Emily spent a lot of time choosing her outfit before she headed over to Samara's place. Maybe her mom was right; maybe Emily just needed to add some spice to their relationship. Her thoughts kept going back to holding hands with Paige as they crossed the street. It was almost as if she could still feel the contact points of her hand in Paige's. She really wanted to feel that electricity again with Samara. Time to give that old car a jump-start, she thought.

Once Emily had settled on an outfit, she checked herself from several angles, striking a series of quick poses in the mirror. She had chosen a short white halter dress that sizzled against her dark skin. She let her hair fall in gentle curls over both of her shoulders, with a smoky, evening look to her make up. A braided chain swung low from her neckline, drawing the eyes there. She had to admit it: She looked pretty hot.

She had to admit it, because she was pretty sure that Samara wouldn't say anything. She took a quick selfie and texted it to Hanna, asking, "Hot or Not?"

Hanna M.: Whoa! Hot! Definitely hot! :D

Emily F.: Thanks, Hanna. 3

Hanna M.: You are so going to drive Paige crazy!

Emily F.: haha. So not funny.

Hanna M.: Okay, well, who knows? Samara might even wake up when she sees you.

Emily was going to reply, but she thought better of it. Why ruin her night before it even started? After a bit, Hanna texted again.

Hanna M: Have fun tonight, Em. You really do look hot.

She included several emojis to make her point: Fire, kissing lips, and a variety of hearts.


"Hey!" Pam's voice sang out. "Looking good, there, Emmy!"

Emily screeched to a halt a couple of steps before she reached the door, her attempt at sneaking out before her mom saw how she was dressed having been foiled. She spun around, forcing a smile.

"Thanks, Mom," she said, resisting the urge to turn around and escape.

"Do you and Samara have something special planned?"

Emily sighed and looked at the ceiling. She could have lied, or given some vague, evasive answer, but she decided to spill. "No. We don't. I'm just doing what you suggested. You know. Spicing things up a little."

Pam gave Emily a hug and a weak smile. "Well, I hope that it works out," she said, kissing her daughter's temple. "Have a good time."

Emily thanked her mom and reached for the door. She stopped and turned around, her hand still on the knob. "Mom," she asked softly, "what do you think about Samara?"

Pam tightened her lips, with a vulnerable look in her eyes. "Do you really want to know?"

Emily nodded. This was important to her. She was really trying to figure things out.

"Well," Pam said, upbeat, "why don't you tell me how it goes tonight, and then I'll answer your question?" Pam didn't want to dim Emily's enthusiasm for her big night before the night even started. Maybe Samara would surprise her - would surprise both of them.

"Okay," Emily said with a hug, grateful that her mother was reserving judgment until after the date.


Samara greeted Emily at the door with a "Whoa!" Emily smiled demurely, biting her lip. "Did we have plans to go somewhere tonight?" Samara added.

"No," Emily shrugged, a bit deflated. "I just felt like getting dressed up."

"Oh, thank God," Samara said. "I mean, you look great," she thought to say, when she realized how she must've sounded.. "It's just been a really long day, you know?"

I don't look great, I look hot, Emily thought. Too hot to stay in. But, determined to make the best of the evening, she said, "That's fine. I just really wanted to cuddle on the couch and maybe watch a movie."

"That sounds perfect," Samara said, with genuine enthusiasm. "You pick something out. I'll go grab you a beer."

Beer and a movie, Emily thought, I really am a cheap date! She laughed to herself, trying her best to stay cheerful. She slipped off her heels and settled in on the couch. After a while, she came up with a couple of options from Samara's Netflix queue and waited to talk them over with Samara. She checked her phone. She'd been looking at movie descriptions for over twenty minutes. "Sam?" she called out in the general direction of the kitchen.

"Be right there," Samara yelled from her study. Great. Emily realized that Samara had gotten caught up with her computer. She sighed and started making funny faces into her phone and texting the pictures to Hanna.

Hanna M.: Why are you texting pictures to me instead of sexting pictures to Paige?

Emily F.: Bored. Samara's chained to her computer. Again. :/

Emily could have whined and gotten Samara to come to the couch, but she didn't want to be like that. Instead, she decided to grab a couple of beers – because Samara obviously wasn't in a candlelight-and-wine kind of mood – and go see what Samara was up to.

Emily slid a beer bottle onto Samara's desk and wrapped her arms around Samara's neck, moving her face close to her girlfriend's. "Thanks," Samara said, not looking up from the report that she was typing.

"Sam," Emily couldn't help whine, "It's Friday night!"

"Oh, shit!" Samara said, coming to her senses. "I had no idea that I'd been at it this long. I'm so sorry, Emily."

Part of Emily just wanted to say, "Never mind," and head home. A larger part, though, really wanted to make things work with Samara – even if Samara, when she was at her best, was having a hard time measuring up to Paige, when Paige was just being herself.

But thinking about Paige wasn't going to get Emily anywhere.

"So," Emily said, cheerfully, "I couldn't decide. 'Gilda' – old classic, or 'Love and Basketball' – a little romance."

Samara shrugged nonchalantly, with a yawn. Both of the movies were in Samara's queue. Emily thought that she would have some preference.

"Which would you prefer?" Emily prodded.

"Whatever you're in the mood for."

Emily didn't let Samara's detached response get to her. She just pressed on. "How about we start with 'Gilda?' But if it doesn't make the grade, we can switch to 'Love and Basketball.'"

"Sounds good, Babe. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, actually."

"Well, I could whip something up, or we could order?"

"Let's order," Emily said. "That way, you can stay here next to me and we can start the movie."

Samara grabbed her phone from the counter in the kitchen and punched in a quick order to Domino's. Once the order was in, she sat down on the couch and extended her arm, beckoning Emily in. Emily smiled, curling her legs up on the couch, and started the movie.

Before long, she was pausing it when the doorbell rang. Samara got up and grabbed the pizza. When she got back to Emily, she pointed to her outfit. "That's probably not a good dress for pizza, is it? Do you want to grab something from my closet?"

Emily smiled and nodded. As she headed to the bedroom, she thought to herself, No, it's not good for pizza, but it's perfect for dancing! But she wasn't going to give in to negativity. Pizza tonight, dancing some other night, she hoped.


Emily woke up later that evening under a blanket, still on Samara's couch. The lamp on the corner table was supplying a dim glow to the room. The TV had been turned off, the pizza had been put away, and Emily could hear the faint tapping of keys from Samara's study. Another perfect evening, she thought.

After a few moments of introspection, she decided to give up and call it a night. She gathered her shoes and folded the sweatshirt that she had borrowed from Samara's room. When she got to the door, she called out, "Sam! I'm going to head back home!"

She heard the chair roll away from Samara's desk. Samara trotted into the entryway and put her arms around Emily's neck. "I'm so sorry about tonight, Em," she said, sounding somewhat sincere. "It's just been a crazy week. I'll make it up to you, okay?"

Emily sighed. "Don't worry about it."

"No, I promise," Samara said, looking up into Emily's eyes, which were elevated by Emily's heels. She cupped Emily's cheek and gave her a gentle kiss. "Do you forgive me?"

Emily nodded. "I understand, Samara," she said flatly. "It's fine, really."

It really wasn't.


Samara closed the door behind Emily and collapsed against it, pinching the bridge of her nose. She had blown it again.

She went back to her office and picked up her glasses, but, rather than putting them back on, she just fiddled with them in her hands as she sat with one leg in her chair and the other on the floor, swiveling the chair slowly from side to side.

Anyone would have told Samara that she was lucky, and, of course, she would have admitted as much. Emily was beautiful, intelligent, loving, caring - all of those things. But, after a couple of years, there was a certain sameness about her.

This is not to say that Samara had fallen out of love with Emily. Take a kid to Disney World for a week, and she'll be bouncing off the walls with excitement. Take that kid every week for a year and, sure, she'll still have fun, but not with that same wall-bouncing excitement.

Was Samara supposed to feel guilty because she was no longer head over heels?

Samara was content in the relationship, but she knew that Emily wanted more. And Samara wished that she could do more; give more; be more, because Emily deserved more. Still, whenever they were together, they always seemed to fall back into the same pattern. And it wasn't Emily's fault. Samara knew that.

Deep down, Samara also knew that Emily was going to break up with her, sooner or later. This wasn't what she wanted, but she certainly couldn't blame Emily.

With a deep sigh, she centered her chair, put her glasses on, and got back to work.


Paige woke up on her couch and clicked the TV off. She had fallen asleep watching "The Twilight Zone" on Amazon. She wasn't sure how many episodes she had slept through, but it explained her crazy dreams. She hurriedly closed the cover on the pizza box that was on the coffee table before she jogged over to answer the doorbell.

(Yes, both Paige and Emily had fallen asleep on the couch in front of an open pizza box on a Friday night, with a black-and-white program on the TV.)

Emily had driven by Paige's place (which wasn't on the way home from Samara's) and noticed that the light was on. She drove by a couple more times before she mustered up enough courage to ring the doorbell. She just really wanted some sort of affirmation for the way that she looked that night. She sat in the driveway for a few seconds, redoing her make-up, before she went to the door.

No sooner had she rung the doorbell than she realized what a mistake it was. It was wrong for her to play games like that with Paige, just because she was feeling needy.

Paige stumbled to the door in a baggy pair of sage-green sweatpants topped with a white, spaghetti strapped shirt that ended just below her navel. Her arms were crossed at her waist, and her eyes looked as if the light in the hall were her worst enemy.

The sight of Emily on the other side of the door hit her like twelve cups of espresso. Her eyes came to life immediately. "Whoa, Emily! You look fantastic!"

"Thanks," Emily said, shyly looking down at her shoes. "I was driving home, and I saw that your light was on, so I thought I'd say 'hi,'" she explained, realizing how transparent that sounded.

Paige leaned her head against the open door which she was still holding with her left hand. Emily purposely focused on Paige's eyes, rather than on the way that Paige's well-toned arm was stretched out, or the way that her shirt rode up with her arm extended. And, in Paige's eyes, she saw fatigue.

"I'm so sorry," she said, reaching out to touch Paige's right shoulder. "It's late. I shouldn't have rung your bell!" she added, backing away.

"No, it's fine," Paige assured her, not just to be polite. "I fell asleep in front of the TV. It's not that late." Actually Paige had no idea what time it was. She only knew that it was too early to let Emily leave. "Do you want to come in?"

"Well, just for a second," Emily said, reaching for Paige's shoulder again, apologetically.

Paige led the way to the kitchen and pulled out a couple of coffee mugs. "So, it looks as if you and Samara had a fun night?"

Emily nodded. "Dinner and a show," she said, not feeling that she was stretching the truth too much.

Paige pulled out some milk from the refrigerator and started steaming it. "No way," Emily gushed, "You got a cappuccino maker?"

"E-Bay special," Paige said, adding, with a smirk, "I mean, I wanted to spoil myself, but let's get serious!"

"Mmm! I love that smell," Emily said, when the coffee began to grind.

"So, what did you guys see?" Paige asked.

Shit! Emily hadn't prepared an answer. "We saw 'Gilda?'" She said the name as a question, not sure that Paige was familiar with it. "It's an old movie from the forties," she explained, after Paige shrugged. "There's a theater in Philadelphia which plays old films." Emily complimented herself on not having lied to Paige. She and Samara had watched 'Gilda,' and there is a theater in Philadelphia which plays old films. "You should come with us sometime," she suggested enthusiastically, not really having thought it through.

Paige laughed at the suggestion. When Emily looked at her funny, she said, "Oh, sorry. I just…" couldn't think of a worse torture than tagging along with you and your girlfriend in a dark, intimate theater. "wouldn't want to be a third wheel."

Emily found Paige's shoulder with her hand. Again. She wondered why she felt so compelled to touch it, other than the obvious reasons. Samara would be the third wheel, Emily thought, but, to her great relief, she caught herself before she said that out loud.

"Besides," Paige said, as Emily took the mug that Paige was holding out to her and sat down, "I don't think I could pass the dress co-" Paige's brain stopped when Emily crossed one leg over the other and puckered her red lips at the coffee cup. Paige almost dropped her own cup, and Emily noticed a slight tremble in Paige's hands as she sat across from Emily. Paige had both hands wrapped tight around her mug, in hopes of stabilizing the mug as well as herself.

Emily's mind flashed back to Hanna's prediction that she would drive Paige crazy with that dress. She felt guilty for showing up on Paige's doorstep looking like that. It was a cruel thing to do to Paige - the woman who had confessed that she wanted a relationship, and who had all but admitted that she was attracted to Emily - just because Emily wanted to feel better about herself. But, Emily was stuck there at that point, having to finish her cappuccino. The conversation wasn't flowing as readily as it did during their Wednesday lunches. This was probably because Emily was having a harder time convincing herself that her visit was completely innocent, especially whenever Paige moved, accentuating her collar bone under the straps of her top.

Paige's eyes kept falling to Emily's red lips and to the imprint that they had left on her mug. Even though the evening was awkward, even though it was late, and even though she felt like a hobo sharing a table with royalty, she was in no hurry to see the night end. This, she realized, would be one of her last opportunities to spend time with Emily, and she was going to enjoy it for as long as it lasted.