-:-
{romeo and juliet, reinvented}
-:-romeo and juliet, reinvented-:-
-:-
"These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die like fire and powder, which, as they kiss, consume." –Romeo and Juliet, Act II, Scene IV
-:-
I couldn't stop thinking about him.
It had been a month-thirty mind-numbingly painful days, all gone in a blur-since my friends and I had been caught, courtesy of A, with the shovel; arrested; forced to do community service; and basically been ripped to shreds by everyone in Rosewood. (If they thought we were liars before, I'm sure they wanted to put forth a 'Girl Who Cried Killer' smoke signal or something now.) Apparently, they couldn't formally charge us with anything, so it was probation and highway-trash-duty and a ten-o'clock curfew, which my parents were annoyingly on top of.
But more important than any of that was the fact that it had been a month since I had been forced by A to break up with Toby. A month that I couldn't call myself "Toby Cavanaugh's girlfriend", a month since I'd touched him, looked into his blue eyes, heard him say my name. And it hurt, God, it hurt like hell.
A…A was smart, as much as I hated to admit it. A had set us up, so we just happened to be caught with the stupid shovel. A had made the anonymous tip to the Rosewood PD, had made us complete those tasks to save a life that was never in danger. A had framed Ian, made the hockey stick look like the murder weapon. A had ruined all of us. So, all in all, I had broken Toby's heart for absolutely no reason. But every morning, like clockwork, there was a new text in my inbox:
Remember, keep Toby safe. –A
Well, they didn't have anything to worry about. Those three words were pretty much engraved in my brain. Keep Toby safe. Keep Toby safe.
Keep Toby safe. I thought about the high-pitched sound of A's creepy Chuckie doll's voice: keep Toby safe. And I knew, deep in my heart, that I had to keep him safe, even if we couldn't be together. He deserved better, and couldn't take the consequences for my actions. Not anymore.
"We happened to you, Toby."
When I'd said that-it had only been two months ago, even if it felt like way, way longer-I'd meant it. He hadn't asked for any of this, and yet, it was there, and I had no choice; I had to live with it.
"I feel like we always have a choice."
As I thought about it, now, when so much had happened since the day he'd said it, I realized he was right. And I wished wholeheartedly, that I hadn't just left him without one last kiss; with a confusing, stumbling resignation; without telling him I loved him. Because I did. I loved Toby Cavanaugh with every fiber of my being. And A knew that. Cunning, vicious A had stolen from me the one thing I cared about so much it hurt. A stabbing, merciless pain, regret, fear, anger, guilt, and sorrow. Nothing could ever fill the void, the gaping hole embedded in my chest. I wished I could've told him that if I could've, I would've chosen him, again and again, over and over.
"I don't care about what you can't tell me; I care about you. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you! Spencer!"
Standing there, at the police station, in my wrinkled, muddy dress, with the cop, I'd been torn. A part of me desperately wanted to run to him, let him hold me, kiss him, look up into his eyes and cry and tell him it was a mistake and that I loved him. But another part heard A's unspoken threat loud and clear, and screamed at me to keep walking and never look back.
It was that part that won.
It was one of the most heartbreaking decisions of my life, and now, I thought, if I could go back, I would. But it was too late now.
"Spencer…it's never going to happen."
It was Romeo and Juliet all over again, I mused. Same whirlwind-y, star-crossed love; same tragic, unplanned ending. And no matter what I did, I couldn't change what I had done to get here.
A tear involuntarily trickled down my cheek, and I impatiently swiped it away. This had been happening a lot lately. Without me even realizing it, I'd just start crying uncontrollably, inconsolable. But the only person who could console me probably hated my guts and would never want to even look at me again.
I had been sitting in my car for the past twenty minutes, parked in front of the Cavanaughs' house, just for the hell of it. I really was crazy, stalking my ex-boyfriend, or maybe I enjoyed making myself cry. Whatever the reason, I was just sitting there.
A regular rebel without a cause, I thought wryly. In my mind's eye, I saw Toby smirk and felt my stomach drop about a foot lower, because I'd never see that smirk again. Ever.
The thought brought a wave of fresh tears to my eyes. They dripped down my waxy cheeks, silvery shining rivers in the soft twilight. My eyes burned, but it was dull compared to the stabbing pain in my heart that had been there since the second I ran out of that truck. Since the second I had made the worst decision of my life.
Suddenly, the passenger seat door was yanked open and somebody slid into my car. In the darkness, I couldn't make out who it was.
Oh my God. I was alone, in a car, with a stranger, at night.
And then my senses came back with sudden clarity and I opened my mouth to scream.
The mystery man-now I could see he had a muscular build-put his large hand over my mouth, silencing me. His fingers were rough and calloused.
I struggled against his grip, successfully managing to loosen it long enough to let out a muffled cry for help.
Oh God. Oh God, this could not be happening.
I flashed back to that terrible night, in the bell tower with Ian. Heard my anguished screams, felt his hands tighten around my windpipe, saw myself struggling frantically, desperately…
"Shhh, Spencer, it's okay."
That voice. That voice that I thought I'd live and die without ever hearing say my name with that tenderness again. I knew that voice.
I quieted and squinted up into his face, immediately recognizing the blue eyes.
"Toby?" My voice came out breathy and squeaky and two octaves higher than usual. "What are you…?"
"I saw your car," he explained, releasing me abruptly. I instantly felt a chill-the chill of his reluctance to touch me-go through my body.
"Oh."
'Oh'? That's all you have to say? God, you're such an idiot! I chided myself mentally. This is your chance to fix this mess, Spencer! Talk to him; don't screw it up again.
"Uh, I was just…going," I said lamely, reaching up to self-consciously run a hand through my thick dark brown waves, wondering idly if they were even half-decent looking. (After being this close to being charged with murder, you kind of stop worrying about superficial things like hair.)
"I don't think so."
Before I could ask what he meant, his lips met mine.
Oh my God. He was kissing me. And all I could do was kiss back. I had thought I'd never touch his lips again, and now that I was, I couldn't imagine stopping.
Suddenly, logic cut in through the sheer romance of the moment, and A's menacing words rang through my head. Keep Toby safe. Keep Toby safe. Keep Toby safe.
I pulled away roughly, trembling with fear and confusion and desire. "W-what are you…?"
"Spencer," he stated my name with an almost eerie calm.
"No. Toby, we can't…you can't…" I was struggling to formulate words. I, who usually had all the answers, who planned and plotted and perfected, had no idea what to say. I loved him, God, I loved him. But A…A wasn't one to be swayed by that. By the depth of how we felt about each other.
"Spencer, I just had to see you," he blurted and I could see the urgency, the desperation, written all over his face. "I had to make sure you were okay."
At these words, my resolve cracked and I felt one lone tear slip down my cheek, dropping onto my lap. How could he care? How could he still want to make sure I was okay after I had broken his heart in the cruelest way possible?
How could I love him if it putting him in danger? How could I keep him safe if it meant destroying us both?
"I'm fine," I lied, looking away. I had been doing a lot of that recently too; lying. Outside my car, the streetlights lazily winked on as twilight fell over picturesque Rosewood.
"No you're not."
I glanced away from the window in surprise. He'd always been able to read me better than anyone. But, honestly, I had always been pretty good at concealing my emotions and putting on a brave face. At lying. Toby was the very first person I had truly let my guard down for; really let in.
I looked back up into his captivating, icy blue eyes.
"W-what does it matter to you?" I heard myself ask.
"Spencer…" he paused, then placed his hands atop his knees, swiveling slightly to look at me. "We…need to talk."
I let out a shrill, bitter laugh at the ridiculously clichéd line. We need to talk. The only thing I wanted to say to him was that I was sorry. That a deranged, maliciously crafty stalker/killer had made me do it. That I loved him so, so much. Just get past this awkwardness, this pain, this remorse, and go back to the way we were.
The way we would never, ever be again.
"Spencer, I…I gave you a month," he said, looking me directly in the eye. "A month to figure things out. I called you. Over and over. But…Spence, is that really how little I meant to you? Was I your charity case?"
Hurt was reflected in his eyes. I couldn't bear it. Couldn't bear to see him like that.
"No," I whispered. "No. Toby, you were never my charity case. It was never about that."
"Then what? Is it that you don't trust me?"
"No! I do trust you!" I said, hearing my voice rise.
There was a long pause.
"Spencer, I…I always thought we felt the same way about each other."
"I do! I feel the same way; it's not about that either."
"Then what?" he was starting to sound frustrated; with me, with the situation.
"It's just…" I hesitated. "There's a lot you don't know. And some things I can never tell you. And…if I tell you, something really bad could happen to you, Toby. It's complicated, and I know I'm not making sense, but that's the way it is."
My head was pounding now. This A thing had been going on for so long, I had no idea how to tell him without really telling him. And telling him would be pretty similar to digging a grave for him. After all, telling Dr. Sullivan—wherever the hell she was now—was what had caused this mess to begin with.
"Spencer, I always told you that you could tell me anything," Toby said quietly.
"Believe me, I wish I could but…I can't," I said, feeling a sob bubble up in my throat. "It's too dangerous, and I…can't risk hurting you."
"Spencer…"
"I won't let you take the punishment for my actions," I snapped firmly. "Not anymore."
A flash of lightning lit up the horizon, and the skies, which had been threatening since morning, finally opened up. Rain pelted against the windows of my car, fogging them instantly.
"Spencer…"
"I thought I could handle it without hurting you. I thought I could fix it without you getting caught up in the middle. But I couldn't, and…" I paused, closing my eyes for a split second before continuing. "I can't…I just can't do it anymore, Toby. Neither can my friends. We just can't. But we know…we know it's not over, and-and it'll never be over. I just…don't know what to do, okay?"
And then, suddenly, something inside of me broke and I burst into tears, shaking, raspy, uncontrollable sobs, burying my head in my hands. Toby gently wrapped me up in his arms, just holding me there, like he had before. I didn't fight it. I just let the one I loved hold me there and whisper in my ear. It's going to be okay. Shhh…don't cry.
The words that had never meant anything suddenly meant so much.
"Toby…" I sobbed the name that I loved the most, the flowing tears drenching my cheeks.
"Shhh," he whispered. "Don't cry. Please, Spence?"
When I didn't respond, he just held me closer, and wrapped in his arms, for the first time in a long time, I felt safe. Secure. Loved.
Finally, when every last tear had been cried out, I looked up at Toby, who gently tilted my chin upwards with his thumb, using his fingers to wipe away the last of my still-falling tears, still holding me in the same comforting embrace. He ran his fingers gently over my hair, and I melted a little into his touch.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly, kissing my forehead.
He still cared. Somehow, through all the hell I'd put him through, he still managed to care.
"How can it still matter to you? How can I still matter?" I heard myself ask. "After everything that happened, why did you come to the police station after me?"
Toby seemed taken aback by the question. "I guess because, well…Spence, what you said in the truck, it didn't sit right with me. It wasn't you. And you don't do anything without a reason, and I know what it feels like to have a reason and no one wants to hear it. So I went after you. I needed a…a reason, and I wanted you to know how I really felt, before I lost you for good."
I toyed with the silver Tiffany and Co. locket around my neck, biting my lip. He would never, ever truly lose me; didn't he know that? Didn't he know how much he meant to me, how I felt? "Toby," I began, asking the question that I really wanted to know the answer to. "Did you really mean what you said at the police station?"
I peered up at him through my moisture-lined lashes, and the way I felt, looking at him, in that moment, overwhelmed me. Because I knew. At that moment, I knew deep in my heart of hearts, my soul, that I was irrevocably in love with Toby Cavanaugh, so deeply that it hurt. But I didn't do feelings. We didn't talk about it in my family, and I never really believed in the sweep you off your feet, heart-pounding true love that everyone always talked about, until I met him. But the way I felt about Toby utterly defied my disbeliefs. It made me believe in a world outside scoring goals, winning awards, getting extra-credit, taking AP classes, and being perfect to everyone; a world outside mystery stalkers, long unsolved murders, crime records, and stakeouts. He showed me a happy place, where I could just be. He never pressured me into perfection; in fact, he thought I was perfect just the way I was.
I always wanted to be perfect. The perfect daughter, the perfect student, the perfect friend. But if the past few months had taught me anything, it was that things don't always work out the way you want them to, and I had learned to accept no matter what your GPA is, how many goals you score, how many other peoples' problems you try to solve, that isn't what's important. And it's when you realize what the important things are that you realize what they mean to you. How you can't live without them. But by then, they might be gone—maybe for good. I don't know what, exactly, made me ask if Toby still loved me. I might know how to understand French, what the first product in the United States sold with a barcode was, and who wrote every notable literary work in history, but I don't know why I let Ian kiss me, why Ali died, who killed her, who A is, if my friends and I will ever be safe.
But that's the thing about life. Not knowing everything, it's okay. Because you learn. You grow. And someday, you'll get the answers. Maybe it won't be today, or tomorrow, but I knew I had to keep fighting. For me, for Toby, for Aria, Emily, and Hanna. For Alison.
"Yes," Toby said quietly, moving a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Spence…I still do. And even if there is a risk with us being together, it doesn't matter," he continued, eyes flashing empathetically. "I'm willing to fight for you, for us. You're everything to me, Spencer, okay? Everything."
I looked up at him, feeling my heart swell. He loved me. Toby loved me.
And suddenly, all the bad things in the world, dark and shadowy and twisted, vanished, as I touched my lips to his.
The kiss was deep and slow, yet urgent and fiery, and I relaxed into it. Because I loved him. He was my everything, and as selfish as it sounded, he was mine. It was almost scary, how perfectly we fit together, so flawlessly, so seamlessly…
When we finally pulled away, I glanced up at him. "You're my everything too," I whispered. "That's why I did it. Because you mean that much to me."
"I care more about you than your secrets, Spence."
I felt tears sting my eyelids. How could he be so completely perfect? "You don't care that I can't tell you things?"
"No," he replied. "Because I trust you. And I know you'll tell me when you're ready."
I laughed lightly, a tear slipping down my cheek. "We're so messed up, you know that, right?"
"Alone? Yeah. But together, it's not so bad, is it?"
It wasn't. And then I realized…A was always going to torture me. But clinging to every tiny clue and empty theory didn't help anyone. I might be done playing the game, but I wasn't forfeiting. I was playing till the end, with Toby right there by my side.
And suddenly, I realized that I needed to say it, because he needed to know. He needed to know what he meant to me, how deeply I felt for him.
"I love you." I managed, speaking over the lump in my throat.
He gently tilted my chin upward, cupping my face in his palm. "I love you too," he said, smiling that incredible smile. A wave of emotion went through me, and my lips connected with his again.
"I'm sorry that I didn't say it with the truck or at the police station. But I've never said it before and I wanted it to be perfect but you know nothing is ever perfect with us and-"
"Spencer," he stopped me before I could get into one of my rants. "I know."
I looked at him, and how much I loved him in that moment was totally indescribable. He kissed me gently, and I leaned into him. He pulled away, kissed my cheek, then looked at me. And the look on his face was one of pure love and contentment and it made my heart beat just a little bit faster.
"I love you," I whispered again, feeling a wide smile wash over my face. It hurt to smile, like stretching a muscle that hadn't been used in far too long. "So much."
He laughed lightly, gently cradling me in his arms. "Not as much as I love you."
"I love you," I said again, unable to stop saying those three words that had been on the tip of my tongue for so long. "I love you, Toby."
He grinned, trailing his fingers through my hair, laying a kiss on my temple. "I love you too, Spencer. I love you more than anything else in the world. And nothing will ever change that."
I nodded, believing it wholeheartedly. Nothing could ever change the amount of love Toby and I had. He kissed me, long and deep and passionately, and I kissed him back.
"I really needed someone tonight," I whispered, breaking away for air. "Actually, I needed someone my whole life. But tonight…I realized how lucky I am to have you. To be able to say that I'm yours."
Toby kissed my ring finger, and then took both my hands in his. "I never want to lose you," he whispered, pulling me a little closer.
"You never will," I promised, kissing him to punctuate my statement. "Never."
Then we kissed again, and, my problems faded into the night breeze as I kissed the one I loved, and who loved me, and I knew no one—not A or our parents or Jenna or anyone—could ever take that away.
He was mine. Now and forever and ever.
Because maybe perfect was this moment, and maybe all I had to do was realize that.
And I had.
-Fin.-
