Ugly : clifford a.u

Michael

I avoided Spencer for one week.

Seven days.

One hundred and sixty-eight hours.

Ten thousand and eighty minutes.

Six hundred and four thousand and eight hundred seconds, before I came to conclusion that I was beginning to go slightly mad without her presence.

The way she smelled like flowers, the soft touch of her warm hand, the sound of her laugh, the addicting musical like  tone of her voice. Everything about her, I missed.

And so, I called her.

She ignored me twice, however on the third time gave in, undoubtedly figuring I was in some state of dire peril.

“Hello?” she sighed.

“Hi!” I greeted, “Spencer.”

“What do you want?” she mumbled.

“I miss you.” I replied, “Horribly.”

“I missed you too.” She sighed, “Then I got over it, give it a few days.”

And then, she hung up.

Admittedly it could have gone better, however filled with renown figure after having heard the voice I had feared I would never hear again, I formulated a plan.

Which mainly just involved me calling Emily’s former best friend Lyra and pleading for a ride claiming it was an emergency. I would have asked my Mom but she was at work.

Lyra arrived after what felt like an eternity later.

I hadn’t seen Lyra in at least a year, not many people had. After Emily died she just sort of disappeared, she quit her job, dropped out of college and moved back in with her parents. I still sent her Christmas and Birthday cards to which she never replied, however I knew she lived in Gut Ditch, how could she not.

The ride to Spencer’s was more or less silent, and incredibly awkward.

I made attempts at starting conversation but was met with muttered replies followed by more uneasy silence so eventually I gave up.

By the time we finally arrived at Spencer’s house and Lyra mumbled almost inaudibly that we were there, I nearly hung myself with the seatbelt as I hastily leapt from the car.

Clutching Lyra’s lead tightly in one hand and a bouquet of flowers I’d plucked from my neighbor’s yard in the other, I made my way up the gravel driveway, up the front steps to the front door.

I then stood there trying to calm my breathing before reaching out a tentative fist and knocking three times lightly enough so that no one would inside would fear they were about to have the door kicked in by a Swat team, yet harder than the polite casual knock of a girl scout or door to door missionary.  

Almost immediately the door was thrown open infront of, giving reason to believe that my presence had been well before my knock. Hoping whoever it wasn’t hadn’t been staring at me while I stood on their porch trying to collect myself, I smiled nervously.

“Hi.”

“What?” Luke’s voice spat.

“Luke!” a voice I strongly believed belonged to Calum, hissed, “Ease up man, he’s blind.”

“So?”

“So, you can’t be mean to blind people? right?”

“Yeah blind.” I chuckled awkwardly, “Not deaf, I can hear you talking about me. I’m right here.”

“Oh, uh, sorry.” Luke muttered, “Um, what are you doing here?”

I figured it probably wasn’t the time for a sarcastic, witty remark about how I was selling Thin Mints, and so I refrained.

“I’m here to talk to Spencer.”

“How do you know Spencer wants to talk to you?” Luke scoffed.

“Does she not?” I questioned slowly.

“No.” Luke spat, “She’s been upset all week after you and your Mom kicked her out of your house.”

“I didn’t kick her out!” I cried.

“You didn’t really roll out the metaphorical welcome mat.” Calum muttered.

“It’s not even her fault!” I retorted, “If anything it’s yours!”

“Mine?” Calum questioned, “What the heck did I do?”

“Not you.” I sighed, “Luke.”

“My fault?” Luke laughed, “How is you being an ass hole my fault!”

“Hey!” Spencer’s Heaven sent voice interrupted, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Luke said quickly.

“Spencer!” I cried.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“I need to talk to you!” I said quickly, “I brought you flowers.”

Thrusting the flowers in her general direction, I felt her take them.

“I’m sorry.” I sighed, “I was rude to you and I shouldn’t have been.”

“I didn’t even do anything.” She mumbled.

“I know.” I muttered, “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” she questioned, “We were fine I mean… I kissed you and then… that. Was it the kiss?”

“No!” I cried.

“Was it something I said?”

“No…well yes… technically yes, but no.”

“That doesn’t even make since.” Luke scoffed.

“Can we talk in private?” I questioned.

Sighing, Spencer stepped out onto the porch next to me and closed the door behind her.

“What?” she demanded, “Make this quick, “I’m toasting a bagel and I don’t want to burn it.”

“Luke’s accident.” I said bluntly, “Did you know it was his fault?”

“No.” she mumbled, “I don’t see why that’s relevant it was two years ago.”

“Did you know he was drunk?”

“What? No. No he wasn’t, he wouldn’t.”

“He was. Did you know?”

“N-no I…. they didn’t tell me.”

“Did you know that he killed two people that night?”

“No I…”

“Well he did. Your brother murdered my sister.”