As Kristal gathers up her papers, she searches the room, apparently looking for something she lost. “Has anyone seen my—“ she motions with her hands, pretending to write.

I tap my ear, and she follows suit, confused until she feels her pen resting behind her ear. “Oh!” she exclaims. “Haha.”

What a scatterbrain, I laugh inwardly. Then, I turn to Ashley. “Hon, are you sure you want someone who’s so disorganized to represent you? Why did you ask her to defend you anyway?” My words are quiet enough to seem secretive, but loud enough so that Kristal can hear.

“Spencer!” Ashley gasps, slightly scolding me for my rudeness. “Kristal has been nothing but a good friend to me for over—“

“No, Ashley, it’s okay. I’ll explain. You see, Ashley and I went to college together, but we had known each other for years before that. While Ashley majored in fine arts and music, I chose to major in law. Even though I got a perfect score on the BAR exam, I mostly do volunteer work now, although I’m not shy of a courtroom. After a few trials, I decided the law thing wasn’t for me, so now I travel outside of the country to help orphans in war torn countries. The organization I work with gives the children food, shelter, and teaches them how to read and write in their native language, as well as English.”

“Wow,” Ashley marvels, clearly in awe of her work.

“Just a saint,” I mutter sarcastically. Don’t get me wrong. I’m gracious that she’s helping Ashley and everything, and it’s great that she works for all those noble causes, but I see right through her phoniness. She seems like one of those people who constantly plot and scheme. I have a good idea what her ulterior motive is, too.

Ashley gets up and heads to the kitchen. “Did you need anything else, Kris?” Ashley asks, waiting for further instructions.

“Nah, I’m going to get going.”

By this time, Ash has her head buried in the refrigerator. “Spence, can you let her out for me?”

“Gladly,” I mumble, following her to the door.

“Bye, Ash!” Kristal calls sweetly from the door. There is a faint reply from upstairs. Kristal’s plastered smile fades when she looks back to me, and is quickly replaced with a scowl. “I hope you know I’m not doing any of this for you,” she snarls.