A/N: Hi everyone! Thank you so much for reading, and special thanks to the reviewers (including the guests of course, too bad I can't answer you personally like I do for the other reviewers).
I guess pretty much everybody (not only Emily!) is mad at Paige right now, and it's perfectly understandable. And the story is from Emily's POV (for now), so...
But just so you know, I LOVE Paige (she's my favorite character in PLL, by far) so I will never make her "the bad guy". Not for too long anyway! :)
Also, a big shout out to my betareader siophiefandom who did an awesome job, as always!
When Paige McCullers needed to think things through, she put on her best running gear and went jogging along the beautiful shaded areas of Stanford. The university campus was perfect for that - truth be told, the campus was the perfect place for everything, period. Paige couldn't have hoped for a best place to live in and study. Absolutely everything was top-notch. The classes, the teachers, the facilities - especially for the athletes- like Paige, who was still marveling at the pool complex.
But despite all that, Paige McCullers wasn't happy. Since her arrival in Stanford, her time had been divided between intensive training (in the pool, in the gym, and on the running tracks) and her classes. In short, Paige had immersed herself in Stanford as she would have immersed herself in religion. She was working harder than she had ever worked. It had yielded positive results, of course, in both fields - academic and athletic.
But it had done nothing to diminish Paige's feelings of loneliness and emptiness. Paige had willfully withdrawn from all the social activities that were part of the overall student experience. She wasn't involved in any clubs, she wasn't socializing, she wasn't dating or even hanging out with friends.
Indeed, that Sunday brunch in San Francisco was the first time that she had accepted an invitation to go out with her roommate, Heather, and a few other students.
And it had been a mess. After her confrontation with Emily in the back of the Blue Bird Café, she texted her roommate to tell her that she wasn't feeling well and was going back to Palo Alto. Heather, who had convinced Paige to go out and have some fun for once, had texted her back a few minutes later. Her answer was short: "Okay, do what you want." She wasn't going to make the mistake of asking her again, that was for sure.
That afternoon, the weather was getting worse, the morning sun long gone. A cold wind was blowing, announcing the end of fall. Paige was only wearing a tank top and her sports shorts, but she didn't care. She wasn't afraid of the cold - she was used to feeling it every day, deep inside her body, deep inside her heart.
Paige ran along the tennis courts, the hockey and the softball fields, and then reached the football stadium. Her stride was unusually tensed, her breathing less steady than it had been in the days before. She was trying to concentrate on her pace, but her mind was focused on only one subject. Emily.
Usually, physical activity and the endorphine high that followed allowed her to feel if not relaxed, at least less stressed out. But not that time. It wasn't working. After almost an hour of intensive running, Paige eventually gave up and decided to head back to her room in Wilbur Hall. Her head down, her breath short, she quickly climbed the stairs to the second floor and entered the room she shared with Heather. Her roommate was there, lying on her bed, a book propped up in her hands. The blonde girl turned her head to look at Paige.
"So?" she simply asked.
Paige shrugged. "I've been running."
"I can see that," Heather said. "I meant this morning. When you just, kind of disappeared. What the hell, Paige?"
The tall brunette shrugged again.
"It's no big deal. I wasn't feeling well. So I left."
"All of a sudden? Like that? You seemed fine just a minute before."
Paige didn't answered, and Heather snorted.
"Okay, McCullers. Forget I asked. But just so you know, the guys were really upset. Especially Mike."
Paige sighed deeply. "What is it with him? I told him many times that I'm gay."
Heather smirked. "Well, he knows that you are. But he won't give up. He's stubborn, just like you, McCullers."
The blonde girl got up and came near Paige, who was sitting on her own bed with a blank look.
"Seriously, Paige, are you okay? You seem weird. I mean weirder than usual."
Paige closed her eyes and sighed internally. Her roommate already thought that she was a weirdo, a total misfit. The incident that morning was another proof, as if she needed any.
"I don't want to talk about it, Heather. But I'm okay. Or I will be."
"If you say so," Heather replied, not sounding convinced at all. "But it's a shame. Your first Sunday brunch in San Fran... the food was great, by the way. Especially the pancakes."
"Good for you," Paige said shortly.
"But the service was poor," Heather went on. "They made us wait for a while. We had to ask for coffee twice. And our waitress was glaring at us with disapproving eyes the whole meal."
Paige stiffened at these words.
"The waitress?"
"Yeah. That blonde chick, Rebecca. We didn't leave any tip for her. She didn't deserve one."
"A... a blonde girl? Rebecca?"
"Well, that was the name on her name tag," Heather said, frowning. "You're getting weirder, if that's even possible, McCullers."
"I'm gonna shower," Paige said, before getting up and leaving the room quickly. Once in the bathroom, she realized that she had forgotten her shower bag in the room.
Monday had started roughly for Emily Fields. She hadn't heard her alarm clock go off, but her roommate had. Grace had thrown a pillow at her in frustration, startling Emily, who had grumbled a few choice words at the other girl. "You have Sociology class in half an hour," Grace had stated curtly, before heading to the bathroom.
By the time Emily made it to the shower, there was no warm water left, so she had to take a very quick cold shower, and she didn't have time to wash her hair.
She had only eight minutes to make it to class, and not enough time to have breakfast. So she just grabbed a coffee at the nearest coffee stand. Taking a sip, she had the displeasure of realizing that the barista had put some milk and sugar in it - even though she had ordered a tall Americano, black. Grumbling, she threw the cup into the nearest trash can and made a beeline for the classroom, entering just in time. Of course, all the back seats were already taken. She'd have to sit on the front row, which she hated.
Two hours later, Emily grabbed her belongings and headed out of the classroom. She checked her cell phone and saw that she had missed four calls from Hanna.
"What, doesn't she ever have class?" Emily mumbled out loud. Hanna was a freshman at a fashion school in New York. While the school was renowned, her schedule seemed to be... not very challenging, to say the least.
Hanna had left a very short voice message: "Call me back Fields, and pronto."
Sighing, Emily pressed the call back button. Hanna answered on the third ring.
"Em! Perfect timing! I'm having lunch outside, the weather is glorious here. Who needs sunny California?"
"Me, I guess," Emily answered. "It isn't too bad here either, by the way. But I suppose that you didn't call me to talk about the weather?"
"No, of course not Em. I just wanted to know how my best buddy was doing. You know, after..."
"After what?" Emily cut her short.
"Well, you know, after your... encounter with, um..." Hanna seemed to choose her words very carefully, which wasn't her at all.
"I see that you know," Emily said. "Spencer already spread the news. Of course."
"Em, it's not... I mean, she worries about you. We all do. Aria, Spencer and I."
"Why? Because I crossed paths with my ex? No biggie."
"Oh, come on Em. It's not a random ex. It's Paige," Hanna countered.
"Oh, so now you can say her name," Emily said wryly.
After the break-up, Hanna had taken Emily's side. She had cut all ties with the auburn girl, deleting her phone number from her contact list, and not wanting to hear anything about Paige McCullers anymore. What Emily didn't know was that Hanna had also sent several inflammatory emails to Paige.
"Emily," Hanna resumed. "Spencer said that you were really upset, so..."
"I'm okay, Hanna. Really," Emily said in a softer tone. She knew that Hanna cared about her, but she wasn't in the mood to start a deep conversation about her feelings - not on a Monday morning, not when she had Chemistry class in less than fifteen minutes.
"You sure? You know you can talk to me about anything, Em. Okay, maybe now is not the right time. You have class this morning, right?"
"Well, some of us do, yes," Emily smirked.
"Okay then, I'll let you go, but you know you can call me back anytime, right, Em? I'm here for you. I always will be."
"I know, Han," Emily said, feeling guilty for dismissing Hanna's concerns. "And I appreciate that, Hanna. I really do. But I'm fine. I even went out last night."
"Oooh really?" Hanna asked, excited all of a sudden. "Where did you go
"Well, there was this party, at a frat house..."
"Wow, Em. That's my girl. And did you have fun? Did you meet some cool people?"
"If by people, you mean some girls, well yes, I did," Emily answered. "Well, technnically, I mostly connected with one girl. If you see what I mean."
"...Wow, Em," Hanna said again, after a few seconds of silence.
On the other end of the line, Emily snorted.
"Oh, come on, Han. You, of all people are not going to lecture me. I just wanted to have fun." And to forget what had happened yesterday morning.
"And did you? Have fun?"
"Yes."
"So... are you going to see this chick again?"
"Hanna, seriously? That was just... a one-night thing. I don't even know her name."
"You're kidding me?"
"Yes. I do know her name. But I don't plan to see her again. Period."
"Okay, Em. That's... great," Hanna said in the most enthusiastic tone she could muster at the moment. "I'm relieved to see that you're not depressed at all, Emily."
"Why should I be depressed? Listen Han, I have to go now. My next class is starting. Thank you for calling, and have a nice day yourself," Emily said curtly before hanging up.
On Thursday evening, exactly four days after her last encounter with Emily Fields, Paige McCullers came back to the Blue Bird Café. Thanks to Spencer, she knew that Emily was working that night, and she had followed her friend's advice - she had given Emily a few days to cool off. At least that was what she hoped. She didn't know what to expect from her former girlfriend, but she was hoping they would be able to talk, without yelling at each other or running away.
When she entered the café, she scanned the room, but Emily was nowhere in sight. The only employees were a boy that Paige hadn't seen before and the blonde waitress who had been there the last time. Sighing, Paige took a seat in a booth, in a quiet corner. She was feeling more and more nervous, and she quickly wiped her sweaty palms against her jeans.
She was rehearsing in her head what she wanted to tell Emily, something she had prepared over the past days, but now her words seemed dull and meaningless. What can I say? I messed up, I alone am responsible for what happened between us, but if only you could forgive me, I really want us to be friends again, maybe even more? I mean later, of course. Just not right now.
"Okay," Paige said between her teeth. "This is so lame."
"Excuse me?"
Startled, Paige looked up to find the blonde young waitress glaring at her.
"Is something wrong?" the girl asked in a defiant tone.
Paige gulped.
"Um, no," she said sheepishly. "I was just thinking out loud. I'm sorry."
"You were there last Sunday, right?" the girl said. "With those Stanford students. You're the one who left suddenly."
"Yes," Paige said. "And about that..."
"You're the reason that Emily was so upset," the girl cut her off, frowning.
"Um, excuse me?" Paige said, her voice a little louder. "It's none of your business. It's... personal. And are you going to take my order, or not?"
The young waitress seemed to hesitate between snapping back at Paige and doing her job. With a shrug, she took a little notebook out of the pocket of her apron.
"So, what do you want, Miss Stanford?" she said, emphasizing the two last words.
What an obnoxious girl. But stay focus, McCullers. You're here for a reason.
"I'll have a latte."
"We don't have latte," the girl said curtly.
"Okay then, let's go for a cappuccino."
"We don't do cappuccino."
Paige raised a brow. "Really? Okay, black coffee then."
"We don't have coffee at this time of night."
"Seriously?" Paige almost yelled.
The waitress, who was wearing a smug grin, opened her mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a calm voice behind her.
"It's okay, Rebecca. I've got this."
Emily Fields was standing behind her colleague, beautiful as ever, even in the loose red t-shirt that seemed to be the café's uniform. Even with the stern expression on her face.
Rebecca shrugged, turned on her heel and left, but not without giving Emily a knowing look.
"I'm sorry," Paige said, dipping her head under Emily's stare. "It's just that..."
"Why are you here, Paige?"
Paige looked up at Emily. Where to begin.
"Did you want to see me?" Emily asked, her tone even.
"Yes. I was hoping we could talk," Paige said in a hoarse voice.
"I'm working right now."
"I know. I know. But we can't stay... I mean, last Sunday. It was awful."
"What did you expect?"
"I... I don't know, Em. Sorry, I mean Emily. I wasn't expecting to see you the other day, I swear." Shit. That came out wrong.
Against all odds, Emily let out a small laugh. "Yeah, me neither. Obviously."
She took a seat facing Paige.
"I don't really have time to talk, Paige."
"I know," Paige said again. "And I know that you told me to not come back."
"Still, you came back."
"Yeah," Paige said with a sheepish smile.
"I'm still mad at you."
"I know."
"Really, really mad."
"I know! I know, Emily," Paige pleaded. "And I want to apologize."
Emily shook her head and sighed. "Don't you get it? I don't want apologies. We're done."
Paige felt her heart felt her heart tighten as tears began to well up in her eyes.
Somehow, Emily's calm tone was worse than her fury from a few days ago.
Her message was clear. She wanted nothing to do with Paige, and this time, it wasn't the anger talking.
Paige tried to keep her voice steady while asking: "So, you don't think we can be... friends again?"
"Oh, come on, Paige," Emily said, rolling her eyes. "Are you serious?"
Paige didn't answer, looking away instead, in an attempt to hide the impeding tears.
"We used to be so good... together..." she finally said in a shaky voice. "You can't deny that, Emily."
Emily's poker face seemed to falter a bit for the first time since the beginning of their conversation. She cleared her throat and said: "The past is the past. We can't go back to what we were."
"I know," Paige said miserably.
The two girls remained silent for a moment, and then Emily said, in a softer voice: "I really have to get back to work."
"Yeah, okay..."
"Do you want to order something, Paige?"
Paige looked at Emily in disbelief. "No, I don't. I'd better go."
"Whatever you want to do," Emily said with a shrug. She stood up and tightened her apron strings. "Bye, Paige."
And that was it. She turned around and headed to the kitchen. Paige stared at Emily's back, fighting tears. She took a minute to compose herself, and then grabbed her jacket and stormed out the café.
One thing was sure: she wasn't going to go back there.
Emily was in the kitchen, staring blankly at the stove, when she heard Rebecca enter the room. Her blonde friend put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.
"Hey Em, is everything okay?"
"Yeah," Emily mumbled.
Rebecca hesitated for a moment, and then asked:
"Is that her?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know the whole story, just what you told me, but... it seems complicated."
"It isn't," Emily said firmly.
"Really?" Rebecca asked, surprised.
"It's very simple. We were together, and we're not anymore. The typical story."
"Uh-huh," Rebecca said, seeming skeptical. "If you say so. Still, you seem..." she stopped mid-sentence, biting her lip.
Emily turned around suddenly, to face her colleague.
"What?" she asked defiantly.
Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Gee, Fields. Chill. It's nothing."
"No, it's not. What were you going to say, Rebecca?"
"Do you really want to know?"
"Well, yes."
"Okay then... well, it's just that... if it's so simple, and if you're really over her, why are you still so angry, and so sad, Emily?"
