Do you remember the first time you had an encounter with your true love? The first real encounter? When you were in the middle of conversation and suddenly you felt a connection that you never had before and you wished that the moment would never end? And then you couldn't sleep at night, because you were recalling her smile, her small gestures towards you, and analyzing every detail that caused you to get the warm feeling in your heart? And then you began to wonder: Did she feel the same way? Did she get the warm feeling too? Was she thinking about you, as much as you were thinking about her? Maybe it was all just your wild imagination and it meant nothing to her? There were thousands of thoughts like these, running through your head, both positive and negative, all mixing together to create a huge mess. You were very conflicted. And somewhere in the middle of this huge battle, you ended up just drifting off to sleep. And you dreamed about her because she was the only one you could think about from that moment on.
But maybe you weren't the romantic type and love was the last thing on your mind. Then you were just like Toby Cavanaugh. Life had effectively convinced him that such a thing does not exist.. His mother had died and the whole town hated him because of a murder that he didn't commit. He couldn't leave his house or even go to school. Sometimes he had no motivation to even get out of bed in the morning.
The day he had met her had seemed ordinary. He was sitting in the living room, looking at all the things he would have to learn in order to catch up with his peers. He stood up and went to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich. When he was in the hall, he heard a sudden knocking on the door. Curious, he walked over the front door. He opened it almost immediately, well as far as the mounted chain allowed him. To his surprise, behind the door stood Spencer Hastings, a friend of the girl who he had allegedly killed. She was wearing a black coat, her backpack hanging over her right shoulder. Toby could see that she wasn't very comfortable.
"Hi. I noticed this was on the ground as I was walking up." She handed him some letters and mail. He took them and assumed it was all she had to say, so he started to close the door in her face.
"Wait!" He heard her soft voice call and he stopped. "I'm here to tutor you".
He hadn't expected her to say that, so he gave her a slightly surprised look and wondered if he had heard her right.
"Someone from school called you, didn't they? "
He closed the door in one smooth move, but then he reopened it instantly, with no chain this time. Spencer was just looking up at him, not saying a word.
"Why you?"
"Because I'm in AP French… and I volunteered." She replied. As they were gazing at each other, Toby was trying to guess what was on her mind. When he didn't say anything, she spoke up.
"I have all of your assignments together and I worked out a schedule for the rest of the semester. If we meet three times a week….." She began to speak, but was suddenly interrupted. There was a loud noise coming from behind him. He thought that it was Jenna, so he came outside and closed the door. He didn't want his stepsister to eavesdrop on them.
"You can't come in. Jenna's home." He said quickly, waiting for her reaction.
"Oh, is there somewhere else we can go?" She offered. He still didn't know what she was trying to accomplish.
"I, I can't go somewhere else." He pointed to the electric device attached to his leg, hoping that it would drive her away. But unfortunately for him, Spencer didn't give up so easily.
"Then will Jenna mind if we just sit on the porch?"
Toby noticed that she was choosing words carefully. He shrugged, leaving the decision to Spencer, who took it as a yes and sat down on the steps. Moments later he joined her and an awkward silence fell between them as they sat down, looking at the ground. Toby suddenly realized that she was the first person that was talking to him in a long time, voluntarily or not. It was something he wasn't used to and he didn't know how to react.
"I brought you something." She reached into her backpack and took something out, but he couldn't see what. She handed a small book to him and he looked down at it.
He read the title aloud, "L'attrape-coeurs." A delicate smile formed on Spencer's face.
"The Heartcatcher?" He asked and for a brief moment their eyes met with each other. But they both quickly looked away, flustered.
"Catcher in the Rye." She corrected him. "There's no literal translation, but I thought it would be better if you read something you already know in English."
He considered her words, somewhat curious how Spencer Hastings knew something about him.
"How do you know I've read it?"
"I saw you once, at the Apple Rose Grill. You were reading it." She looked straight ahead, not meeting his eyes.
Toby decided that it was finally the time to play with open cards. He wanted to know the real reason why she was there.
"Why are you here?"
She sighed loudly and began looking for something in her bag. "Miss Carrey wants you to revise the conditional tense…" She began but got quickly interrupted.
"What do you want?" The question was easy and direct. With a tiny hint of hostility.
"What makes you feel that I want something?" She said, but she didn't answer. He could see that she was slightly nervous and uneasy.
"Because you never do anything without a reason." He stated. They both were looking each other directly in the eyes, intensely. In fact, so intensely, that it could've resembled a small confrontation.
"Did Emily tell you that?" She asked after a while.
"Nobody had to tell me that."
Spencer didn't reply for a while. She took a deep breath and finally got to the heart of the matter.
"I think somebody might be framing you." She lowered her voice, because she noticed the opened window. She didn't want anybody else to hear what she was saying.
Those words caught him off guard. He was not expecting that at all. Maybe there was someone who would finally be on his side, someone who could help him prove his innocence. He thought, getting eager. But he immediately stopped and scolded himself. He couldn't give in to sudden optimism. Not when his name was Toby Cavanaugh. He had to be a realist and practical.
"What changed your mind?" He asked, curious. He had to know.
"I think someone might be trying to do the same thing to me. It might even be the same person."
He got mad at her for a second. Of course she only cared because it involved her. She just wanted to protect herself. She didn't care about him.
"And how does that feel?" He asked uneasily.
"Not good." She looked down. "Scary."
In that moment his anger evaporated. If she wanted to help him, it didn't matter what had brought her there. He even began feeling bad for her. He could handle the accusations; he was used to getting dirty looks. But she, the one who was always praised and respected, might crack more easily. She might not be able to take it. And he began to think that he hadn't really appreciated her as much as he should have…. After a while, he spoke up.
"Why would somebody go after you?" He pressed further, curious to know. "What makes you so important?"
"I don't know." Spencer answered, lost in thought. He studied her and knew that she was telling the truth. It must have taken her a lot of strength to come to see him and talk to him about this. Especially considering his past and history.
"Maybe you know something you're not supposed to know?" He questioned.
"Every time she began softly " For what I said and thought about you"
He was really taken aback. He realized how hard it must have been for her to admit being wrong. From what he'd heard, she had to always be right.
He didn't know what to say to her. So he didn't say anything.
Spencer leaned forward and quietly asked about the night of Ali's disappearance. She's interrupted by the loud sound coming from the window. He assumed it was Jenna spying on him, so he decided to end the conversation.
"I need to go. Thanks for the book" he quickly stood up and moved towards door. Taking the last glance at her face, he thought that she was a bit disappointed that their talk had to end. Or he just imagined it. He entered the house and went straight to his room to avoid bumping into Jenna.
And laying down, he didn't analyzed every little thing, didn't think about feelings, emotions. When he finished reading the book, he turned off the light and rested his head on the pillow. He closed his eyes and fell asleep almost instantly. He didn't have a dream. He hadn't had any dream in a long time. Even though after meeting her he didn't experienced everything so intense, it didn't mean that nothing happened. Maybe in that moment a ray of hope entered his life and love will follow shortly.