"Oh Spencer!" I involuntarily moaned (more like screamed) as our lovemaking finally came to an end.
Spencer collapsed onto the seat in the locker room shower. "You might want to keep it down next time, or someone's going to know we're not the Janitors." He told me, smiling like he always did after we fucked. Maybe it was from the sounds I made, the way I called out his name or even the way I looked. All I know was he was about the smuggest boy in the entire school.
"Good; let's get caught." I smiled back as I shut off the water to the shower.
"Why? Like the thrill of someone watching?" he asked, now drying himself off.
"Maybe." If we got caught, then everyone would know that Brooke and Spence were officially done.
So far these past two weeks, Brooke did nothing but bitch Spencer out every time they were alone together, which isn't as bad as you'd think. It meant not only more aggressive sex for me, but more time with him and our friends without her butting in. And where would my manners be if I didn't thank the Internship Opportunities Program for taking up the rest of her time?
By now, Spencer was fully dressed.
"Yeah, Spence?" I answered, slipping on the last of my outfit.
"Are you really okay with this? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love what we have…but…wouldn't you want to be in a relationship?"
I was genuinely surprised by his answer, which is why I had answered honestly.
"Of course I would! I've only had one boyfriend; it just so happens that the guy I want is already taken." I winked, trying to make this conversation lighter. I had done everything to avoid this particular subject, mainly because I was terrified of the potential rejection. I wasn't sure how I'd act or feel if Spencer wanted to end this.
"You've only have one boyfriend? Seriously? Are you scared of commitment or something?" He frowned.
"Or something." I cringed. I really didn't want to talk about this, especially not after what we just did.
Sensing I was uncomfortable, he quickly responded with, "Amy. I guess what I really mean… what I've really wanted to ask is…why haven't you asked me to break up with Brooke?"
"Why would I do that?"
"Well, most girls would be jealous. I figured you'd just want her out of the picture."
"But I do, Spence. And I am jealous; extremely jealous actually. I really like you, Spencer. You're an awesome guy, like the-most-popular-guy-in-the-whole-school-kinda-awe some. You'd really think I'd jeopardize something like that over my feelings?"
That got him quiet. He couldn't say a single thing back.
As I walked over to the bathroom sink to adjust my makeup, Spencer sat on the empty bench, watching me. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking. Was he considering breaking up with Brooke for me? Did he just want to use what he could of me, and stay with Brooke to keep up appearances?
I was starting to make myself sick with both guilt and worry. I had to remind myself that what we had was supposed to be this way. Keep quiet, be secretive and most of all, don't expect a relationship. I knew if I didn't chant this private mantra, I would surely lose my cool, which would most definitely mean losing Spencer too.
After washing my hands, I grabbed a small bottle of body spray out of my messenger bag and gave myself a couple spritzes. I pulled out two pieces of gum, giving one to Spencer in the process, and popped it into my mouth.
"So I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked, looking up at him.
"I'll see you tomorrow." He replied as we both embraced and exited through separate doors of the locker room.
The school bell sounded, bringing the lunch period to an end which now meant I had dance class.
Once I began my actual classes, I'd regretted it instantly. It wasn't the routines, my partners or Ms. Leahner; it was Erika. She'd been an extremely sore loser and continued to take it out on me. I guess I couldn't completely hate her though. If someone prettier, thinner and more talented than me showed up out of nowhere and took my spot, I'd be pretty pissed too.
But enough was enough.
When she began whispering threats to me during class, mainly about how she didn't like how close I was getting towards Spencer, I snapped. Before she even had a chance to tell me she was going to tattle to Brooke, I said, "Erika! It's bad enough you got beat by me; quit making it justifiable to everyone else."
It was then that the petty girl glanced around the room and noticed everyone's dirty stares.
For the most part, Erika had left me alone, though she'd still give me envious glances. But those were easily ignored. Especially today, with Spencer's questions still buzzing through my mind.
The days' class had gone rather smoothly, considering my partners were slow to learn our routine. Honestly, I was surprised that dancing had come to me so easily, that it was almost irritating when others couldn't follow me up. But maybe I was getting a little ahead of myself; didn't wanna jinx my good luck streak.
I said my goodbyes to my classmates and began my walk home from school.
Start bugging Dad to take you to the DMV. I told myself as my feet ached mercilessly in my UGG boots. It wasn't so much the walking that hurt as it was the constant strain my feet were under because of dance.
Before I could even get past the parking lot, I nearly had a heart attack at one of the most blood curdling screams I've ever heard. My heart attack nearly double when I turned to see Spencer nervously looking around, as he tried to console Brooke. I mean the girl was literally broken down, on the ground behaving like a spoiled toddler.
Instantly, I hid behind a nearby wall, intent on hearing exactly what was causing such a scene. Had he broken up with her? Had Spencer exploited my current position? Did someone just die?
"Brooke, stop that. I'm sorry. I really am, but I think we should end it. I mean, when do we even see each other anymore?"
The girl continued to sob angrily and pointed an accusing finger up at him. "It's that new girl, Amy, isn't it?! The one you wouldn't stop staring at when I was explaining my latest Internship opportunity!"
I only half smiled, knowing Spencer had actually thought about this potential scenario these past weeks and had decided to finally go through with it. But then she added something that made me have to question who Spencer might actually be.
"That's how it's always going to be, isn't it Spencer? Make the girl feel like she's stolen you heart, and then dump them when you're bored and something prettier comes along. Does she even know how we met, Spence?" She yelled, now getting to her feet and shoved him back. "Screw you Spence. I bet you've already been fucking her, haven't you? Well you know what, I hope she enjoys every minute of it, because then she's gonna know how I feel sooner than she thinks." Brooke finished as she gave him one good, hard slap across the face and stormed over to her car.
Least I be discovered and potentially run over, I high-tailed it in the opposite direction, not stopping until I was almost home.
Once I had (safely) made it home, I retreated to my room, kicked off my boots, threw off my jacket and fell stomach first onto the bed. After all this newly learned information, I was pretty worn out. I was tired of thinking; tired of dysfunctional relationships; tired in general.
As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out.
And you know, I had the strangest dream.
I was in a beautifully sleek muscle car, some old school Dodge, and I was sitting in the passenger seat. AC/DC's 'Shoot to Thrill' is blasting on the speakers, while Spencer drove down a large stretch of desert highway at an intense speed. As I looked at his gorgeous face, he turns and smiles at me, puts the car into the next gear and continues his increasing speed. We are the only ones on the road that I can see, until we come up on a rather frail looking woman, smoking a cigarette and sitting in a ratty looking wicker rocking chair, with a sign in her lap. I can't see her face clearly as we zoom past her at breaking speed, but her sign is as clear as day; "Don't let any boys, substances or life get to you…"
I almost cried, knowing that it was my Mother we'd just passed and she looked close to death.
As if sensing my glum state, Spencer reached back behind his seat for something.
"Relax, babe. Want a little something to take the edge off?" He asks, now pulling out a half-finished bottle of rum. I'd never drank in my life, but for some odd reason, I'd taken the bottle and knocked back several large gulps before whipping off my lips with the back of my hand. Spencer grabbed the bottle from me and did the same. As he does, we fly past a hidden Highway Patrol officer and instantly are in the middle of a high speed chase.
My heart is hammering in my chest, knowing that something bad is about to happen and there isn't anything I can do about it. But somehow, after Spencer had put the car into its highest gear, the HP is out of sight.
"That was a rush! Ready for an even better one?" He smirks.
But before I can protest, he hands me what I can only assume is a crack pipe, and my body responds against my will. I'm in my body, but it is the one in control as my hands light the bottom making the rock in the middle, sizzle and bubble. Trying desperately to get back in control, I scream for my body to throw it out the window, which causes my hands to hesitate just before the pipe touches my lips.
This causes Spencer to give me a disapproving look. "Oh come on. Don't tell me you're worried you can't stop. Please, I've been on and off plenty of times. Trust me." He assures me with that irresistible smile of his and once again my body overtakes my mind and I inhale from the pipe.
I know I can't see my face, but if I could, I'd know there'd be tears, because on the inside I know what he said isn't true. I don't know how, but I do.
Now we're coming up on a cross road. I hear Spencer curse under his breath, as he looks back in the rear view mirror. Now I'm the one to swear, because I can hear the distant police sirens getting closer and when I look back there are at least fifteen squad cars gaining on us. When I turn back, Spencer is no longer behind the wheel; in fact, he's not even in the car!
In a panic, I grab the wheel and try to steer from the passenger seat, but am failing miserably. The car begins swerving violently as I try to maneuver into the driver's seat, but there are so many things in the way of the seat. Bags upon bags of drugs, and not just one kind, cover it. There is everything from weed to ecstasy to cocaine and everything in between. There are empty booze containers littered around the pedals making it difficult to get my high-heeled foot on the brake. And money. There is so much money everywhere, I'm not sure I could count it all, even if I wasn't in a fish-tailing metal death trap.
But, as I am finally able to fully grab the wheel and hastily bat the bottles, drugs and cash out of the way to sit and brake, the pedal does not work. I am already way over a hundred miles an hour and the crossroad is coming up fast. Better yet the cops are on my ass and if I don't move fast, they're going to pit maneuver me.
I try swerving the car to avoid the officers from hitting me, but I have been dinged several times. Then, with final hit to the right fender, my car spins out of control before I can correct it. It instantly flips over and is now in a deadly spiral.
Before I can feel the impact of my untimely death, I am startled awake by a loud, familiar thwack sound and I instantly wake up.
I quickly glance at the clock, my head and heart still beating unnaturally, and realize that Dad had just gotten home.
"Amy, I thought you were taking care of dinner tonight?" He calls out from his study.
"Sorry, Dad." I call back. "I'm not feeling well today. I think I might be getting a visit from Aunt Flow soon." I add, knowing he'd drop the subject with mention of my female curse. "I think I'm just going to shower and go to bed."
At this, he doesn't respond. The only thing that lets me know he's even heard me is the sound of the freezer door opening and closing, a package being torn, and the beeping of the microwave buttons.
Glad to know you want me to feel better…jackass. I think bitterly, as I start a hot shower and gather my sleeping clothes. But in the shower, my dream torments me. I can't stop thinking about it; I can't help but feel it's a warning, but for what? I can only hope it doesn't have to do with the drugs, alcohol and money.
The shower didn't help as much as I wished it did, so I end up taking some of Dad's sleeping pills and attempt to go back to sleep.
And the scariest part of that dream? Well…it wasn't just a dream as much as a premonition. My own subconscious had known what I was getting into, but my heart didn't have a clue. When Spencer had broken up with Brooke, I expected to finally be in a happy, loving relationship, with someone who was finally going to show me the affection I deserved. But I would be sadly mistaken…