Chapter Twelve

Spencer had come to the conclusion that she was, in fact, an idiot. Not only was she an idiot, but she was a totally whipped idiot. Not only was she a whipped idiot, she was a whipped by Paula Carlin idiot. Not only was she was a whipped by Paula Carlin idiot, she was a whipped by Paula Carlin, stuck in the house until she was grey and old idiot. Not only was she a… You get the picture.

The blonde sighed heavily as she carelessly mixed the large bowl of prawns into the vat of thousand island sauce that Paula had been up since 5am making from scratch. Spencer was unsure that anyone still ate prawn cocktail, seeing as it wasn’t 1974 anymore, but that was besides the point. The point was that Spencer Carlin had officially exhausted all her options, and in more ways than one.

She had spent the whole morning trying to escape from the New Bedlam (aka the Carlin household) and she finally had to admit defeat. She was fresh out of get out clauses. She had tried and failed to run off earlier that morning, getting caught by Arthur before she was even out of the hallway. Her plea of illness had fallen on Paula’s deaf ears.

She couldn’t use school as an excuse because although King High was now rising itself from the smouldering ashes like some perverse phoenix, it was Saturday anyway. It was not like Ashley was likely to come and save her, not after yesterday’s performance. The less said about that the better. Hell, she had even found herself fleetingly daydreaming about Carmen showing up and helping her out. Hey, I said fleetingly.

It was times like this that made Spencer wish that she had opted for driving lessons on her 16th birthday instead of Irish dancing classes, so then she would at least have a car to aid her. I stand corrected; the less said about that the better. There were no two ways about it; she was stuck in this haven of torture for the rest of today, possibly forever. It was a kind of torture previously unbeknown to man. It was rougher than anything any man had survived before. It came in the form of a role as unofficially willing helper in the preparation for a Paula Carlin organised baby shower.

At least she could be thankful that she was not the pregnant one all of these overblown plans were being forced upon, although she couldn’t help but feel sorry for Chelsea. She had not been in that particular situation herself, but she was pretty sure that a demonic blonde Party-zilla was the last thing you needed when you were heavily pregnant. Clay really had the last laugh when he left Chelsea with Paula as a mother in law.

Spencer’s musings were interrupted from a suspicious rustling coming from the back garden. She dropped the prawn coated spoon into the bowl, causing even more of the pink crustaceans to spill out and join their numerous friends already on the kitchen counter. If one good thing was going to come out of today, it was that Spencer was finally going to catch the mystery gifter. She was sure of it.

The way she looked at it was that if she was stuck in the house all day, the gifts would have to come to her. Attached to those particular gifts would have to be the mystery gifter, or at least a willing accomplice. Yes, today was finally the day. She would be able to use her spying skills to solve this mystery. They didn’t call her The Spencer Hari for nothing. Okay, nobody calls me that. But it has a nice ring to it, no?

Spencer strained her neck at the kitchen window to get a better view of the back garden. After a few earlier false alarms involving the neighbour’s overzealous tabby, Spencer was taking no chances. As she looked harder, she could see that this was definitely a person this time. A person wearing a dark jacket with the hood up, no less. Yes! This was a classic mystery intruder outfit.

The shadowy figure disappeared around the corner for a moment before reappearing clutching a large bag. Spencer could see something shiny and exciting looking poking out from the top of the bag. In her gleeful excitement at the anticipation of both receiving another gift and catching the culprit, she almost missed the intruder moving quickly towards the back door.

Leaping away from the kitchen window, the blonde swiftly moved to the door and swung it open with slightly unnecessary force. The person approaching the door jumped back startled and stumbled to the floor, the bag dropping to the ground and emptying its contents at the same time.

“Ah ha!” Spencer yelped as the intruder lay sprawled across the back porch. Like a broken Pamela Anderson watch, this dude was busted.

“Spencer?” The hood slipped down as the figure sat up, revealing a very startled looking Arthur. “What the heck?”

“Dad.” Spencer cocked an accusing eyebrow. “Well, well, well. Who would have thought you be involved in this little shenanigan?” Spencer wasn’t sure if speaking like a 1920s detective was entirely necessary, but she felt that it worked anyway. “Who put you up to this? Was it Ashley? Carmen? Huh?”

“Your mother.” Arthur replied, looking mightily confused. Either my dad has started randomly insulting people, or this situation has just got even stranger.

“Who?”

“You know.” He continued, picking himself off the ground as he spoke. “Blonde, wears blue scrubs a lot, about yay high.” Arthur gestured with a grin. “Oh yeah, and she gave birth to you.”

“Very funny, Dad.” Spencer rolled her eyes. “I’m talking about this.” Spencer waved her arms towards the ground, finally taking a glance at the contents of the spilled bag. “Oh.” What was that that just hit me in the face? Oh yeah, realisation.

“You mean the bunting?” Arthur asked, grabbing an armful of the shiny and rather ugly decoration. “Your Mom wanted me to fetch it from the garage.”

“Oh.”

“Are you feeling alright, Spence?” Arthur pressed the back of his hand to Spencer’s forehead. “You said you were feeling ill earlier and now you seem a bit disorientated.”

“Why are you wearing that jacket?”

“What?”

“The jacket.” Spencer repeated. “With the hood and the stealth colour and the whole hiding in the shadows effect.”

“You must have been mixing those prawns for too long, sport.” Arthur chuckled. “It’s freezing out there.”

“Freezing? In LA?”

“Weird, huh? Maybe it’s part of the global warming thing.” Spencer’s expression glazed slightly as her dad started to take a political turn to the conversation. Luckily, her father was a lot more sensitive to such matters than her mother was and picked up on her boredom quickly. “Maybe you should go out a get some air, hon.”

“Hmm.” Spencer mumbled. “I think I might go and have a lie down.” She said, making a swift exit towards the hallway. Maybe the prawns are getting to me.

Spencer forewent the opportunity to grab a soothing glass of water/whiskey from the kitchen to calm her nerves and headed towards the stairs instead. As she rounded the corner, her head swirling with confusion as per usual, she narrowly missed a head on collision with a cheery looking Paula. The blonde jumped back in a mixture of surprise and/or fear as her mother grinned inanely at her whilst clutching a bizarrely shaped object in her arms. Hold ON; is that gift wrapping?

“Alright, Paula. Out with it.” Spencer folded her arms as she felt herself slipping back in to detective mode. “What is that?” She gestured to the object still firmly in her mother’s grasp.

“Oh, this?” Paula’s eyes did a shifty side to side glance. “It’s nothing.”

“Mommmm…” Spencer dragged out. “I know you’re up to something.”

“Okay, okay.” Paula shrugged her shoulders slightly in defeat. “It was meant to be a surprise.”

“I knew it.” Spencer bobbed her head in triumph. Who knew it would be this easy getting to the truth? You just can’t get the accomplices these days. “Come on. Show me the goods.”

“Surprise!” Paula flashed another inane grin as she quickly whipped the shiny cover off the object in her hands. “It’s my secret recipe vol-au-vents!”

“Vol-au-what now?” Spencer doubted that the look of confusion now crossing her face was unlikely to ever be bettered by anyone in the history of the world as she stared open mouthed at the tray of strange looking snack foods her mother was holding.

“Vol-au-vents.” Paula stressed in a ludicrously un-French European accent. “They’re going to be the centrepiece of Chelsea’s baby shower buffet.”

“You’re sneaking around with a bunch of pastries?”

“Not just any pastries, Spencer. I like to think of them more as canapés.” Paula smiled. “It’s a very interesting concept really. The recipe for getting the puff pastry exactly right has been passed down the family for generations…” Spencer began to zone out and started to wrack her brain for the perfect excuse to get away quickly.

“I have to… pee.” What? Eloquence was never my strong point.

“Okay, honey.” Paula seemed strangely unperturbed by her daughter’s declaration. “While you’re up there, could you take care of that errand I asked you to do earlier?”

“Yeah, okay mom.” Spencer whined petulantly as she started up the stairs two at a time. “I’ll do it soon.”

God, I hate my family.

-

Spencer pushed open the bathroom door after unsuccessfully trying to splash some of the crazy out of herself via a sink full of cold water. As the door swung fully open, she had a clear view into the doorway of Glen’s adjacent room. Her brother was sat on his bed with his back to her, his shoulders huddled over as he worked on something out of her view with his hands. I don’t even want to think about that innuendo.

“Busted!” Spencer shouted, making her brother jump slightly and swing his head round to meet her gaze.

“Spencer!” Glen cringed as his sister made her way into his doorway.

“Seriously, Glen. That better not be one of your dodgy German porno magazines.” Spencer gestured to the object Glen was frantically trying to conceal with his hands. “I hate to break it to you, but those housewives are not going to be ‘hot’ or ‘horny’ after a long day scrubbing floors.”

“And how come you’re so familiar with the content of this month’s issue, Spence?” Glen smirked.

“Um, educated guess?”

“How about I don’t mention that innocent little Spencer’s a regular Hugh Hefner to the parents and you don’t ask any more questions about what I’m doing now?”

“You forget the wealth of ammunition I have backed up ready for use against you, Glen.”

“Like what?”

“Let me see…” Spencer smirked, leaning her arm against the doorway. “I could tell them about the time you and that redhead from King had to go away on that ‘study weekend’ to Vegas.”

“Oh yeah?” Glen retorted. “Then I’m sure they’ll want to hear about how those ‘painting sessions’ you and Carmen seemed so fond of have nothing to do with art.”

“I’ll tell them that you didn’t actually graduate with a real diploma.”

“I’ll tell them that you quit your Irish dancing lessons in favour of going to make out with Ashley at the beach.”

“I’ll tell them that you got herpes off Madison.”

“Hey!” Glen yelped. “That isn’t true!”

“Who said truth had anything to do with it?”

“Okay, then I’ll tell them that you gave it to her.”

Spencer considered her brother’s last comment for a moment, before deciding to run into the bedroom. She launched herself at the edge of the bed and bounced onto it, causing Glen to fly off and land in an unceremonious heap on the floor. She jumped over and sat on his legs, rendering completely unable to get up.

“I’m sure mom has thought worse of me.” Spencer laughed evilly as she scanned the floor for the object Glen was holding earlier. “It’s worth it if I can find out what…” Spencer spotted the glittery gift bag that had fallen out of Glen’s hands and quickly snatched it up. “…this is.”

“No, Spence! Don’t look in there.” Glen tried to struggle into a seated position, but he was still being crushed by his younger sister. “Jeez, how are you so strong?”

“Must have been all that Irish dancing training. It’s all in the flexibility” Spencer smirked as she opened the bag. “Just call me Michael Flatley.”

“I’ll buy you a season ticket to Riverdance if you give me that bag.”

“Tempting, but I’ll pass.” Spencer peered into the bag in her hands and frowned in amazement. Damn, another blow for the Spencer Carlin gift fund. “What the hell is this?”

“Oh, god.” Glen covered his eyes in shame as Spencer waved the floral patterned object in front of him.

“A letter writing kit?” Spencer raised a mocking eyebrow. “And I’m the gay sheep of the family?”

“I can explain.” Glen groaned. “…kind of.”

“Go ahead. I’m quite literally all ears, big bro... or should I say, sis?”

“It’s for Madison.” Glen started. “I kinda still have-a-thing-for-her.” He rushed.

“You what?”

“I have a thing for her! Alright?” Glen said loudly as Spencer chuckled. “I’m man enough to admit my feelings.”

“Seriously?” Spencer asked quietly.

“Yeah, for real.” Glen smiled lightly. “I want to win her back, but she’s been acting really weird recently. She’s always busy and detached and I just can’t seem to get to talk to her properly. I thought that maybe writing down what I felt might help, but I’m not exactly an expert on these things.”

“Glen, that’s actually really sweet.”

“Well, you know.” Glen smiled bashfully. “Don’t let it get out.”

“Come on, I have an idea.” Spencer released her crushing hold on Glen’s legs and stood up, offering her hand to her brother to do the same. “Mom wants me to get her best china out. Apparently it might be in your closet somewhere.”

“Well, we definitely know there’s nothing left in yours to come out.” Glen earned an eye roll from his sister. “Sorry, too easy. I think all that stuff is in the attic.”

“Perfect.”

-

“Hey!” Glen exclaimed as he rifled through a slightly dusty old box in the Carlin attic. “My hat! Do you remember this?” He said excitedly.

“It’s all just come screaming back to me.” Spencer laughed as Glen pulled on the ugly oversized neon baseball cap.

“What do you mean? This cap was the height of fashion in the early 1990s!”

“Yeah, maybe if you were West Philadelphia born and raised.”

“Whatever, Cinderella. You’re just jealous.” Glen laughed and gestured to the crown Spencer was now wearing.

They had spent the last hour up in the attic going through old boxes filled with childhood memories. It had been sometimes funny, sometimes sad when they came across Clay’s old stuff, but mostly a good opportunity to bond after the drama of the past year. And an even better opportunity to hide from Paula.

“Whatever, Zak Morris.” Spencer said. “I’ll always be a princess.”

“I can think of other words to describe…”

“Do you want me to help you with the letter or not?”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” Glen picked up the patterned paper and poised the pen. “So, what’s the first rule on how to start this bad boy?”

“Well, that’s the whole point. There are no rules.” Spencer sighed and leant back on the attic beam. “You just need to be honest with her.”

“You see, I’ve never been too great on that whole honesty thing.” Glen frowned.

“Okay. You just need to say that you’re ready.” Spencer said.

“Ready?”

“You’re ready. You’re ready to give this another go. You’re ready to stop worrying what other people think and just go for it. You’re ready to forget about all the other crap that’s got in the way in the meantime. You’re ready to stand up and say “it’s you that I want; it’s you my heart aches for in the middle of the night.” You’re ready to forget the past and start building your future. You’re ready to risk getting your heart mangled again. You’re ready to give it all up and start over, and to hell with what anyone says because…” Spencer sighed dreamily. “…I’m ready.”

“Wow.” Glen sat staring at his sister, the pen still hovering above the paper. “That was beautiful, but…”

“But?”

“…but you really should be telling Ashley, not Madison.”

“What do you mean?” Spencer mumbled, her cheeks blushing slightly.

“Come on, Spence. Even I’m not that stupid.” Glen caught his sister’s quirked eyebrow and backtracked. “Okay, maybe I am. But trust me on this one. You and Ashley; it’s meant to be.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s just… I’m just…” Spencer sighed again. “I’m scared, Glen. That’s the simple truth. I’m scared.”

“Hey, I told you to trust me.” Glen wrapped his arm around Spencer’s shoulders. “I won’t let you get hurt, baby sis.”

“I trust you.” Spencer smiled and rested her head on Glen’s shoulder, knowing she didn’t need to say anything else. She just enjoyed the comfortable silence, taking the time they had secured by hiding in the attic to daydream about a certain person.

“Spencer! Glen!” Paula’s piercing voice shouted from downstairs, her mom radar apparently in full effect today. “I know you’re up there. Get yourselves down here and help. These napkins won’t fold themselves!”

“I think it’s time we went and faced the music.” Glen laughed, holding out his arm to help his sister up.”

“Yeah, I think it is.” Spencer stood up and smiled back at her brother. “Thank you.”

“No worries.” Glen grinned, his boyish features lighting up. “All in a day’s work for your average big brother.”

-

Spencer sighed as she started her 32nd try at making the stupid paper towel into a stupid napkin swan. She was pretty sure that people would prefer napkin napkins, but she didn’t think that Paula would take too kindly to that suggestion. The last thing she needed right now was another lecture on the finer points of napkin-gami.

It could have been worse. Her dad and brother had been granted the unenviable task of adorning the window ledges with bunting, a job that apparently Glen could not manage without repeatedly stabbing himself in the fingers with drawing pins causing him to yelp quite amusingly at frequent intervals.

As for the blonde she-devil herself; well, she was doing something completely unfathomable involving a candelabra. At least I still have my crown. The sound of a car pulling up outside broke Spencer’s train of thought.

“Ooh, is that the delivery man with the stork ice sculpture?” Paula asked hopefully. Maybe this isn’t the best time to tell her the ice sculpture will probably be more of a pool of water sculpture by tomorrow afternoon.

“No, there’s definitely no ice…” Glen said from his position kneeling by the window ledge, now lifting himself onto his knees to get a clearer view through the netted curtains.

“Is it my industrial sized pans for the big chilli cook-off tomorrow?” Arthur asked excitedly, before scrambling to join Glen at the window.

“No, it looks like…” Glen started.

“The president of Japan to arrest me for crimes against origami?” Spencer asked hopefully.

“No, Cinders.” Glen turned to face his sister with a smile. “It’s Prince Charming.”

Spencer shared a quick look with her mother, before they simultaneously bolted towards the window to get a better view. The four Carlins crushed up together by the windowsill, crouching down and trying to look inconspicuous as they fought to peer outside. Spencer knelt on Glen’s shoulders in order to hoist herself higher and gain the best view.

“Ouch! Your kneecap is crushing my shoulder bone!” Glen complained.

“Shut up, Glen!” Spencer shouted. “What is she doing?”

“And more importantly, does she have a gift with her?” Paula asked excitedly.

“What?” Spencer looked at her mother in shock. “You know about the whole gift mystery?”

“Of course we know.” Paula said absently as she tried to move the nets slightly. Glen and Arthur nodded in agreement.

“We all know, Spence. You’ve never been one for keeping anything under wraps.” Arthur chuckled as Spencer began to protest. “Sssh! She’s by the mail box!”

“What’s she doing?!” Spencer yelped.

“She’s about to open it.” Arthur continued.

“Seriously, Spencer. My back is about to break.” Glen grumbled and started to try to shift slightly.

“Shut UP, Glen!” Paula shouted.

“Now what?” Spencer rushed as she tried to scramble closer to the window pane.

“I think she’s…”

Arthur’s words were cut off as Glen started to fall sideways, his shoulders giving up on trying to hold the weight of his sister. As a result, Spencer toppled up and over his prone form in almost comical slow motion and began to slide across the wooden floor. As she skidded slightly, she clipped Arthur’s legs, causing him to stumble into Paula, the two of them ending up as a collective parental heap by Glen.

Spencer continued to slide slightly on her side, finally coming to a sprawling stop just by the front door. The front door that had been left slightly ajar. The front door that was now being pushed open by…

“I’m used to ladies falling at my feet, but this is ridiculous.” Ashley said with a smirk as she looked down on Spencer sprawled on the hallway floor in front of her.

“Hilarious.” Spencer said with a serious expression as she grabbed hold of Ashley’s leg to help hoist herself back up into a standing position.

“Er, guys?” Ashley asked with a confused look as she took notice of the collective Carlin road kill strewn about the lounge.

“Oh, hi Ashley!” Paula chirped as she grabbed a nearby towel from the floor by the window. “I’m just getting the last, er, dust balls out from under the ledge!”

“Yes! And I’m…. holding the dust pan?” Arthur offered. Ashley frowned slightly and shifted her attention to Glen, who was still laying sprawled by the ledge.

“Um, my knee?” Glen said as he dramatically clutched his leg.

God, I hate my family. Spencer rolled her eyes and grabbed hold of Ashley’s arm, dragging her firmly away from the lunacy of Paula et al. They stopped when they reached the privacy of the kitchen and a not entirely comfortable silence fell between them.

“Um…” Ashley looked to the floor and scuffed her shoe against the lino. She fumbled with something in her jacket pocket. “This was…”

“Oh my god!” Spencer erupted as she spotted the object in Ashley’s hands. The same familiar wrapping paper on the small gift spoke volumes, igniting Spencer’s confusion and pent up anger even further. “You can’t keep messing with my head like this, Ashley. All this hiding stuff and buying me gifts…”

“Wait!” Ashley cut the blonde off. “I found this in your mailbox on the way in here.” The brunette looked down sadly. “It’s not me, Spence.”

“Oh.” Spencer flushed slightly, embarrassed at her slightly bipolar outburst.

“I always seem to disappoint you, Spencer.” Ashley said quietly as she looked at the floor. “I should go.”

“No, wait!” Spencer blocked the doorway as Ashley tried to move towards it. “Don’t go. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” Ashley replied. “It looks like we’re a sorry couple of losers.”

“True.” Spencer grinned slightly. “Do you think you have the time to waste talking to a loser like me for a while?”

“I think I could fit you in.” Ashley grinned back as they stood shyly smiling at each other in the kitchen.

“Ooh, Ashley!” Paula burst unceremoniously into the quiet room, confirming to Spencer that, indeed, nothing was sacred anymore. “Seeing as you’re here…” Spencer could see the task delegating cogs in her mother’s mind whirling into overdrive.

“Run, run whilst you can.” Spencer said, dramatically grabbing Ashley’s forearm. “Forget about me and save yourself.”

“Nah.” Ashley said as Paula began to lead her away towards some inane chore. “I’d rather take my chances and stick with you, kid.”

-

“You’re telling me that you’ve been doing this all day?” Ashley said in disbelief as she sat in the kitchen messily filling vol-au-vents with Spencer.

“I told you to escape whilst you still had the chance.” Spencer smiled back.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ashley said. “I thought you were just ignoring my calls.” She continued quietly.

“My mom took away my cell because she was convinced I was going to give away her secret puff pastry recipe.”

“Seriously? She’s getting crazier by the day.”

“I know. The scariest thing is; that will be me in 30 years time.”

“I think I can handle that.” Ashley smirked, as Spencer looked away shyly.

“So, what have you been up to all day that’s so more important than filling canapés?”

“It’s kind of a surprise. Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I promise.”

“Okay…” Ashley stood up and began to fumble with her shirt.

“Wait; is this the kind of surprise that involves you flashing me?”

“No, of course not.” Ashley rolled her eyes. “It’s not your birthday yet, Spence.” The brunette finally pulled out an envelope from her shirt pocket and proudly held it out to Spencer. “This is for you.”

“Oh.” Spencer stared at the card that Ashley had handed her in astonishment. “This is so…” She struggled to find the words to vocalise the wealth of emotion and true feeling that was currently rushing through her. “…awful.”

“Hey! It took me five hours to make that!” Ashley pouted as Spencer chuckled at the hand crafted “I’m Sorry” card the brunette had made for her.

“It’s very… special.”

“Look, just ignore the leopard skin fabric part. That was Kyla’s idea. I told her it sucked.” Ashley rolled her eyes as Spencer had an extremely sweet mental image of Ashley and Kyla huddled together gluing sequins onto card and deliberating the finer points of decoupage.

“I love it.” Spencer announced, earning her a toothy grin from the brunette. “It’s flawed but perfect.”

“Just like me, huh?”

“Something like that.” Spencer smiled lightly.

“So, do you think there’s a possibility that you could accept this shoddily made piece of craft as a huge apology for me acting like a complete ass yesterday and nearly stuffing things up between us?” Ashley questioned quietly.

“I don’t know, Ash.” Spencer shrugged, struggling to find the words as easily as she did in the attic. “It’s just… When you… When we… I…”

“I get it, Spence. Once bitten and twice shy, but…”

“God knows I’ve been bitten by you more times than I care to remember.” Is this the appropriate time for mild flirting?

“I’ll let you bite me if you think it would even the scores a little.”

“You wish.” Spencer smirked. “Besides, I’m not convinced that you’ve had your rabies shot.”

“Oh, trust me.” Ashley said with a wink. “I’m fully vaccinated.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“No, just you.” Ashley’s words elicited a small smile and adorable blush from the blonde. “Come on, Spence. We can’t let this go. Whatever ‘this’ is. This bond, or whatever what this feeling is, we can’t just cut it off here.”

“I don’t want to let it go, Ash.” Spencer whispered. “It’s just… I’m scared.”

“I know.” Ashley whispered back.

“And I’m supposed to be with Carmen.”

“I know.”

“And you’ve got Caroline.”

“I…” Ashley paused and gave Spencer a confused look. “I don’t have Caroline.”

“You don’t?” Spencer questioned, with a bizarre sense of relief easing the pressure on her shoulders.

“No, we’re just friends.” Ashley said sincerely. “You knew that, right?”

“Does this face look like the face of someone who knew that?”

“Um, whoops?” Ashley shrugged.

“This is going to be messy.” Spencer said with a sigh.

“Are we still talking about us or the prawns?”

“Shut up or I might change my mind on the whole forgiveness thing.”

“Okay, I’m shutting up. All we need now is a fresh start.”

“Another fresh start, you mean?”

“Alright, another fresh start then.” Ashley smiled. “This time maybe we should try to add a bit of distance to it.”

“That could work.” Spencer agreed. “Think you can keep yourself away from me?”

“Well, I have to see you tomorrow at the shower.”

“True.”

“I promise to stay out of your way.” Ashley grinned. “I’ll try to be inconspicuous.”

“Ashley Davies…” Spencer placed her pastry-floured hand onto the brunette’s cheek and stroked it slightly. “You could never fade into the background.” Ashley smiled broadly, crinkling her cheek under Spencer’s hand, causing the blonde to beam in return.

“Hey Ashley!” Paula burst to the kitchen yet again, this time clutching an old video tape found earlier in the attic. Maybe my mom and Kyla should hang out more; they have some scarily similar personality traits. “Do you want to see a video of Glen and Spencer doing a dance routine to ‘Opposites Attract’?”

“Actually I…” Ashley started with a grin.

“Ashley is leaving.” Spencer cut in.

“Aw, I am?”

“Yep.” Spencer smiled. “It’s the perfect time to try out that whole distance thing.”

-

“So, new start?” Spencer turned to brunette as they walked towards Ashley’s car on the driveway.

“New start.” Ashley agreed. “But different this time.”

“Completely different.” Spencer reaffirmed as they stopped walking by Ashley’s car. “Hi, I’m Aiden.” The blonde stuck out her hand with a wink.

“I’m Madison.” The brunette responded.

“Wanna watch me work out some time?”

“Only if you come and watch me cheer.”

“So… I heard you were the school slut.” Spencer smirked. “What you doing Friday night?”

“Okay, I’m not sure this entirely falls into the category of ‘distance’.” Ashley laughed.

“Alright, I’m sorry.” Spencer said. “The new start begins now.”

“Right, I think I better make tracks on putting some of that distance between us.” Ashley chuckled as she climbed into her car via the open top roof.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” Spencer shivered in the brisk wind.

“No.” Ashley answered. “I feel strangely warm inside.” Spencer grinned at the brunette and leaned over the car door, placing a light kiss on Ashley’s still smiling cheek. “Does this mean I win truth or dare now?” Ashley laughed.

“Ash…”

“Sorry, sorry. The new start begins from now.”

“You’re lucky I’m so forgiving.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Ashley winked as she started up the engine. “The truth is; there’s always going to be a new start for you and me, Spence.”

“You know what?” Spencer eyed the brunette for a moment. “I think you just might be right.”

Ashley shook her head with a laugh and began to drive away, waving back towards Spencer as she left the junction. Spencer turned on her heel and folded her arms across her chest as she dreamily wandered back towards the house. She looked up briefly on her journey and saw Glen watching from the front bedroom window.

Spencer was reminded of when she had first got together with Ashley and Glen had angrily slammed that very window when he saw them sitting in Ashley’s car below. She paused for a moment and tried to read his expression. Glen caught her eye and grinned back at her, giving her his seal of approval with a goofy thumbs up for posterity.

Chuckling to herself, Spencer remembered the gift she had earlier hastily stuffed in her back pocket. Reaching for the small package, she eyed it briefly and began to open it up. Inside was a small toy Porsche, shiny and new and surprisingly, with no backseat. She reminded herself to tell Madison that fact. This is totally the wrong time to be having that fantasy, Spencer.

#12. To help you plan our escape… Still smiling as she walked to the front door, Spencer was strangely no longer planning her escape. She pushed open the door and was met by her mom and dad standing nearby. They hastily took up the pretence of chores as she walked in, but she knew they had been watching too. Quickly kissing her dad on the cheek, she put her arm around Paula and pulled them both into a hug.

God, I love my family.