FIC: Don't Kid Yourself... (Ashley/Spencer; Gen; 365)

Mar 31, 2006 09:59

Title: Don't Kid Yourself...
Author: sugarmomma
Word Count: 365
Rating: Curses!
Pairing: Just Ashley Scheming...
Summary: For Challenge 3: cinnamon, late, palm. (Also, I blame Tinuviel from the Spashley Forum for asking me how I'd rationalize Ashley seeking out Spence at the gym in the first episode...)

~~~



She's late. She's always fucking late, and if she doesn't hustle to Mr. P's class, it'll be detention again. And not only did the day already majorly suck with faux-dad #4 going off about her tattoo, the idiot boy at the coffee shop messed up her drink for the second day in a row now. Vanilla latte, not cinnamon latte - those words are as different as they could possibly be, and yet - somehow - she ended up with a fucking cinnamon latte, again. She hates cinnamon. She hates the idiot coffee boy, she hates this school, and the fucking locker that won't open and the people that stare-

"You want something?"

Okay, so the blonde is pretty, but she's already late for the class and - and now her books are all over the floor and - perfect - so is her coffee. Fuck it all.

***

She sees the pretty blonde again during lunch, sitting next to a dorky black kid, both of them with lost puppy dog looks on their faces. Ashley palms her sunglasses, and strolls through the courtyard, drawn by the memory of that angry early morning interaction, the flash of those eyes, that face, picks a table directly behind them.

She leans back on her elbows, puts her sunglasses on, tilts her head backwards, feels the wisps of her hair brush the back of her arms. She looks like she's sunning, but beneath the tinted lenses her eyes are trained on the new girl - Ashley would have remembered seeing her at King before - and the headphones in her ears are silent. She can hear them discussing classes, getting lost, dinner plans. The dorky kid is staying in school later, at the library, and the girl, she will be at the gym after classes, waiting for her ride.

She smiles. She stretches, straightens up, saunters off.

The blonde is all corn-bred American innocence, and that wide-eyed look would give Ashley pause, make her doubt, make her think twice if - and here she smiles again - if her gaydar hadn't proven over years to be completely, utterly fail-proof.

Gym, then, after classes.

~~~

fic-south of nowhere

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