(Labor Day, 2009)
"Are we really doing this?"
"Why wouldn't we be?" Spencer questioned; turning to face where I sat perched on the edge of the bed, and lifting a brow as she paused in the act of applying mascara "It's our last night of freedom before school, and homework, practice—"
"Because when we told her about it, Alison didn't even seem like she was remotely interested in showing up at all" I retorted; scooting back a bit on the bed, and folding my arms across my chest as I watch Spencer manage an eye-roll before turning back to her makeup "What? You know I'm right."
"Yeah, and I also know you're still mad at Ali for what happened before she left to visit her grandma."
"Wouldn't you be?"
"Of course I would, but you two have always worked through these sorts of things before—"
"Those sorts of things were nowhere near what she did before she left" I protested; lifting a hand to shove a few locks of unruly brown hair away from my face, and watching as Spencer inspected her appearance in the mirror above the dresser "And again, I go back to how unenthusiastic Alison seemed when we brought up the topic to begin with."
"Well even if she doesn't show, we can still have some fun with the other girls, right?" Spencer countered; her features softening into a smile as she takes in the sight of her easy victory written upon my own expression. Obviously, she had to have known that she would win even before the entire conversation had ever started. But not even that seemed to be enough to dissuade her from backing in the win, regardless; my own smile toying with the corners of my mouth as I nod, and toss her the tube of lip gloss of my own that I know she adores.
"I hate you sometimes; you know that, right?"
"Just like I know you love me."
"You seem pretty confident in that supposition."
"I am."
Unable to resist the urge to laugh, in spite of my nagging unease over the upcoming evening's events, I haul myself off of the bed, and pad over to the dresser myself, my face screwing up into an expression of moderate disgust as I take in my appearance and exhale in a gust of air. I had not slept very much last night, partly because of my preoccupation with Alison's odd behavior upon her return, and partly because somewhere along the way I had inadvertently downed too much coffee—and that reality appeared to have already taken its toll, if the bags beneath my hazel eyes were any indication…
"You want some help with your hair?"
"It's going to take a lot more than a fancy hairdo to fix this mess."
"Still—worth a shot, right?"
With a nod, I find that I am all too quickly turning back towards the bed, while Spencer grabs a brush and some of the makeup she had just used for herself; another sigh escaping as I take in how eager she appears to be able to help. Of course, I appreciate the gesture, even as much as I recognize its impending futility. And perhaps it is for that very reason that I allow myself to simply close my eyes while my shoulders relax just a bit; the sensation of the foundation brush ghosting along my cheekbones causing me to flinch before I finally give my consent to something I never even had a chance to refuse.
"Go ahead, Spence. Do your worst."
I know I don't really stand a chance at refusing her anyway…
…
"You look tense, Ava. Drink up" Alison cooed; smiling at me as though she has forgotten what happened between us prior to her departure, and shoving a glass of tequila towards me so that I really have no choice but to take it "What's got you so down?"
"Nothing."
"Really? From where I'm sitting, it doesn't look like nothing."
"Yeah, well it is. Can we just drop it already?"
"Ouch. Someone's cranky" Ali pouted; reaching over to nudge my shoulder, even in spite of the way in which I try, albeit belatedly, to move away before she can do so "Maybe you'd better keep that glass all to yourself."
"Am I hallucinating, Alison, or are you trying to get my sister hammered?"
"So what if I am? It's not like you're going to rat us out to your parents, right?"
"I will if you're forcing her to do something she doesn't want to do" Spencer pressed; sharing a look with me that spoke volumes before turning towards the rest of the girls and attempting to change the subject "Did anyone download the new Beyoncé video?"
While the rest of the girls all chorused various replies, and Ali zeroed in on Emily for seeming a bit too eager about the subject matter, I took the time to mouth a silent thank you to Spencer for saving my metaphorical bacon; the smile she gave me in response relieving me at least a little bit, and giving me enough reassurance to take a sip of the proffered tequila. The liquid burned a bit—actually, more than a bit, as it slid down my throat, and caused tears to sting at the backs of my eyes. But somehow, even in spite of that, I couldn't quite bring myself to care; my posture relaxing for the first time since we had all ventured out to the barn as I lean back against the chair I have chosen for the evening, and take another sip.
If only I had known that one sip too many would have rendered me unconscious for the very moment that all of our lives would change, and not for the better…
…
Hello there, my lovelies! And welcome to yet another foray into one more fandom (as if I didn't already have my hands in enough of them, right?) I can honestly say the blame for this little guy falls entirely in the lap of a coworker who got me hooked on PLL a few weeks ago—and you all know me, once I start a new show, the muses usually aren't all that far behind.
As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to each and every one of you that has taken the time to read this initial chapter, and give it a chance! I truly hope that you did enjoy what you found—and I encourage anyone who is willing to leave some feedback on what you thought! Love it? Hate it? I'm anxious to hear, because I'd hate to keep working on something that no one wanted to read.
Until next time (I hope?)
MOMM