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    Chances – (Chapter: A New Day)

    Story written on January 16, 2009 by little_tiny23.
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    Genre(s): N/A
    Rating: N/A
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    Number of Comments: 1
    Words: 3993
    Story Shortlink: https://lf.beardesk.com/?p=20006
    Author Notes:

    Ashley Davies and her mother have a few secrets causing them to move from town to town. Have they finally found a place to stay?

    "No you won’t." Our heads snap to the entryway of the kitchen. "I’m making breakfast burritos." My mother states proudly, leaning against the wall with a smile.

    "Uh, mom? How long ya been standing there… watching us… like a creepy stalker?" She ignores my question and looks at Spencer.

    "Rachel Ray only shows recipes and how to make them. I’m the one who showed Ashley here her techniques." Well that answered my question. Spencer immediately starts to blush. "Oh don’t be embarrassed. It’s perfectly natural for couples to kiss." I throw my hands in the air and walk into the kitchen.

    "You’ve been watching ‘American Pie’ again, haven’t you mom." I state washing my hands.

    "It’s such a funny movie. Could you imagine having a parent like that?" They both walk into the kitchen and Spencer comes to stand with me at the sink.

    "No need for imagination on that one." I mutter rolling my eyes. Spencer giggles as I start to grab ingredients for the burritos.

    "You’re such a comedian Ash."

    "I know." I smile and walk toward the knives.

    "Don’t forget conceited." Spencer chips in. My mom nods in agreement. I grab my favorite knife and start to twirl it. Spencer stares wide eyed at the knife in my hand before meeting my eyes. I send a wink her way as she looks on amazed.

    "Ash stop showing off." I flip the knife into the air and skillfully catch it by the blade twirling it around my hand once more for good measure.

    "You taught her that?" Spencer asks my mom.

    "Of course not." I snicker. "Mom could never do that."

    "No, but I was the one bandaging your hands when a trick went wrong." She points out. Spencer grabs my hands and starts to inspect them. Her soft hands lightly trace the scars on my hands.

    "I never noticed these before." She whispers quietly, keeping her gaze on my hands.

    "You cannot see what you do not look for." I whisper just as quietly. I don’t blame her for not noticing. It’s not like they’re big gaping scars all over my arms. Just a couple barely there stabs and some cuts you wouldn’t notice with a quick look. Her fingers lightly trace the one scar clearly visible to the untrained eye on my wrist.

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