A/N: Alright, so this is my first story on this FF account, but not my first story on in general, so I'm not as new to this as I probably seem. Even so, I have really absolutely no idea what I'm doing and just felt like writing a Spashley story. I don't know where this is going or what this is even about, I just thought of an opening to the story and started writing. So...no idea what's going to happen. But I'm a fast updater, so I expect this thing to start taking shape pretty fast. Also, if anyone has any suggestions for a good direction to take this story in, I'm open to them.
The title of this story has been taken from Owl City's The Saltwater Room. I don't own that song, or South of Nowhere.
"Mmm…" I hear the girl in front of me moan as I press my body more firmly against hers, curling the fingers that are buried deep inside of her. My thoughts are hazy and full of lust, but a small part of me is nagging at the back of my mind, telling me that I need to get out of this bathroom stall and go find Kyla before her drunk ass ends up passed out on the dance floor in the middle of the club. "Harder…"
I let out a breathy laugh next to her ear, but I think she is probably at least as drunk as Kyla is, if not more, and she doesn't even seem to hear me. She does react to me obliging her request, though, and as soon as I finish bringing her to her peak, I make my way out of the bathroom, straightening my clothes and hair after wiping my fingers off on my much-too-short skirt. Hey, whatever gets me one-night stands with girls like the one in that stall, right?
I have only done one shot and had one beer, which is very little for me, but I hadn't really expected anything different. As much I love to party, Kyla is wild enough that she could never be the designated driver. So that just leaves me, unless we bring Aiden along for the ride. Tonight, he isn't here. It's just me and my half-sister, partying it up like we do every free night we get.
From what I can tell, Kyla has gotten her party on plenty enough for one night, and is passed on a stool with her forehead pressed against the bar. I'm just thankful that it isn't the dance floor she's lying on.
"Kyla." I nudge her roughly, and she groans. "Kyla! C'mon, we're going."
"I'm nah ready…" she mumbles without sitting up.
"You look ready to me." My arms slip under her armpits, and I slide her off of her stool and hold her up, supporting her from behind. Even at eighteen years old, she still has no common sense when it comes to knowing when to stop drinking. Even I can tell when I'm borderline "too drunk to function".
It takes five minutes to get her to the passenger's seat of my car, and by the time I'm starting the vehicle itself, she is passed out again, drool trickling out of the corner of her mouth. I wrinkle my nose disgustedly, glancing down when my cell phone rings from my pocket.
"What do you want, Aiden?" I ask, my voice taking on a slightly whiny tone.
He laughs on the other end. "Just wondering if you two were home yet. Turns out my dad had to work late and had to cancel, so I'm free to come pick you two up if you need me."
"Thanks," I reply dryly, "but even if I was so drunk that I couldn't drive home, which I'm not, you would get here and we'd have to leave my car here because nobody would be here to drive it back home. And there's no way I'm leaving my brand new Porsche here overnight for someone to vandalize." I scoff. "Do you even think before you call me to have these conversations, Aiden?"
Aiden sounds a bit sheepish as he replies. "Sorry. I was just trying to be nice."
I sigh, unable to be mean to him when he uses that tone with me. "Yeah. I'm sorry too. It's just that Kyla snores when she's asleep and she's drooling all over the seat next to me, and…" I trail off with another sigh.
"One-night-stand not as satisfying tonight?" Aiden asks knowingly, and I glare at nothing in particular, hating that he knows me so well.
"It's only been recently that I've been feeling like this," I insist, but anything else I had been thinking about saying is suddenly impossible to recall. I am silent for a moment. "I just…I don't know. It's not enough anymore. Maybe I'm not gay after all."
Aiden lets out a laugh at that. "Don't be stupid. You're definitely into chicks. You're more into chicks than I am." I hear him clear his throat suddenly. "Don't tell anyone I said that."
"Okay, if I'm definitely gay, and definitely like having sex with girls, then explain why it's been almost a month and nobody I sleep with anymore feels as good as sleeping around used to feel."
"I don't know. Maybe you just haven't had a one-night-stand with the right girl yet."
Now it's my turn to laugh. "Great advice, Aiden. Sleep with a bunch more girls until you find the right one."
"Well, it's not like you'd listen to any other suggestions I might have."
I shrug to myself. "Yeah, you're probably right," I admit. "Anyway, it's late and we have school tomorrow, so I better get home and put Kyla to bed. I'll see you at school."
"You mean you're going tomorrow?" Aiden jokes, and I roll my eyes in response.
"Bye, Aiden." I lower the phone from my ear, hanging up and sticking it back into my pocket, then shift the car into drive and start forward just as Kyla lets out a particularly loud snore from beside me.
My name is Ashley Davies, and this is my life.
Kyla doesn't want to go to school the next day because of her killer hangover, and it's not like my mom is around to make her, considering we live alone in a house we bought with money from a rather large trust fund, so it looks like it's just Aiden and I today.
I say that because Kyla and Aiden are really my only two friends, unfortunately. Being a lesbian skank who hates the head cheerleader is a good way to ruin your high school image.
Aiden is in my grade, but we only see each other between classes and at lunch. I'm pretty sure he is slowly ruining his reputation by sitting with me every day at lunch, so it means a lot to me that he does. I would never tell him that, though.
Aiden and I used to date three years ago, back in freshman year. This was back when I was still confused about my sexuality and was still experimenting with both guys and girls. Now we're just the best of friends. Even today, I still tell people I'm not into labels, but I'm pretty sure I'm gay. I mean…yeah. All I have to do is take a look at one hot girl, and I know I'm gay. Definitely…completely…okay, who the hell is that?
"Ashley," Aiden says teasingly, snapping his fingers in front of my face, and I quickly move his hand out of the way without taking my eyes off the blonde across the lunchroom. "What are you staring at?"
"Her," I emphasize, gesturing to the girl. She is standing in line to get food, so all I can see is her back, but her perfectly straight blonde hair and her hot body are what catch my attention.
Aiden laughs for some reason. "That's Spencer Carlin, Ash. She's new today. But I doubt you're going to get her to sleep with you."
I give him my best "Are you kidding me?" look. Of course I'm going to sleep with her! I'm Ashley Davies. If I want to sleep with someone, I do, and absolutely nothing will stop me from sleeping with this-
Ah shit, she's sitting down at Madison's table. Game over. I have no chance.
"No," I tell myself quickly, inwardly, hoping to dissuade myself from giving up. Instead of staring at her body, I'm staring at her face now, and it is just as amazing as the rest of her. She has these bright blue eyes that twinkle when she laughs, which is what they are doing right now, and I can already imagine what they will look like darkening with arousal as she lies beneath me, squirming-
This is the point where I shift uncomfortably in my seat and cross my legs, quickly squashing that train of thought before I lose it in the middle of the lunchroom and…well, I don't know what I'd do if that happened. Probably kidnap the poor girl and drag her into a bathroom stall to have my way with her whether she liked it or not. "Spencer," I say carefully, testing the name out, and I finally tear my eyes away from her to look over at Aiden. "Isn't that a guy's name?"
Aiden shrugs. "I don't know. Guess not."
"Hmm." I put my elbow on the table and my hand on my chin, trying to seem nonchalant. "I'm going to sleep with her," I say calmly, and I can feel the truth in my words as they roll off of my tongue. I can feel it. I am going to have sex with this girl.
"I hear she's straight."
"Has that ever stopped me before?" I point out.
"She's also a cheerleader."
I wrinkle my nose with disgust. "Already? I thought it was her first day."
"Apparently her family moved here last week, and she and Madison met over the weekend. She's only just now enrolling in our school, but by the time she started today, she and Madison already knew each other. I guess she must cheerlead, and Madison thought she was good enough."
I sigh. "Stupid Kyla. I knew we shouldn't have spent all day Saturday at the mall. Maybe if we'd gone somewhere else, I could've gotten to this chick before Madison did." I wave his earlier comment away with my hand. "Oh, well. I don't care that she's a cheerleader. She's got a hot body and a cute face, and I'm already incredibly sexy, therefore once she is drunk enough, I will look like a goddess to her and there is nothing to stop me from taking advantage."
Aiden raises an eyebrow at me. "You're going to jail one of these days, you know."
I merely scoff, rolling my eyes and then focusing them in on Spencer. And when I do…she is staring back at me.
I can feel the electricity when our eyes meet. Seriously. The way this girl is staring at me, I can tell she's into me. And I am definitely into her, even though she's probably more of a bitchy cheerleader type like Madison.
Speaking of Madison, I have just realized why Spencer is staring at me. It's because Madison is, too, and her lips are moving fast next to Spencer's ear. Planting the seeds with practically every bad thing she knows about me. Fuck. Maybe Spencer's not into me, after all.
I force a smile and wave (like that's actually going to make her forget everything Madison is telling her), and she raises an eyebrow slightly, like she is not expecting for me to have noticed her. Of course I noticed her. She is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.
Okay, when did I become such a sap?
Madison catches me watching them, and stops talking for a moment. We exchange brief glares, and then she smugly whispers something else into Spencer's ear. My eyes watch Madison's lips and I watch them form the word "slut".
Yeah, like she has any room to talk.
"She's ruining my chances," I growl to nobody in particular, but Aiden answers.
"Spilling your whole life story to Spencer?" he guesses, his eyes following mine to Madison and Spencer, and I nod my head angrily. "Well, that's Madison for you."
Aiden and Madison used to date, too, after I told him I was into girls and we broke up. I broke up with him, not the other way around. He was actually okay with me liking girls, and still is. Especially since when we go clubbing and he can watch me make out with them on the dance floor. He won't admit it but I know that's why he goes with Kyla and me to all of those clubs. He did break up with Madison, though, and now she hates him, which also makes it easier for him to sit with me every day. His reputation is already considerably trashed.
The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and I jump up quickly to go put my tray up, letting myself be jostled by the group of people all trying to rid themselves of their tray. Aiden will go onto class, as I know from experience, so I am alone to hang out by myself until my next class starts. It's my least favorite, too. Contemporary Literature, meet Boring as Hell. Oh, you two already know each other?
I don't usually go to my locker before this class, because I never do my work in there anyway and don't need to get a notebook or textbook out, but I decide to try and pay attention today to try and take my mind off of Spencer. See? She's already a good influence on me, making me do my schoolwork and all. We're perfect for each other. I'd probably even have sex with her more than once, and that's saying something, coming from me.
I have just gotten my locker open when I notice that Spencer's locker is just a few down from mine. She's four, maybe five lockers away, and she is not with Madison, thankfully. Nobody else is really close by, so the silence is kind of awkward since it is just the two of us. As she is closing her locker and preparing to go to her next class, I pluck up my courage and plant my feet in front of her, holding out my hand.
"Hi, I'm Dashley." I wince. "Davies. I mean, Ashley. Ashley Davies." Wow, what the hell was that? Way to fuck up your introduction, idiot.
She raises an eyebrow at me, and I don't blame her for thinking I'm weird, but she takes my hand anyway and shakes it. Tingles shoot up my arm and I nearly jump, and I could swear that for a fleeting moment I saw her look just as surprised as I did.
"Spencer Carlin," she nearly stutters, and she is so incredibly adorable that I want to kiss her right then and there. But I won't. And I have to let go of her hand. Mine feels cold and empty as soon as I do. "…I've heard a lot about you," she finally says, and if she is trying to make casual conversation, that's a funny way of doing it. Must be the cheer-bitch side of her kicking in.
"All bad, I'm guessing?" I reply, having had time to regain my cool, and now I'm more relaxed than she is. No more stuttering or messing up my name.
She nods, biting her lip, and my eyes are immediately drawn to the action. Her eyes flicker up to mine, and a part of me tells me to look away from her lips as she silently assesses where I'm looking. Her cheeks pink and she quickly stammers out, "U-Um, I have to go to my next class, so…I'll s-see you later."
My heart sinks as I realize I have successfully scared her off. Of course Madison has told her I'm gay. I'm probably lucky Spencer even talked to me in the first place.
When I get to class, I am surprised to see Spencer standing at the front, talking with my teacher about something, and my eyes are practically glued to her as I walk to my seat, sitting down and putting my Contemporary Lit book on my desk. My teacher, Mrs. Yorke, actually interrupts her own conversation with Spencer to look over at me.
"Ashley Davies, I'm appalled. You've decided to bring your book today!"
Hate the class. Love the teacher.
I give her a thumbs up while Spencer spins around, looking shocked to see me in here. "You know me, Mrs. Yorke. Always dedicated to my studies." I wonder if Spencer can hear the sarcasm.
Like school actually even matters to me, anyway. I have millions of dollars in the bank. I only agreed to stay in school because Kyla said she was going to, and I couldn't just ditch Aiden, considering I'm his only real friend except for Kyla.
Mrs. Yorke smiles at me, then turns back to Spencer, muttering something else, and then abruptly addresses the whole class with Spencer at the front of the room. "Alright, everyone, calm down, stop talking. This is Spencer Carlin. She's a new student." Someone wolf-whistles and I look around for the perpetrator. Spencer is mine. Nobody else gets to whistle at her but me. Spencer blushes like crazy and I suddenly can't stop thinking about how much I would love to make her blush like that. I am slowly getting the impression that she's the kind of girl who would blush if someone talked dirty to her. Which I'm good at doing. "She's going to be in this class with us for the rest of the year."
Hell yes. Please tell me I did not just imagine that. And that I'm not imagining the fact that the only empty seat in the classroom is the one right next to me.
"Okay, Spencer, before you go sit down, why don't you tell us something about yourself? We all did this at the beginning of the year."
She's right. We did. I told them that I can lick my elbow. Then they all tried to do it. My Contemporary Lit class doesn't exactly contain the brightest crayons in the box.
"Um…" She struggles for a moment, then takes the easy way out. "I'm a cheerleader."
Ugh. I wanted to know something big. Or something that would help me figure out a way to get her naked and beneath me. Preferably on a bed. Or I guess against a wall is okay, too, but for some reason I don't want my first time with Spencer to be like that. A bed would be better. The second time can be against a wall.
Look at me, getting all ahead of myself. I still have to have a real conversation with her.
Spencer takes the seat next to me, avoiding my eyes as Mrs. Yorke hands her a textbook.
"Alright, class, open your books to page 72 and read from there to page 84, then do questions 1-5 on page 85," she instructs when she is up in front of the class again. "And after that, I want a paragraph on what you think the theme of the story is."
This is our class's cue to groan, but Spencer simply opens her book and gets to work without a single complaint. Apparently, she's a good student. Whatever. She clearly doesn't belong in here, but I don't want her switching out.
Feeling bold, and a little blunt, I take out a sheet of notebook paper and make my intentions known, writing a note and folding it up and tossing it over to her when our teacher isn't looking.
She looks up from her textbook and raises an eyebrow at me again, and I motion for her to open it, just in case she has forgotten what to do with notes people pass you. She rolls her eyes, but follows my instructions, scoffing quietly when she sees my message. Her reply is on my desk a second later.
Are you gay? is my question.
No. is her response.
I write back, and so does she. Eventually, ten minutes have passed with us just passing notes, and our first real conversation is documented on paper for me to read. I scan the rest of our note, absentmindedly contrasting our handwriting. Spencer's is neater.
Wow, you're smart.
Madison hates you.
I've noticed. Thanks for pointing it out.
She says you're a slut and that you got pregnant even though you're gay, and then you got an abortion. And now you're on drugs and you're an alcoholic.
She's full of shit.
I figured. Nobody can be that bad. But how much of it is true?
Well…I'm not into labels, as far as sexual orientation goes.
What's that mean?
What's what mean?
Yeah. What do you mean by that? Are you…okay with it?
It's fine. Just stop staring at me like I'm a piece of meat. It's flattering and all, but uncomfortable for me.
Whatever. Anyway, I did get pregnant, but I didn't get an abortion. My best guy friend and I were dating at the time, and we were going to keep it, but I had a miscarriage.
Yeah. I was only fifteen, though, so I wasn't ready to have a kid anyway. And I'm not on drugs, at all. I'm also not an alcoholic, but I drink sometimes, just like everyone else does.
That's good to know. That you aren't a druggie, I mean.
Wanna be friends?
You know. Me and you. Friends.
Friends, you dork. You know, like what you are when you aren't fucking but you aren't strangers either?
Madison would kill me.
No, she wouldn't. She's secretly terrified of me. That's why she spreads the Ashley hatred around the school. It's her defense. Fight the power, Spence.
Ever heard of nicknames?
Sorry. My family usually calls me that.
Maybe I'll be a part of your family soon ;)
Was that sarcastic? It's hard to tell on paper.
Yes. It was.
I have to do my work now.
Nonsense. I never do my work.
Some of us have squads we have to get good grades to stay on.
Pssh. I would get good grades if it meant I got to stay off the cheerleading squad. But fine. Here's my cell number. Text me so I have yours.
I grin as my phone buzzes with a text message, easily smothering the noise, then opening the phone.
I've never had a gay friend before.
I have a feeling I am going to like this girl for more than her body.