink. "Sort of, yeah."

"Great." I mutter, an irritating pang twisting in my gut.

"Hey, it's not necessarily a bad thing."

I know she's trying to make me feel better, but the damage is already done. Predictable, it's such an ugly word, and when you think about it, it's really just a polite word for boring.

Ashley thinks I'm boring.

"Jeans it is then. Dark or light?" Ashley continues obliviously as she stands up and makes her way across the room, towards her walk in wardrobe. "I've got some belts in here somewhere too, that'll dress them up a bit."

Placing my drink on the side, I reluctantly follow her for an obligatory fashion-advice session. To be fair, Ashley does have good taste, and normally I quite enjoy her dressing me up, but right now, after being told how boring I am, I just want to go home.

Ashley proceeds to pull out many pairs of jeans; I settle on some indigo blue ones with a slight worn effect on the knees and pockets. Then we move onto tops, which seems to take forever because Ashley has so many to choose from. I decide to keep it simple, with a white, lacy shirt.

"You look good." Ashley remarks as she looks me up and down, and this makes me feel a little bit better about the predictable comment. "Oh! You have to let me do your makeup!"

I agree reluctantly. "Okay, but nothing too outrageous."

Ashley practically squeals with excitement as she shoves me in the direction of her dressing table and, after ushering me onto the stool, starts to pull out all sorts of products and tools. I have to admit there's some I don't even recognise, but I don't really wear a lot of makeup.

"You're going to look amazing." Ashley informs me proudly, as she runs a brush across my cheeks and gently supports my chin with her free hand.

I murmur in agreement, enjoying the opportunity for some close contact and particularly enjoying the eyelevel view of her cleavage. I take comfort in the fact that, short of closing my eyes, I can't really avoid looking at it, and that eases my conscience considerably.

I'm not sure how long Ashley spends doing my makeup, but it feels like hours have passed when she finally announces that she's done and passes me her handheld mirror to look in.

"I knew you'd look amazing." She smiles happily, clearly pleased with her handiwork, and with good reason. Somehow she's managed to make my pale complexion glow, and the midnight-blue eyeshadow she's used makes my blue eyes appear even bluer than normal.

"It looks great, Ash. Thank you." I gush gratefully, wishing I had the courage to do my makeup like this more often.

"My pleasure, Spence. Come on though, we better get going. Madison hates it when I'm late."


	3. Chapter 3

Madison's house is heaving with people. There's a few faces I recognise from school, but an even larger number that I don't. I'm not even sure that Madison knows who they are, as the first hour or so seems to consist of introductions and several tours of her six bedroom house.

I watch from the sidelines as Madison drags Ashley towards another group of strangers and embarks on her well-prepared introduction. It's painful the way she always refers to Ashley as 'her Ashley', with her arm welded around her waist, and she can't help but mention that Ashley's just scored a multi-million dollar inheritance, and did they know that her father was none other than Raife Davies? Oh it makes me sick, it really does, and how can Ashley be so blind to it?

I suspect the copious amounts of alcohol she seems to be consuming are partly responsibility for her ignorance, but still.

The evening only gets worse too, when Madison insists that Ashley regale everyone with a song that she wrote for her. I overhear Ashley making some excuse about not having her guitar with her, but the problem's quickly resolved when some unkempt, bearded guy calls out that he has one in the trunk of his car.

Guitar in hand, Ashley situates herself in the middle of Madison's huge living room and proceeds to strum the chords to the deeply devoted love song she's hideously entitled 'Madison'. At this point I have to put my alcoholic drink down and opt for a glass of water, because I really am in danger of losing my lunch.

The only saving grace is that I love to hear Ashley sing; and I allow myself to fantasize that she might write a song like this about me one day when she realises what a jerk Madison really is, and when she discovers that she has all these crazy, irrepressible feelings for me. Yeah, it's a long shot I know, but it keeps me sane and seems to subdue the nauseous feeling.

Finally the song finishes and, after a rapturous applause from Madison and her guests, Ashley makes a swift exit in my direction. Typically, I'm backed up in a little corner of the room, trying to keep myself to myself.

"Having fun?" Ashley asks breathily, the exact tone of her question lost in all the frantic noise.

"It's okay." I reply coolly, because I'm pretty sure she's being sarcastic. "You sounded really good."

Ashley never blushes when someone pays her a compliment, and this time is no exception.

"Yeah? Well Madison is going to set some shots up, if you want to join us?"

I know Ashley's just trying to include me, but it's a pointless question really because she knows I'll say no. Shots and me are never a good idea, in fact too much alcohol and me is a bad idea full stop. Plus there's always the risk I'll say something I shouldn't, and the thought of losing my inhibitions in front of Ashley is frankly terrifying. I can barely keep myself in check around her when I'm sober.

Decided, I hold up my current glass. "I'll stick to water for now, thanks."

Ashley makes a huge deal of rolling her eyes, her petite frame teetering slightly as she does so. I'm tempted to tell her that I don't think shots are a great idea for her either right now, but I don't think she's in the mood for sensible-Spencer advice.

"Suit yourself, Spence." She mutters with a shake of her head. "We'll be over there if you change your mind."

I sigh as Ashley abandons me once more, throwing herself into the crowd of drunken strangers and eventually Madison's waiting arms. I watch them kiss for about a second before I have to look away, it's still as unsettling for me now as it was the first time. When I think back to that fateful night last year though, I know I only have myself to blame, because I was the one who double dared them to kiss in the first place.

But how was I supposed to know it would lead to this? And what if Madison had dared me and Ashley to kiss instead, would everything be completely different? I ask myself those questions a lot, they go round and round in my head, completely and utterly pointless.

I lose count of how many shots they do, and I haven't a clue what's in them. There's all kinds of colours, green, blue, red, yellow, and some of them seem to taste better than others, judging by their reactions.

After a while I slope off towards the foyer and make myself comfortable on a beautifully upholstered chaise lounge, I figure if I wait long enough Ashley will wonder where I've gone and then maybe she'll take pity on me and say we can leave. Realistically I know that's unlikely to happen; Ashley is the unwitting star of Madison's party, and there's no way she'd let her leave this early. In fact, I'll probably be lucky to get out of here before sunrise if her past parties are anything to go by.

Overcome with a helpless sense of misery, I draw my feet up onto the chaise lounge and close my eyes. This is fast becoming the worst night of my life, and I've had some pretty terrible ones.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you again for all your reviews! I'm apologise on behalf of Spencer, Ashley and Madison for their behaviour but hey, it wouldn't be a story without some friction would it? Hoping you'll stick with me, I promise you'll all get your Spashley... **

*****

I'm woken from my semi-slumber by someone poking me in the ribs with the sharp point of an acrylic nail. It turns out to be Sherry, one of Madison's devoted followers, and she looks unusually relieved to see me.

"Finally!" Sherry exclaims, folding her arms. "Madison needs you."

I don't move straight away, I just let the statement sink gradually into my muddled brain. Madison needs me? Is this some kind of a joke? What could she possibly need _me_ for?

Sherry taps her foot impatiently. "Come on, she's waiting."

Still very much confused, I slowly gather myself into a standing position and follow Sherry back towards the chaotic realm of the party. I'm not sure how long I was asleep for, but the living room looks as though a hurricane has torn through it and destroyed everything in its path. No one else seems very concerned though, and from what I can gather the shots have now been incorporated into some sort of card game, which also involves stripping down to your underwear.

Sherry beckons me onwards still, past the half-naked people and through to Madison's elaborately designed kitchen. Finally she points her bright red nail towards a small, closed door.

"She's in there." She tells me, before re-submerging herself back into the disorderly crowd, her mission apparently complete.

"Great." I mutter to myself, feeling seriously uncomfortable about this whole setup. I mean Madison and I rarely have a conversation these days, let alone arrange to spend time together. Honestly my gut instinct right now is run in the opposite direction and pretend that Sherry never found me, but when it comes to Madison resistance it pretty much futile, and sensible-Spencer is telling me that I should just get whatever this is over with. Placing my hand on the ornamental doorknob I take a deep breath and turn it.

The door swings inwards to reveal a champagne bathroom suite and Madison holding a sloppily dressed Ashley at arm's length against the terracotta and gold tiles.

"About time!" She exclaims, taking a relieved step back from Ashley, who, without her support, slides gracelessly to the floor. "I thought she was going to be sick on me, and I'm wearing Prada."

I look from Ashley to Madison repeatedly, still trying to grasp what's happening, and why she's summoned me.

"It was getting seriously embarrassing." Madison continues, as she looks herself over in the mirror. "I've called you a taxi, it'll be out front in five minutes so you better hurry."

"A taxi?"

"Yes, and you better use the back door." Madison gestures to Ashley with a flick of her hand. "I don't want anyone to see the state she's in."

"Um…"

"Here, this should cover it." I can't quite believe my eyes when Madison produces a wad of cash from the tiny clutch bag tucked under her arm. "You can keep the change, since you're doing me a favour and all."

"You don't have to pay me to take care of her." I point out in disbelief. "She's my best friend."

"Do what you want with it then." Madison shrugs, my sentiments lost on her as she shoves the unwanted money into my palm. "Tell Ashley I'll call her."

I find myself frozen for several seconds, reeling from Madison's harsh words, and increasingly worried about Ashley who seems to be profoundly unconscious. Forcing myself into action, I shove the taxi fare into the back pocket of my jeans and drop to my knees, giving Ashley a gentle but proactive shake.

"Ash? You've got to get up." I feel a surge of relief as Ashley's eyelids flutter beneath the smudged and heavy layer of her sparkly blue eyeshadow. "Ashley?"

"Mm?"

"We have to get you home. Can you stand up?"

Ashley suddenly opens her eyes and smiles, a big lopsided smile.

"Of _course_ I can!"

"Okay…"

I watch dubiously as Ashley attempts to stand up, her hands grappling with the edge of the bathtub for support and her legs swaying unsteadily. Apparently she finds the whole situation hilarious, because she bursts into a fit of giggles before landing back where she started with a voluble thud.

"I'm dizzy!"

"No kidding." I sigh, slipping my arm around her. "Come on, you can lean on me."


	5. Chapter 5

The taxi ride back to Ashley's is awful.

Ashley intermittently passes out on me, and the driver won't shut up about the fifty bucks we'll owe him if Ashley throws up on his leather seats. Worse still is the bittersweet torture of having Ashley so close to me that I can smell the cinnamon scent of shampoo and feel the appealing warmth of her skin.

When we finally pull up outside Ashley's house I waste no time in handing over Madison's money, insisting that I don't want any change and apologising for any extra trouble we've caused. The driver seems satisfied with this, and even helps me extract Ashley from the backseat, who, for someone so small, is pretty heavy when she's unconscious.

By some kind of miracle I manage to rouse Ashley enough to get her up the spiral staircase and into her room. It must take us about twenty minutes though, and I'm pretty sure she's at risk of a concussion because she hit her head a whole bunch of times on the solid oak banister.

With Ashley safely flopped on her bed I take the initiative to fetch a huge bottle of Evian and a glass, and place them on her bedside table, determined to do the best I can to take care of her and hopefully lessen the potency of tomorrow morning's hangover. I also retrieve a pack of her makeup wipes from her dressing table and carefully wipe over her face, removing the dishevelled blue from her eyes and the golden foundation from her skin. Without it, she looks a touch green.

"I don't feel good." She announces, as I pull her into a stooped sitting position, her legs hanging limply over the side of the bed.

"I know, but try and drink some water."

To my surprise Ashley is oddly compliant and accepts the tall glass, guzzling about half of it down in one go. Not about to celebrate my victory too prematurely, I grab the wastepaper bin and nestle it in her lap.

"Just in case." I explain; Ashley nods gingerly, her hair falling messily in front of her face. "Oh, hang on, let me just…" I climb onto the bed behind her, my knees resting either side of her hips as I draw her dark curls back over her slender shoulders. "There, that's better isn't it."

"Mm-hmm." She sighs, leaning back just enough so that her head can rest on my shoulder. I shiver as her breath tickles my neck, and wonder whether it's really necessary to undress her for bed, because I'm not sure I'll be able to control myself.

"Uh… do you feel any better?" I whisper, my hands betraying me as they snake around her middle and hold her closer. Just in case she slips, I tell myself.

"You smell so good." She whispers back, her left hand weaving up, into my long, blonde hair. I know I should stop her, but it feels so right as she wraps the tips around her fingers, teasing them. Teasing me.

"Err, Ashley…" I trail off weakly, reasoning with myself that she's not really doing any harm. I mean she's played with my hair before, it's just that we were about ten years old at the time, and I didn't want to pin her to the mattress and kiss her all over like I do right now. "Maybe you should drink some more water or, or have a lie down, or something?"

I realise I'm losing control pretty fast here, and I know she's too drunk to really know what she's doing, but every tiny part of me is screaming out to just kiss her, to see how far this could really go. Even if it is just for one night, even if she'll hate me for it in the morning. It'll be worth it, won't it?

Ashley giggles into the nape of my neck, her mouth twitching against my bare skin into tiny almost-kisses. She's driving me insane.

I want her, I want her so badly I'm shaking, and if I turn my head just a little our mouths will almost be touching. It's risky, it's daring, it's so not a 'me' thing to do but it's like I can't stop myself. I have to do this, I _need_ to do this. I've been waiting for this moment for forever.

I turn my head and it's like everything happens in slow-motion; Ashley's lips brush against mine, soft and accidental, and I can feel her eyelashes dancing against my cheek. She's breathing heavily, spurring me on, and her hands are still lost in my hair as we turn into each other.

She pushes me onto my back, the wastepaper bin clattering, forgotten, to the floor as she straddles me. I can feel her all around me, I'm breathing her in and it just makes me want her even more.

Ashley dips her head, barely kissing the corner of my mouth. She moans as I arch into her, my lips parting, seeking out hers. We kiss lightly, teasing, with stops and starts that make my heart beat so fast I think it might burst.

After awhile her arms give way, and she crashes into me in an exhausted, inebriated heap. Reality quickly cuts in and it brings questions, like _what if she remembers this in the morning_?

I roll Ashley off me and, after removing her cowgirl style boots, manage to persuade her to get under the covers. I decide to play it safe and leave the rest of her clothes in tact, besides, I don't want to wake her.

"Night, Ash." I murmur, allowing myself one more stolen kiss from her lips. "I hope you don't hate me too much tomorrow."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Well it's the morning after the night before, couldn't leave you hanging too long. Depending on how my inspiration goes today I might upload another part, what do you think?  
**

*****

I toss and turn all night. Ashley on the other hand is out for the count, her breathing deep and even, marred only by the occasional soft snore. I permit myself the secret pleasure of watching her; relying on sheer willpower alone to keep myself from reaching out and brushing the loose tendrils of hair out of her eyes. She's so beautiful.

It's still early when she begins to stir, her hands stretching above her head and her body rolling in my direction. I freeze, a feeling of panic rising in my chest as she releases a truly sorry-for-herself groan and throws a groggy arm around me.

I still can't move, or breathe properly: I think I've forgotten how to breathe. We stay in limbo for some time, with neither of us moving, or speaking, and my breath getting caught in my throat. Finally, with another drawn-out groan, Ashley opens her eyes.

She blinks up at me, confused. "Oh, I thought…"

I stare back at her, determined to give nothing away.

"I thought you were, I thought Madison was…" Ashley's face crumples into a regretful wince. "Sorry. My head hurts."

I shift uncomfortably, the need to touch her coming back at full force and temporarily overriding the blinding panic.

"Do you want me to get you anything?"

"Uh-uh." Ashley grunts, her hand retracting from my waist to protectively cradle her head. "Spencer, did I…?"

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. "Did you what, Ash?"

"It's just, was Madison here? Last night?"

"We went to her party." I tell her, even though that's clearly not what she's asking.

"Yeah I know, but after that?"

I shake my head, not trusting myself to speak.

"That's weird then." She concludes, her voice muffled into her pillow. "Must have been dreaming."

As far as morning afters go, this has definitely got to be one of the better outcomes. Even if it does sting a little. Or okay, a lot: it stings a hell of a lot. But at least she's still talking to me, and not yelling, or throwing me out of her house.

"I didn't know it was possible to dream while you were unconscious." I manage to tease; Ashley shudders.

"God, was I that bad? I wasn't sick, was I?"

"No." I reply honestly. "Well nearly, a couple of times."

"I'm such an idiot." She moans, covering a fugitive yawn with the back of her hand. "I don't know how you put up with me."

"It's tough." I admit playfully.

"Shut up! I'm really suffering here."

"Poor little Ashley." I hum softly, taking this innocent, purely platonic opportunity to rub her back. "You should go back to sleep, it's still really early."

"Mmm." Ashley grunts agreeably, her eyes easily falling closed. I smile contentedly as I continue to rub her back, relishing this simple, but somewhat intimate moment. "Spencer?"

"Yeah?"

"Was Madison mad at me? Be honest."

So here it is, a golden opportunity to destroy Ashley's perfect vision of Madison with a few choice and truthful words.

I hesitate. "She said… she said she'd call you."

Ashley opens one gorgeous, dark eye.

"Spencer, you're a rubbish liar."

"She did!" I insist, feeling strangely defensive all of a sudden. "Right before we left, she said to tell you she'd call you."

"Okay, okay!" Ashley laughs, a bemused expression on her face. "Calm down, it's not a big deal anyway."

But it is a big deal, it's a huge deal, because if I tell Ashley what really happened it's going to crush her. And I don't want to be the one to hurt her.

Ashley closes her eyes again, sighing. "You stopped rubbing."

"What? Oh." I start to rub her back again, this time in slow tender circles. "Better?"

"Yeah, you're the perfect hangover cure." She murmurs, filling my head with a warm, giddy blush. Maybe everything is going to turn out okay.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Here's an extra part today as promised, because you've all been so wonderful giving me lots of reviewy goodness :). It definitely keep me going, so please keep feeding back... and for all of you who want to punch Madison, I couldn't agree more lol.  
**

*****

Ashley picks me up like normal on Monday morning, fully recovered from her hangover and gushing about how amazing Friday night was. Much to my relief, she still can't remember half of it, and I listen all too happily to her post-party rundown of how many shots she had and how close she came to losing all of her clothes in a game of strip poker.

I have to admit, I'm kind of sad that I missed that last part, but right now nothing can compete with the incredible memory of kissing her. God, what I wouldn't give to do it all again.

"Earth to Spencer?" Ashley calls, her elbow nudging mine. "Did I lose you somewhere? And why do you keep smiling like that?"

Smiling? I guess I am grinning like a bit of an idiot this morning, but it's hard not to when her lips are right there, all glossy and shiny, and so very, very kissable.

"I'm just happy that's all. I'm allowed to be happy, aren't I?"

Ashley pulls a face.

"Well yeah, but what's there to be happy about? It's Monday morning and-oh! I know!" She waves her index finger at me accusingly. "You drank your Dad's espresso again, didn't you!"

I roll my eyes. "No, I didn't."

"You so did."

We continue to argue about whether I've overdosed on caffeine or not all the way to school. It's not exactly my first choice in conversation, but it's better than talking about Madison, and it's nice to see Ashley just being regular, carefree Ashley for a change.

I get through the first half of my day smiling some more and replaying Friday night over and over in my head. It's okay though, because Ashley's not in any of my classes, so there's no risk of further interrogations. When I do see Ashley again it's lunchtime, and to my disgust she's sitting on Madison's lap, flirting outrageously. It's not like I expected things to be any different between them now, I just didn't consider what seeing them together might be like for me.

It's agonising.

"Wow, you really missed me this weekend, didn't you?" Madison gasps between a sickening onslaught of Ashley kisses which, I might add, she so doesn't deserve.

"Something like that." Ashley mutters, before pulling Madison back in for a very thorough looking round two.

Now, I don't mean to be a stick in the mud here, but kissing on campus is definitely not allowed. Where's a responsible teacher when you need one?

"Okay that's enough!" Madison dictates, prying Ashley off her face and taking a reprieving swig of diet coke. "Jeez."

Ashley shrugs, apparently not too concerned and turns to me.

"So, have you come down from your caffeine high yet?"

I narrow my eyes as she mischievously lifts her eyebrows.

"You're not funny."

"No, she really isn't." Madison admonishes, her contribution surprising us both into momentary silence. "Spencer was so sweet to you on Friday night, Ashley. You should be thanking her."

"Err…" Ashley scratches her head, perplexed.

"I was going to take care of you, but Spencer insisted. Didn't you, Spencer?"

She's kidding, right? I shoot a desperately confused look in Ashley's direction, but she seems to have found something far more interesting to look at, on the floor.

I laugh uncomfortably. "I don't think that's quite how it-"

"Oh, stop being so modest!" Madison intervenes, tucking her chin over Ashley's shoulder. "You were so… _devoted_. Ashley's lucky to have such a _good_ _friend_. Aren't you, baby?"

Now it's my turn to look at the floor, and I can feel a great big bubble of colour rising up my neck and onto my face. Since when did Madison guess my deep, dark Ashley-obsession-shaped secret?

"Yeah I am." Ashley reassures softly, her hand weaving it's way into Madison's caramel brown tresses, twirling the ends the way she had mine.

"God, Ashley!" Madison moans, slapping her hand away. "You know I hate it when you do that. You're going to give me split ends."

"Sorry." Ashley frowns, an unreadable expression clouding her features.

"Forget it. I'm late for cheer practice anyway."

I roll my eyes as Madison untangles herself from Ashley, the two of them sharing another full-on goodbye kiss. Yuck. Finally though, Madison is fading into the distance, and I can raise my own, inner pompoms.

"Hmm." Ashley sighs loudly, as if forgetting for a moment that I'm there. I chew my lower lip, concerned.

"What is it?"

She lifts her head sharply, flashing a weak, non-Ashley-like smile. "Nothing."


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Depending on how the writing goes today I might try and upload Part 9. Hope you're all still hanging in there with me.**

*****

I don't know what's up with Ashley, but something is most definitely up.

The last time we fell out like this was about four years ago; we were thirteen and Ashley accused me of stealing her brand new, limited edition Malibu Barbie. I didn't, for the record, but I still had to suffer two very long weeks of the silent treatment, and Ashley is really good at giving the silent treatment.

She knows it bugs me too. I mean what could be worse than being ignored by the one person you're completely and utterly in love with? I miss her tremendously, even though she's still picking me up for school everyday, and sitting next to me in most of my classes. Something just isn't right.

By the time Friday hits, things have gone from bad to worse. Normally Ashley would be babbling on like an unstoppable force about what she has planned for our weekend, but today she says nothing. Literally. I don't get a hello when she picks me up, and she doesn't even bother to turn her music down.

I'm not stupid, I mean it has occurred to me that this could all be a belated reaction to the forgotten night we shared, but I thought it was just that: _forgotten_. Unless she's suddenly remembered, but realistically, what are the chances of that?

Regardless of how unlikely it is, I still can't shake the queasy, paranoid feeling that's taken my stomach hostage over the last few days. Worse still is the realisation that, if she does remember, she clearly doesn't feel the same way about it that I do. It was one of the best nights of my life, and I was an idiot, pure and simple, to ever think it could mean anything to her.

Everything's so screwed up.

"Aw, has little Spencer got no one to eat lunch with?" Madison sneers, leaning over my empty table like a proverbial dark cloud.

"Just leave me alone." I mumble, nowhere near emotionally-ready to deal with her and her childish insults. After all, she has everything that I want; she has Ashley and her amazing kisses on tap, and absolutely no idea how lucky she is. Honestly, it's enough to drive me over the edge on a good day.

"So what's up with you and Ashley?"

I glare at her. "Why don't you tell me, Madison? Since you're the expert on everything."

"I'd love to, but you know Ashley, she's not much of a talker."

"Right."

Madison sighs, her eyes shifting towards the flawless blue sky.

"Look, I know we don't really hang out anymore but we used to be friends, didn't we?"

"A long time ago." I agree reluctantly. "So?"

"So, I'm having a pool party next Saturday and I want you to come."

I stare at her as though she's just sprouted an extra head. "What? Why?"

"Why not?" She shrugs back. "Ashley's going to be there, and lots of cute boys. You do like boys don't you, Spencer?"

The question is entirely loaded, and without a convenient source of distraction I'm forced to answer it.

"Um, yeah. Of course I do."

"Great! So you'll come and patch things up with Ashley, which helps me out because she is zero fun right now, and in return I'll find you a hot date. Okay?"

"Uh, well-"

"I'll pick you up next Saturday then, at six. Don't forget your bikini!"

Crap.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: A very late posting. Again, thank you for the reviews: I had an attack of writer's block today but you guys (and a good friend of mine) got me through it :).  
**

*****

Over the next week things don't improve between Ashley and I; if anything she's even moodier, and I've made more failed attempts at conversation with her than I dare to count. To top it all off, Madison seems to have officially adopted me as her latest project. She even brought a catalogue in on Tuesday, so that she could educate me on the style of bikini someone with my figure ought to wear. I've still not quite got my head around the fact there's more than one type of bikini, and frankly I've got more important things on my mind. Like Ashley.

Madison, for all her many, many faults, has actually been pretty good about the whole Ashley situation. She's even promised me that she'll have a word with her before the pool party, just to help things along a little. I'm not entirely sure what she's planning on saying to her, but it better be good, because everything I've tried so far has been a complete waste of breath.

True to her word, Madison picks me up at six on the dot. I can't remember the last time someone other than Ashley picked me up, and my Mom can't help but comment on how lovely it is that Madison and I are friends again. My Mom has always liked Madison though, ever since we were small, because Madison comes from a lovely catholic family, with lots of money. Sometimes I wish I could just tell her the truth, but that would also involve telling her the truth about Ashley, and then I might never be able to see her again. If you hadn't guessed yet, my Mom is incredibly homophobic.

We arrive at Madison's with a suspicious amount of time to kill before the party, and I find myself being bombarded with a brand new selection of bikinis to choose from, despite having packed my own.

"This one would look totally gorgeous on you!" Madison insists, holding up a cute pink number, adorned with cotton candy stripes and dainty little bows. It's nothing like my own bikini, which is a dull navy blue, without a frill or embellishment in sight. "You've got to try it on."

"I don't know, Madison." I confess, feeling a little out of my comfort zone. "It's a bit… small."

"It's your size, Spencer. I checked." Madison reasons, waving it at me impatiently. "Ashley's always saying you need to be more daring, now's your chance."

My mind suddenly made up, I snatch the tiny little garment out of Madison's hands and march straight into her en suite bathroom to get changed. If Ashley wants daring, I'll give her daring! I'll give Ashley anything, if it means she'll start talking to me again.

"Tequila?" Madison suggests, when I finally emerge from her bathroom, feeling extremely uncomfortable and clutching my pile of previously worn clothes to my chest. "Spencer, you look hot, girl! Don't hide it."

I wince, as Madison snatches my clothes off me and throws them onto the floor, beside my duffel bag.

"There. So, tequila?"

I eye the bottle anxiously. "Shots don't really agree with me."

"Trust me, you'll be fine." She dismisses my concerns, lining two little glasses up on her dresser and filling them to the top. "Come on, Spencer, I can't drink alone. Besides, I told Ashley to come over a little early so you two could talk. A few drinks might not be such a bad idea!"

Madison has a point there, just the thought of seeing Ashley right now is enough to bring on a serious case of unattractive nerves.

"Okay, but just one."

We manage to fit in three shots before the doorbell goes, and as much as I want to stay up here and hide in Madison's en suite for the rest of the night, I find myself being dragged downstairs to my doom.

Madison squeals with palpable delight when she opens the door for Ashley, and to her credit, I can see why. Out of everyone I know, Ashley is the only person who would turn up for a pool party in her bikini and nothing more. She looks amazing in it too, it's leopard print and serves to accentuate her every asset.

"Spencer, you look uh… wow."

The fact Ashley's spoken to me at all is a shock, but the fact she thinks I look '_wow_' is enough to make me keel over and die happy.

Madison claps her hands, thrilled. "I knew it! The boys are going to go nuts when they see you!"

The boys… right.

"Anyway, you two have things to sort out so take this," Madison shoves the bottle of tequila into my arms. "You can thrash it out in my room, just don't break anything."

With that, I find myself being propelled up the stairs, a disgruntled Ashley not far behind me.


	10. Chapter 10

We enter Madison's room like two strangers: I perch on the cushioned window seat, and Ashley throws herself onto Madison's bed. We couldn't be further away from each other, and the word 'awkward' just doesn't do the frosty atmosphere between us justice.

Ashley eventually motions for the tequila, and I pass it all too willingly.

I know we've been up here for a while already, because the party's now in full swing downstairs, the sound of voices and the thud of music radiating up through the carpeted flooring. I glance at Ashley, she's motionless, save for taking an occasionally long swig of the rapidly emptying bottle. I bet she's even angrier with me now for making her miss the stupid party.

I clear my throat. "Ash?"

"What."

It's not exactly a response blossoming with promise, but it's something.

"Can we talk about this?" I propose, though I'm not really sure what it is that needs talking about. Ashley shrugs, swigging the tequila again, and I realise she's not about to make this easy for me. "Uh, so, is this about the other night?"

"You tell me."

What the heck am I supposed to say to that?

"What do you mean?" I venture, hoping I don't sound as nervous as I feel, but Ashley's always been able to read me like an open book.

"I'm not stupid, Spencer!" She announces suddenly, her voice loud enough to make me wince. "Why won't you just tell me what happened? I know you're keeping something from me!"

"I'm not." I protest quietly, dropping my gaze to my fidgeting hands. "There's nothing to tell you, I swear."

"So what's with you and Madison then?" Ashley demands, now furious enough to roll off the bed and stand up. "You two have been acting so weird together. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"I…"

"And I know you've been talking about me behind my back!"

I lift my blue eyes to her brown, stunned. "Ash, I'd never do that."

Ashley snorts. "Don't lie."

"I'm not! You're the one who's been telling Madison how boring I am!"

"At least I didn't call you a burden!"

We stare at each other, both outraged and furious, and even further from sorting this mess out than we were before.

"Look, I never called you a burden. Okay?"

"Fine." Ashley mutters, sinking to the floor in an irritable heap. "And I didn't say you were boring. Even though you kind of are."

I scowl at her. "Thanks for that."

"Well, you are!"

I slump against the window pane, too hurt and annoyed to go on. Ashley sighs, shifting restlessly on the carpet and flicking the neck of the tequila bottle with her nail.

"I don't understand why Madison would set us up like that."

"She's your girlfriend." I mutter, explaining everything and nothing all at the same time.

"Anyway," Ashley deflects abruptly, "I like it."

"What?"

"I like that you're boring. It makes me feel safe."

"Oh."

We go back to being silent again, only this time it feels different, not quite right but nowhere near as stifling.

"Well, I like taking care of you." I offer softly, wanting her to know that, if nothing else.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Ashley nods, as though making sense of something in her head.

"And I'm not keeping anything from you." I know it's a lie, a great big, fat lie but I can't tell her the truth. Not like this, when everything's so fragile and painful already.

Ashley releases a noisy breath and brings her knees up to her chin.

"I know it sounds crazy," she murmurs. "But I just keep getting this feeling that something happened that night, with you…" Ashley trails off, leaving that last statement just hanging there, daring me to acknowledge it. "Did it?"

I wet my lips, my heart pounding in my ears.

"No. Nothing happened."

"And you and Madison?" Ashley asks curiously. "What are you, best friends now?"

"No! God no." I almost laugh, the idea's so absurd. "You're my best friend, Ash. You know, if you still want to be?"

Ashley smiles, one of those big nose-crinkling smiles I go crazy for.

"Come on, Spence, we've got a party to get to."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I'm happy to have finally written this part! Sorry it's not terribly long but a lot happens, so I hope that makes up for it. A brief disclaimer if you will; I've dropped another familiar in character from the show but just erase their history if you can... by which I mean, past relationships etc. etc. Thank you :)**

*****

I feel like I'm walking on air as we descend the main staircase together, leaving behind all of our recent troubles, the steely glares and weighted silences. Perhaps sensing my newfound wealth of hope and optimism, Ashley slips her hand into mine and squeezes it. It's reassuring and apologetic all at the same time, and I just know that somehow we're going to be okay.

Or that is, until I see Madison waiting for us at the bottom, with some huge hulk of a guy beside her.

"I see you two made up." Madison purrs, putting on an incredibly fake smile even by her standards. "You certainly took your time. We were getting worried."

I glance over at Ashley, who still has a very tight hold on my hand, but she's downright expressionless; and if you haven't learnt by now, that is _never_ a good sign. It tends to mean one of two things: one, she's thinking a lot, or two, she's really, really mad. Either way, it usually leads to some sort of emotional explosion sooner or later, and I have a feeling this one is already long overdue.

"Spencer, I want you to meet someone." Madison continues, blissfully ignorant of the imminent detonation of Ashley. "This is Aiden."

I look up at the tower that is Aiden, past his Neanderthal muscles and into his vacant green eyes. He's not bad looking I guess, for a guy.

"I play basketball." Aiden says simply.

I quirk an eyebrow. "Uh… that's nice."

"Come on, baby, let's leave them to it!" Madison exclaims, grabbing Ashley's free hand and tugging like it's some sort of leash. Ashley doesn't budge. "Baby?"

"Do you know what, Madison?" Ashley hisses. "I hate it when you call me that!"

Here we go.

"No you don't." Madison laughs, still not getting it. I mean how is that even possible? Even empty-headed Aiden looks worried, and he probably couldn't even spell 'worried' if someone handed him a dictionary.

"Who do you think you are!?" Ashley's face is now rigid with pure, undiluted fury, and I can practically feel the anger coming off of her in waves.

"Um, I…" Madison looks officially stumped, not to mention embarrassed. It's fantastic. "What's this about, baby? You're scaring me."

"You! This is all about you and your bullshit! Do you know what? I can't even stand the sight of you right now!"

There's a sort of collective gasp as Ashley storms off into the crowd of swim-attired onlookers; no one walks away from Madison, ever.

"This is all your fault!" Madison yells, sending a blazing scowl in my direction, before she too storms off, shouting Ashley's name at the top of her lungs.

"That was pretty full on." Aiden comments, swigging casually on his beer.

"Err, yeah. It was." I agree, already wondering what sort of lame excuse it's going to take to get rid of him.

"So, I like your bikini."

"Thanks."

"Pool parties rock."

"Yeah."

Wow, this is bad. So bad, I almost feel sorry for him.

"Can I get you a drink, err…?"

"Spencer." I remind him. "And thanks, but I should probably just go and find Ashley."

"Oh right." Aiden murmurs, his disappointment so palpable I find myself rethinking my decision.

I mean, even I can't believe I'm considering having a drink with him, but he just looks so damn pathetic. Ashley probably doesn't need me around yet anyway, she's in full-rage-mode and it'll take a while for her to calm down enough to enter ready-to-talk-mode.

"I guess I could have one drink."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hot off the press, enjoy :).**

*****

I'm not quite sure how it happened. One minute I'm just standing there, and the next I'm being swept up in Aiden's arms, his mouth smothering mine. It's an awkward, sloppy kiss, and he suddenly seems so big it's like he could just engulf my whole body in seconds. I want to pull away from him, but something inexplicable is stopping me; and my senses just feel so overwhelmed by him, and the music, which seems impossibly louder than it was a few minutes ago. I feel like I'm drowning in music.

"Hey! Get off her!" And then there's Ashley's voice, and her hand on my arm, pulling me away from him. Ashley's touch is like electricity, it makes me feel all tingly inside. So much better than Aiden, so much better than anyone.

"Ash!" I celebrate, wrapping my arms around her neck. "You're here!"

Ashley returns my hug tightly, her gentle laughter brushing past my ear.

"What the hell have you been drinking, Spence?"

I pull back, regarding her more seriously. "Just one. One little drink."

Ashley laughs so loudly it makes my insides jump.

"Sure you did! God, you can barely stand up." I sigh as Ashley concedes her point, holding me close again. "I guess I'll be the one taking care of you tonight, huh?"

"Mmm." I lift my head from her shoulder, the room's spinning and flashing bright, white; there's so many faces. "Where's Madison?"

"Don't know, don't care."

I drop my head back onto her shoulder, feeling awash with contentment. Ashley's so soft, like a great, big pillow. Or a fluffy, float-y cloud.

"What's wrong? _Spencer_?"

Maybe I'm the cloud. I feel funny, like I'm not really in Ashley's arms at all; like I'm suspended from the ceiling, like a great big, colourful piñata.

I can see and hear everything that's going on, feel it even, but it's all happening so fast. Or maybe it's slow and disjointed, or a mixture of the two. I don't really know.

I just know that Ashley's here, and she's shouting, shouting at that big idiot Aiden, asking him the same thing over and over.

"_What did you give her!?_"

Then it all starts to get all blurry and scary, and I can't really hear Ashley's voice anymore. I can just hear loads of voices, and there's a cascade of people staring at me. Madison's one of them, and she's yelling too.

I can't feel any part of myself; I can't feel my legs or my arms, I can't move. I can't call out.

I want Ashley, I just want Ashley.

I wonder if I'm going to die?

"Ash?" I think that was me, I think I said that. Only it doesn't sound like me, and it was so quiet. Everything's so loud, I wish they'd all stop shouting.

My face feels all hot, and I think it's started raining, either that or I'm crying rivers.

"It's okay, it's okay." Ashley's leaning over me, her hands are cool and she's wiping the raindrops from my cheeks. "Ssh, it's going to be okay. It'll stop soon, I promise."

And it does, gradually everything stops; the numbness dwindles from my limbs and I don't feel like I'm going to float away anymore. I feel the opposite, heavy and groggy, like someone whacked my piñata-self with a great big stick and got all the candy out.

"Are you okay?" Ashley asks, her face slipping into focus as I open my eyes. I don't even remember closing them, or being laid down on Madison's couch.

"Better." I tell her, because I don't really know how else to describe it. I don't feel normal, but I don't feel completely bizarre anymore either. "I want to go home."

"Back to mine?" Ashley suggests, stroking the back of my hand lightly with her thumb. "Your Mom will freak big time if she sees you like this."

I nod tiredly, she's right.

"Thanks."

"Do you think you can stand up?"

Honestly, I have no idea, but I seize the opportunity to try. Ashley helps, letting me lean on her; my legs are still unsteady and uncoordinated, but I'm determined. I want to get out of here.

"I'm not sure I should drive." Ashley admits, and my mind wanders back to earlier, and the entire bottle of tequila she demolished. God, that feels like days ago.

"There's a taxi outside, if you want it." A friendly voice offers, and I vaguely recognise the girl as being one of Madison's devout cheerleaders. "I'll get the next one."

"Thanks." Ashley accepts quickly, never one to linger on pleasantries. "Come on, Spence, let's go."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **Spent many an hour wrestling with this one - enjoy and please review if you have time :)

*****

I cry all the way back to Ashley's house; not just little tears either, great big, heaving sobs that can't possibly be disguised or ignored. Ashley looks positively panicked, she doesn't know what to do with me and frankly I'm not surprised. In all the years we've been friends she's never had to take care of me, it's always been the other way round.

When we finally get up to her room, Ashley freezes. I still don't trust myself to walk without her support, so I find myself just standing there too, with Ashley's arms around me and fresh tears still running down my face. Everything's so out of my control right now, and I wish I could stop crying but I don't know how.

Suddenly it's like someone flips a switch inside Ashley's head, and we're moving with purpose again. I find myself being sat softly on her bed, and an oversized hoody being tugged over my small frame; I hadn't even realised how cold I was, wearing nothing but this borrowed bikini.

"Get under the covers, Spence, you're shaking." Ashley's voice nudges softly, as she props a small mountain of pillows behind my head. "I'm going to get you something to drink. I'll come right back, okay?"

I nod and close my eyes, feeling instantly calmer just for being in her bed, cocooned in her scent. It doesn't take long for me to start drifting off, my tears finally subdued beneath the weight of my eyelids.

It can only be minutes later when Ashley returns, and I wake to find her fingertips tracing invisible lines on my face. She looks worried, and I long to reassure her and tell her that she doesn't have to do this anymore, that I'm going to be alright; but I can't quite manage it yet.

I settle instead, for a tiny smile.

"I'm okay, Spence." Ashley responds, reading my mind. "So don't you dare start worrying about me."

"Sorry. I'm just not used to…"

"Me looking after you?"

"_Anyone_ looking after me." I correct, although the latter is probably less true and we both know it. "Can I smell something burning?"

"Ah." Ashley winces, indicating to a mug on the table beside me. "Hot cocoa. I burnt the pan."

"You made me _cocoa_? In a _pan_?"

"Mm-hmm." She nods, suddenly coy. "There's a glass of water too. I didn't know which was right, I mean… you know what I mean?"

"I know." I confirm with a smile. "You've been perfect. Thank you." Ashley breathes a huge sigh of relief, flopping back onto her own side of the bed. "I don't understand how you knew about Aiden though?"

Ashley frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you pulled me away from him?" I lift my blue eyes to hers. "If you hadn't it could have been a lot worse."

"Don't even think about that." She cautions, her voice low and guttural. "I just… I saw him getting heavy, that's all."

"I'm so glad you were there."

"I should never have left you alone with him." Ashley mutters; and I instinctively rest my hand on hers.

"You couldn't have known. Besides, you had your own stuff going on."

"Exactly, and it was my psycho girlfriend who introduced you to him in the first place!"

"That still doesn't make it your fault." I point out, readying my face with the most neutral expression I can muster. "So, um, she's still your girlfriend then?"

Ashley blinks, her mouth tightening.

"I don't really know right now."

I give her hand an understanding rub and reach for my cocoa; the mug's comforting and warm against my palm and the heat that escalates from it, sugary sweet. It's exactly what I need right now, hot cocoa and Ashley.

"I'm just glad that you're okay." Ashley regards me carefully. "You are okay, aren't you?"

"Mostly." I whisper; my eyes darting towards our hands, where Ashley's fingers are gradually rising to tangle with mine.

"If anything had happened to you…"

"Hey, what happened to not thinking about that?"

"Right, sorry." Ashley looks reproachful, but still her gaze seeks out mine. I barely dare look at her for too long, frightened I may lose myself entirely in those dark, shimmering eyes. "Spencer…" She breathes my name, her free hand drifting to my face and her thumb indenting my lower lip. "I…"

I lean into her, just a little, just enough.

"Ash?" I urge, making it a question, recognising the confusion that's wrinkling her forehead.

She buckles in that moment, making a beeline for my cheek and kissing it chastely.

"It's late, we should…"

"Sleep." I fill in, putting my mug down.

"Yeah. Night, Spence."

"Goodnight, Ash."

Wow.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Sorry you had to wait a while for this update. The bad news is I'm back on placement for the next seven weeks and have a few assignments too, but I will do my best to keep updating. Your reviews will help me with that so please don't be shy ;). Enjoy.**

*********

I sleep like a rock. I'm supposed to get up early and go to church on a Sunday, but today I don't even try. Mom will go crazy when I get home later, but it's worth it; I'm just so comfortable.

Ashley seems pretty comfortable too. I'm used to her weird sleeping positions, but this is definitely the first time I've woken up to find one of her legs tucked between mine. There also seems to be a rogue hand under the hem of my hoody, resting on my stomach, heavy and still. I guess it wouldn't be quite so awkward if she wasn't still wearing her bikini; as it is, I can't seem to breathe without brushing up against even more of her bare skin.

"Well isn't this cosy?"

I open my eyes in a flash, appropriately stunned by the imposing figure at the foot of the bed. Is this some sort of nightmare? I elbow Ashley, three times, before I receive any kind of response; an incoherent groan.

"Ashley, wake up." I hiss, my eyes still trained on our impromptu visitor. Ashley groans irritably again, sliding her hand out from under my hoody and using it to rub her face.

"It better be afternoon, Spence. I swear to God."

I glace inadvertently at the clock by her bedside; it's only five past nine.

"Someone's here to see you." I mumble; causing Ashley's hand to still and one of her eyes to squint open.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here!?" She barks.

I shift uncomfortably, still all too aware of Ashley's leg being nestled intimately with mine under the covers. I wonder fretfully whether Ashley doesn't care, or just hasn't noticed yet.

"Your housekeeper let me in. We need to talk." Madison instigates, her arms folding in steely determination.

"I'm not ready to talk to you yet."

"Look, I just wanted to apologise for what happened. I had no idea Aiden would do something like that, Spencer. You do believe me, don't you?"

I shrug and look away, the memory of last night is still far too raw to confront in my own head, let alone with a captive audience.

"She doesn't want to talk about it, Madison!" Ashley sounds completely exasperated, and she's looking at Madison like she's some sort of socially-inept idiot. Which I guess she kind of is. "Just leave us alone!"

"You'd both like that wouldn't you, more alone time?" If there was ever any trace of sorrow or regret on Madison's face, it's quickly dispersed. "Maybe I'm not the only one who should be apologising this morning!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You two! You're practically _spooning_ under there!"

Ashley snorts. "Don't be so ridiculous."

I feel as though I should say something to back Ashley up, but nothing very convincing is coming to mind. In fact all I can think about right now is how close we came to kissing last night, and how I'm still very much entangled in Ashley's left leg.

"So you're telling me that nothing's going on?"

"Of course not! Did you forget to take your anti-stupid pills?" Ashley scoffs, with a nonchalant stretch. "Spencer's straight, remember?"

Madison raises her chin defiantly. "Are you sure about that?"

Thank god I'm not eating or drinking anything, because I'd definitely be choking on it right now. Instead, I'm turning bright red and sinking a little deeper under the covers.

"I can't do this anymore." Ashley grumbles bad-temperedly, her leg suddenly losing contact with mine as she rolls over onto her stomach. "I'm sick of your games, Madison. If you want to talk properly you can call me tonight, otherwise I'll see you at school."

"Fine." Madison accepts primly, looking far too pleased with herself for my liking. "I'll call you tonight then." With that she saunters towards Ashley's side of the bed and leans over, planting a prolonged kiss onto her cheek.

I can't see Ashley's reaction and I don't need to; she didn't pull away and that's enough to make me feel queasy. I feel pretty stupid for being upset by something so small, and I know this is probably all part of Madison's evil plan, but I can't help it. Sulky and confused, I roll onto my side, putting my back to the pair of them.

Long after Madison's gone, I still haven't moved. I can feel Ashley tossing and turning beside me, like she always does when she's having trouble falling back to sleep, but I don't bother asking if she's alright like I normally do. Usually I'd be revelling in having an excuse to touch her, because she almost always asks me to rub her back, or stroke her hair, but right now I can't stand the thought of being that close to her. Right now, I'm too hurt and angry and lost.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I don't know how this part grew so big but it did (over 1,000 words) and I could have gone on! Nevermind, there is always part 16 for that ;). Enjoy x**

*****

When I get home from Ashley's I go straight up to my room and close the door; I don't come out all day, not even when Dad makes my favourite spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. Mom's worried of course, but I fob her off and tell her I'm just hung-over from the party last night. Her disgust at my irresponsible drinking is a small price to pay for a bit of peace and quiet.

The truth is, I'm so frustrated with Ashley right now that I can't think straight. It's like the whole thing is messing me up from the inside, churning my stomach in sickly circles and sending my emotions haywire. I feel like I want to laugh, cry and shout all at the same time; but that's impossible, so instead I just sit, pine and reminisce.

I play last night back in my head like it's a movie stuck on repeat; trying to catch just a glimmer of what Ashley might have been thinking or feeling, but there's simply no way of knowing. All I know is that, in that moment, there was definitely something between us. I mean I know for a fact that I couldn't have just imagined it, because even my wildest fantasies about Ashley never feel _that_ good; and they certainly don't make my heart pump so fast that I'm worried it might explode. No, that was all real and all Ashley. Ashley wanted to kiss me, but for some reason, she didn't.

That's the depressing part right there. Not to mention Madison's untimely teleportation into Ashley's bedroom this morning; her presence certainly didn't help matters, but then again that was probably her intention. Everything would have been perfect if it wasn't for her, Ashley and I could have had a nice, snuggley Sunday morning, maybe with coffee and doughnuts; but instead we got weird awkwardness, and me running out on her after she'd fallen back to sleep. To sum up, it was just another Spencer and Ashley disaster.

I groan as my cell phone starts ringing for the third time tonight; Ashley never knows when to give up. I'm definitely not answering her, I just want a nice, quiet night in, wearing my fleecy sheep pyjamas and gorging on the secret chocolate stash I keep in my sock drawer.

"Wow, you really are ignoring me aren't you?" I practically fall off the bed when Ashley walks into my room, her cell phone in hand and a huge tub of ice-cream tucked under her arm. "So what happened earlier, did I drool on you or something?"

I'm still gawping at her like some sort of goldfish having a panic attack as she leaps onto my bed, shoving the tub of ice-cream and two spoons at me.

"It's rum and raisin. That's still your favourite, right?" I nod mutely. "Great! So, I have a whole bunch of movies in my bag. I thought we could make a night of it."

"Um…"

"Oh your Mom doesn't mind, she says you need cheering up. She's even making up the couch for me! Sweet, huh?"

It's pretty rare that Ashley's allowed to stay at mine on a school night, and I know I should try and make the most of it, but my bad mood is being pretty stubborn right now.

"Shouldn't you be spending time with Madison?" I ask tersely, setting the ice-cream and spoons down on my nightstand. Ashley bristles, a tense hand running through her hair.

"You're not the only one who's been ignoring phone calls." She admits, biting her lower lip. "She caught me off-guard this morning, but I meant what I said before about not being ready to talk to her."

Beneath all of my bad moodiness I feel a slight pang of sympathy for Ashley; I know what it's like to be hurt and confused, and it must be hard for her having to deal with all that and Madison, who is anything but straightforward.

"So you thought you'd hide out at mine?"

"No, I thought I'd make sure you're okay." Ashley tilts her head at me, an attentive gesture she doesn't pull out too often. "What's wrong, Spence?"

Since when did Ashley get so insightful and caring? It's hard to keep my true feelings from her when she keeps looking at me like that.

"Who said anything's wrong?" I deflect, shrugging my shoulders.

"Spencer, you've been sat in your room all day wearing those stupid pyjamas and ignoring my calls. Something's definitely wrong."

I pout down at my sheep pyjamas. "They're not stupid."

"Okay, but neither am I." Ashley seems incredibly serious; it's unnerving. "Are you going to tell me what's going on? Did I do something?"

I'm half tempted to tell her that it's more about what she _didn't_ do, but that would involve the truth, not to mention running the risk of all sorts of horrible repercussions.

"It's about what Madison said, isn't it?" Ashley pushes, intent on getting some kind of reaction out of me. "The gay thing?"

My eyes must be bulging out of my head at this point: _the gay thing_? Great, yet another topic I was hoping to avoid for a very, very long time. Damn this new, insightful Ashley.

"Spencer, are you gay?"

"What!?"

"Well I don't know! You're being all mysterious." Ashley lowers her voice considerably, toying with the hem of her shirt. "You know it doesn't matter… if you are."

I go back to looking like a panic-stricken goldfish; Ashley's giving me the perfect opportunity to come out here. What do I do?!

"Does it matter?" I whisper, my throat suddenly so dry that the words get lodged there, barely leaving my lips.

Ashley smiles softly. "No, not to me."

"Good." I breathe, my relief probably palpable it's so immense. "So, what movies did you bring?"

It's a refreshing change of conversation, and Ashley's all too eager to show me her selection.

"We've got straight romance, lesbian romance, and a horror." Ashley looks momentarily pained at the last option; she hates horror films, and I know she's only brought it round for my benefit. So that leaves me with Pretty Woman, There's Something about Mary or Imagine Me and You.

"You know what we haven't seen for a while-"

"No! No way. I refuse to watch it again."

I hop off the bed and retrieve my well-worn copy of The Sound of Music from my DVD shelf, clutching it lovingly to my chest.

"Please, Ash?"

"It's the singing I can't stand. It's just so… corny." Ashley looks positively dismayed.

"I thought you were here to cheer me up?" I hold the film out firmly. "This will cheer me up."

"It better." She murmurs playfully. "Because you owe me for this. Big time."

I squeal happily and rush over to my DVD player before she has a chance to change her mind.

"You'll love it." I promise as I slip the disc in and hit play.

"Yeah, yeah, you say that every time."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long, but I haven't forgotten about this story! Please review if you have time and I will try and get more up asap :).**

Even after a huge dose of The Sound of Music, my Monday morning blues hit me hard. I go to bed cheerful, humming along to The Hills are Alive, and wake up in a downward spiral of depression. I don't want to go to school, I don't want to see Aiden, and I really don't want to see Madison and Ashley making up or making out, or somehow managing to do both simultaneously.

I must look pretty miserable when I finally make my way downstairs, because Dad slips me an extra apple pancake for breakfast and, when I don't eat it, offers to make me an omelette or French toast instead. Ashley on the other hand barely seems to register my existence; I'm not surprised though, because it's still early and she's only halfway through her extra strong coffee.

When we eventually leave for school we're nearly twenty minutes late; it's partly my fault because I'm just so reluctant to get there, but I prefer to blame it on Ashley and her extremely lengthy, and slightly OCD, hair and makeup routines. The bulk of today's dilemma was focused around which lip gloss she should wear: Toffee Treat or Cheeky Cherry. I just hope she's not making any extra effort for Madison's benefit.

We must have been driving for about ten minutes before I realise we're going in completely the wrong direction.

"Um, Ash?" I gesture vaguely over my shoulder. "Isn't school that way?"

Ashley smiles, one of those cute, mischievous smiles I know all too well.

"It sure is, Spence. Last time I checked though, the beach is this way."

"The beach?"

"Uh-huh."

Ashley and I haven't been to the beach for weeks, we used to go all the time when she first learnt to drive; and when we were much younger my Mom would take us every other weekend, we'd spend hours in the rock pools, chasing waves and digging in the sand.

"What about school?" I worry; no matter how much I don't want to go, skipping class always makes me a little nervous.

"All taken care of. Your Mom rang in this morning and told them how incredibly sick you are." Ashley describes with a breathy chuckle. "And my Mom left a message last night: family emergency. Poor Aunt Irene."

"You're going to hell, do you know that?" Ashley has probably inflicted serious injury, illness or death on at least half of her family members over the last few years. "And I can't believe you've been planning this since last night!"

"I just couldn't face it today."

I sigh in mutual understanding. "Me either."

"But it's nothing some sun, sea, and Spashley time won't fix!" Ashley grins, with a slight raise of her eyebrows.

"You know we haven't referred to ourselves as 'Spashley' since we were about eight, right?" I'm not even sure where the phrase came from, although I vaguely remember my older brother Glen using it once to make fun of how inseparable we are.

"So? It fits."

"Yeah, I guess it does." I muse; touched by her well-guarded sentiment. "You do realise I didn't bring a bathing suit though?"

"Quit worrying, I've got everything we'll need in the trunk."

Satisfied, I lean back in my seat and decide to make the most of it; after all, it's not often Ashley goes to such special lengths to spend a whole day with just me. Especially lately, when all her time seems to be taken up by Madison-related activities, like cheer practice and shopping.

The beach turns out to be relatively empty, I guess because most people are at work or school. We take it in turns to get changed in Ashley's car, which isn't all that easy considering it's a soft top with no back seat. To my relief, the bikini she's brought for me turns out to be modest and simple: it's white with little red anchors. Ashley's on the other hand is slightly more revealing, which I'm in no way complaining about, and is covered in khaki green camouflage print and tiny dewdrop diamantes.

To my surprise, Ashley's also had the forethought to pack a beach bag with drinks, snacks and towels. Before we can get into an argument about who's going to carry it (which I'll inevitably lose), I hook it over my shoulder, and moments later we running towards the sea, giggling like small children.

I only paddle up to my waist, whereas Ashley throws herself wholeheartedly into the waves further out, beckoning for me to follow. It's not that I'm scared of the water or anything like that; I just don't like the feeling of having half the beach in my hair, and besides, mine doesn't tend to dry in cute, natural curls like Ashley's does: it's more like a bird's nest.

By some stroke of luck, before Ashley can attempt to talk me round again, she's taken under by a particularly large wave. She must swallow a big gulp of sea water, but she resurfaces quickly, coughing and cursing.

Without another word, we wade back towards the shore, with her looking like a drowned rat and me struggling to keep a straight face.

"It's not funny."

I bite my lip, trying to keep the persistent grin from forming there. "It is a little bit funny."

"I could have drowned!" Ashley exclaims dramatically, still emitting an occasional cough and pulling clumps of seaweed from her limbs. "You didn't even try to save me!"

"Now you're being stupid."

"Am not!"

"Ash, you were under the water for like, two seconds?"

"Well, it felt like longer." She submits with a grumpy frown. "Pass me a towel?"

Dutifully, I pull one of the towels from her beach bag and help to drape it over her shoulders, before we both sink into identical sitting positions on the sand.

"I'm sorry I laughed at you."

"Yeah well, I'd probably have laughed at you too."

I nudge her elbow with mine. "_Probably_?"

"Okay - definitely."

We share brief, easy smiles, our bodies leaning into one another as I divert my attention back out to sea; closing my eyes as the fresh, saline winds drift through my hair.

"Spencer?"

"Mm?" I don't want to talk. Everything feels so close to perfect right now, like we're in the final scene of some romantic movie; all that's missing is the sunset, and you know, the fact that Ashley's not actually in love with me. At least not in the way I want her to be.

Her silence stretches on for several minutes, until finally I give in and turn to look at her. She's upon me before I can take another breath, her hand cupping the side of my face and her lips warm against mine: they taste like the sea with a hint of cherry lip gloss.

It's different from the last time we kissed, she's totally sober and every touch is more certain, more firm. I kiss her back without hesitation, my hand gliding over her forearm, where her skin is still cool from the water and scattered with grains of sand.

She feels so good, better than good, yet something inside me is restless and unsettled.

I pull back. "Wait, this isn't right."

Ashley looks momentarily stricken, her hands jerking away from me. I miss them immediately.

What the hell am I doing?

"God, Spence, I'm so sorry." She apologises in a rush of air. "I didn't… I mean, I don't know why I even did that. I'm such an idiot."

"You're not an idiot." I protest weakly, my one and only chance with Ashley slipping away before my very eyes. "It's just-"

"I know, I know." Ashley shakes her head, clearly annoyed with herself. "You're my best friend, and I never, ever want anything to jeopardise that."

"Me either, but-"

"Can we just forget it ever happened? Please, Spencer?"


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Sorry for the suspense of the last chapter! This next part came about pretty quickly, hope you all like it :).**

I think this is the first time I've ever seen Ashley look embarrassed, in fact embarrassed doesn't cover it: she looks mortified. It's no wonder really - out of all the people Ashley's kissed I must be the only one stupid enough to have asked her to stop. Seriously, do I have some sort of mental deficit?

"Spencer, say something."

I haven't been able to get a word in edgeways; I keep trying to explain myself, but she won't let me, she just keeps jumping to conclusions. Wrong conclusions.

"I-"

"You hate me, don't you?"

There she goes again. That's the problem with Ashley, once she starts beating herself up for something it's hard to get her to stop.

"I could never hate you." I assure, trying to keep my tone soft and warm.

"So we can forget about it then?"

I wish she'd stop saying that, it rips me apart inside. How can I just forget that she kissed me? Unlike the first time there's been no alcohol involved, there's simply no excuses. You can't just erase this.

I shake my head. "Will you just listen to me?"

Ashley frowns wearily, like this whole situation is getting too much for her.

"Okay."

I take a deep breath, trying to find some sort of rational starting place for what is sure to be the scariest conversation of my life.

"The reason I told you to stop?" I offer it to her as a question, needing some sort of validation before I continue: Ashley nods slowly. "Was because of Madison."

I can't skirt around it, can't pad it out or make it pretty. I want Ashley more than anything else in the entire world, but I still have some sense of morality. I can't have my moment with her until Madison is well and truly out of the picture: I want Ashley all to myself.

"You have to sort things out with her." I add, as her chocolate eyes squeeze closed and she presses her fingertips to her temples. "I know you, Ash, and I know it's hard and confusing, but sometimes you have to work through all that before you can have something good. Do you understand?"

"You're so right." Ashley murmurs, her eyes opening again and blinking past me, across the shimmering sands. "I guess that's why I kissed you, because I've just been trying so hard to avoid dealing with my feelings for her."

"Wait, that's not-"

"My head's just been in such a mess." She pauses, fixing me with an inquisitive smile. "How do you always know this stuff before I do?"

I shrug, my eyes wandering, searching for something, anything, to impale myself with. My only option is one of those colourful beach umbrellas, but I'd like to keep at least a scrap of my dwindling dignity.

Honestly, I don't know how I get through the next few hours, but I do. Ashley seems oblivious to my suffering and goes on and on about Madison, pestering me for advice about what she should say to her and when. I decide to go along with it, because it's easier that way and somehow hurts a little less.

Ashley gets me back home with ten minutes to spare. Not wanting to arouse suspicion, we park up around the corner, the sudden silence between us even more pronounced as she shuts the engine off.

Ashley speaks first. "You're still freaked out, aren't you? About the whole kiss thing."

"I'm not freaked." I mumble into my chest, my eyes downcast and my hands knitting together in my lap.

"Yeah right." Ashley exhales noisily, leaning closer to me. "I promise I'll never pull anything stupid like that again, okay?" I shrug, frustrated. "Unless you want me to?"

I look up to find her grinning, that familiar glint of mischief dancing in her eyes. She's not serious of course, she's just trying to make me feel better and lighten the mood. If only she knew that comments like that just make me feel ten times worse.

I surprise us both when I open the passenger door and climb out onto the sidewalk, swinging my school bag onto my back.

"Well…" I fight to keep my voice steady, but it's so fragile that it barely carries across the distinct void that's looming between us. "Maybe I do."

I slam the door shut before she can respond, her facial expression the epitome of shock and confusion; and I'm glad, because that means that she definitely heard me.

I walk briskly towards my house, leaving her to work things out on her own, confident that she can't possibly make the same mistake twice and misunderstand my intentions. I just hope this doesn't all blow up in my face.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: I don't know if you guys get sent my updates as e-mails but sorry if you get this one sent twice - I forgot to check it and the first upload was all in bold/underlined for some weird reason. Anyway! I've been waiting to post this part for ages, barely have time today as I'm about to go to work, but I didn't want to make you wait. Enjoy and thank you so much for the reviews!**

I don't hear from Ashley again until the next morning. I'm halfway through getting dressed when my phone flashes her name alongside '1 new message'. I waste about ten minutes just staring at it, until I can finally bring myself to hit 'read'.

_At Mad's house. C u school xxx_

I wish I hadn't bothered. My mind races; she must have been there all night, she probably went straight round there after dropping me off yesterday, I bet she hasn't thought twice about what I said. Then there's the three kisses, I normally only get one: I bet she knows I'll be furious.

I have to get Glen to take me, I hate riding to school with him. His music is even louder than Ashley's and he's probably the worst driver I know; he slams the breaks on at every red light and totally ignores the speed limit. If Ashley's text didn't make me feel ill, Glen's driving certainly makes up for it.

Ashley doesn't show up for her first few classes; the teachers keep asking me where she is, as if we're joined at the hip or something. I guess we normally are, but not today: today just hearing her name called out sickens me. To make things worse all of Madison's friends keep looking at me and whispering, I don't know why and I don't really care, but I suspect it's because of what happened with Aiden. Fortunately, he doesn't seem to be at school today either.

At lunch time I discover Ashley leaning against my locker, with her arms folded over her chest and a typically passive expression on her face. Part of me is happy to see that she's alone and clearly waiting for me, but mostly I just want to turn around and run in the opposite direction.

So that's exactly what I do.

"Spencer, wait!"

I barely make it ten feet before she catches up to me, her hand loosely grasping my elbow and bringing me to a reluctant stop. I try my hardest not to make eye contact with her, because I'm a sucker for her eyes, especially on sunny days like today when they twinkle like copper.

"What's wrong?"

I let out a small huff of air before replying: "Nothing."

"Good." Ashley shuffles her feet uncomfortably, briefly ducking her head. "So, I went to see Madison last night."

I throw my hands up in despair. "I can't listen to this! You might be able to just forget what happened between us, but I can't! And I can't just stand here and pretend to be happy that you're back together, because I'm not!"

Ashley tilts her head and smiles; she actually has the audacity to smile at me. I want to hit her.

"Are you quite finished?" She continues to smile, and I continue to seethe. "I haven't forgotten what happened, it's all I've been thinking about, and that's why I went to see Madison last night. To end it."

I feel like all the wind's just been sucked out of my sails.

"Oh."

"I only stayed over because it was so late, and she was so upset."

"…."

"But I slept in one of the spare rooms, I swear."

"……."

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

I search my extensive vocabulary for something appropriate, but I keep coming up blank.

"Um…"

Ashley's smile widens. "So, I thought we could go out this weekend." Is she actually suggesting what I think she's suggesting? "We could see a movie?"

I finally respond with a giddy laugh.

"You hate the movies. The only reason you go is because it's easier to make your first move on a girl in the dark…" I realise what I've just said and frown deeply. "Oh."

"I guess this is why most people don't date their best friends." Ashley points out with a quirk of her eyebrow. "Well, we can go somewhere else if you want?"

I shake my head. "No, I want the full-on Ashley Davies experience, and did you just say _date_?"

"I might have."

"This is…"

"Weird?"

"I was going to say surreal."

"So Friday then?"

"Friday." I agree, my stomach fluttering. "I should get to class."

"It's lunch time?"

"Right."

"Well I might just…"

"Yeah. Me too."

We both move in a rush, successfully bumping into each other.

"Sorry!"

"Sorry!"

We share a pair of goofy smiles.

"I'll just go this way." Ashley murmurs, backing away cautiously. "See you later?"

"In math." I nod.

"Can't wait."

"For math?"

"Shut up, smartass."

I think I might just burst I'm so happy.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Is anyone still out there? Haha. It's been too long again and I apologise. This is part one of their date, part two to follow soon x**

Ashley and I sort of avoid each other for the rest of the week, it seems like whenever we're anywhere near each other we get all awkward and giggly. We settle instead for sending lots of texts about nothing in particular, and there's always more than one kiss at the end: last night I got five.

Even though I've been waiting for this for so long, I find myself holding back and letting Ashley take the lead. I mean I've never even had a steady boyfriend, just a few on and off encounters that hardly blew my mind; but now I've got all these crazy, overwhelming feelings to deal with, and all these important decisions to make. I literally worry about everything: like what perfume should I wear, and does Ashley like my hair better up or down, and how many kisses should I send back?

By Friday night I'm a nervous wreck; it takes me nearly twenty minutes to do my mascara because my hands are shaking so much I keep smudging it. At least I've had my outfit picked out since Wednesday: a fairly short black skirt and a white spaghetti top. I've made a point of not wearing jeans, even though I feel a tiny bit self-conscious with so much flesh on show.

Ironically, it's Ashley who decides to wear jeans tonight, and we share a little smirk at our very apparent role reversals. I needn't worry about feeling overdressed though, as Ashley's barely-wearing a thin bandana shirt that looks as though it might just drop to the ground at any given moment. The temptation to untie it is almost irresistible, but I manage to refrain.

We hardly talk on the way there, but the atmosphere between us is buzzing and I can't stop smiling. Ashley's made a new CD with all my favourite songs: it even has Kelly Clarkson, and she _hates_ Kelly Clarkson - that doesn't seem to stop her from singing along to _A Moment Like This _at the top of her lungsthough.

Ashley is also very chivalrous about opening doors for me tonight, which is fine, until we encounter an automatic door that initiates a serious case of 'after you' syndrome. In the end, we attempt to go through it at the same time, which sends me flying into the doorframe and Ashley into the arms of a nearby security guard.

While I walk away with some bruising and a semi-concussion, Ashley comes out unscathed, proudly flaunting the security guard's phone number.

"Just for fun." She assures, before morphing back into concerned, chivalrous Ashley and fussing far too much over my minor injuries.

I feel fine, but I feel even better when we round the next corner and she throws his phone number straight into the nearest bin.

Ashley insists on buying our tickets; we've already decided that we want to see the latest release, a romantic comedy called Waiting for Delilah. Unfortunately though, the universe seems to be conspiring against us.

"It's sold out." The young, heavily pierced girl at the counter drawls out, her mouth clamping noisily around a well-chewed piece of gum.

"What else have you got?" Ashley sounds remarkably calm so I decide to keep out of it, fidgeting nervously behind her.

Gum-chewing-girl reluctantly clicks and taps away on her computer, rolling her eyes every so often.

"Armande."

"What?"

"It's like, about this guy Armande." She replies, dully. "Do you wanna see it or what?"

Ashley shrugs and throws her platinum card onto the counter, tapping her foot impatiently as the girl runs it through her machine.

"Declined."

"Excuse me?"

"Card's declined. Got another?"

Ashley laughs in disbelief. "I've got enough money on that card to buy my _own_ movie theatre - try it again."

"Declined."

"You didn't even try it!?"

"Ash, just let me pay." I interrupt, pulling a twenty from my purse. "It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal! I want to know what her problem is!"

"Keep shouting and I'll call security." The cashier threatens, still as monotone as ever.

I rest a restraining hand on Ashley's shoulder; I wouldn't put it past her to do something crazy right now, like jump over the counter and start a chick fight, complete with hair pulling and face slapping.

I fix her with a stern stare. "I think you've had enough _contact_ with security already, don't you?"

Ashley groans petulantly in reply, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

"Fine. You pay. I'll be over here."

After paying fifteen dollars for the elusive Armande, I make my way over to Ashley who, having found enough change to buy herself a hotdog, is now locked in battle with a wall mounted sauce dispenser.

"Ashley, be-" I don't even get to finish my sentence before a huge dollop of tomato ketchup launches through the air, landing with a splat onto the white material of my top. "-careful…"

"Shit."

I roll my eyes as she grabs a handful of napkins from the side and proceeds to attack me with them, taking extra, unnecessary care to dab at my chest.

"You're making it worse!" I point out with a miserable whine, wishing I hadn't worn white, or that I'd at least had the sense to bring a jacket. Or maybe a raincoat.

"Sorry, Spence." Ashley mutters, looking genuinely apologetic. "Um, here. You can have my hotdog if you want?"

"Thanks, but I don't think it'll cover the stain." I joke, and receive a small, wary grin in response. "It's okay, really, I'll just cross my arms or something."

"This isn't going very well, is it?" Ashley notes despondently. "Maybe we should just call it a night before something really awful happens."

"Don't be so dramatic. Besides, aren't you curious about Armande?"

She pulls a face. "Um, not so much no."

"Come on, how bad can it be?"

"I guess." Ashley wavers. "As long as it's not a musical."


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Wow those were some great reviews, thank you! I hope you enjoy a few more first date antics ;).**

Things seem to get better once the lights go down; for starters you can't see the awful stain on my shirt, and really, what can possibly go wrong when you're watching a movie?

I feel kind of nervous again though, but that's probably because we're sharing an armrest and we keep nudging each other by accident. At least I think it's by accident, but this is Ashley we're talking about - she probably knows exactly what she's doing. It was her after all who 'forgot' to pick up an extra straw for our Pepsi, so now we're sharing, which wouldn't be nearly so much of an issue if Ashley didn't keep toying with the end of it with the tip of her tongue. She also has this annoying habit of chewing them, you know, so they end up all flat with little teeth marks in; and I can't escape the fact that whenever I take a sip it tastes just like her lip gloss: she's wearing Toffee Treat tonight - yummy.

To sum up, it's all driving me completely insane and I'm constantly on edge just waiting for her to make some sort of move.

My only saving grace is the movie, which is actually a welcome distraction from Ashley's straw antics and the little sparks that dance up my arm every time I brush against hers. For Ashley though, our choice of movie couldn't be any worse: Armande isn't just a musical, it's a musical performed entirely in French.

"I don't understand it!"

"Read the subtitles?" I whisper back, although I'm not really sure why I'm bothering to be so quiet - the theatre is practically empty.

"_Read?_" Ashley scoffs. "No thanks."

I roll my eyes back towards the screen, trying to block out Ashley's deliberate fidgeting and obnoxiously loud sighs. I guess it's not exactly the romantic first date she had in mind for us, but that's not going to stop me from enjoying the movie; after all I did pay for it, and if I'm honest some of the songs are quite catchy. I'd much rather be kissing Ashley though.

As though reading my mind, Ashley pulls out her infamous first move not ten minutes later. I'm not quite sure what I was expecting; maybe for her to be a little bit more tentative about it, but she just oozes confidence as she slips her arm around me, her fingertips dancing across the base of my neck.

I'd like to say that I'm playing it cool, that maybe I'm not one of those girls who just falls at the feet of her date in a speechless heap, but I'm pretty much powerless when it comes to Ashley. She smiles at my eagerness, our bodies twisting in our seats and drawing closer, affirming that we both want this - actually, I think I _need_ this.

_I need her_.

I think I've lost just about all sense of self-control; it's like all the butterflies in my stomach have just multiplied by a hundred and my chest is starting to get that tight, I-might-hyperventilate feeling: and I know that the only way to make it stop is to kiss her.

I'm just glad it's dark because there's nothing calm or graceful about me right now; I grasp at her flimsy bandana top, all but yanking her towards me with shaking hands - who am I kidding, even my toes are shaking - and all I can see are her lips.

In hindsight, it might have helped to look up just a little - I head butt her with a spectacular clunk of my forehead on hers, and we both lurch back with a yelp.

"Ouch, Spencer!" Ashley moans, rubbing her head with an almost comical wince. I say almost - because I'd be laughing if I wasn't so completely and utterly embarrassed right now. "I guess I deserved that for bringing you on such an awful date, huh?"

I shake my head, my cheeks still aflame and probably akin to some sort of beacon in the darkness.

"It's not awful." I insist, although my voice doesn't really hold much weight to it I have to admit. "Um, are you okay?"

Ashley stops cradling her head in her hands long enough to fob me off with a strained smile.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Don't worry about it." There's a distinct pause whilst she massages her head again. "I'm fine."

"You're aware you just said that three times, right?"

"Shut up." Ashley captures my lips with hers before I even have time to process what's happening; there's no time for nerves or shaking body parts, there's just kissing, lots of kissing and hands, hands roaming all over me.

I think I manage to moan her name at some point, but I'm not sure how because I'm barely getting a chance to draw breath, let alone speak. My mouth is filled with Ashley, and toffee, and I don't think I ever want to stop kissing her.

"Spencer!" She gasps, only it's not the kind of gasp I'm hoping for, and instead of pulling me closer she's pulling herself away. "Oh my God."

"Ash, I'm _so _sorry!" I exclaim, my eyes widening as I take in the horrific scene before me.

What could be more embarrassing than head butting your date? Try knocking half a litre of Pepsi into their lap.

Ashley merely whimpers in response, looking forlornly down at her soggy and no doubt very expensive jeans. The atmosphere between us immediately hits an all time low - I want to die.

"I'm sorry." I repeat miserably, a fresh blush rising to my cheeks. "I'm so, so, so sorry."

"It's…" Ashley trails off with an expression of pure futility. "I'm going to the bathroom to get cleaned up."

I watch her go, not daring to follow without an invite, and frankly not wanting to be the cause of any further accidents.

What a disaster.


End file.

South of Nowhere, Romance, Suspense