As a loud ‘Oomph’ echoed throughout the room, a piece of stray clothing flew out of the closet and onto the bed, quickly followed by a blonde hair, blue eyed girl. Spencer was almost done packing, she only had the bathroom left, but folding her clothes into Banana Republic-perfect squares was the last thing on her mind. Her suitcases mirrored her head at the moment: disheveled, messy, all over the place. Every piece of fabric or toiletry that found its way from its previous home to flying across the room into whatever luggage was nearest was Spencer’s passive aggressive way of get her anger and frustration out.

But who exactly was she mad at?

It would be easy to say Ashley. The girl who, without a second thought stole her heart and held onto it with some sort of death grip. The girl who pushed her away and pulled her forward so many times she lost count. The girl who couldn’t choose between her boyfriend and her…whatever Spencer was.

But Ashley was also the girl who bought her an Amish doll. She was the girl who trusted her enough to explain her past, something Aiden didn’t even know. She was the girl who soaked her oversized t-shirt with tears at 1:16 a.m. the night before. She was the girl who wanted kids. She was the girl.

It would also be easy to name Aiden, he was the main obstacle standing between her and Ashley, but if anything he was the most innocent out of the three. Oblivious to what the girls had been up to, he had mentioned on more than one occasion how glad he was that the two had become friends. She felt worse for him than she did Patrick; at least Patrick didn’t blind himself to what was going on.

No, the truth is that Spencer was mad at herself. There’s a reason why she had built up a wall made of Armani power suits and pent house suites around herself; those things, tangible, material, replaceable, couldn’t hurt her. But she had let her guard down. She met a brown haired girl who crinkled her nose when she laughed and whose eyes seemed to go on forever, and that wall was blown away.