Stage 1
"Hey, Babe, need some help?"
Emily sighed deeply, trying her best to collect herself. Her first day of high school was turning out to be the worst day ever. Rosewood High was a lot bigger than Tucker Middle School had been, like a giant maze. There were so many more people everywhere, rushing off in a thousand directions. Everything seemed to be moving so much faster. Emily had already gotten lost twice – and, the last time, the "teacher" she had asked for directions turned out just to be a tall, bearded boy in the senior class. She couldn't remember when she had felt so small and childish – and helpless – before.
And, to make things worse, she couldn't get her locker open. And since school rules said that she had to keep her phone in her locker during class, a stuck locker meant that she couldn't text Hanna to figure out where she was supposed to meet her for lunch. And, just when she thought things couldn't get any more embarrassing, someone had to show up and notice her in her helpless, frustrated state and make it into a big deal. She bit her lip before she turned to face the stranger. Reminding herself not to get upset at someone who was only trying to help, she forced a smile. "N… no thank you," she stammered, not able to look the girl in the eye.
"Ooh," her unwelcomed helper cooed with an obscene whistle, "Somebody call the vet, because those puppies are sick!"
Emily looked up, confused, and saw that the girl's eyes were focused on her chest. She immediately shrugged her sweater over herself – and immediately regretted it, knowing that it was just the kind of embarrassed and rattled response that the girl was trying to provoke with her lewd comment.
Emily hadn't thought anything about the fact that the girl addressed her as "Babe." She had spent time with her father in Fort Hood, Texas, where everybody was "Sweetheart," "Darlin'," or "Hon." But the crude pick-up line that followed it made it abundantly clear: This girl was a class-A creep.
"My locker's just stuck, that's all," Emily said, keeping her voice from quavering. She steeled her expression the way that her father, a lieutenant colonel in the Army, had taught her to do, should she find herself face-to-face with bullies.
"Well, stuck lockers just happen to be my specialty, sweet cheeks!" The girl leaned against the row of lockers with a casual smirk on her face. She spun the combination dial of one locker, then another, then a third. After she spun the third dial, she pulled the locker open with a "voilà!" gesture.
Emily couldn't figure out how the girl had managed to open the locker, but she was perplexed rather than impressed. And more than a little bit scared. All of a sudden, from out of nowhere, another girl showed up, breathless as she almost crashed into the row of lockers and took hold of Emily by the shoulder. "There you are!" she pronounced animatedly. Emily looked at her, confused and on the verge of tears. Her problems had just doubled, with strangers on either side of her. She didn't know why she was getting all this attention, and she didn't know how to get out of it. "Uh, did you forget that we were meeting at lunch?" Before Emily could respond, the girl impatiently followed up with, "You were going to run through my calculus flash cards with me?" The girl tilted her head and raised an eyebrow accusingly.
Emily took a look at the stranger on her left, who was staring daggers at the newer stranger, and she made her choice. Whatever this case of mistaken identity was, it was her excuse to get away from Creepy Locker Girl. And it would be easier to ditch Calculus Flash Cards Girl in the halls or the lunchroom. "Sorry…" Emily stuttered. "It… it slipped my mind." She gave Locker Girl an "adios" smile, and headed down the hall, keeping up with the brisk pace that Calculus Girl had established.
"Yeah," Locker Girl called behind them, her voice growing louder as the distance between them increased, "And when you're finished with her, you can run through biology with me!" She was practically shouting as unleashed her final salvo, "I forgot my flash cards, but you can just flash me your…"
The last word died in her throat, replaced by a sheepish grin when she saw Ms. Montgomery turning towards her, looking very interested in whatever was about to come out of her mouth.
"Spencer," the Calculus Girl said, once she and Emily had made it a safe distance away from Emily's locker. Emily looked at her, confused and about to explain that she wasn't Spencer, when the stranger continued. "Spencer Hastings." Emily's head leaned back slowly as she realized what was going on. This stranger was introducing herself as Spencer Hastings, and, in doing so, she was acknowledging that they'd never met. It hadn't been a case of mistaken identity, but, rather, a rescue mission. Emily smiled in gratitude. "And you're Hanna's friend?" Spencer Hastings blurted out a moment later.
Oh, right! Emily realized that she hadn't introduced herself back. "Yeah… uh… Eh… Em. Emily," she sputtered, with a nervous but relieved chuckle. "Emily Fields."
"Nice to meet you, Emily," Spencer said, without slowing her pace. "Sorry," she explained, "I saw Paige McCullers putting the moves on you, and it looked as if you could use a little help."
"Oh, no," Emily said, in response to Spencer's apology. "Thank you!"
"I mean, not that you couldn't handle yourself," Spencer continued, "but… Well, I know Paige from middle school. And field hockey. She can be a bit hardcore, when she's on the prowl." Emily nodded, smiling demurely. "Did you need to get anything from your locker?" Emily shook her head. Her phone could wait. She wasn't ready to go back to the scene of the crime. "Good!" Spencer said enthusiastically, patting her new friend on the back. "Come join me for lunch!"
Emily was glad for the invitation; glad to have someone to lean on over lunch, since she hadn't been able to connect with Hanna. "So, um… how do you know Hanna?" she asked.
"Her mom knows my Mom," Spencer said matter-of-factly. "She's been over to my house. You know, the RWDA."
"RWDA?"
"Rosewood Wine Drinkers' Association," Spencer clarified, tipping her head back with her hand near her mouth, looking as though she were throwing back something much stronger than wine.
"Oh. That sounds like something my Mom would enjoy, actually." Emily regretted the words as soon as she had said them. The association sounded very high-society and exclusive. She could tell by Spencer's jewelry and shoes – and by the way that she carried herself – that she came from money. The RWDA was probably the kind of club that was too elite for an Army officer's wife.
Spencer raised her eyebrow with a smirk. "It's not an actual club," she said softly. "Just some bored women who end up getting together and drinking. But, yeah," she added quickly, "I'm sure they'd love to have your mom join them!" Emily nodded gratefully. Spencer seemed sincere, and Emily knew that her mom would enjoy having some women to hang out with over a good bottle of wine. "So, how do you know Hanna?"
Emily snorted out a laugh. "Oh, I've known Hanna all my life," she explained. "We grew up together. She's the one who drives me crazy and keeps me sane."
"Oh yeah, I definitely get that. Well, the driving you crazy part," she teased. "And, speak of the devil…" Spencer gestured toward Hanna, who was furiously typing into her phone. She looked up as the pair approached her.
"There you are!" she said, accusingly to Emily. "How come you haven't answered my texts?"
"My locker was stuck!" Emily pleaded.
"Couldn't you find someone to unstuck it?"
"I…" Emily shook her head. It wasn't worth getting into. Not right then, at least. But she definitely had words for Hanna later on, after school, when it was just the two of them.
"You told someone!" Emily barked, slamming Hanna's shoulders against the locker with more force than she'd intended. The sound echoed through the deserted hallway.
"Ow!" Hanna said, not in pain but in accusation. "Told who what?"
"You know!" Emily almost screamed.
"Know what?"
"Uggh!" Emily groaned, beyond frustrated. "I told you that I think I might like girls. And I told you not to tell. And you told!"
"What?" Hanna was stunned. She couldn't believe that Emily would think that she'd tell, and she couldn't figure out why she was accusing her.
"I said I think, Hanna," Emily continued, more upset than angry. "I never said I definitely did! And I definitely said I didn't want it blabbed all over school!"
"Em, I swear! I never told anyone! I would never tell anyone something private like that!"
"Then how come Paige McCullers was all, 'Hey, Baby, what's your deal?'" Emily asked in a deep, creeper voice, wiggling her eyes like some middle-aged sleazebag in a singles bar.
"Paige McWho?"
Emily groaned again. Who she was wasn't the point. "It doesn't matter! Some girl! You told someone, and she told someone, and… someone told Paige McCullers!"
"Yeah," Hanna was starting to get offended, "only, I never told someone." Emily shook her head skeptically. "Look, Emily, you've got to face facts." Hanna gestured the length of Emily's body. "You… blossomed over the summer. You're going to get a lot of attention from the guys… and, I guess, the girls out there!"
Emily felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. Her legs felt mushy, like overcooked spaghetti, and her breathing grew shallow.
She didn't remember much about what happened next. She didn't remember Hanna walking her home, with her arm around her shoulder to provide physical as well as emotional support. She didn't remember Hanna explaining to Pam Fields that her daughter had had a very rough first day, and that she should give her some space to sort things out. She didn't remember collapsing on top of her bed, or her mother coming to check on her later and leaving a plate of food that went untouched through the night.
She only remembered crying; weeping uncontrollably; so many tears.
Emily hated her body. Or, rather, she hated what her body had become. And the way it had betrayed her.
It seemed to happen overnight, over the summer. All of a sudden, her well-toned, athletic frame just sprouted, becoming softer, more curvy. It was a nightmare. Nothing worked the same. She couldn't walk the same. Her center of balance had shifted. Nothing from her old life fit anymore. Her old life didn't fit anymore.
Emily's first fear was of what her new body would do to her swimming. She loved to swim, and she was great at it. She had always been like a torpedo in the water – that's what her coach used to call her. Built for speed. Now, she felt more like a flotation device, built to bob up and down on the surface on the surface of the water.
But that hadn't been Emily's greatest fear. The thing that really terrified was the effect that her new figure would have on her relationship with her father. She was Wayne Fields' only daughter, and, more than anything in the world, he loved spending time with her. They did everything together: fishing, hunting, playing football in the mud. She had heard the young soldiers her father knew talking about how much they wanted to have boys; someone they could do those kinds of things with. But she never heard anything like that from her dad. He didn't care that she wasn't a boy. It was never an issue. Or, it never had been up until that point. Emily had seen how Wayne Fields reacted around his young female soldiers, keeping them at arm's length, avoiding any hint of impropriety. Would he start to look at her that way, afraid that he would somehow break her or hurt her, now that she looked more like a delicate lady than a tough young girl?
When Pam and Emily headed out to Texas for the last two weeks of summer, those fears were quickly put to rest. Things were exactly the same between her and her dad as they had always been. She never felt conspicuous or different. They still played in the mud, still went hunting the rain and, much to Pam's chagrin, still came home sweaty and smelling of the stinky fish they had spent all morning catching and cleaning. Wayne and Emily still shadow-boxed, and he still challenged her to take her best shot, pretending that it didn't hurt when she gave him a sharp jab to the shoulder. And she still leaned on his shoulder on the couch when they were up way too late eating nachos and watching horror movies. And, when she did, he put his arm around her and let her fall asleep with her head on his chest.
Her fears about swimming turned out to be unfounded as well. As it turned out, she wasn't the first swimmer to have a body like that. There were suits that could minimize its impact. She had to think through her timing and her strokes at first, to compensate for biology, but, soon, it all became second nature. She was still a torpedo in the water.
So, it was tempting to think that all of her fears were only in her head. And everyone around her was quick to downplay them, whenever she complained about what her body had become.
"Any girl would kill to have a body like that!"
"You should thank the high heavens for gifting you with that body!"
"Just wait till the boys get a glimpse of you!"
But what those people failed to see was that the boys had already been getting their glimpses. Boys. More like men. Men old enough to be her father, who all of a sudden took notice of her, as if she were an adult – rather than a girl barely in her teens.
Most of the boys in middle school had still been too immature to have feelings for – or, at least, to admit their feelings for – girls. But everything was different at Rosewood High. Just as her body had sprouted out of nowhere over the summer, hormones had sprouted in the boys. And the girls. Hanna was right. That kind of attention was something that she was going to have to get used to, thanks to her new body.
So, Emily learned how to dress to minimize her figure, in loose, oversized shirts that gave little away. Fall was easy, with big cardigans and sweats to keep things camouflaged. Even in the winter, when the classrooms were heated up like Roman saunas, she managed to keep curves under wraps. Spring provided something of a challenge. It wasn't just the weather, which, more often than not, was still reliably cool and sweater-appropriate. But spring had something else in store: Swim season.
And Paige McCullers turned out to be on the swim team. Of course.
Emily had managed to keep her distance from Paige for most of her freshman year. They didn't travel in the same circles, and Paige was happy to lavish her attention on other, easier prey. But when Emily saw Paige's name scrawled on the sign-up sheet for the swim team, her heart sank.
The thing was, Emily really loved swimming. It wasn't just that she was great at it. Had it just been about competing and winning trophies, Emily would have dropped the sport in a heartbeat, once she saw Paige's name on the sheet. But she loved the water. Plus, there was a more practical reason: Swimming was her best hope at being able to be able to afford college.
Emily took consolation in the fact that she and Paige had last names in different parts of the alphabet. The freshmen lockers were all together, assigned alphabetically, so there would be a few lockers between "Fields" and "McCullers." And, deep down, Emily didn't expect Paige to do anything inappropriate in the pool – or the locker room, or the showers. Especially after Coach Fulton shut that down at her first meeting with the new freshmen. She said didn't care what people's orientation was; she didn't have a problem with her swimmers dating other swimmers. But she had zero tolerance for any kind of funny business during team activities. That kind of crap, as the coach so colorfully called it, would get the program canceled faster than Katie Ledecky's leg in the 400-meter relay.
So, Emily didn't have to worry about Paige McCullers in the pool. But, as it turned out, she and Paige developed into the cream of the freshman crop, head and shoulders above the rest of the team. That meant extra training together. She and Paige were going to be buddies, whether she wanted that or not.
And Paige, though she kept her eyes and her hands to herself, was still the same "Hey, Baby," flirty, insinuating girl who had confronted Emily on the first day of school. As much as Emily tried to overlook it, it was a persistent source of stress for her.
Paige was like a skilled improv comic. She could turn anything into some type of innuendo about her and Emily. One afternoon, when she and Emily were studying tapes from their meet with Ravenswood, Emily paused the video and said, "Now, see there? I think your position is a little off."
"There's nothing wrong with my positioning, Babe," Paige said in her creeper voice. "Trust me, I know all the positions…"
"Paige!" Emily screeched impatiently.
"Tower of Power, Ride the Ducks, Stairway to Heaven, Liquid Plumber…" Paige was bobbing her head back and forth as she spat out the names rap style.
Emily's face was rapidly flushing. She didn't have any idea what the positions Paige kept spouting off were, but she knew enough to be mortified by them. When Paige finally stopped, Emily was able to breathe again. "As I…"
"Flush the Toilet," Paige added slowly and seductively, wiggling her eyebrows.
"Paige!" Emily shouted. "You're fooling around too much! We have a big meet on Friday! This is serious business!" Emily was trying to project a confidence that wasn't really there.
"Okay," Paige said, clearing her throat and sitting up straight in her chair. "I'm totally serious."
Emily nodded once and pointed to the monitor.
"Because I could seriously give you the business," Paige interjected, out of the side of her mouth.
Emily threw down the remote and put her hand to her forehead. Paige apologized – "You can't set me up like that!" – and they managed to get through the rest of the video review. But Emily had had enough. She was going to have to have a talk to Coach Fulton. Whether or not Paige realized it, it was sexual harassment. Emily couldn't be alone with her anymore – even if that meant that Emily had to quit the team. She was sure that her parents would understand, even though it would cost her a scholarship. She just really wasn't looking forward to telling them why she had to quit.
But, as it turned out, she didn't have to. One day, the problem just went away. Literally.
"I'm going to California, you know," Paige announced matter-of-factly, as they sat at the side of the pool, cooling down from their laps.
"Oh?" Emily continued rubbing the feeling back into her shoulder.
"Yeah," Paige said, standing up to stretch, adjusting her suit as she stood. "If you're really serious about swimming," she said, tilting her head to the side to let the water drain from her ear, "you need to train out there." Emily just nodded. "My Dad sent my tapes to a coach out in Palo Alto. He liked what he saw, and…" Paige smiled, shrugging her shoulders.
"Palo Alto… that's…"
"Stanford, exactly," Paige said, her smile growing even wider.
"Wow!"
"Yeah!"
There was an awkward silence for a few moments. Emily stood up to wring out her hair.
"Anyway," Paige said, reaching awkwardly for a hug. The gesture caught Emily off guard, but she recovered quickly. "It's been great swimming with you." Paige drew back from the hug and amiably punched Emily in the shoulder. "Best of luck!"
And that was the last that Emily saw of her.
Stage 2
"Ooh, all those curves, and me with no brakes!"
Emily gasped into a smile, recognizing the voice as well as the modus operandi. She extended her arms as she turned around. "Paige McCullers!" she said enthusiastically, and wrapped Paige into a hug. "I heard that you were going to be swimming for Stanford this year!"
"And I heard that you must be a Kung Fu master, because your body is kickin'!"
Emily tilted her head back in amiable laughter, resting her hand on Paige's shoulder to steady herself. "Oh, my goodness, Paige!" she said, more with good humor than anything else. "Still whipping out those pick-up lines? It's great to see that some things never change."
But you obviously have! Paige didn't voice that thought; instead, she just smiled weakly and played along. But it was clear to Paige that Emily had matured; grown more confident somewhere along the way. It was throwing Paige off of her game. She was expecting Emily to be all demure and shy; easily embarrassed. This new Emily was still a turn-on, but Paige didn't know how to hunt that kind of game.
It was kind of like a kitten, encountering a squirrel in the garden for the first time, only it's not a live squirrel but just a statue. The kitten's hunting instincts kick in and he stalks his prey, but, just as he's about to pounce, he notices something that doesn't make sense. The squirrel doesn't scamper away. It's totally unintimidated. That makes the kitten extra cautious and a bit afraid of this unknown foe. That was Paige all over; backing away, mid-pounce, not knowing what to make of things.
Paige's instincts about Emily were right, as it turned out. Emily had matured and shed the timid mouse persona of her high school days. She could trace the transformation back to one individual: Maya St. Germain.
Maya and her family moved into the old house next store to Emily's, and they became almost-instant friends. When Pam told Emily to take a housewarming gift – nothing extravagant – over to the neighbors' house, Emily whined and protested. She wasn't comfortable with new people; with introducing herself and getting to know strangers. But there was something about Maya that was different; welcoming. She was, quite simply, a good friend. And Emily's developing body didn't seem to matter to her. Maya never complained about how her body measured up, never joked about Emily's body, never told Emily how lucky she was. And the night when, out of nowhere, Maya leaned in to kiss Emily, it felt like connecting with a friend, not being slobbered over by someone motivated by lust over the way that Emily looked. Soon, Emily found herself thinking less and less about what her body was like, and more and more about who she was as a person. It was liberating; even empowering.
Even though she and Maya went their separate ways after two years of a passionate relationship, Emily never denied or downplayed the profound impact that Maya had had on her life. And she never denied or downplayed her love for Maya. They didn't split up because they had fallen out of love or had had a big fight or anything like that. They simply came to realize that they were going in opposite directions, and that there was no way for them to walk any further together. Maya had a wild streak about her, including drugs, and that just didn't work with Emily and her focus on her sport, and maintaining the sanctity of her body as a temple.
There was no animosity between them when they split up. They were still good friends. Emily owed a debt of gratitude for Maya for helping her to grow comfortable in her skin, but the feelings that she retained for Maya were much more than obligation. It had never been like that between them. She and Maya were soulmates, first as friends, then as girlfriends, and, finally, back to just friends again.
Once again, at Stanford, as had happened at Rosewood High, Emily and Paige found themselves spending a significant amount of time together, for the same reason that they had in high school: They were team's stand-out freshmen, and Coach Meehan wanted them to train together, to push each other and to learn from each other. So, they were constant companions. And Paige was relentless. It was never in a threatening way, but it was just constant – constant suggestive comments and tired old pick-up lines. She still demonstrated the uncanny ability to turn everything into something suggestive. Once, when they were grabbing a bite after a rough workout and Emily announced that she was going to treat herself to a burger, Paige replied, in a salacious tone, "Ooh, yeah, go for the burger, 'cause you've already got the shake!" Or when Emily talked about how much she was enjoying her early childhood classes, Paige talked about how she would love to be Emily's baby. Or her baby's mama. The Emily from ninth grade would've been petrified by comments like that, and unnerved by their constant repetition. She probably would've talked to Coach Meehan about changing up their training arrangements. But Stanford Emily was able to laugh it off and deflect.
As often as Paige may have been rebuffed by Emily, she was never lonely. She had what seemed to be a constant stream of conquests, and she had no qualms about sharing the news of her exploits with Emily. Emily thought that Paige was using her stories as advertising: Thousands of satisfied customers can't be wrong; give it a try. Closer to the truth was the fact that Paige was trying to validate herself; to demonstrate that there was something of value in her apart from her swimming. Emily would never have questioned that, had she been asked, but it was important to Paige that she knew that there were people who liked her – even if only for one night.
One night, Paige laid it on the line. "Why can't you and I get together?"
"Oh, Paige," Emily said gamely, "we get together every night. I'm here, aren't I?"
"You know what I mean, Em," Paige said, almost pleading. "Do you just not like girls?" Emily rolled her eyes. She was on to Paige's game. "You don't like strong women?"
"Paige…" Emily half-whined.
"You don't like me?"
Emily laughed at that. This was exactly where Emily expected that line of questioning to end, with a false expression of low self-esteem. Paige was trying to make Emily feel guilty for rejecting her, as if she thought she that Paige was beneath her. She wanted to make Emily feel guilty and embarrassed for coming off as stuck-up – and let her guard down. But Emily wasn't falling for it. "Come on, Paige," she said condescendingly. "You've got girls lined up waiting for you! You don't need me to prove your womanhood."
Paige was silent for a while. "Don't believe everything you hear, Emily. I'm not as big a player as people make out that I am."
Emily squeezed Paige's hand sympathetically. It was a rare moment of vulnerability from Paige. But Emily knew that she couldn't take it seriously. It was all part of her ploy. Paige looked up at her, hopefully. Emily let out a sigh of frustration, weary of constantly having to fight off Paige's advances.
"Just forget it," Paige said, her tone a mixture of weariness and defeat.
Paige was less strident in her pursuit of Emily after that. It was as if the air had been let out of her tires. Things started to feel uncomfortable between them. And then, one day, as in high school, it stopped being a problem.
Paige seemed almost giddy when she met Emily in the weight room. Emily knew better than to ask what was up. Paige never talked while she was training – except to count reps and yell out words of instruction or encouragement. Whatever it was that had her so excited would have to wait till dinner.
"So?"
"So?" Paige set her tray down on the table, trying to keep a straight face, as if she weren't carrying a huge secret.
"So, why have you been on the verge of breaking into giggles ever since you stepped into the weight room today?"
Paige furrowed her brow and pointed all of her fingers at herself, "Moi?" Paige smiled, knowing that Emily would see right through her. "I have good news and bad news. Well, good news for me, bad news for you."
"Oh," Emily said soberly. "Well, let's get the bad news out of the way."
"Can I tell the good news first?"
"Paige," Emily said impatiently, through a wide smile, "I've been waiting all this time – just tell me something! Quickly!"
"Well," Paige cooed, drawing it out dramatically, "I'm going pro." Emily gasped in excitement, cupping her hands over her face. "I know!" Paige oozed.
"Paige, that's fantastic!" Emily stood up, and Paige quickly followed, leaning into Emily's outstretched arms. "Wow! That's really exciting!"
"Yeah," Paige agreed, sitting down as Emily did the same. "My Dad got me an agent, and I'm going to start training in Colorado."
Emily's eyes were still as wide as saucers. "Wow! This summer?"
"No," Paige corrected. "Next week."
Emily tilted her head. "Next week?"
"I'm withdrawing from Stanford and finishing my degree in an on-line program through the University of Colorado," Paige explained. "So," she deadpanned, "that's the bad news for you. You're going to have to say good-bye to all this!" Paige gestured from her head to her waist with both hands.
"Wow, so next week, huh?" Emily rolled her eyes slightly, but, otherwise didn't acknowledge what Paige had classified as the bad news. "That's hardly enough time to put a decent going-away party together!"
"Well, I was hoping for a private going-away party." Paige wiggled her eyebrows obscenely. "Just the two of us."
Emily's head fell backwards in laughter. "Yeah. The end of lines like that is definitely the bad news for me!"
"Well, you know me," Paige said with an easy-going smile, empty of her usual bravado. "I had to give it a shot!"
And that was the end of the Stanford chapter of Paige McCullers and Emily Fields.
Stage 3
She spotted the woman sitting alone at a table in the corner as soon as she walked in. There was no mistaking who it was, even though it had been a few years. And the years had been kind to her. She'd obviously kept up with her training.
She was old enough to know better. It felt like a stupid idea, but she went for it anyway, sauntering stealthily over to the bar to have a drink sent over to the table.
The bartender took a martini from a small, round tray and set it on the guest's table, gesturing towards the bar as he did. The woman at the table turned and looked in that direction, but there was no one there. She shrugged slightly and thanked him, picking up the glass and looking it over. Ice Wine Martini. Either it was a lucky guess, or it came from someone who knew her drink. She followed the bartender with her eyes as he made his way back to the bar, but there was still no one there. Sighing, she took a sip from the glass, before pushing it off to the side as she picked up the menu and fanned herself with it. All of a sudden, her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice from behind her.
"Was that an earthquake, or did you just rock my world?"
Paige smiled at the voice, not at the pick-up line, and jumped from her seat into a hug. "Emily!"
"Hey, Paige! Drinking alone? That doesn't sound like your style!"
"Well, actually, I was just getting a quick bite to eat before turning in early," Paige said with an unsure smile, pausing before she added softly, "Can you join me?"
Emily nodded, looking up at Paige with a thank-you smile as Paige helped her into a seat.
"Thanks for the drink, by the way," Paige said, raising her glass. "I'm surprised you remembered."
"I wasn't sure you even drank those anymore," Emily said with a slight smile.
Paige laughed amiably. "Well, right after that interview came out, I swear, everywhere I went, people were handing me Ice Wine Martinis. For like three months. So, yeah, I got sick of them for a while. Actually, I wish I'd made an endorsement deal with Stoli or… some other vodka brand."
Emily's smiled dimmed a little, hearing Paige describe what a cliché the move of sending her the drink had been. Paige picked up her Martini glass and eyed it admiringly. "But, that was… God, five years ago? Six? So, yeah. I'm back to enjoying them again."
"Wow, has it really been six years?" Emily squeezed Paige's forearm. "You look good!"
"Thanks," Paige said, dipping her head for a moment. "You look… great!" she announced, her face lit up like a Broadway marquee.
Emily giggled and resisted the urge to roll her eyes, expecting Paige to throw out some sort of come-on line. But none came, so she uttered a soft thank-you, punctuating it with a quick, friendly wink. Hoping to bring down the tension-level, she asked, "So, what brings you back to Rosewood? Needed a reminder of how the other half lives?"
Paige smiled nervously. This wasn't the way that she wanted Emily to find out. "Umm, it's a job interview, actually." Paige could tell that she was nervous because she kept hearing the word, "actually" come out of her mouth. "I'm actually (Damn it!) here for the coaching job at Rosewood High."
Emily gasped in surprise, leaning across the table and grabbing Paige's hands for support. "No way, you're the top secret, hotshot prospect Hackett's been dropping hints about?"
Paige shrugged her shoulders dismissively. "I guess…"
"Whoa!" Emily relaxed back against her chair. "Paige, seriously? You could have any coaching job you want. Like, anywhere! I heard they want you to coach the Olympic team!"
Paige inhaled deeply and blew out the air. "Yeah. There's been some talk about that. But…" Emily tilted her head in suspense after Paige stopped on that word. Paige nervously ran her fingers through her hair. She just had to spit it out. "But… Well, I chose swimming over you twice, and lived to regret it, Em. And before I made that mistake again, I guess I just wanted to see whether I had any kind of chance with you." She threw her hands up, having made her confession, and having to deal with the consequences.
She was looking intensely into Emily's eyes. It was obvious that this wasn't just one of her pick-up attempts.
"I had a lot of growing up to do," she continued. "I just wish that I had been less of a…"
"Cheesy pick-up artist?" Emily said, only half-joking.
Paige shrugged. "Well, I was going to say, 'immature jerk,' but, yeah. I wish I'd been less of… that, back when I knew you."
Emily lowered her eyes from Paige's intense gaze and into her lap. Paige's shoulders dropped in defeat, realizing how stupid her plan had been, and what an impossible position she had put Emily in. When Emily looked up again, it was with a forced smile. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Let's just enjoy tonight, shall we?"
Paige, chastened, forced a smile in return. "Let me just get you a menu." She turned to find her server – any excuse to look away from Emily – and raised her arm to get his attention. Emily pulled her arm down, though, scooting her chair next to Paige's.
"I can just look on with you. Besides," she said, bumping her shoulder with Paige's. "I'm pretty familiar with the menu, here."
"Oh, good." Paige was doing her best to stay upbeat. "Because I haven't got a clue what most of this stuff is. I really just came in here because I couldn't believe they'd turned the Radley into an upscale… dining… establishment." That sounded much better than admitting that she had gone to the Radley to fill up on some liquid courage before setting off for Emily's house and asking whether there was any reason for her to take the job at Rosewood High.
"I know, right?" Emily squeezed Paige's arm. "I couldn't believe it either! But they really did a great job with it, don't you think?"
Paige took a look around at the space and nodded in agreement. Handing the menu to Emily, she pleaded, "Actually, could you order for us? I'm kind of in over my head, here." Not that her head was fully functioning after Emily's rejection. She really didn't have much of an appetite anymore.
"Well, they have some great appetizers," Emily offered, knocking her shoulder against Paige's, "if you just want something light before your 'big' interview." Emily smiled broadly at the word, "big." Obviously, the job was Paige's for the taking, if she wanted it.
"That sounds perfect," Paige said, offering Emily a high-five, before she realized how immature the gesture was.
They spent most of dinner catching up. Emily wanted to know all about Paige's experiences on the professional swimming circuit, what the facilities and the training were like, and what her teammates were like. "I guess you have your pick-up lines down to a science by now, with all the new places and new faces you've seen!"
Paige played along with a smile, but admitted, "Actually, I'm not really like that anymore."
"I guess you don't have to be! I'm sure the girls are falling all over themselves to get to you!"
Paige gave a world-weary sigh. "Some of the women on the team go for that, but… I don't know. I'm kind of at that stage in my life where I'm thinking about… you know. Longer term. Marriage and family." Paige looked away sadly. "The stage of life where you realize that the window is slowly closing, and some of your past lifestyle choices start coming back to haunt you." Paige tried her best not to look depressed as she looked up at Emily again. "I wish I hadn't been so immature in high school," she said flatly. "It's hard not to wonder how different my life had been if I had been confident enough to show you my real self, instead of dropping all those lame lines."
Emily bit her lip and spoke slowly. "Paige, I…"
"I know," Paige interrupted. They had agreed just to enjoy their meal. No need to get all serious and mopey. She lowered her head, deflated. Emily gave her hand a quick, supportive squeeze.
Paige recovered quickly, and quickly changed the subject. "So, what about you? How's Sarafina doing? I feel as though I've watched that girl grow up on facebook!"
"Sara?" Emily's face brightened immediately at the mention of her name. "My little terror!" The delight in Emily's eyes was hard to hide.
"Terrible twos?"
"That's what they say. But I've been enjoying every minute of it."
"So, spoiling her?" Paige teased, with a nudge of her elbow.
"Well, you know what it's like, being an only child. And, not only that, but she's the only grandchild, too, so…"
Paige nodded in recognition of Sara's plight. "Well, I'd love to meet her, sometime," she said softly, not sure how appropriate the suggestion was.
"Yeah, you should!" Emily responded enthusiastically. "She would love that! She watches you on TV. You should hear her yell, 'Go, Paigey!'"
Paige pretended to cringe. "Paigey?"
"She's two, Paige. Let it go!" Emily bumped their shoulders teasingly.
To be honest, Paige was struggling with all of the contact; the brushing of shoulders, Emily's comforting squeezes. And there was the way that Emily's knee kept touching hers, ever since the server brought their shared plates over. Paige, not wanting to do anything inappropriate, had moved her leg away, but, before long, their knees were touching again. After a while, Paige stopped fighting it.
"So, is she with…" Paige hesitated, not knowing whether or not she should say the name. Despite what she'd seen on social media, she wasn't sure that Emily was okay with the breakup.
"No," Emily half-scoffed, but not bitterly. "I have full custody, now." She tapped her finger against the side of her wine glass in thought. "Maya was just…" Emily let out a deep breath. "You know, I'd never say anything bad about Maya. Honestly, she's great. I guess we just thought we could go back to what we had in high school, you know? I mean, I guess everyone wishes she could relive those high school days."
Paige scoffed at that remark. "Well, I don't know about everyone," she said, her voice overflowing with regret. She recovered quickly, offering an "I'm sorry," with a wave of her hand. She didn't want to make it about her, when Emily had a story to tell. "Please, go on."
Emily, with a half-smile, started up again. "Well, yeah. I guess you're right. I mean, high school didn't end all that great for Maya and me. But we convinced ourselves," she sighed, "that it would be different this time, now that we're older. Only, it turns out, the things that made us grow apart in high school were still there." Emily took a long sip from her wine glass, coughing into her hand as she set the glass back onto the table. Paige automatically refilled it.
"What kind of things?"
Emily shook her head. "We're just… two different people. Too different." Emily managed a smile. "Maya always had a lot of 'wander' in her, you know? She always needed an escape. In high school, it was the pot, at first, then it was the thrill-seeking – drag racing, midnight graffiti, stuff like that. And, as an adult… I don't know. Rosewood was never a big enough town for her." Emily let out a deep sigh, straining at the memory. "So, somehow, we decided to have a baby. I guess we thought that starting a family would bring us closer together, you know? Keep her closer to home." Emily's eyes dimmed. "But that's not how it works. Having a baby together doesn't automatically turn you into a family. I don't know what we were thinking. She still wasn't ready to do the house-and-home thing" Emily took another sip of wine and looked off across the table, into the corner. "Sometimes, I think it's a bit of a shame that Sara doesn't remember her, but…"
Paige rubbed Emily's shoulder. "It might be for the best?" she offered with a questioning face, hoping that she wasn't overstepping.
Emily nodded with a faint smile. "I'm sure Maya will be part of her life when she gets older."
"Yeah," Paige offered in solidarity, "I'm sure she will."
The conversation fell flat, crashing against the table like a kettlebell. The silence between them was almost painful. "So, who's watching Sara tonight?" Paige asked, attempting to get things going again.
"Oh," Emily said with a chuckle, "She's with my parents tonight." She cleared her throat and looked down at the tabletop, biting her lip before she filled Paige in on the rest of the story. "They were the only sitters I could get on such short notice."
Paige gave a closed-mouth chuckle, then furrowed her brow as she processed what Emily had said. "Short notice?"
"Yeah," Emily confessed, avoiding Paige's eyes. "Once Hanna told me she swore she'd just seen Paige McCullers going into the Radley." She folded and unfolded her napkin nervously.
Paige tilted her head back. "Oh, I see." But it took a couple of seconds before she actually did see the full meaning of what Emily had said. "Wait, you…"
Emily smiled shyly. Paige had put her feelings on the line, so Emily felt that she could, too. She hadn't been sure about things at first, when Paige made her grand declaration about why she was in Rosewood, but dinner had been great, quite frankly. There had always been something about Paige that attracted Emily, but that something had always been hard to get at, buried as it was underneath all of the layers of bravado and all of the lame pick-up lines. But, sitting at the table that evening, like adults, with all of the layers stripped away, Emily could see that this Paige was a different than the one she knew in high school and college.
Paige took Emily's hand under the table and leaned in to give her a gentle kiss. Her eyes were closed long after their lips parted, as if she were striving to convince herself that Emily had actually let her have the kiss, and it wasn't just something she had dreamed.
Emily let go of Paige's hand and stroked her cheek. Paige smiled at the contact, finally opening her eyes. Mirroring Emily's gesture, raising her hand to Emily's cheek, she asked, "Is that ice cream place that used to be over by the post office still there?"
"Loard's?" Emily nodded enthusiastically. Ice cream seemed like the perfect excuse to keep their evening going. "Still the best ice cream in Eastern PA!"
"I'll be the judge of that," Paige said, growing more confident as she stood and offered Emily her hands. "What do you say we go take Sara off your parents' hands?"
"Oh!" Emily gasped, surprised and impressed that Paige's plans included her daughter.
"That is," Paige continued, slightly thrown by Emily's reaction, "unless you're one of those moms who doesn't let her daughter have ice cream after sunset?"
Emily rolled her eyes as she wriggled out of her seat, accepting Paige's helping hands. "That sounds more like your mom, Paige." Paige shrugged her shoulders in an admission that Emily was right. Emily sighed dramatically. "I guess I could make an exception to the no-sugar-past-sundown rule this once." She elbowed Paige in the ribs. "After all, how often does she get to have ice cream with one of her idols from TV?"
"Once a week at least," Paige said, placing her hand on Emily's back as she opened the door on the way out. "If my interview goes well tomorrow, that is!"
They were hand in hand when they left the restaurant, but it was arm in arm before long, in a friendly way. Walking down the familiar streets of Rosewood in the warm, late-summer evening felt like walking with a good, old friend.
"Mom?" Emily called as she twisted the key in the lock and opened the door to her parents' house, ushering Paige inside.
"Emmy?" Pam called from the family room. "How did things go with…" Pam, with Sara in her arms, stopped mid-sentence, breaking into a smile at the sight of Emily and her guest. She rushed over, handing off Sara to Emily, to free her arms for a hug. "Paige McCullers! It's so great to see you!"
"It's great to see you, too," Paige replied enthusiastically, carefully avoiding saying Emily's mother's name. She knew that Pam wouldn't want to be called "Ms. Fields," but she just wasn't comfortable calling her Pam.
"Hey, little one," Emily said, turning Sara as she bounced her in her arms, positioning her so that she could see Paige. "Do you know who this is?"
Sara took the quickest glance in the direction of Paige's smiling face before focusing on her mother again, with a resolute shake of her head.
"It's Paige McCullers!" When she got no response, Emily added, "Paigey… you know – 'Go Paigey!'," helpfully pumping Sara's fist in the air. Sara would have repeated the cheer, had she not been too intimidated by the sight of one of her TV idols come to life. "And, guess what. She said she'd buy you ice cream if you show her that beautiful smile of yours!" The smile was there from the moment Emily said "Ice Cream." Sara obligingly directed it at Paige, to fulfill her part of the deal.
Pam, her face turned away from Paige, raised an eyebrow at Emily in pleasant surprise at this news. Then, realizing that she should do something rather than stare at the two of them in maternal-but-creepy enthusiasm, announced, "I'll just go get Sara's shoes."
"I'll go," Emily offered, stranding Paige in the foyer with her mother.
"So, Paige," Pam asked pleasantly, "what brings you to Rosewood?"
"Ummm…." Paige exhaled as she said the word, unsure how much she was willing to divulge to Emily's mother. There was, after all, only one reason for her to be considering a job in Rosewood, and it would be obvious, even to Pam. "Job interview," she admitted, not willing to start off with Emily's mother by telling a lie.
"Oh, you!" Pam teased, tapping Paige on the shoulder. "Emmy told you what I said?"
Paige tilted her head, genuinely confused. Pam let out a slight gasp, realizing that Paige wasn't kidding – and that she probably shouldn't have said anything.
"She didn't tell you?" Paige shrugged her shoulders, raising her hands to indicate that she didn't know what Pam was talking about. Pam sighed, knowing that Emily wouldn't want her to tell, but also knowing that she had no choice at that point. "When she told me that she needed us to watch Sarafina, because was going to go see you, I told her to tell you about the job opening at the high school."
Paige smiled nervously, but with a little confidence from knowing the reason that Pam had teased Emily about mentioning the job. "That's actually the job I'm interviewing for," she admitted matter-of-factly.
"It is?" Pam's eyes grew wide. "Does Emily know? Emmy…" Pam started off down the hallway, but Paige gently restrained her with a hand on her shoulder.
"She knows," she assured her.
"I know what?" Emily said, holding Sara's hand as they walked back into the foyer.
"Paige is interviewing for the coaching position at Rosewood," Pam announced, as if it were news.
Emily shook her head with a good-natured smile and a roll of her eyes. "Yeah. I know."
Paige, wanting to spare Emily – and herself – the embarrassment of the moment, reached for her phone in the back pocket of her black jeans. "Let me get a picture of this," she said. "Three generations of the Fields women!"
"Oh!" Pam exclaimed in mild protest, trying to pat her hair into place. She positioned herself behind Emily, as much as she could, because she wasn't dressed for picture-taking.
Once Paige was satisfied with the picture she had taken, Pam took the phone from her hands. "Now, let me get a picture of the three of you," she exclaimed.
Emily held Sara between the two of them, but Sara clung tightly to her, still wary of being too close to Paige McCullers. After all, it was one thing to sing and dance along with Elmo on TV, but any two-year-old could be forgiven for being timid and shy around real, live Elmo. Paige tried not to take it personally, and kept making attempts to get Sara to trust her.
The trio headed off down the sidewalk towards Loard's holding hands, with Emily in the middle. Sara, looking over at her mother holding someone else's hand, quickly ran between the two of them and took her mother's hand away. Emily was about to say something, but Paige smiled to let her know that it was okay. It turned out to be only temporary, though. The next thing she knew, Paige felt Sara's small hand reaching up for hers, and she gladly grabbed it. She winked at Emily and counted, "One, two, three!" – and both of them lifted Sara off the ground on three. It quickly became the child's favorite trick, and she counted out the numbers, to get them to repeat it.
"Sara, honey," Emily said after the fifth or sixth repetition, "Remember Mommy's shoulder…"
Paige winced apologetically, sucking air through her teeth. Emily gave her a smile and a wink, nodding towards her other shoulder, to indicate that she wasn't actually lifting Sara with her sore shoulder. She just needed a little break.
"I heard about that," Paige said guiltily. "Does it still give you trouble?"
"Not unless I over exert myself. Without stretching first."
Paige nodded in understanding. "Stretching and massages have become my best friends over the years."
"I give Mommy massages!" Sara said enthusiastically, happy to have something to contribute to the conversation.
"Yes, you do!" Emily kissed her hand. "You're a great masseuse."
Emily eyed Paige and the way that she was interacting with Sara, who insisted on sitting between them in their booth at the ice cream parlor, although there would have been more room had Sara allowed Paige to sit on the other side. Eventually, Sara was in Paige's lap. This was not the hyper-competitive Paige the rest of the world got to see. Paige was playful, even deferential; fooling around with Sara like a big kid, and letting Sara get the upper hand in their little games.
Emily wasn't too surprised at seeing this side of Paige. She remembered seeing a more tender Paige on more than one occasion, back in high school. Sometimes, when Coach Fulton lit into one of their teammates who wasn't getting the drill or wasn't giving it her all, and the girl ended up over in a corner on the verge of tears, Emily saw Paige go over to talk to her. It wasn't the fist-pumping, "you can do this!" Paige with all of her fire and fury. It was Paige at her most gentle, soothingly rubbing the girls back, putting her fingers beneath the girl's chin to lift it up, eventually getting her to smile again. One time, Paige looked up and saw Emily looking on admiringly as she comforted a defeated swimmer. Paige smiled shyly and immediately looked away, as if embarrassed that Emily had seen her softer side. There were many lonely nights over the years when Emily thought back to those images of Paige, wondering whether that side of Paige still existed – or ever really had existed. She wanted to believe that there was a reason that her heart pined for Paige; wanted to think that her mind wasn't just exaggerating those memories of Paige because she wanted them to be true. There at the ice cream parlor with Paige and Sara, the truth was undeniable. Without overthinking it, she wrapped her hands around Paige's arm and laid her head on Paige's shoulder. Things seemed to be moving fast – and Emily wasn't even sure where they were leading. Still, it felt right.
Sara, seeing her mother so close to Paige, nudged her out of the way as she moved onto the seat between them, surrounding Paige's arms as best she could with her little hands and putting her head on Paige's elbow. Emily smiled at this, and Paige blew her a kiss over Sara's head.
Emily wasn't sure why Sara was claiming Paige the way she was, or what she saw Paige as being to her – friend? Family? Second mother? Sara had never really experienced the concept of a two-parent family. For most of her life, it had just been Mommy, Grandma, and Pop-pop. Whatever Sara's perception was, she was definitely treating Paige like family, but Emily didn't know whether she viewed it as a temporary thing or something more permanent. Emily knew that they would have to sit down and have a long talk about it before too long.
Within a minute, Sara was fast asleep, her head still planted on Paige's arm. She slept on Paige's shoulder all the way back to Emily's parents' house, where Paige handed her over to Pam to tuck her in for the night.
Paige took both of Emily's hands and gave her a long, slow kiss as they stood on the porch of Emily's house. She squeezed Emily's hands when the kiss ended. "Well," she said, "I should probably get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."
Emily smiled and looked down at their hands. Paige gave her hands another squeeze, knowing that there was something on her mind.
"Paige, are you sure that this is what you want?" As Paige was about to answer, Emily swallowed and looked her in the eye, indicating that she had more to say. "It's a bunch of high school kids in a teeny tiny town. It's… fighting with the coach of the football team over money, fighting with parents over the way you treat their little superstars… babysitting teenage girls on long trips to away meets on a bus with broken air conditioning…."
Paige's brow was furrowed in concern. "Emily, do you want me not to take the job?"
Emily huffed out a deep breath, turning aside from Paige. "I just don't want to be the reason you make a decision that you regret later on, after all of the emotional stuff is behind you." She bit her lip. "I just don't want you to resent me for being the reason you gave up on all your dreams."
Paige nodded, to acknowledge that she was giving credence to what Emily had to say. She motioned towards the steps, and Emily joined her sitting there. Paige took her hand and fidgeted with it as she talked. "I've spent a lot of time away from home, Emily" she said in a soft, husky voice. "A lot of time with nothing to do but think about everything. And I know a lot about regret. But the thing I regret the most is not having someone to come home to; not having someone to be home. No one I could look forward to telling about the stupid, trivial parts of my day; no one to tell me all the little things that happened to her. And the more and more I thought about it, Em, the more and more I kept coming back to one thought: You. You're what I think of when I think of home. You're the one I want to come home to; build a home with. The one I want to be my home."
Paige looked deep into Emily's eyes. "And I'm pretty sure you understand what I'm talking about. I mean, you came back to Rosewood, even though you could've gone pretty much anywhere after Stanford." It was more of a question than a statement.
Emily smiled, looking down at her knees. "I tell people that I have the perfect job. I get to do what I love, with people who are involved in the sport because they love it. I mean, let's face it: They're not swimming for Danby because they have dreams of Olympic gold. They're swimming because they love swimming." Paige smiled at that. "And, I get to be around family, and the people I grew up with."
Paige grinned, squeezing Emily's hand. "That's all I want," she said, her voice a loud whisper. Returning to her normal voice, she explained, "I don't know what's going to happen in 10 years – or five years – or even five weeks. But I know where I want to be. And I know that I have to take a shot. I've risked so much more, chasing after so much less. So, I'm not afraid to put it on the line for you, Emily. Everything in life is a risk," she shrugged. "But I'd gladly risk it all for you."
Emily made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cry. Paige couldn't tell which it was. She put her fingers under Emily chin, nudging it upwards. Emily's heart thrilled. She had never been the girl on the swim team who needed the Paige McCullers pep-talk back in high school, but, now that she was the one getting her chin lifted, she truly knew how good it felt. "Who is this Paige McCullers?" she asked softly, almost not sure that she'd said the words out loud.
Paige shrugged, looking away from Emily. "The old Paige McCullers had a lot of growing up to do," she said, turning to look at Emily again. "And I'd like to think I eventually did."
Emily linked her fingers behind Paige's neck, overwhelmed with jubilation that Paige had become the woman she had undeniably become. "You did," she said softly, before she kissed her.
"The thing is," Emily added, pressing her forehead against Paige's, "I've always been attracted to you, somehow. Even back in high school when you were… hiding behind that… big personality." Paige smiled softly and mouthed the word, "sorry."
"Why did it take us so long to get it together?" Emily mused with a pleasant sigh. "Why couldn't we just be who we really were back then, instead of playing all those stupid games?"
"As the crow flies…" Paige squeezed Emily by the shoulder into a side-hug and started to explain. "The summer after fifth grade, my parents took me to a swim camp up in Connecticut. I was so excited about going that I pulled out a map the night before, to find out exactly how far it was and how long we'd be in the car." Paige rolled her eyes at the memory. "I was kind of a geek, back then," she confessed softly. "My Dad had all these old maps from his days as a salesman, before there was GPS. Man, I loved those things," she said wistfully. "I could study them for hours. It was like… an escape."
Emily did her best not to laugh. She could totally see Paige geeking out over her father's old maps. But she didn't want to distract from Paige's story.
"Anyway," Paige continued, "my Dad punched the address into the GPS, and it said it was a hundred seventy-something miles. I told my Dad that it was wrong, because I'd calculated it on the map, and it was less than that. He told me, 'Well, we can't go as the crow flies! We have to go the way the roads are laid out.' I huffed and crossed my arms in my seat, half embarrassed that I had gotten it wrong, and half upset that the trip was going to take longer than I had figured. My Mom looked back and said, 'Well, you might as well relax, Paige! This is the route we have to take. You might as well enjoy the journey!'"
Paige nudged her shoulder against Emily's. "It turned out to be a pretty shitty journey," she admitted, "but we got there. Eventually. And there was nothing we could do about it. Sometimes, we just have to follow the roads, and be glad that we make it to the destination."
Emily nodded, still not happy about the roads they'd traveled, but understanding Paige's point. She softly slapped her hands against her knees and stood up into a stretch, on tiptoes, with her hands reaching high above her head. Old Paige would've had something to say about that display, but not new Paige.
"Well," Emily grunted, pulling her hands down and wide for a hug, "You need to get some sleep. You have to be at your best tomorrow," she teased.
Paige stood, tilting her head before she leaned into the hug. "Boy, there sure is a lot of pressure on me for this interview tomorrow. It's going to be awfully embarrassing if they don't give me the job!"
"Well, if they don't give you the job…" Paige leaned her head in, nudging Emily to come up with something to finish her threat. "I'll… I'll quit!"
"You'll quit?" Emily nodded, mock-seriously. "Your coaching position at Danby?"
Emily finally closed in on the hug she'd started moments earlier. "It's a symbolic gesture."
"Well," Paige breathed, with her head still on Emily's shoulder, "I guess, at least, I'd have a shot at that job, if you quit."
Emily slapped Paige on her shoulder, pointing an accusing finger in her face. "Don't you dare come after my job, Paige!"
Paige smirked. "It's not your job I'm after, Emily."
Emily shook her head and gave Paige a quick kiss. "Go be great," she almost whispered.
Paige laughed on hearing Coach Fulton's old catchphrase, stroking Emily's hair. "God, I forgot all about that!"
"You should've stuck around Rosewood High longer," Emily replied. "You would've heard it a lot more."
"I learned my lesson, Em, believe me," Paige rumbled happily. "This time, I'm not going anywhere."
A/N – Thanks giving this story a shot. I had a hard time coming back to Paily – and fan fiction in general – with the way things went in season 7. It took a couple of kind PMs from some wonderful Paily fans to pull me out of my post-PLL funk. Also, I'm greatly indebted to the very talented authors who kept posting Paily fics and reminding me why fan fiction is so much fun. And so necessary.
(Sorry for getting all dramatic and sappy, but you know how much I love you guys…)
I kind of regret that I wrote this fic right now, because I feel that there could have been more to it than just a one-shot, but, unfortunately, I'm not quite ready to write a multi-chapter yet...
Well, anyway, as always, thanks for reading! :)