Disclaimer: I don't own Pretty Little Liars.
Why enjoy today when you can be worrying about tomorrow?
Aria's parents love her, even though she dated her English teacher. Em's vaguely homophobic parents love her, even though she's gay. Hanna's parents love her, even though she shoplifts and makes thoughtless mistakes constantly.
And then there's Spencer. The poor little Hastings girl. The one who has a brother her parents never thought to mention. The one who got addicted to *gasp* speed when the pressure to be perfect couldn't be confined to the day. The crazy one.
That's what people call me. I've heard them do it. They never categorized Ali, though. I don't think she could be shoved into a word. I couldn't explain Ali in a novel. But I'm just crazy.
Being a Hastings is a curse. An inescapable curse. I was born into a family of winners, of beautiful, ruthless winners. Once you're born into a group like that, there's no escaping the fact that you are condemned to a life of trophies, fake smiles, A pluses and backstabbing. Whether you like it or not. Who wouldn't lose it under pressure like that?
Melissa only survives because she's just like them. There's nothing behind her dazzling, mascara-lined eyes but a need to win. No, not a need. A hunger. A desperate thirst to be the best. From her blown-out bob to the tips of her Christian Louboutins, Melissa's a Hastings, through and through. Her insanity's all that keeps her sane these days.
I heard Emily say I was "a little off" the other day. What's that even supposed to mean? Maya just nodded. No argument. Like me being crazy is just a fact. I'm not crazy. I'm not. I'm just not. I can't be. I'm a Hastings, remember? And Hastings do not go crazy. Can you imagine, my pretty family sitting around their mahogany dinner table and finding out that their youngest, little Spencer, has gone off the rails? And you know that the first thought in their heads is "what will everyone say?" They don't give a shit that I'm rotting in Radley, they're just afraid someone might see through their white-gold picket fence, that I'm tainting our esteemed family name.
Hastings.