A/N: Disclaimer: I don't own Pretty Little Liars or any of the characters. If I did, Emily and Alison would be married and living in Paris together already.

Hi everyone! I got so many positive reviews from my last story, and I just wanted to thank you all! I decided to write a new fanfic; this one will be a lot longer :) It starts off a little slow, but I promise it gets a lot better as it goes on. It's all told in Emily's POV.

I'll try to update as quickly as possible, and I'll be more motivated to do so if I get reviews! Tell me what you'd like to see in the future, and I'll give you shoutouts for your ideas :)

Thanks for reading and ENJOY!

Chapter 1

Today was a long day at school, as usual. Not to mention that I spent a couple extra hours in the pool to get some additional practice.

I would be lying if I said that that was the only reason I swam longer, though.

The truth is, I can't stop thinking about Alison. Her face is engraved in my mind, and her laugh plays in a loop in my head. It's like a broken record. A truly beautiful, broken record.

I was still soaked with chlorine, so a shower was clearly calling my name. My mom was out late working at the police department, but she said I could go over to one of my friends' houses for dinner if I wanted to.

I grab a fresh change of clothes and head to my bathroom. I couldn't wait any longer to get the cold, lingering water out of my hair and off of my body, and become enveloped in the new steamy water.

Once in the bathroom, I turn the radio on my phone. It's a playlist of one of my favorite bands, Circa Survive. Their music always helps me clear my mind. I flip on the hot water, making sure to turn the valve as far as possible for maximum heat.

I get a text right as I'm stepping into the shower, but I ignore it. It's time to clear my mind: showering is the time that I have the deepest thinking, other than when I'm lying awake at night.

I always, always think about Alison. Not in a sexual way, but…

Okay, sometimes it is. The truth is, I'm almost 100% sure that I'm gay. I mean, I do have a boyfriend named Ben, but I don't think that really matters. He's pretty cute and nice, but I just don't feel that same spark around him that I do with Alison. I thought at first that I just had a serious admiration for her, then I thought it was just a phase, and now I'm beginning to realize that I'm full on in love with her.

Where do I even begin to describe her? (A/N: Alison DiLaurentes is flawless. I hear her hair is insured for $10,000. I hear she does car commercials… in Ravenswood. Her favorite movie is Life in Paris: An Emison Story. One time she met Ian Thomas on a plane and he told her she was pretty. One time she punched Paige in the face. It was awesome.)

I've been best friends with Ali since about the seventh grade. I'm really shy, so it was pretty surprising for someone as beautiful as she is to approach me. It's weird; I thought that everyone going through junior high was supposed to be hideous and awkward—I know I was—but she wasn't. Ever since I've known her, she's always been put together and (no joke this time) flawless.

I accidentally get shampoo in my eye and let out a high-pitched squeal. I hate it when that happens. I try to flush it out, but the stinging still remains.

Whatever, moving forward.

I have Alison to thank for a lot of things. She introduced me to a new group of friends; I never thought I would have such amazing friends like Hanna, Spencer, and Aria in a million years. It was almost like she handpicked us to be her followers because we were all so different. Hanna, the funny and trustworthy one. Spencer, the smart and driven one. Aria, the artistic and compassionate one. I'm not sure why she picked me, though. I don't know what I contribute to her, but it honestly doesn't matter to me. I know that I would follow her until my very last breath.

The water starts to run cold so I speed up the rest of my shower. I turn off the water and grab the hanging towel from the shower rod. After wringing out my dark hair, I flip it behind my shoulder and head towards the mirror above the vanity.

The room is really fogged up because I forgot to turn the vent on, so I have to use a washcloth to clear the steam off of the mirror in order to see my reflection.

I look really tired. I have deep purple circles underneath my eyes, which isn't a very good look for me. I definitely will need to invest in some more cover-up in the next few days.

I start to comb my hair when I remember that my phone had gone off earlier. I hit the home button so that the screen lights up.

Hey Em! You should come over :)

-Alison

My heart stops and I drop my towel to the floor on accident. I swallow with difficulty and stare at the text. I can never get used to this feeling. It has to be love; I don't know what other emotion could be this powerful. Flustered, I pick my towel up off of the ground and tie it back around my body.

My phone lights up again, indicating another text. It's Alison again.

Please? 3

I blush insanely and clear my throat. My thumbs shake as I text back my response.

I'll be there ASAP!

I smile to myself in the mirror and shake my head, trying to come back to Earth. I dry myself off to the best of my ability and throw on the new set of clothes. After applying some eye-shadow and mascara, I decide that my appearance is decent enough. I don't have my license yet, so I'm going to have to bike over to her place, which sucks. I hate being all sweaty when I get to her house because she always goes in for the hug and I worry that I smell bad. Recently to counteract this, I've been bringing an extra stick of deodorant and bottle of perfume in my bag, and when I'm less than a block away I freshen up. I hope she doesn't notice that I do that…

I jump onto my bike and head out of the garage. I know the way to Ali's house like the back of my hand. It's only a fifteen minute bike ride and I don't even have to go down any of the main roads. It's pretty convenient that Spencer lives right next door to her, too, so I can visit them both at the same time sometimes.

I feel light and airy; I can't wait to be with Alison again tonight. I saw her a few times at school today, but I have to admit, I was really awkward. I think that's probably why she wants to meet with me—she wants to see if there's anything wrong.

It's just so weird to be around her. I mean, don't get me wrong, I absolutely love it, but I act really creepy. I find myself staring at her even when she isn't talking, which I'm pretty sure is a dead giveaway that I think she's gorgeous. I definitely look at her differently than anyone else in my life, even Ben. She makes my heart feel warm, and suddenly, despite my recent revelation of being gay, I don't feel like an outsider anymore. I know that Ali would accept me for who I am. So why is it so damn hard to tell her that I'm gay?

Sometimes, I even think she feels the same way as I do. She tucks her hair behind her ear and looks up at me in this specific and innocent way. I've never seen her look at anyone else the same way.

Before long, I'm on her front porch. I ring her doorbell feeling nervous. I feel like my knees are going to give out when I hear her feet lightly pattering on the wood floor as she walks towards the door. She swings it open and leans against the doorframe, smiling.

"Hey, Em," she reaches out and lightly grabs my wrist, pulling me inside. "I thought that you would never get here! I'm so glad to see you."

She pulls me into a hug and my legs buckle. She falters a little since my lapse takes her off guard, but she keeps me held upright.

"Rough day at swim practice?" she asks. She leans back out of the embrace so that she can look me in the eyes. She raises her hand and lightly brushes the circles under my eyes. "You look so tired."

"Yeah, uhm," I stutter, not knowing what to say. "Yeah, it's been pretty tough lately."

"Preparing for the big meet? You're so amazing, Em," she smiles wider and links arms with me, leading me off to her room. "You work so hard. I can't wait to see you in action next week."

"Yeah, I've been working hard," I mumble. I'm too enraptured by her smell to think of anything original to say. She always smells like warm vanilla sugar. I want to be forever enveloped by her scent.

"Want me to paint your nails? Braid your hair? Whatever you want," Ali laughs and drags me into her room. She lightly pushes me towards her bed and closes the door.

I can't help but let my mind wander, wishing she had ulterior motives. I flop onto her bed and lean against the bedframe. She follows in suit but sits across from me, crossing her legs. She doesn't have any nail polish or anything with her, though.

"Ali—"

"Emily, I have a confession to make. I didn't ask you here so that I could paint your nails."

"You didn't?" I whisper. My heart is beating a million miles a minute and all of the color has risen to my face.

"No, I—" she hesitates and looks away from me, trying to find a way to phrase her thoughts. "I'm worried about you, Emily. Well, no. That's not it. I'm worried about us."

"Us?" I gasp. I feel like my mind is racing faster than the Daytona 500. There's an us? When did this happen?

"I don't know, Em," she looks down at her hands and rings them. "I feel like you're mad at me for some reason. You keep acting really weird around me, and I've tried to think about what I could have possibly done to make you angry, but I can't think of anything. I thought we were on the same page, but sometimes I'm not sure. You've avoided me occasionally before, but recently it's been gradually getting worse and worse. I can't even talk to you—like right now, for instance—without you avoiding eye contact."

"That's not—" I try to say, but I can't find the words. My tongue feels like it's in a permanent sailor's knot.

She sighs and leans back onto her elbows. She tucks her hair behind her ear and doesn't look at me. I can see a small amount of water accumulating in her eyes.

I clear my throat and wipe my nose. We remain silent, each waiting for the other to speak. I know that nothing is going to happen until I explain myself, but I can't do that. I can't just tell Alison that I'm gay for her and that's the reason why I'm so jumpy around her.

"You used to tell me everything," she finally whispers. "What did I do to make you not trust me anymore?"

I sigh and hang my head. Damn.

"Ali, that really isn't what's going on," I manage to say. She looks back at me and I give her a small smile. "I'm just going through a lot of things. A lot of things that I haven't told anyone about."

She scoots closer until she's basically sitting on my lap.

"Tell me how I can help," she grabs my hands and holds them close to her chin. Her eyes shine like the light reflecting off of the ocean.

"The truth is," I take a deep breath, knowing that when I take this step, I can't take it back. There aren't any 'undo buttons' that actually exist. She looks at me expectantly and squeezes my hands within hers.

"Alison, the truth is that I'm," I bite my lip, "gay."

There's a small, barely noticeable crease in her brows. She is still holding onto my hands, but not as tightly as before. She doesn't say anything; it's like her jaw is clamped shut. She stares at me, her expression unreadable.

I pull one of my hands back from her. She reaches forward, almost like she's trying to take it back. But she doesn't, instead she wipes some of the tears from my eyes. I didn't even realize I was crying, but once I do, it's like opening the floodgates.

Still holding my other hand, she pulls me close into her and into a warm embrace. I openly cry into her chest. With every convulsion, I breathe in her scent.

"I really don't know why you're crying, Em," she says suddenly. Her voice causes me to jump within her arms.

I don't answer with words, only more cries and hiccupping.

"Being gay is nothing to be ashamed of," she tells me firmly. She leans back so that she can have a complete view of my face. She cups it within her hands and kisses my forehead lightly. "I think it's awesome that you're brave enough to admit it. I have so much respect for you, Em."

"Y-you do?"

"Of course I do, sweetie," she wipes my eyes again and brushes my cheek with her thumb. "I'm so proud of you. Thank you for telling me, too. Really. I know it was tough."

I nod. I can feel my face burning and I pray that she can't. She releases my face and folds her hands in her lap.

"Anyways," my voice cracks a little bit, "that's why I've been acting so weird."

"But why is it only around me? Spencer and all of them say that they haven't noticed anything strange, but I definitely have."

My voice gets caught in my throat and only comes out as a small gargle. I suck my cheeks in and try to think of an excuse. My hands start to sweat and I shove them under my legs so that she won't notice.

"Hey," Alison smiles. "Don't worry. You don't have to tell me. You can tell me when you're ready or you don't even have to tell me at all. I'm fine either way."

I nod again and swallow. Her hand is venturing forward towards mine and I close the gap so that our fingers intertwine.

I stare down at her hands and smile to myself.

I had been so scared that if I told Alison about my attraction to women, she would never speak to me again. I exhaled a deep breath I didn't even know I had been holding, and I could have sworn I saw Alison breathe a sigh of relief.

She raises her free hand up to her cascading blonde hair and brushes it behind her ear, giving me the smile that she reserves only for me.