Hey! This is a new story. I hope you guys like it. So, enjoy :) And let me know what you think, about the story, or about anything else.
I do not own South of Nowhere. Unfortunately.

Picture this:

You're alone. You're sitting in an airport, watching the people walk by. Watching the couples walk by. Watching the mothers and daughters and sons walk by. Watching the friends walk by. They're all going somewhere, obviously. Of perhaps, not obviously. Because you're not going anywhere.

Are you?

You're never going anywhere. You're sitting. And you're thinking. Or maybe you're not thinking. maybe you just like to be alone with your thoughts. Alone, in a crowded international airport with hundreds, thousands, of people that you do not know. People you will never, ever know.

Do you care?

No, not really. You don't need to actually know people to know people. It's called judging. And we all do it so don't act like we don't. Don't put on that high and mighty façade that says you actually accept all people. Because you know you don't. That's all bullshit.

Sometimes, you think about just hopping a plane to somewhere. Because who would know you're gone? Or more importantly, who would care? A plane to Mexico maybe. No. A plane to Canada maybe. No. A plane to Italy maybe. Maybe. A plane to New Zealand maybe. Maybe.

Maybe you're being melodramatic. There are people who would know you were gone and miss you. That's just selfish.

Picture this:

You're sitting in your kitchen in your very small, white house with the front porch. Your mother is blabbering on about something, something probably about how much you suck. And to be fair, you do kind of suck. You can't help but notice that the wallpaper is white with small yellow daisies on it. You feel your mother might need an upgrade from the Brady Bunch theme you've got going on.

You pick at your short nails because listening to her talk on and on is like being hit in the head with a baseball bat. Being hit by surprise. It just comes from nowhere. You put your hood of the sweatshirt you're wearing up and around her head to block your ears from the insistent drabble going on around you. You zipper it up and pull the strings. --

"Spencer." My mother says. "Would you please come out of there."

I huff like a small child and push my head through the small hole. I make my mind try not to think about how that sounded like giving birth. Giving birth always scared me. Since when was it alright to have a small little person come out of you. It's like Alien. I mean, where's Sigourney Weaver when you need her?

"Are you even listening to me?" She asks me as she absentmindedly stuffs a saltshaker into her oversized purse.

"Yes." I lie just like every other time. "You were saying…"

"Right." She shakes her head. "I'm having someone come over to watch Harley after school."

I give my mother a blank stare. "I'll be home."

My mother just looks at me with clear blue eyes, like my own. It's a look of pity, almost. "You can't be trusted."

"Mom." I deadpan.

"Spence, would you trust you?" It's a rhetorical question, one I am not supposed to answer. And why would I answer? "I just think this girl would be better for him."

"What, me and Noel had a fun time with him." I counter her.

There's that look again. "You fell asleep and Noel taught him the word bitchassness. I don't think so."

"Mom, I'm twenty years old, I think I can handle him."

"Spencer." My mother glares hard at me. "You're seventeen."

I roll my eyes and take a bite of a very stale bagel. Then I spit it out into a napkin. My mother just watches me. "Sorry Paula." I mumble as I get up to throw the napkin and bagel into the garbage.

"You shouldn't wear so much eyeliner." My mother tells me as she gives my forehead a kiss goodbye.

Just as I am about to reply with Well you shouldn't have such a large stick up your ass, Harley comes barreling down the stairs. His blonde hair sticking up all over the place and I think his shirt is on backwards.

"Come on Har, time for school." My mother says to him, trying to flatten out his unruly hair. Sometimes it's so blonde I think he's albino. So do other people.

"I'm catching a ride with Noel."

"Spencer's boyfriend." Harley adds with a titled head and an evil smile.

"No." I say sternly. "Not Spencer's boyfriend. Do you want him to be your boyfriend, Harley?" I spit out, grabbing my bag and walking towards the door.

"Ew, no!" I hear my younger brother exclaim as I slam the back door behind me. I would place a large bet on the fact that Harley has a gigantic boy crush on Noel. The reason I fell asleep babysitting him is because he wouldn't leave Noel's side. Why should I do something when I am being ignored?

A lot of the time, I feel like school is just a river. And all the students are salmon. Just swimming upstream and then BAM a bear comes and rips some of our fucking heads off. So the rest of us splash around and try to escape, except we're heading up river against the current so it's hard. Some of us get pulled back down stream. And then that sucks for those ones. All the other salmon make fun of them. Some of the salmon keep going up stream and then they get A's on tests.

The bear has the ability to be anything. It could be a teacher or a principal. But those options are boring and cliché. The bear could be a friend that back-stabs you. But that's common. The bear could be someone who breaks your heart. That's mushy and more romantic than things need to be. The bear might be that moment when you're in the middle of an exam and the one pen you have runs out of ink. Because that is just a total bummer.

Are you getting this?

There are many times when I'm in school and I think about just leaving. And doing that whole plane thing I was so emotionally explaining before. It would be great.

But Noel drove me to school so I can't do that today. Another day, another excuse.


Noel puts his Jeep in park out front of my house. It's green and I hate green cars. I don't think cars should be made in a green color. Maybe only for like, camaflouge or something.

"Thanks for the ride." I say as I gather my bag at the bottom of my feet.

"Yeah, no problem Spence." He says with a grin and leans over to give me a kiss on the cheek.

I scoff heavily. "Noel, please." I say in a bored voice.

He rolls his eyes and puts his hands back on the steering wheel. Good, where they belong. "Sorry. So who's chillin' with Harley boy."

"Well, since you taught him the word bitchassness, which Paula was not happy about by the way, she got some other girl."

Noel snickers at the mention of the word btichassness, his slightly shaggy brown hair flopping on front of his eyes.

"Yeah, funny." I say dryly as I get out of the car and close the door. I lean against the open window.

"Who is it? Oh, I bet it's that new girl."

"We don't have a new girl Noel."

He nods. "I know, but Cam told me they have some new girl over at East."

"That's a great story. See ya later." I mumble as I head towards the door of my house. I hear Noel yell out Call me later! right before I hear his noisy Jeep speed down the street. I see that the paint to the back door is chipping off white and I momentarily think I should give it a new paint job.

The girl who is standing over my kitchen sink turns to look at me as soon as I walk through the door. Her eyes are kind of wide and there's a sponge and a dish in her hand.

"So I'm hoping you're watching Harley, or else I'd like you to please leave my house." I tell her as I set down my bag on the counter.

"Uh." She looks at me. "Yeah, no, I am."

I shrug and open to fridge, looking for that poptart I put in last night. I don't think many people really know how good poptarts are when they're cold.

"Um, are you Spencer?" The girl asks me as she leaves the dishes in the sink for a minute.

"No, I'm actually Lil' Wayne." I shrug. "You know, I wrote that song about the candy."

The girl, who I am now noticing has very curly chestnut colored hair, almost looking reddish in the light, blushes slightly. "I'm sorry. I just, um, your mom." She stutters. "I was just expecting a guy, is all."

I roll my eyes. "Sorry to disappoint you."

She takes a step towards me and waves her hands in the air in front of her. "No, you didn't. No. Yeah."

I'm confused by her rambling so I just turn to walk away from her. I turn around right before leaving the room and let my eyes look at her. She's cute. "Let's just make this one thing clear. You're here to watch Harley. Not me. I'm twenty and don't need a babysitter."

"Oh, yeah. I get it. Your mom, she said you were my age, seventeen, I didn't-"

I cut off this brunettes' mindless rambling once again. "Twenty, seventeen. Orange, Pale orange. Whatever."

The girl just nods with a strange half-smile on her face.

"Ashley!" Harley screams as he whips himself around the corner and into the kitchen.

I scoff. "I'm your sister Spencer." I pronounce my name for him and then I even spell it out. My brother is so stupid sometimes. As his sister, I would like to at least be acknowledged by my real name.

"No, Ashley." Harley gives me a glare and points to the curly haired girl.

"Oh." I say quietly as I look at her. Funny, in my strange conversation with the girl I never asked her name, but then again she never said it. She seems kind of…shy. Not that I don't like shy people. No. I just don't like people who my mother obviously likes better than me. There are many things that fulfill that position, actually. Harley. This Ashley girl. The bagger at the grocery store. A small squirrel. The Home Shopping Network.

"Is bitchassness Noel coming over." Harley asks to no one in particular. Well, I guess he's asking me since he's looking right at me. I snicker at the use of his word but Ashley looks a little confused.

"Not today, Har." I tell him. The look of disappointment on his face is almost really cute. It was like that time I told him that I was sorry, but the dinosaurs are, in fact, all dead. "Well, this has been lovely." I say as I roll my eyes. Then I make my way up to my room as I hear Harley asking the Ashley girl a million and one questions.

I take a deep breathe as I close my door, and finally find some peace and quiet. Sometimes I take a nap after school. Because sometimes I have nothing better to do. And sometimes I like being asleep better than being awake.

Today, I take the small black box that is under my bed and place it on top. With trembling hands, I open it and look at all of the stuff inside. I feel my eyes prick with some kind of weird salty water and I do not like it. Just as I am about to pick up a picture my door bursts open.

"Your brother has a new girlfriend, and to be frank Spencer, I kind of think that she's a bit old for him."

I laugh lightly at my friend's comment.

"Funny, Fora. It's his new babysitter person."

"Oh, so I guess Paula didn't enjoy the bitchassness incident." She says seriously, taking a seat on my desk chair. I put the box back under my bed and I know Fora sees it. She says nothing.

"Not particularly. Although she still loves Noel even though he's the one who taught him that."

"Well, your mother has a cougar crush on Noel. It's obvious."


Fora twirls a piece of her straight black hair around her finger while popping her gum. I know it's Bazooka from years of experience. It would be annoying to anyone else, but I am used to it. I see the dyed blue pieces of hair in the back of her head and it reminds me of when I helped her do that. My sink was blue for a week and well, my mother was not happy.

Fora is the kind of girl that you yell at to shut the hell up in the movie theater. She's the kind of girl that the elderly curse at because she ran over their mailbox with her car. Fora is the kind of girl that your parents don't really like too much, the kind of girl that is a bad influence.

And she is all of those things.

"So who's the girl." Fora says, picking at her chipped lime green painted nails.

"Ashley or something. Har seems to like her."

"Harley's bi. He has a super large crush on Noel too. And now this girl. Maybe it's just babysitters."

"You babysitted him once, and he didn't like you."

Fora glances to meet my eyes and rolls her own. "Thanks. Maybe he liked me secretly."

"You dropped him on the floor." I tell her seriously, leaning back on my bed. "I think he's scared of you."

"Whatever. I have to get on his good graces though. I think he'll be hot when he's older."

"You're an idiot." I tell her.

Fora shrugs. "It's true. Something about you Carlins and your blonde hair and blue eyes. It's very appealing."


"Hey, so you think that Ashley chick will bake us cookies?"

Fora also has a very short attention span.

"She's not a personal chef."

"But she's like, a nanny. That's what they do, bake things and clean things, and do arts and crafts with you. Like making those things our of popsicle sticks."


"Where's Harley?" I ask the Ashley girl when Fora and I get downstairs. Her insistence on some kind of treat or pastry had her pulling me out of my room.

Ashley the babysitter girl is still in the kitchen and it looks like she is making Harley a snack.

"Oh, he's playing video games." She meets my eyes for a second and then looks away.

"So Ashley, honey, do you bake?" Fora asks the unlucky Ashley and I feel kind of bad for a minute before I laugh.

"Uh what?" Ashley says, turning around to face Fora who is sitting on a stool at the island.

"Cookies, cakes, you know, pastries."

Ashley looks confused.

"Fora stop it." I tell her roughly. "Let's just go somewhere."

"Oh!" She jumps up excitedly. "Can we go to that bakery on the street next to the street with the Pet Grooming place? I love their pound cake."

"Sure, whatever, let me get my bag."

Fora jumps up around like a small five year old girl who was just given a unicorn for her birthday. As I make my way up the stairs, I hear Ashley and Fora talking for a second.

"Um, what's with her?" Ashley asks nervously. Probably wanting to know why I'm such an insensitive douchebag. I don't blame her.

"Long story." Fora tells her.