Hey all,

so this update is a little shorter than the others...but based on all the feedback I'm getting (which is totally awesome), it seems like people would prefer more frequent updates rather than longer updates. So here's the latest-- I promise to keep up the pace as best I can! :)

Thanks for reading,

--JW

Sunset

Chapter 3

By JewWitch

When Spencer woke up, for a moment her mind was completely blank. She didn’t remember the van rushing toward her across the ice, or Ashley, or even being in Forks. A dull, throbbing pain pulsed behind her eyes, and she felt a little queasy. There were footsteps and voices nearby, and in her hazy state, Spencer wondered why all these people were in her bedroom.

“Get out of my room, Glen,” She mumbled sleepily.

“We’re not in your room, Spencer.” The low, musical voice that answered was not Glen’s, and as soon as she heard it, all Spencer’s memories came flooding back in one elastic second.

“Oh,” she gasped, opening her eyes and sitting bolt upright in bed. The harsh, fluorescent lights stabbed at her eyes, and she put her hand to her head as she looked quickly around. She was in a white hospital bed, with a white curtain drawn around it for privacy; just beyond were the bustling sounds of doctors and nurses that she’d thought were invading her bedroom a moment ago. A quick glance down at herself confirmed that she was basically okay; all her limbs were accounted for, and there was no sign of blood, thank goodness. Then she looked up at the source of the hypnotic voice she’d heard, knowing what she’d find without quite being able to believe it: Ashley Davies was sitting beside her bed in a hard plastic hospital chair, looking perfectly peaceful for the first time since Spencer had laid eyes on her.

“So who’s Glen? Your boyfriend?”

“Ugh, don’t say that when I’m already nauseous,” Spencer snorted, causing an extra throb across her temple. “He’s my asshole brother.”

“Oh,” Ashley said simply, and Spencer wondered whether she was just imagining the faint smirk on the other girl’s pale face. “How do you feel?” The dark-haired girl asked gently. Still woozy, Spencer barely managed to bite back the first words that sprang to the tip of her tongue—Fine, as long as you’re here.

“I’m okay,” she murmured, which, all things considered, was mostly true.

“Boy, are you a crappy liar,” Ashley chuckled, and this time Spencer didn’t have to guess whether or not the other girl was smiling—her grin was big enough to crinkle the bridge of her nose, which sent a small flock of butterflies directly to Spencer’s queasy stomach.

“I didn’t say I was perfect,” she grumbled crossly.

“Does your head hurt?” Ashley asked gently.

“Uh-huh,” Spencer sighed. “But it’s better than being splattered on the pavement…”

“Shh, don’t think about that,” Ashley murmured, and suddenly her cool hand was pressed lightly to Spencer’s forehead. Immediately, the pain receded to a faint whisper. “Better?”

“Yeah…that feels good. Your hands are cold.”

“I have bad circulation,” Ashley said dryly, with another smirk that Spencer didn’t understand. “So, do you remember anything?”

“What, like do I remember seeing you stop a speeding car with your bare hand?” Spencer smirked this time, regretting it a moment later when Ashley sat back and took her hand away, and the pain flooded back into her aching head.

“That’s not what happened, Spencer.” Her voice was perfectly calm and cool; but her eyes studied the blonde girl’s anxiously.

“Please don’t patronize me,” Spencer replied softly, staring back into the twin pools of amber that she knew had been a different color the last time she’d seen them. “I’m not going to tell anyone, okay? You won’t end up on Oprah or anything. Just be straight with me. How did you stop the car? Are you…I don’t know…the bionic woman or something?” Ashley chuckled a little, and the sound calmed Spencer’s queasy stomach somehow.

“I’m not a superhero, Spencer. You don’t want lies? Fine. But I can’t tell you the truth, either, so I’d suggest you just forget about it and be happy you’re alive.”

“I am happy I’m alive. I mean…thank you for saving my life.”

“No problemo.” They held each other’s eyes in silence for a moment. Spencer could feel her heart rate picking up, and it made her head throb harder. She wished Ashley would put her hand back on her forehead.

“Listen,” she said slowly, mustering up all her nerve. “If there’s ever anything I can ever do to pay you back…”

“Spencer!” Her father’s panicked voice shouted from just outside the curtain, the sound of his heavy footsteps slapping frantically on the linoleum. Dammit.

“I’m here, Dad,” she called, and immediately the curtain was ripped back to reveal her father’s face, filled with worry. As annoyed as she felt at his poor timing, Spencer realized she was glad to see him. “Hi,” she said sheepishly, giving him a little wave.

“Oh, Jesus, Spencer. Are you all right?” He swooped down and hugged her tightly; she could feel him shaking.

“I’m fine, Dad, I promise. I’m okay…” He pulled back and examined her face, looking skeptical.

“I’d rather hear that from the doctor, Spence. I’m going to go find him, okay? Then we can get you home.” He kissed her forehead, then, standing up, seemed to notice Ashley for the first time.

“Oh, right, sorry. Dad, this is Ashley Davies. She just saved my life.”

“It really wasn’t”—Ashley started to say, and Spencer could see the panic flash into her eyes.

“It was a big deal, Ash. If you hadn’t knocked me out of the way, I’d be hamburger helper right now.” The dark-haired girl glanced quickly back into her blue eyes; and Spencer gave her a little wink. They smiled at each other.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ashley,” Arthur said earnestly, wringing her hand in both of his. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.” Ashley glanced back and forth between the two of them, looking shy for the first time.

“I…um…I’ll go get my dad to come talk to you,” she said finally, jumping up from her chair and darting around the curtain. Spencer just looked at the spot where she’d disappeared, and sighed. Arthur glanced down at her speculatively.

“I thought you said you made friends with the other Davies girl,” he said curiously.

“I did,” Spencer said absently, still staring at the place where Ashley wasn’t. “I only talked to Ashley once…and I thought she hated me.”

“Nobody could ever hate you, baby,” Arthur shook his head, squeezing her shoulder lightly.

“Mom hates me,” she said dully, finally looking away from the curtain and closing her eyes.

“Spence…” but before Arthur could offer his daughter any more words of comfort, the curtain opened again, and a shockingly young and handsome man in a white doctor’s coat walked in, his eyes the exact same molten-amber shade as Ashley’s. Spencer wondered if they’d been a different color a few days ago, too.

“Miss Carlin, it’s good to see you awake. I’m Dr. Davies.” He reached out for Spencer’s hand, and she shook it, noting that it was just as cool and smooth as Ashley’s; like fresh sheets on a hot summer’s night. “Chief Carlin,” he nodded to Spencer’s dad.

“Is Spencer all right?” Arthur asked immediately. “Can I take her home?”

“Well the MRI came back clean, but you were out for a while, Spencer. It’s most likely a mild concussion, but I’d like to examine you again now that you’re awake. May I?”

“Sure,” Spencer shrugged, disappointed that Ashley hadn’t come back. She lay still while he checked her vitals and shined a bright light in each of her eyes.

“Any nausea?”

“A little,” she admitted, hoping he wouldn’t say she had to stay in the hospital overnight.

“Headache?”

“It’s not that bad,” she said reluctantly.

“Hmm. Any ringing in your ears?”

“No,” she said firmly.

“Blurred vision? Memory loss?”

“Definitely not.” She smirked slightly, thinking about what Ashley wanted her to forget. Dr. Davies nodded, and made a few notes on his clipboard.

“All right, Spencer, I think your dad can take you home now. Tylenol for the pain, and I want to see you back here if you’re not feeling better in a couple of days. You were very lucky today—most pedestrians don’t walk away from a car crash.”

“Lucky Ashley was there,” Spencer replied. “She saved my life.”

“Yes, so I heard. She has…excellent reflexes.” He knows, Spencer thought instantly. She wasn’t sure what there was to know, still; but she was sure that Ashley’s dad was in on it, one way or another.

“Thank you, Dr. Davies. Thank you so much,” Arthur said fervently, wringing his hand again.

“Just doing my job, Chief,” the doctor nodded. “Make sure she takes it easy for a few days.” Arthur nodded. Once the doctor had slipped out, he sat on the edge of Spencer’s bed and gave her leg a squeeze.

“So, kid, what do you say to one of our famous horror-fests? I’ll make zombie-chili and graveyard cupcakes…unless you’re too grown-up for that now.” Spencer grinned reluctantly, still disappointed that she wasn’t going to see Ashley again before she left the hospital. But the memory of one of her favorite childhood activities with her dad made it impossible to stay that way.

“Well, it’s been a long time since we did that stuff…I think I need to try it all again to know whether I’m too grown-up.”

“You got it, kiddo. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”