Emily hops off her bicycle and chains it to the weathered railing on the porch. She jiggles the lock to make sure the mechanism is in place. Andrew Campbell had his bike stolen from the front yard last week, and Emily has been on edge ever since. She still has at least another year until she can get her license, so until then her red-and-black, with a cool lightening bolt on the side, is her only form of freedom. It only takes a little under five minutes to make it to Ali's house on a good day.
Emily carelessly trots up the back steps, the autumn leaves crunching under her feet, but pauses in front of her reflection coming off the glass on the back door. She tucks a loose strand of hair back into place and combs her eyebrows down with her fingertips. She purses her lips together, wondering if her new Nude Juicy! actually makes her lips look plusher. A small frown crosses her expression. She doesn't believe it does, but the color blends perfectly with her skin tone.
Footsteps sound out from the other side of the door. With the heavy clicking, Emily imagines it has to be Ali. Her mother never wears boots, switching from either junky sneakers to dolled-up stilettos. Mr. DiLaurentis only wears dress shoes, perpetually in a shirt and tie. And Jason is off visiting colleges today for the whole weekend, so that rules him out. She cannot stop a small smile from making its way across her face. Each step is like a musical note. Emily knocks shyly on the sturdy part of the doorway.
"Just a second ," Alison's voice reverberates from inside. It is difficult to peer into the house with the small window, but Emily swears she catches a glimpse of the blonde fixing her hair in the hall mirror. Maybe they are not so different after all?
The heavy steps come back toward the door and Emily takes a quick foot backwards. The door flies open to reveal Alison wearing a black leather mini-jacket with a pink t-shirt underneath, the words, "Girls Rule the World!", sprawled across the front. It is a rare sighting to see Ali sporting a shirt with any kind of writing on it. "Hey Ali," Emily coos, hands curled anxiously into fists.
"Em," Ali exclaims, tugging at the ends of her jacket to straighten them out, "You're early. Everybody isn't supposed to get here for like another hour." Her eyes shift back and forth, only stealing quick glances of Emily. She backs up a few inches, gesturing to the Filipina that she is welcome to come inside. Ali slams the door shut behind her with surprising force. Emily jumps at the starling noise, her eyebrows leaping upwards. "Sorry," Ali apologies, her lips pressed into a line, "The window's open in the other room. The air pressure and whatever else Mr. Dooley taught us last week about weather.
Emily ventures a small smile and replies, spinning around to face the other girl, "It's okay." Ali looks frazzled, not wholly paying attention and too often starring into space. Emily glances around the house, not hearing any sound coming from the rest of it. "Are your parents out of town?," Emily piques, "I can't remember the last time it was this quiet here. Your Dad always has CNN blaring from the den and your Mom is playing music that is much too young for her."
"Yeah," Alison says mindlessly, tousling her hair with her left hand while leaning against the woodwork, "They went up to Connecticut for some romantic weekend." Her eyes snap to meet Emily's and that old Alison flair bursts back to life, as if her system all of a sudden rebooted. She sticks her tongue out, placing a finger in her mouth, and mimicking a retching noise. "Don't they know that old people should give up on doing-it," she adds, "It's just nasty when you're old and all wrinkly.
"I think it's kinda sweet," Emily retorts following Ali into the kitchen, "I'd like to think when I reach that age, I'd keep the romance alive." She settles down on one of the stools, dropping her purse on the side of the counter, resting it perfectly up against the tiled wall. She slips off her jacket onto the stiff wired back of the stool in one fluid motion.
Alison rummages around the refrigerator. "It's different with you Em," she mutters from inside the fridge, "I doubt you'll ever be fuggly." Emily cannot help but beam at the compliment, a tingling feeling running up her leg. Alison whips around, hair whirling and all, and places a grape-flavored Gatorade in front of Emily. "I knew we had one left in there somewhere," she quips, leaning her elbows on the edge of the counter, looking up at the other girl triumphantly
Emily picks up the bottle and rolls it around in her hands. "It's your favorite, right?," Ali questions. "Yeah," Emily simply replies, unsure and taken aback by the small act of kindness, "Thank you." The blonde gives her a satisfied nod. Emily eyes Ali suspiciously as she walks back to the pantry, poking around in it for something to eat.
"So, you're sure it's okay that I got here early?," Emily asks shuffling out of her seat and placing a firm hand on her jacket ready to jet, "I didn't mean to impose. I just got done with my homework faster than I expected. It was the same Greek History my Dad used to read to me when I was little, so I already knew everything by heart. Herodotus, Croesus, Cyrus, Darius… all that jazz." Emily wraps the jacket around her arm, "But my parents were out running some errands, so I really didn't want to stare at the ceiling all alone, and I shouldn't have bothered you by..."
Ali cuts her off mid sentence with a gentle touch on her forearm. "It's okay," she says. The hand stays on Emily's skin for a little too long. It draws Emily's gaze to the blonde girl's face. Without looking up, Alison rubs her fingers up and down the golden tan skin. Silence hangs in the air for the next few moments until Ali breaks it with her soft voice, "You're always so self-conscious. You think your presence is a burden to everyone, like breathing the air is such an imposition to others." The hand finally breaks its contact with the other girl's skin, as Ali's eyes shift to meet the brunette's. "I don't want you to leave," she continues, "I want you to stay with me and keep me company until the other girls get here. Okay?
Emily nods her head and manages to eke out the word, "kaykay," with the blood pounding in her head from the warmth of Ali's delicate fingers. Alison pats her one last time on the arm before spinning back toward the closet. Emily throws the jacket back over the stool, this time more clumsily and carefree, coming around to stand next to her best friend.
"Now, my parents didn't leave us with much in the house," Alison muses as she digs at the snack bags in the back of the deep pantry, "Ah-ha! I found some organic popcorn we can cook in a pot." She raises the bag out from the closet victoriously, waving it in front of Emily's face. She flips it over and scans the directions on the back. Ali points to the corner cabinet and instructs Emily, "Grab the big pot on the bottom shelf with the matching top." Alison moves to get the extra virgin olive oil resting on top of the refrigerator, reaching up on her tiptoes. Emily hands her the pot and Ali drizzles the oil on the bottom, swiveling it around to ensure every inch is coated. She lets Emily pour the popcorn in, tilting the bag at the end to make sure a little more falls in the pot. Bam! The cover goes on and Ali activates the burner, cranking it up to level six.
"Quite the homemakers we are now, huh?," Ali quips, the both of them resting their backs on the granite countertop. She picks a piece of fuzz off Emily's shoulder. "You wanna know a secret," she asks rhetorically, not particularly waiting for a 'yes' from the other girl, "I'm actually a really good cook. Yeah, my mom taught me before I met you. I was only like nine, and having a particularly rough year with… some stuff… but the whole summer she taught me to cook and bake all kinds of things. My apple crumb cake is to die for, and don't even get me started on my red velvet pancakes."
"That all sounds very delicious," Emily says rather clumsily, pretending to listen to the sound of the oil beginning to sizzle in the pot, and not knowing what else to add. Her mind is having trouble processing these flirtatious comments and touches the blonde had been throwing her way. It has got to be her imagination. There is no way Ali is actually into her.
Alison rolls her eyes, dissatisfied at the terse response from the brunette. She slides herself a little closer to Emily, causing her to fidget in reaction. She continues slowly pushing her elbow into her side. "You know, next time you spend the night," Ali says in a low, inviting voice, "I can make you some of the red velvet for you… in the morning."
Rubbing her hands up and down her pant legs to dry some of the perspiration, Emily coos, "I thought you were adamant about not cooking for anyone? You made a point of it. You ridicule Aria for saying she'd like to cook dinners for her future husband. Something about a feminist book you read." The first kernel of popcorn explodes in the pot, drawing her attention. It is soon followed by an army of its friends screaming their battlecries
"Last time I checked, you're not my husband," Ali says with a saucy tongue. She grabs the pot by its black handles and shakes it from side-to-side trying to keep the kernels from burning. With a wry smile she tilts her head towards Emily and teases, "If anything you'd be my wife." She tosses the pot front-and-back this time, playing it cool, before putting it back on the burner, lowering the heat down to number three.
Emily's mouth drops open for a brief second, unable to believe that Ali actually just said that! Blood rushes to her cheeks, turning them a soft pink. She tries to look everywhere but at the blonde. Ali chuckles silently to herself, clearly enjoying the physical response she is able to encourage in Emily.
"You've gotten awfully quiet," Ali pushes the poor girl further. "Is something the matter?," she says with laughter rolling off her tongue. She smooshes her lips into that cute little pout of hers that Emily simply cannot resist no matter how hard she tries.
Emily gracelessly lifts herself up and back onto the granite countertop beside the hot stove. She swings her legs back and forth, stalling for time, not wanting to have to answer the pressing question. "It's not important," Emily finally mumbles out.
Ali boldly wedges herself in between Emily's knees. She rubs her fingertips up and down Emily's stone wash jeans, feeling every curvature of the fabric. Her hands play with the rips Emily purposefully made in them to appear stylish, occasionally brushing over and tickling the bare skin underneath. "Come on, Em," Ali says in the sweetest inflection, "You can tell me what's bothering you? You can tell me anything. I can keep a secret."
Emily holds her head down and says in a small, still voice, "It's just that… sometimes… when you talk to me, it sounds like you're…" The tan girl goes mute not wishing to finish the rest of her thought. Emily grabs Ali's hands and removes them from making contact with her legs, letting them drop to the other girl's sides.
A genuine frown spreads over Alison's face this time. She takes two fingers and cups them under Emily's delicate chin, lifting it up to look into her soulful brown irises. Emily resists for a brief moment but relents to the inevitable. Sooner or later, Ali gets what she wants. Alison's eyes burn like fire against Emily's gaze. It hurts to hold it.
"Why do you talk like... that... and act like... that... around me sometimes?," Emily simpers. The heat coming off of Alison's body is making this even harder than it otherwise would be. The sensation travels through her bones, up her chest and circles around her heart. The mutual oneness of their bodies is a feeling that has the particular power to overwhelm her mind's capacity. A power that makes her want to simply melt into the other girl. But, she knows that it is only a false hope, a silly fantasy, which only finds satisfaction in the dreamwork. Alison could have anybody she wants. Why would she ever choose her shy, meek friend? "I thought you told me that I was just practice," Emily continues to add, as Ali's eyes never leave the contours of her face, "And I don't know why you keep doing things that make it seem otherwise? Sometimes it feels like you just do it to torture me.
Alison's face drops to an even graver expression. She withdraws backwards, slipping out from between Emily's legs. "I am sorry, if my being nice to you has given you the wrong impression," Ali retorts. She rubs her palms together glancing backwards toward the stairs. She shakes her head, biting her bottom lip. Uncharacteristically, her voice falls to a low somber weakness, "It won't happen again." With that she does a 180 and marches up to the second floor without saying another word.
The last popcorn kernel rings out in the dead silence. Emily stares at the empty space where Ali was seconds ago. What did she do? She finally told Alison her worst fear—that she is merely manipulating her emotions for her own sadistic pleasure. Is this over? Is Ali done with her? All these thought rush her mind at once. No! It can't be. They have had fights before. But the look on the blonde's face tells her that this time might be different.
Alison trots over to her bed and flops down head-first, closing the door halfway behind her to provide a modicum of cover for the ignoble retreat. Her tongue swirls around in her mouth, grating against her teeth. She takes deep breaths and turns over on her back, starring up at the rose-colored ceiling. Her hands grab and twist the comforter under her, as if she is wringing its neck. Smack! She slaps her hand against the bed spread. Ali twists her head toward the door absently, her eyes catching site of the white teddy bear, perched on her nightstand, that Emily won for her at a carnival a few months ago
Ring, ring, her cell calls out to her from inside her pocket. Alison reaches, digging deep, and manages to pull it out of her tight-cut jeans. "You have a new text message," the screen reads as she flips open the cover. A lump forms in her throat before she presses "enter" and the views the message: "Tick tock, princess. You're time is running out. Spend your last days wisely, because soon your only friends will be the worms. Love Ya — A".
Alison closes her eyes and rubs her brow with a thumb and forefinger, before letting out an exasperated grunt. She twirls the phone in between her hands, manipulating it adroitly with her fingers as if it were a baton. With a flick of the wrist, she sends it flying toward her door. As soon as she lets it slip out of her grip, she notices Emily's head starting to peak through the door. It is too late, and the cellphone smashes against the wood, breaking into two pieces. Emily lets out a yelp and scurries back.
The blonde bolts out of bed with lightening speed, pulling the door open and clasping her hand around Emily's wrist. The Filipina freezes in place. "I'm sorry," Ali whispers rocking Emily's wrist slowly, "I didn't mean to throw that at you. I didn't know you were there." With that, Alison saunters back into the bedroom returning to her original spot. She takes a pillow and presses it against her chest. Her mind alternates between fear of the threatening text and guilt at Emily's frightened face.
Emily gathers up the courage to make it back inside Ali's bedroom, taking a cautious seat on the edge of the bed. "Did I really upset you that much by what I said?," Emily mumbles in a voice so small.
"Not just you," Alison replies, tossing the pillow to the side, "My phone was being stupid and I couldn't take dealing with it any longer." She scoots down the bed to be a little closer to the brunette. Without realizing it, Ali takes the edge of her shirt collar and begins to chew on it. Emily takes sight of the strange behavior, immediately cognizing it as the regression phenomena she learned about in her Intro to Psych class. Ali must have done this commonly as a child, before they knew her, and is now uses it as a soothing mechanism. Ali drops the collar out of her mouth, once she realizes it has drawn Emily's attention, a slight blush coming over her pale cheeks.
"Is that what you girls think of me?," Ali finally asks, anxious of the answer she is bound to receive, "Do you really think that is what I do? Just mess with you, manipulate your emotions for kicks?" A mist forms in her eyes that she quickly controls with an inhale and a sniffle. Emily simply shrugs her shoulders.
Alison leans in closer so that her hot breath ricochets off Emily's skin. "Is this what you want?," she whispers blowing the scent of strawberry from the gum she was chewing minutes before Emily arrived. "What do you want me to say to you?," she says leaning closer and closer, "Do you want me to whisper sweet nothings in your ear?" Ali's lips are now only a mere three or four inches from the other girl's Nude Juicy! Lips.
Emily leans back to escape from Ali's frightening behavior. This is what Emily has spent nights tossing and turning dreaming about, but somehow the reality is nothing like the fantasy. It appears manic and forced. Ali presses her advance, and Emily runs out of room, her back now lying completely flat against the mattress. The long blonde hair drapes over her bare shoulders taunting them like a strand of ivy. Only the smallest space separates their lips from a kiss as Ali halts. Blue eyes pierce the soul of the brunette
"Tell me you want me to kiss you and I will," Ali tantalizes, keeping her arms on either side of Emily's long body, so she is straddled and pinned down, completely under her dominance. "All you have to do is say the words," she continues teasing the other girl, as the St. Benedict Crucifix grandma gave to protect her from evil falls onto Emily's chest, "You're completely in control of what happens next. I won't do a thing without your word."
"God Ali!," Emily shouts, as she begins to hyperventilate. She tries to push the unhinged girl off her, but Ali has her in the perfect position, unwilling to let go. She pushes and pushes, but it is to no avail. "Please Ali, just let me go," Emily says panicked through tears. Immediately, Alison relents her grip on Emily, allowing Emily to effortlessly toss her aside.
Emily wraps her arms tightly around her sides, feeling a bit violated, but she doesn't move off the bed. Ali simply lays in the same position Emily tossed her in, as if she was plastic clay unable to move under its own power. After heavy moments of silence, Ali piques with a tender voice, "I'm sorry, Em." She pulls herself back upright. "I don't know what came over me… I didn't mean to…", she trails off. Ali circles her thumb and forefinger around Emily's wrist, bouncing it up and down. No response comes from the Filipina.
The sound of birds perched up on the gutter breaks its way in from the open window; probably the family of cardinals that has been hanging out by the bird feeder. "I don't know what to do to make this better," Alison coos, the thoughts of A's menacing text still fresh in her mind. She pushes forward on the bed so she is sitting next to her friend. When Emily still refuses to look her in the face, purposefully diverting her eyes away, Ali bursts out in an half-annoyed, half-worried tone, "Do you want me to walk you home? I can cancel the evening, tell the girls that you weren't feeling well… throwing up or something."
"I think that might be for the best," Emily mutters, getting to her feet. Without giving the blonde another moment, she simply trots out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Ali stares against the floral pattern on the dresser before hopping onto the floor and pursuing an uncannily upset Emily. The girl never reacted this badly even after she said she was merely practice in the locker room. Or, maybe Ali never paid attention.
When Ali makes it to the bottom of the steps she finds the other girl all dressed with her jacket on and bag already slung over her shoulder. Ali knows she can push the girls to unbelievable lengths. They are nothing without her. She made them and she can break them just as easily. She can use everything that has happened between Emily as blackmail and force her to stay. For her to kiss her again, even. She is sure Mr. and Mrs. Fields would just love telling their congregation that their daughter loves making out with the hottest girl in school. Yet, all the fight is taken out of her today. She had fought with Jason earlier this morning, and the increasingly scary A messages are making her appreciate what she has in life a little more, if only for a split second. Maybe just for today, she can treat her friends like friends instead of puppets.
"You don't have to walk me home," Emily tells her fiddling with the strings on the end of her jacket, "I came on my bike and I think it's best I ride home." Ali moves forward so that she is closer to the door in case Emily decides to bolt without a proper goodbye. "At least let me walk you out," Ali interjects grasping for anything Emily will let her do. Her sullen friend just gives a small nod in reply. Alison holds open the backdoor letting Emily pass through.
Emily bends down and unlocks her bike from the porch railing. Ali stands by watching, her arms folding over her chest, caught between anger and loss. Just as Emily is about to swing her right leg over the bike seat, Ali ekes out, "I wish you didn't have to go." She clamps her mouth shut, wishing she hadn't shown such weakness. But what's done is done. She descends the porch steps and stands next to Emily, "Forget what I said a minute ago. I really want you to stay." Ali places a kind but firm hand on Emily's forearm. Her eyes rest in the other girl's eyes, "Just come back inside and sit with me on the couch for a while."
Alison extends her hand, like a prince asking the princess to dance. Emily returns with a slow and cautious nod, leaning her bike back against the railing, and taking Ali's hand. Alison flips around and leads Emily back inside the warm and comfy house. With the words coming off of Ali's lips, Emily completely ignored re-chaining her bike, not caring if she left it to the mercy of the heinous bike thief.
The two girls plop down on the couch next to each other, not saying a word, but merely trying to refrain from any further awkwardness. Ali grabs the clicker and turns the channel to a new episode of Say Yes to the Dress, taking brief glances at girl beside her. It is a show the two of them watch together when none of their other friends are around.
Halfway into the episode, on the commercial break, Emily places her feet on the floor and pushes herself up with both hands. Ali gives a worried glance as if she were about to bolt again, but Emily calms her fears, "I'm just gonna get the popcorn we made earlier." When her back is turned from Ali, a smile breaks its way across her face. She cannot help but feel joyful that Ali is so obsessed with the thought of losing her today. And, it gives her hope that her feelings are not wholly one-sided, but that there is a slim chance Ali might like her too.
Emily takes a big salad bowl from the top shelf and pours all of the popcorn into it. She throws a piece into her mouth before grabbing the grape Gatorade and coming back to sit beside Ali. Emily offers the bowl to the blonde, but she waves it away with her hand. Emily is careful not to put the bowl between them as a wedge, placing it on her other side instead. She cracks open the top and takes a swig of the Gatorade.
An idea pops into Ali's head, a devious smile coming over her visage. She reaches for the snack, leaning across Emily, and timing it for the precise moment when Emily's hand is also in the bowl. She makes sure her skin brushes the other girls' while she lingers in picking out a handful. Emily's hand freezes at the feeling of the blonde's touch, and her eyes shyly glance up and down the perfect body that is currently arched over her own. Ali retreats as quickly as she charged forward, trying not to smirk, and definitely avoiding eye contact. Subtle is the key to her stratagem.
Ali pretends to be fascinated by the new dress this chubby bride-to-be is getting fitted into, but secretly notices Emily watching her out of the corner of her eye. "Do I have something on my face?," Ali teases without breaking her false focus on the television screen. Emily quickly snaps back to watching Say Yes to the Dress muttering, "Sorry" which is met with a giggle from the queen bee. She tilts her head and retorts to the brunette, "I don't blame you for being mesmerized. I have that Greek goddess quality about me."
Emily lets out a girlish chuckle, unable to to resist Ali's self-confident charm. "How do you ever tear yourself away from yourself in the mirror every morning?," she says deciding to be a little bold in flirting with Alison. "I'm not going to lie to you Ems," Ali quickly comes back, "It's a struggle every morning. I really sympathize with Narcissus in the mythology. I know his pain." She overacts clutching her heart and falling against Emily's shoulder.
Emily's hand is now resting on top of Ali's knee, getting bumped down onto it when the blonde crashed into her. Ali moves with alacrity to a lace her naked fingers through Emily's beautified fingers painted a dark-red. "You always cut yourself short," Ali purrs rubbing her thumb in a circle on the back of Emily's hand, "You think you're this nobody, this not-it who is lucky if she gets the crumbs from the masters table." Ali bends her head backwards to look up at the brunette's caramel cheeks. "I don't waste my time with nobodies," she reassures, "I don't save grape Gatorade that tastes like pukish cough syrup for nobody's because its their favorite." Emily smiles widely from that last line. Alison habitually performs the little niceties for her that she would never do for the other girls, whether it is bringing back souvenirs from vacation or knowing exactly what brand of snacks to get when Emily comes over—Chunky Monkey for ice cream and the Herr's sourdough bite size for pretzels, which she specifically mentioned Spencer should pick up on her way over here, being she was stopping by the supermarket anyway.
"I know I promised I wouldn't do anything without your word," Ali coquets, still starring up into those big brown eyes, loving the feel of the brunette hair titillating her cheek as it dangles against it, "But I really wish you kiss me right now." She swallows hard, betraying the fact that no matter how confident her face appears, underneath the veneer, she is truly frightened about being rejected. Ali could be absolutely stoic if this was some random guy, but losing Emily's affection would shatter her to pieces. That is why she could not risk pigskin getting close to her. She couldn't stand there and watch Emily kissing another girl. If Emily pressed an ear against Ali's neck, she would surely be able to hear the heavy, dreading beat of her quickening pulse.
Ali's eyes close in anticipation, her eye lids vibrating ever so slightly. A few moments go by with nothing. Just as she is about to reopen them, Ali feels a breath cascade across her face and plush, full lips pressing against her own. It is soft and it is chaste, but it is overwhelming. Ali presses back up against Emily, who is towering over her. Ali's eyes do not open as she pulls back an inch to take a deep breath. When she goes back in for another kiss, her mermaid's lips are no longer present.
The blonde opens her eyes and finds Emily a little further removed from her on the couch, chewing on her bottom lip—her eyes wide and dilated. Alison places her arms around the sides of Emily's midriff. "It's okay," she whispers as she inches closer to the other's lips, touching them so gently. She hushes against them, "I'm scared too. But, right now, there's nowhere I'd rather be, or anything I'd rather be doing, or somebody I'd rather be with." She nods against her. Emily holds on to the back of her head, closing her eyes, and deepens the kiss. "Don't think," Ali continues to mumble, "Just be."
The swimmer cannot help but burst into a fit of laughter. Ali tries to keep the kiss going, but she cannot do it with the other girl cracking up. She lets out a laugh herself and questions in a fake pissy tone, "What? What did I say?"
Emily waits a minute until all the chuckles are out of her system, and answers, "Don't think, just be… what are you Confucius?… or Yoda?" A few more giggles escape her lips. Alison rolls her eyes and defends herself, "Hey you are kind of Asian so it was still apropos.
"My family is from the Philipines," Emily plays with her in the cutest singsong, "We're Catholic, the same as your family, even if you are a heathen." She taps the crucifix around Ali's neck, and adds with a grin, "Such a racist."
"Whatever," Ali says granting Emily another one of her classic eye rolls. "Just come here," she commands, pulling the Filipina by the scruff of the collar into another kiss. Ali's lipstick smears a little over the ridge of her upper lip. "You taste like strawberries," Emily boldly proclaims. Ali runs her hands through long brunette locks before eking out breathlessly, "I know strawberry is your favorite fruit." Ali moves her kisses down Emily's jawline and works all the way over to the pulse point of her neck.
The sound of a doorknob turning causes them to immediately jump apart from one another as if they were on fire. "Hey, Ali!," Spencer announces cheerfully as she scrubs her shoes against the junky throw run. She is soon followed by Aria and Hanna, who wave with big smiles cut across their faces. Ali and Emily have that deer-caught-in-the-heads look about them. Spencer spots Emily frozen next to Alison and states, "Oh, Emily, we didn't know you were already here. We tried texting you, but you never got back to us."
"For the record," Aria announces placing some groceries on the kitchen island, "I wanted to stop by your house to come pick you up, but somebody," she glances at Hanna, "Didn't want to walk the few extra blocks".
"It's cold outside," Hanna justifies, overacting by rubbing her hands together, "Besides, she got here didn't she?"
Ali smacks her palms against the couch cushion and hops to her feet. "It's fine you guys," she adjudicates, "Emily just got here a few minutes before you, so it's moot."
"What's moot?," Hanna whispers into Aria's ear, causing the other girl to chuckle, not thinking it is worthy of an actual answer.
Ali marches over to attend to the packages on the island, pulling out the bag of Herrs' bite sized pretzels along with the chunky monkey, waving them so they catch Emily's eye. Hanna swerves around the coffee table to join Emily on the couch, and she instantly notices red stuff smeared over her neck. "Hey, what's that on your neck?," she asks in a suspicious register.
Emily self-consciously tries to wipe off the proof of Ali's affection, letting out a bunch of "Umms." Ali swoops in to the rescue, and gently smacks Hanna on the back of the head. "She's obviously been making out with Ben," Ali declares with a saucy flair, "Some of it got on his lips, and she's too embarrassed to admit it." She injects herself in between Hanna and Emily as a buffer and places a gentle touch on Emily's knee.
Spencer points at Emily's lips and states the obvious, "But she's not wearing that shade of lipstick." Her gaze travels over to the red smudge on Ali's lip. "And why is your lipstick all messy?," she says with a raised eyebrow.
"What are you, a detective, Spence?," Ali growls, "Don't pick on Emily today. Okay? She's off limits."
"I wasn't…" Spencer replies dejectedly, "Sorry, Em. I didn't mean to."
Emily nods and gives her a forced smile. Without the other girls catching sight, she mouths the words "thank you," to Ali. "So should we watch a DVD?," she says loudly to the group as a whole, trying to move on from any further discussion that will get them caught.
Ali leans forward and grabs a copy of Kung Fu Panda off the coffee table from under some newspaper. "Em has been bugging me to watch this," she says, "I picked it up in the store last weekend." She is met with a bunch of approving nods and a "I love Jack Black," from Aria. Ali hands it to the petit girl who places it in the DVD player, switching the input from cable to component two.
"And the couch is only big enough for two," Ali says matter-of-factly, pushing Hanna onto the floor below them, who silently mouths, "Owww" at being dropped with a thud. Ali winks at Emily and rests against her shoulder, curling up against her and draping her feet over Emily's legs. Ali sneaks a quick peck onto the other girl's cheek before they both turn their attention to the movie. Yet, Emily cannot keep that sheepish grin off her face.