Four and Twenty: Chapter 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Pretty Liars. All rights belong to Sara Shepard and ABC Family.
Background: So there was a bit of confusion about the scenario that's going on in this story. That's mostly my fault. Here's the run down: The four of them (Aria, Ezra, Paul, and Hanna) grew up together in Rosewood. Ezra's a few years older than the other three and was their English teacher senior year. However, there wasn't any kind of romantic relationship going on between Aria and Ezra at that time.
Paul, Hanna, and Aria went to NYU for college, and Ezra took a job in the city after learning that Aria was moving there. Paul and Hanna are dating, and have been since senior year of high school. Aria's in love with Paul, and Ezra's in love with Aria.
As of right now, the relationship between Aria and Ezra is purely platonic.
August 2016: For the First Time by The Script
Aria Montgomery was and always had been an early bird. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd slept in beyond eight in the past year, and of those times, three of them had been because she had the flu.
The morning of Friday, August twenty-sixth, was no exception. She woke just after seven, cramped, sore, a bit disoriented, and chilled to the bone, with the belt of her dress digging into the soft area just below her rib cage; all in all, not a pleasant way to wake up. The thought of lying in for another hour was tempting—it was overcast outside, and the slow drizzle of rain upon the windowpane was soothing. But she'd kicked the blanket to the floor, and Ezra's couch wasn't her quilt-top, queen size mattress.
With a quiet groan she heaved herself off the couch. The wooden floorboards were cold against her toes, and she dimly wondered when she'd taken her shoes off. A quick scan of the room revealed that they, along with her cell phone and clutch were sitting in a neat pile on one of the kitchen barstools. She smiled as she realized Ezra's thoughtful gesture; sometimes she wondered if she deserved a friend as good as he. There weren't many guys she knew that were willing to take care of an overemotional, and oft times completely irrational woman at the drop of a hat—especially one who wasn't their girlfriend. But he did, without question and without judgment. She slipped her heels back on, checked her phone for news messages—there were none—and tucked her purse under her arm before tiptoeing towards Ezra's bedroom to see if he was awake.
The door to his room was ajar, and she peeked in to see if her movements had caused him to stir—they hadn't. He lay sprawled across the bed, legs tangled in the sheets, one arm tossed across his eyes to block out light, and the other draped across his bare chest. Aria's relationship with Ezra may have been purely platonic, but even she couldn't deny that he was an attractive man. He was a few inches taller than Paul, too tall she thought, but he sported the same shock of curly black hair and deep blue eyes. Ezra was built like a soccer player, lean and toned, while Paul was sturdier, with arms like those of a football player.
Ezra sighed softly and rolled onto his side, reaching out as he did so to pull a pillow to his stomach. Aria blushed and realized that she'd been staring at him for quite some time—far longer than was required to see if she'd woken him. Pulling his door to quietly, she tiptoed out of the apartment and headed out into the cool New York morning to find a cab to take her home.
Paul Fitz couldn't wait until they were all under one roof—well, until he and Hanna were under one roof, sharing one bed. He'd been trying for years to get her to move in with him, but she'd been adamant; no Aria, no deal. So he'd compromised, as couples were supposed to do, and suggested that the three of them and Ezra get a bigger apartment together—combine their two households into one. His plan worked, they'd all agreed. In two weeks, give or take a few days, he'd be living full time with Hanna, and he wouldn't feel like a guilty child sneaking out of her apartment in the early hours of the morning in an effort to avoid Aria. It wasn't that Aria didn't know what her best friend was doing with Paul, but with the way the apartment was laid out, there wasn't really an escape from the lovers—and that bothered Hanna. And if it bothered Hanna, it bothered Paul.
That's why the roommate idea was so brilliant. The apartment he'd chosen, although none of the others had seen it, was a three bedroom, two and a half bath, spacious place on the Lower East Side. Best of all, one of the bedrooms was on the complete opposite side of the house of the other two. Put simply, he and Hanna could have their privacy. And lest his rationale seem selfish, Paul had managed to convince Ezra that living with Aria put him one step closer to a relationship with her. Ezra would get his girl, and Paul got Hanna. It was logic at its finest, and, as Paul ran into Aria on the elevator of the girls' apartment building, he realized he couldn't wait for moving day.
"Paul."
He nodded and let her exit before he got on. "Aria. How was last night?"
She sighed and he placed a hand on the door to prevent it from closing. "Fine, although you guys should invest in a new couch. My neck is killing me."
These were the moments he felt guiltiest. "I'll look into it."
She laughed, and he relaxed a bit. "I'm kidding Paul. I'll see you later this weekend, alright?"
"Sounds good." He stepped back and watched her walk down the hallway towards the apartment until the elevator doors closed. He really hoped that Ezra got a move on soon; Aria was too great of a girl to let slip away.
While Aria was an early riser, Hanna was most certainly not. Which was why, upon entry into the apartment, Aria was startled by the chipper hello Hanna threw her way.
"Isn't it a wonderful day?"
Aria laughed and set down her things. "What are you on? It's pouring outside. And why the hell are you out of bed? It's just now eight."
"I don't think I've been this excited in a long time. Everything just seems so much…brighter."
Aria cast a curious glance around the apartment. Things definitely weren't bright. The shades were down, and the curtains drawn tightly against them, blocking out what little light was breaking through the heavy clouds. She toed off her shoes and crossed over to where Hanna sat at the kitchen table, munching happily on Captain Crunch.
"Seriously, Han, what's wrong with you?"
Hanna didn't seem to hear her. "Go get in the shower, we have shopping to do!"
Aria sat down at the kitchen table next to her. "We just went shopping yesterday. What is so important to buy that it can't wait until a decent hour? The stores aren't even open yet!"
Hanna grinned and outstretched her left hand towards Aria. "A wedding dress, silly! Paul proposed last night!"
Aria had never really experienced devastation before. She'd lost competitions, experienced heartbreak, plenty of times in her twenty-three years. Nothing compared however, to the gut wrenching anguish she felt as Hanna waved her bejeweled ring finger in her face.
"Isn't it beautiful?"
And it was. The silver band was encrusted with diamonds; with a large princess cut stone set in the center. "Yeah, it is."
"Aria, what's wrong? This is the part where you're supposed to be jumping up and down with joy."
Aria winced, and brought a hand to her forehead. "I have…my head's just killing me right now." She sighed and leaned down to wrap her arms around Hanna in a tight hug. "I'm happy for you, Han. He's a great guy." It killed her to say that, to congratulate her friend on an engagement she wanted for herself.
"I know, isn't he? This ring is perfect, and you know, I didn't even have a clue! So, shower, get dressed, and then we're going to find the best Cinderella style wedding dress in the city."
"Hanna, I'm not really feeling up to that. Do you think we can do it tomorrow?"
Aria watched her best friend's face crumple, and for the briefest moment she felt terrible that she was letting her emotions ruin Hanna's excitement.
"Well, I guess we can. I just really wanted…never mind."
Aria managed a faint smile and pulled away from Hanna. "I'm really sorry. Don't you want to spend the day with," she swallowed hard, "Paul? I mean you only get engaged once. You guys should celebrate."
"I suppose you're right. Do you need anything? Tylenol, water?"
Aria shook her head. "No, I just want to take a shower and get into bed. I didn't get much sleep last night."
Hanna smirked, and Aria immediately regretted the way she phrased her statement. "Any reason why? Maybe a particular, hot, single, English teacher?"
"Sorry Hanna, that's one match that you're never going to make."
"Well, I'm not giving up yet."
Hanna reached for her cell phone, and Aria turned and headed into the bathroom.
Aria had always seen tears as a sign of weakness, a sign that a person had been defeated and some sort of evil had won. So she didn't cry, at least not very often, and certainly not as many times a week as Hanna did. Hanna cried over everything—a lost earring, a chipped nail, bad reality TV, spilt milk. Aria didn't. For Paul however, she made an exception. At that moment, standing beneath the scalding spray of the shower, shoulders slumped and hair plastered to her forehead, crying felt appropriate. Evil had, at least in her viewpoint, prevailed.
She stayed in the shower until the hot water ran out, and even then lingered until the icy temperature became unbearable. Her legs were covered in goose bumps by the time she toweled off, and she wrapped herself in the heavy robe hanging on the back of the door just to feel some small bit of warmth. The tears had made her face puffy, although she was certain if Hanna asked questions she could pass it off as an effect of her too warm shower.
The apartment was empty when she emerged from the bathroom, and for that she was grateful. She felt sick to her stomach, and the headache she'd feigned to escape from Hanna's plans to go dress shopping was quickly becoming a reality. The thought of curling up in bed until the ache in her stomach went away seemed like a promising idea, but considering the way she felt, she'd likely be there for an eternity. Instead, she went through the motions of getting herself ready for the day. She dried her hair, combed it into a loose ponytail, slid on her most comfortable pair of skinny jeans, tugged a tank top over her head, and rummaged in the bottom of her dresser until she found the softest t-shirt she owned. Oddly enough, it was an old NYU shirt of Ezra's she'd borrowed after one particularly rainy afternoon. They'd been walking home from the library when the downpour had started, and his apartment had been closer. It'd been great fun at first, splashing in the puddles like five year old, but as the chills set in, she'd found herself wishing she'd worn something a little more substantial than a dress and thin cardigan. He'd come to her rescue as he always did, tossing her the shirt and a dry pair of sweat pants the moment they'd gotten home. The sweat pants had been given back, the shirt had not. Instead, she'd cropped it, turning the formerly way-too-large garment into a cozy little shirt that hung off one shoulder.
Her phone rang just after she finished dressing, and with another painful lurch she realized it was Paul. She couldn't talk to him now, at least not without making a fool of herself. Pressing ignore, she stepped into her converses and grabbed her wallet off the counter. Curling up in bed may not have been an option, but running away certainly was.
To say that Ezra Fitz was surprised when his doorbell rang just after nine thirty would have been ludicrous. And to say that the person waiting on the other side of said door was anyone other than Aria Montgomery would have been absurd. He answered it just after the first chime, took one glance at her, grabbed his car keys off their hook by the door, and led her by the hand out towards the parking deck.
Twenty minutes later she finally spoke. They'd left the chaos and noise of the city behind and were headed north on the highway, which was, considering it was just after rush hour, fairly empty.
"Where are we going?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper, and she sounded like she was on the verge of tears. Ezra glanced over at her, worried and fearful that she'd break down. He was good at many things; dealing with a crying Aria was not one of them.
"I don't know. Is there somewhere you want to go?"
"No."
"Then we're just driving. By the way, is that my shirt?"
She nodded and sank further into the seat, her eyes fluttering closed and her fingertips drumming out a soft rhythm on the leather of the dashboard. "I hope you didn't want it back. I don't think it'll fit anymore."
He grinned and turned the radio down just a bit. "You can have it. It looks better on you anyway. Besides, that shade of blue isn't really my color."
The giggle he'd been expecting from her at his bad joke didn't come. Instead, she turned her head to look out the window. "Every shade of blue looks good on you."
His heart swelled, and then was crushed moments later when in a voice laced with the sourness of betrayal asked him the question he'd been dreading most. "Did you…did you know he was going to ask her?"
He swallowed thickly. This was one of those hard moments when he had to choose between being honest and telling her something she didn't want to hear, and lying so that she'd feel better. The latter didn't win out. "Yes."
"Did you know he was going to ask her last night?"
"Yes."
He watched her fingers flex against the dashboard, her nails making soft, crescent moon shaped indentions in the fabric. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"It wasn't my place."
Her eyes flew open and she stared at him accusingly. "Yes it was!"
She was angry now, but to him, anger was better than anguish. "You should've warned me, so that when I went home this morning I didn't walk into an insanely giddy Hanna who couldn't wait to flash her GIANT engagement ring in my unsuspecting face!"
"What do you want me to say, Aria?"
She seemed to soften at that, and offered up no response. He pulled off the highway at the next exit and stopped at a small, lone building about two miles down the road.
"Where are we?"
"Your new favorite place." Ezra took the keys out of the ignition and opened his car door. Aria didn't budge. "Are you coming or not?"
She stepped out onto the wet pavement, one eyebrow raised at him skeptically as she surveyed the sign. "Abe's?"
He shrugged. "Don't let the name fool you. They have the best coffee this side of Rosewood, and the books are pretty great too."
Ezra felt relief for the first time that morning as the sadness in her eyes was dimmed by excitement. Bookstores were her weakness. Normal girls liked shoes, and jewelry, and handbags. Aria Montgomery liked books.
Something reminiscent of a genuine smile touched her lips. "I'll hold you to that."
Abe, the owner and namesake of the bookshop was the only person inside. He sat on a stool behind the cash register, his golden retriever Sadie lay by his feet. The dog lifted her head to study the couple as they entered, decided they were harmless enough, and curled back up again.
"Ezra! I haven't seen you in a while."
"It has been a long time, hasn't it? How are things Abe?"
"Well enough, I suppose. Who's your friend?"
"I'm Aria." She held out her hand, and Abe squeezed it gently.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Abe. Are you two looking for anything in particular today?"
Ezra shook his head. "Nope, we just needed to get out of the city for a bit."
The elderly gentleman nodded. "Understandable. Never was able to handle all the hustle myself. Let me know if you need anything." He sat back down on his stool, and Ezra placed a hand on the small of Aria's back to guide her through the shop.
The tension Aria had been harboring all morning seemed to drain as she trailed her fingertips thoughtfully over the spines of the books, pausing every so often to pull one out and skim the first few pages. Ezra trailed behind her for a few moments, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as she grew more and more engrossed by the texts before her. What had started out as a plan to get out of the city had turned into a perfect way to spend a rainy Friday, even if she was still hurting.
He left her alone after a few moments, abandoning the shelves of romance novels in favor of getting a steaming cup of coffee from Abe. The old man was still seated on his stool when Ezra approached. The dog hadn't moved either.
"She's pretty."
Ezra grinned at the sly twinkle in the old man's eye. "That she is. Can I get two coffees, one black and one with sugar?"
Abe nodded. "Sure thing." He turned away to pour the brew from the pot into two mugs. "She's the one isn't she, the girl you talk about all the time?"
"Yeah." He sighed and glanced over towards where Aria had curled up in one of the ratty arm chairs near the window, a book propped open on her knees. "She's the one."
"Something's wrong, isn't it? She seems…broken."
Ezra's shoulders slumped and he took the two cups of coffee from Abe. "She is, or at least she thinks she is. But I think I can fix her—she just has to give me a chance. She needs to give me a chance."
Abe smiled knowingly. "You will. Necessity is the mother of taking chances."
"Did Emerson say that?"
Abe shook his head. "Nope, Twain. And the coffee's on the house."
Ezra wandered back towards Aria, handing her the coffee with sugar before taking a seat on the couch opposite her.
"How do you feel?"
She sipped slowly on the hot beverage for a few seconds before answering. "Better, I guess. It still hurts, but if I don't think about…"
"Don't think about it then."
She groaned and set the book on the small table between the chairs. His gaze flitted over the gold lettering on the spine, To Kill a Mocking Bird, a favorite of hers and of his. "I can't not think about it, Ez. I love him."
He'd heard those words hundreds of times before. I love him. Him as in Paul. Him as in not Ezra. "Aria, have you ever wondered if it's him you love, or if it's the idea of him that you love?"
She furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"
"Look at it this way. He and Hanna have been together for nearly five years now, and in that time you haven't even once tried to make your feelings known to him. Maybe you just like having someone to hold onto."
"That's crazy! Of course I love him."
"Think about it, Aria. What upsets you more, him being with anyone but you, or him being with Hanna?"
Her teeth caught the corner of her lower lip, teasing it, worrying it, until the flesh turned a warm shade of pink. It was a nervous habit, and Ezra knew he was getting through to her. "Him being with Hanna, I guess. She's always been the one with the perfect guy. You know how she is; Hanna trades up, not breaks up. And Paul, well he's pretty damn near perfect."
Ezra ran a hand through his hair in frustration. This was not where he had wanted the conversation to go. "Aria, maybe you should take a chance, get past the idea that Hanna is always going to be the one with the ideal guy."
"Are you saying that I should tell Paul how I feel? That if I tell him how much I care he'll leave her for me?"
Her voice was growing bitter and Ezra regretted even bringing the subject up. This was definitely not the direction he had been aiming for. "No."
"Good, because things don't work like that Ezra. Things don't work like they do in the movies."
He stared at her then, memorizing the way her eyes flashed in anger and her lips quirked into a sad pout. She was beautiful in that moment. She was always beautiful.
"They could." He spoke softly, barely above a whisper, and met her gaze straight on.
For the briefest of minutes he was certain that he'd finally, finally gotten through to her—that she realized he was speaking of them, of Aria and Ezra, not of Paul and Aria. And then, the dog barked and that hope was shattered, as it was every single time.
She stiffened, took another long drink of her coffee and then set it on the table next to her book. "Life isn't a fairytale, Ezra. The sooner I accept that, the easier things will be. I'm going to move on." Aria said it with such determination, with such finality, that Ezra nearly believed her. "Now, can you drive me back? I think I will go shopping with Hanna this afternoon after all.
