Spencer woke up to the noise of her phone proudly blaring out her favorite song of the week, Finger Eleven’s Paralyzer. Groggily, she reached over and blindly searched for the offending item, cursing internally.

“Hello?” she mumbled, then winced as her best friend screamed into the phone.

“Spence, it’s like, the first day of school and for some reason, my car refuses to start! Say you’ll come over and pick me up, pretty please?” Sara whined.

Spencer frowned. “Sara, it’s only six in the morning. Our classes don’t start till eight thirty. Why are you calling me now?”

“Because silly, I know how long it takes for you to get out of bed and make yourself presentable. And plus, we’ve got to get to school early. David came home early this morning and he’s going early as well so that we can catch up. And you know you want to see him too, so stop complaining and get your butt out of bed.”

Spencer groaned, but she knew Sara wouldn’t stop bugging her until she got her way. “You’re such a bitch sometimes, Sara.”

“I know, but that’s why you love me,” Sara giggled. “I’ll see you in thirty.”

Spencer kicked her blankets off and stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. “You look like hell,” she mumbled to her reflection. Of course she didn’t. Spending most of her summer at the beach has given Spencer a nice, all-round tan and waitressing part-time has effectively helped her keep her body in shape. Spencer snorted at her ridiculous bed-head before scrambling to get herself “presentable” for school.

Spencer ran her fingers through her hair, trying to untangle her long blonde hair when her head throbbed. Spencer paused. Why was her head hurting? The previous night’s events rushed back to her. Ashley! Spencer immediately felt bad. She had been a complete asshole to the other girl, throwing herself at her even after being turned down twice in the space on an hour.

“You should apologize,” Spencer muttered to herself as she brushed her teeth methodically. “But how am I even supposed to find a particular hot girl in LA? The whole damn city is filled with them. And for that, I am thankful,” Spencer smirked at her reflection. “You’re a slut, Spencer. Thanks, you too. Urgh. I have to stop talking to myself.”