A/N - This chapter is actually called, "The Kisses We Can't Remember, The Kisses We Can't Forget," but, apparently, there's a limit on the number of characters in a title! :)

Thanks for reading! 3

As the years went by, it became impossible for Emily to deny who she was and how she felt. It was an important journey and eye-opening, but it wasn't without its painful moments. One particularly painful moment took place when she found herself alone in the locker room with her blonde crush.

Alison, as usual, was being flirty, talking sweetly and going out of her way to get Emily's hands against her skin. Emily, as frightened as she was of what it would mean if she acknowledged the things that she was feeling, still summoned up the courage to make a move. In her head and in her heart, it was something gentle and special and beautiful, but reality was much crueler. It wasn't enough for Alison to reject her; she went so far as to humiliate her. And, as if that weren't enough, she took it to another extreme, repudiating who Emily was; belittling her for her sexuality. Emily learned a hard lesson that day: It's best to keep some things hidden. Better to suppress who you are than to expose yourself to a spiteful, unfeeling world that tricks you into thinking it cares about you.

It was only when Alison mysteriously left Rosewood and Emily got a new neighbor that she discovered, slowly, how to trust again. Maya was like Alison, in some ways: Sophisticated, free-spirited, mature. But she didn't play games the way Alison did; she laid it on the line. If she had been Emily's first love, her coming out experience would have been vastly different. But the cruelness of Alison made it hard for Emily to trust again; like a rescue dog, who has to discover that not all humans are out to hurt her.

The first step in the process was small but significant. During a sleepover, as Maya drifted off to sleep, her hand idly landed on Emily's thigh. It wasn't anything unusual or meaningful. Emily tried to tell herself not to read anything into it. She and Maya were friends; good friends; soulmates, possibly, but that didn't mean that Maya was into her in that way. Emily's emotions dueled inside her, on the one hand, urging her to be brave again, and, on the other, crippled by the memory and expectation of being rejected and humiliated again. In the end, Emily decided that not knowing was more of a torture than rejection would be; that "no" was better than never knowing. Emily, slowly, tentatively, placed her hand atop Maya's, fully expecting Maya to recoil in horror and ask her what she was doing. But, instead, with a gentle moan, Maya cuddled in on her, and life was beautiful.

But it wasn't that easy.

Emily wasn't ready to come out. Despite what she felt with Maya, she wasn't ready to come out to herself. And, knowing that there were more Alisons than Mayas in the world, she certainly wasn't ready to come out to anyone else. Eventually, the decision was made for her. She and Maya went into a picture booth at a party – a very post-millennium thing to do – and Maya kissed her. They had been fooling around, as girls do, but the kiss was definitely real. It felt good to be able to kiss a girl, and, maybe, given enough time, Emily could have eased into letting her friends know about her and Maya. But fate had other plans. When they got out of the booth, their strip of photos never came. Maya assured her that it was just a malfunction, but, when Emily got to school the next week, the picture of Maya kissing her was blown up and plastered on her locker. She took it down immediately, but it was too late to stop the rumors.

When Emily's mom got a copy of the picture in an unsigned mailing, she freaked out. Emily tried to convince her that they were just kidding around, but the camera doesn't lie. Pam had been young and in love, too. She recognized the look. It was a challenging time, but, eventually, Pam and Wayne were able to make an uneasy peace with it.

This was more than could be said for Paige's parents. When Nick McCullers heard the news about Emily, he went ballistic. It was an outrage; something had to be done. He had known that there was something wrong with that Fields girl from the night he first met her. – Nick, checked by a stern look from his wife, who subtly tilted her head towards Paige, never finished his thought about the kisses that Emily gave Paige when they were toddlers. Paige didn't know what he was referring to, but she knew that he was withholding information from her. And she knew that it would have been futile to ask him what it was about.

Paige was never really sure how much of the firestorm that Nick ignited with Coach Fulton was because he wanted to protect his daughter from lesbians in the locker room and how much was because he saw the situation as an opportunity for him to get Emily out of the way. After all, Paige had no viable competition for the captain's spot other than Emily, and Paige's earning that spot was one of the crucial stepping stones in his master plan for her life.

Whatever Nick's reasons were, though, for the first time in her life, Paige began to question him. No matter what his motivation for attacking Emily was, he was wrong. Emily belonged on the team, lesbian, competition, or whatever.

Paige couldn't defy her father openly, but she could try to let Emily know that she supported her. She decided to talk to Emily, just the two of them, and make things right.

But it all went wrong.

As Emily sat in her car after practice, Paige jumped in on the passenger's side. Emily was startled, of course, and, seeing the fear in Emily's eyes, Paige went on the defensive. She wanted to sound like an ally, but, instead, she sounded accusatory. Before she knew it, she was lashing out at Emily for being entitled, and Emily was lashing out right back at her. Listening to Emily's vitriol made Paige hurt inside. She didn't have to imagine how alone Emily must have felt, how painful it had to feel for Emily to be judged and hated for things beyond her control, and how tired she must have been from constantly having to defend herself.

Paige was frustrated. She hadn't been able to reassure Emily with words. Before she could come up with a better plan, she found herself leaning over and kissing Emily. She kissed her because she wanted her to know that she wasn't alone. She wanted her to know that she didn't hate her, and that she wasn't afraid of having a gay teammate in the locker room. But, mostly, she wanted to kiss her.

When she saw the look in Emily's eyes, she realized that she had messed things up again. She practically ran out of the car, fearing that she would do even more damage if she tried to explain herself, but before she did, she said two words that made the whole experience even worse: Don't tell.

Emily was shocked and thrown by the kiss. She found it hard to drive home that night, because her hands were so shaky on the wheel. She didn't dare sit in the parking lot and wait until she had calmed herself down, though. She was too worried that Paige would jump into the passenger seat and either try to explain or try something even worse.

As it turned out, she needn't have worried that Paige would try to explain herself. Paige refused to talk about it at all. For weeks after the kiss, she avoided Emily as much as she could. When they finally ran into each other, alone in the locker room, Paige made it very clear that the kiss wasn't up for discussion. It had simply never happened. It was easier that way; easier than trying to explain it – to Emily or to herself.

Paige knew at least part of the explanation. She had kissed Emily because she wanted to kiss someone; to know what it felt like to be connected to someone. It was down to the way that she had been raised. Nick and Marlene were strictly hands-off parents. And, as hard as it would have been for Paige to admit it, she craved the kind of contact that was commonplace among her classmates at Rosewood High – the couples holding hands as they walked through the hallway or making out in front of the lockers; the simple hugs that friends gave each other as they said good-bye; the hand on a shoulder to comfort or congratulate a classmate. Her only kiss was stolen. Her only hugs were with her stuffed animal. And, once, in a particularly lonely walk home, she took the glove off of her left hand on a cold, snowy day and intertwined her bare fingers with the fingers of the glove, pretending she had someone's hand to hold.

It wasn't that Paige didn't have chances. More than a few boys tried to chat with her or get her number, but none of them captured her interest. Eventually, she gave in out of sheer loneliness and began spending time with Sean Ackard. They had a lot in common. They were both athletes; they were both driven; they were both going places. Nick McCullers would have been proud. So, when Sean asked, Paige let him take her out on a date; even let him walk her to her door and kiss her good night. But the whole thing felt phony. She ended it the next day. He was a great guy, but she needed to focus on her swimming. Maybe in another life. Maybe they could still be friends.

Funny how the conversation that she could never have with Emily was so much easier to have with Sean. Funny how the memory of her two-hour date with Sean faded in a day or so, but she never stopped thinking about those five minutes in Emily's car.