And we're back with chapter two! Thank you to everyone who left reviews, it was great to get some feedback! I'm glad you're all liking the concept of this story and how it's going so far. I was a bit confused by the review demanding Spoby, though, unless that was meant to be a joke...? There's really no reason at all for there to be any Spoby in this story, so I'm afraid you'll have to look elsewhere for that.

I hope you all enjoy this second chapter. Again, please drop me a review to let me know what you think!

Emily

Emily wondered what it felt like to be in love. She'd wondered for months, really, but the thought was especially present now, with Valentine's Day looming just days away. Even Madame Fontaine had decked out the French classroom in pink and white paper hearts.

As she took her seat in the very center of the room, Emily tore her gaze away from the Valentine's Day décor and glanced around at her classmates. Riley Wolfe tossed her hair and laughed as she placed her hand flirtatiously on James Freed's arm, a move that looked totally natural, but that Emily knew would seem awkward and probably kind of creepy if she tried it. In the back of the classroom, a group of girls was clustered together, staring at one of their cell phones. "This is the dress I'm wearing to the dance," the girl holding the phone announced. "He said he thought I'd look totally hot in it." Her friends all squealed in response.

Emily turned away, twisting her pencil between her hands, just as Alison DiLaurentis breezed through the door. All at once, it was as though a slight hush fell over the room. Emily felt her stomach turn over.

She'd spent the better part of the year staring at the back of Alison's head instead of conjugating French verbs. It was hard not to. Ali had that effect on people. She was beautiful, mysterious, and although she ruled Rosewood Middle School with an iron fist, for some reason that didn't deter every single member of the student body from desperately wanting to be her friend…Emily included.

She wasn't sure what Alison had that the rest of them just simply didn't, but she felt herself getting jittery every single time the blonde walked into the same room as her, or even so much as glanced in her direction. She was sure that everyone else had to feel the same way – Ali was like a constantly moving magnet, drawing everyone toward her but not quite letting them get close enough to touch.

But that was all Emily wanted. She watched as Spencer Hastings, Alison's new best friend, leaned over and showed Ali something on her phone. Ali cracked up, and Emily's stomach swirled enviously. What she wouldn't give to sit beside Ali in class, to slide onto the bench beside her at lunch, to braid her hair during sleepovers…

"Bonjour, élèves," Madame Fontaine greeted, breaking Emily out of her daydream. She sat up straight, glancing down at her notebook and realizing with a jolt that she'd been absentmindedly tracing Alison's name in swirly cursive, over and over on a blank page. She flipped the notebook shut quickly.

"Today you'll be beginning your projects on la Saint-Valentin – Valentine's Day," the teacher went on, writing the phrase on the white board. "You'll be assigned partners, with whom you will create a presentation on France's connection to the holiday. I want you to include history, key vocabulary, and Valentine's Day traditions. Next week you and your partner will present what you have found to the class. All en français, please." The class groaned. "Now, for your partners."

She picked up a sheet of paper and began reading off names. Emily zoned out until she heard the sound of the French name that she'd chosen at the beginning of the year. "Eloise, you will be partnered with…Adele."

Emily's head snapped up. Immediately, her heart began to pound in her ears. She admittedly wasn't very good at remembering all of her classmates' French names, but she could never forget this one – Adele was Alison.

"Who's Eloise?" Alison said from the front of the room, turning around in her seat and scrunching her nose.

James Freed's hand shot into the air. "I am."

Ali rolled her eyes. "You wish."

He gave her a cocky grin in return. "Yeah, I do."

Emily cleared her throat, which suddenly felt bone dry. She lifted her hand. "Um, it's me."

Alison surveyed her with slightly pursed lips as Madame Fontaine continued assigning partners. After what felt like a million years, she offered a half-smile and slowly turned back around.

Emily felt her cheeks burn. What had that look meant? Was Alison mad? Did she wish she'd been given another partner? Like Spencer, her best friend and she smartest one in the class. Or one of the cute boys.

But when Madame Fontaine instructed them to spend the rest of class working, Ali slid into the vacated seat beside Emily with no hesitation. "Hey," she said with a smile. Her eyes flitted down to the string bracelet on Emily's wrist. "Cute bracelet."

Emily instinctively wrapped her hand around it. It was blue and white, the school's colors, and had been given to her by one of the members of the swim team. She felt herself blush. She was used to receiving compliments from people like her parents and her teammates, but never anyone like Alison. "Um, merci."

Ali flashed her another bright smile. "That reminds me, your French accent has to be, like, the best in the class. I bet Madame Fontaine loves you."

Emily could have sunk right through the floor. "Yours is really good, too," she replied shyly. It was true – with her perfect, lilting accent, she actually made putting effort into French class look cool.

Alison flipped her hair over her shoulder and lazily opened her French textbook to the section on holidays. "I'd love to spend a year in Paris. Trade in eating mystery meat in the cafeteria for croissants on the Eiffel Tower."

Emily smiled. She wanted to tell Ali that she was pretty sure schools in France had cafeteria food, too, but instead she just ducked her head and murmured, "That would be amazing." She glanced up. Madame Fontaine was staring at them, and nodded in the direction of the textbooks on their desks, a clear indication that they needed to get to work. Emily reddened. There was nothing she hated more than anyone feeling disappointed in her. She turned abruptly to the book. "We should start looking up some Valentine's Day vocab."

Alison shot a look over at the teacher, too, then flipped lazily through a few pages of the text, looking bored and unconcerned. "So," she said after a moment, "are you going to the dance on Saturday?"

Emily was so surprised by the question that she turned the page too roughly and nearly ripped it right out of the spine. The last time she'd spoken to Ali had been weeks ago, when she'd accidentally bumped into her in the hallway. She'd sputtered out an apology, and Ali had snickered with her friends and made a snarky comment about Emily having two left gills.

Emily hadn't been too bothered by the comment – she was just thrilled that Alison DiLaurentis had spoken to her at all, much less known that she was a swimmer. But beyond that, she clearly hadn't been on Alison's radar at all back then. Why was Ali suddenly so chatty and…actually nice? Was she just making any excuse to get out of doing work? Or did she suddenly see Emily as someone worthwhile?

Feeling a pang of excitement at the possibility, Emily attempted to answer evenly. "I'm not sure. I've never really been to a dance before."

Alison widened her eyes slightly. Emily tried not to stare. They were even bluer up close than she'd realized. "You can't be serious."

Emily gave a little shrug, suddenly embarrassed. She'd never been into dancing or dressing up, and it had never bothered her before. Some of her teammates didn't go to the junior high dances, either. But now she felt self-conscious. Was it weird?

She attempted to laugh it off, play it cool. "I guess I'm just not super into dances," she admitted.

"Well, how do you know that if you've never been to one?" Alison asked, tilting her head and pouting a bit.

Suddenly, Emily could barely look at her. She averted her eyes, staring straight down at the unfamiliar French words on the page in front of her. Her stomach lurched, and for the first time, the thought flashed through her mind that maybe everyone else didn't feel quite like this in Ali's presence.

"I-I don't," she said in a hoarse whisper, her throat dry. "But – "

"You should think about going," Ali interrupted, smiling. She shifted, so close now that Emily could feel her breath. "I'll be there."

Emily felt frozen to her seat. Her chest was tight, like she was a wind-up toy wound too far. She could barely breathe, and the rush of emotion running through her was unfamiliar, kind of thrilling…and also terrifying.

She's just being friendly, she told herself sternly, trying to hammer the words into her brain as she stared back at Alison. And you're excited that someone in the popular group is being nice to you. That's all.

Is it? a much smaller, taunting voice in the back of her head responded. If Emily really thought about it, she realized that this wasn't the first time that voice had spoken up. She'd just always pushed it away.

And she was just about to do the same now when Alison suddenly raised her eyes to something just behind Emily. Then Madame Fontaine spoke, and the unexpected sound of her voice nearly scared Emily right out of her seat. "Filles."

Emily whirled around to see their teacher standing beside their desks. Her arms were crossed and her mouth was turned down in displeasure. "This is French class, not social hour. And since you haven't seemed to get much work done on your presentation this period, I suppose you'll have to come in at the end of the day to get it done."

Emily's heart dropped like a stone into her stomach. Was Madame Fontaine implying that she was going to give them detention? She had never so much as been given a warning look by a teacher before.

She glanced at Alison out of the corner of her eye. The blonde was gazing up at Madame Fontaine with clear disinterest, looking completely unfazed. That should have stopped Emily from what she was about to do next, but the words came spilling out of her mouth before she'd even processed them. "It's not her fault, Madame. Ali – um, Adele – was trying to work. I kept distracting her."

The French teacher raised an eyebrow in obvious disbelief. Alison stared at Emily, her mouth open slightly. Across the room, Spencer was watching, her eyes wide. Emily plowed ahead. "It was only me. I swear."

"Eloise." Madame Fontaine dragged her name out slowly, frowning. "That's disappointing to hear. You know that I expect more from you."

Emily bowed her head, her cheeks flaming. She could feel everyone's eyes on her. "I know."

"Since you haven't given me trouble all year, I'll leave you with a warning," Madame Fontaine said, her voice taking on a gentler tone. "There are still fifteen minutes left before the bell. If I hear one more off-topic remark from either of you, I'll be changing my mind."

"Merci," Emily breathed. She watched, her heart beating frantically in her chest, as the teacher crossed the room to answer a question from another student. She couldn't believe she'd just done that.

She turned slowly back to Ali, who looked like she felt the same way. Ali narrowed her eyes slightly, as if she was really seeing Emily for the first time. "Wow. What made you do that?"

The words felt frozen in Emily's throat. It wasn't like this was the first time someone had sacrificed something for Ali, for no good reason. Emily had seen kids happily doing her homework for her, or letting her cut in the lunch line so she could get the last slice of pizza. But this felt different, somehow. More personal, maybe.

She had no idea what to say, so she just shrugged and went back to the textbook without a word, aware of Madame Fontaine's eyes on her.

Alison cleared her throat, and Emily couldn't help but glance back over at her. "That was really cool of you," Ali whispered, giving Emily a dazzling smile. "You should join Spencer and me for lunch today."

Tingles shot through Emily's entire body at her words. She forced a nod and a smile in return. Then she turned away, but as she relished in the sudden warmth that was spreading through her, it occurred to her that maybe she was starting to understand what it felt like to be in love, after all.