Chapter 1- "Run Baby Run" Garbage
It was a beautiful fall afternoon in Los Angeles, bright, sunny and about a hundred degrees out. The birds were singing, the grass was green and the girls on the USC campus were wearing less than usual, it was a good day.
Well a good day for most except for our dear Spencer. Spencer, also one of those sexy USC co-eds (sans the skimpy outfit), was rushing out of her dorm, down three flights of stairs and making a mad dash towards her Vespa®.
Her Tuesday was already a mess, her roommate Sally came home drunk at dawn and woke Spencer to tell her of her adventures at the local dive bar. Unfortunately, Spencer wasn't the kind of roommate to turn away blubbering drunks in their most desperate time. Even if their times of need tended to happen most Tuesday's at dawn after "Billy's Bar 'It's No Longer Monday Let's Celebrate' Happy Hour." No really there was a sign for it and everything. As a result of this drunken rant, Spencer woke up late and didn't have time to cram those fifteen minutes of EXTRA study time for her first exam of the year. Sure Spencer knew the course material really well and probably aced the test, but she was unsure of a few questions and that gave her a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Now, Spencer was racing down the road on Jefferson Blvd to solve yet another Tuesday afternoon crisis, except THIS crisis gave her even more heartburn than the test.
Fifteen minutes had passed since Spencer received a text from her BFF Ashley telling her: "It's over. Aiden and I broke up!" No sooner than she received the text, Spencer dialed #1 on her speed dial and was connected to her newly single best friend.
"Hey" the brunette answered.
"Hi" The blonde replied gently. "You Ok?"
"I'm fine" she sighed.
"Want me to come over?"
"Yes please." And with, that our little Spencer was out the door in mere seconds. To say that Spencer was a good friend was a colossal understatement.
Although little was actually said during that short phone call, Spencer knew her besty well and knew deep down inside she was devastated.
This wasn't the first time Ashley and her hunky man-toy had broken up, in fact they had probably broken up a total of a 300 times this year alone, sometimes twice in one day. THIS time though, Spencer knew it was different.
She knew it was different because 300 times before, when they had broken up or almost broken-up, Spencer was the first person Ashley would call as soon as it did or didn't happen. Spencer was always the voice of reason and logic in Ashley's insane illogical world and always dismissed her absurd reasons for breaking up with the boy and his large muscles. Whether it was Ashley ranting about how he almost burned down her super decked out loft because he borrowed her flat iron and forgot to turn it off or complaining because he listened to Fall Out Boy and left a Panic at The Disco! CD in her car, Spencer always talked her out of it. Instead, Spencer gave her logical solutions to Ashley's trite dilemmas:
"…It was only that ugly shirt that caught on fire… I bet his hair looked great though…" which made Ashley smirk.
"…Ash I know you're the all mighty when it comes to music, but" us" mere mortals can't compete with music royalty!" whichmade Ashley smile.
"Ash! As bad as Panic at the Disco is, you can't break up with someone over something as trivial as their bad taste in music… just throw the CD out the window!" which made Ashley laugh.
But this time Ashley hadn't called. She didn't even hint to Spencer that she was thinking about dumping the chest-model.
But why hadn't she said anything?
It's not like Ashley didn't have an opportunity to say something. They had been spending a lot of time together lately, more than usual. In the past week they had seen the latest Maggie Gyllenhaal flick; twice, had gone to go see Kelly Clarkson in concert; per Spencer's request, and went out for drinks in Silverlake. Everything was prefect in their 'super friends' bubble. Or so she thought.
As she made her way towards Downtown L.A. at an impressive speed even in her white and teal Vespa® (with matching helmet), Spencer couldn't help feeling confused, a feeling that frequented her mind only when it regarded her best friend.
Why hadn't she called?
Why didn't she tell me she was going to do it?
Spencer couldn't even fathom the possibility that Aiden would have broken up with her. It was impossible, as much as she kind-of liked the guy and appreciated his comic relief with his brainless thoughts; she knew Ashley was the one with the upper hand.
She knew her top friend was gorgeous, EVEN in the mornings when everyone else looked like hell, or when she was sick in bed, or kind of drunk. Although Spencer thought Ashley was the most beautiful when she was happy and smiling. Not only that, she was a talented musician with a bright future and a lot of money.
A lot of money.
She inherited 12 million dollars from her dad, which she invested and nearly doubled! Yes this girl had it all. No way that Captain Lame broke up with her!! She could buy six of him, better looking and with nicer hair!
But what if he had? What if for some strange reason beyond Spencer's imagination he had in fact broken her heart. Spencer felt a tight tug on her own chest as she pictured her closest companion alone in her loft with a broken heart.
As the though crept into Spencer's brain about her friend's solitude, she began to panic. She loved Ashley, but she knew her friend well and her friend loved drama. If Aiden had in fact broken her heart Ashley was not above anything, she was after all Ashley Davies: "Rocker Princes Extraordinaire" and her ego was her life support.
Spencer's brain started working over time, thinking of different scenarios in which she'd find her melodramatic other half. Spencer imagined walking into the loft, as Ashley is about to jump off her balcony, but rejected the thought because she knew Ashley was too vain to disfigure her gorgeous exterior. Then she thought that maybe Ashley would go the classic route and swallow a bunch of pills, but remembered that the only medication she had in her medicine cabinet were Flintstone's chewable vitamins, which Spencer had bought for her. Spencer smiled at her ridiculous thoughts, but hurried anyway. Between cars and straight through red lights, the small Vespa® had become a lean mean tiny speed machine.