A/N: A quick follow-up, this wanted to be written and so I obliged. I know it's shorter than usual, but I think it needs to be stand alone. I'm trying to write something everyday so you never know, the next update may be pretty quick too.
Again, thanks so much for follows, reviews and favourites. I do appreciate them so much, it's really cool of you to take the time to read and let me know.
CHAPTER 7:
They stand in front of one another and the sounds and the colours seem to leach out of the room. A silence stretches and distorts around them as if they're suspended in an air-lock. Paige feels like the air has been sucked out from her lungs as she waits for Emily to speak. But Emily's suspended there too: Paige in front of her, and she can't stop thinking about how much Paige means to her, how much she misses her. How much she wants her. She can't stop thinking of all the things they should have said to one another that remain unsaid; all the things she knew Paige needed from her that she was never able to give her; all the things that Paige wanted for her. She opens her mouth to say something, anything, and then she remembers the kiss, she kissed Alison and she drops her head.
"Hey," Paige says and all at once, like a film running backwards, the air rushes back into the space between them, along with the sights and the sounds and the colours of the party. Emily looks up gratefully,
"Hi."
"How are you?"
Emily shrugs, "I'm ok. I didn't expect to see you here." She has to lean close to get Paige to hear her it's so loud in the room. And she's close enough that she sees Paige's reaction and realizes she's misunderstood, Paige's voice cold as she replies,
"Why? You wouldn't have come otherwise?"
"No, Paige. I-I just," (I hoped you would be.) "I know how you hate parties."
Paige softens a little, this is the first chance they've had to talk since they broke up. It's the first time Paige has seen her without anyone else around, since she received the photos. Perhaps … She smiles instead,
"Yeah, well, I didn't have much choice." And she makes a half-turn towards where Sydney is standing behind her.
"Oh. Yeah …" They stand, awkwardly, all the time aware of the moment between them being lost. "Are you having a good time?"
Paige dips her head, "Not really, I'm not good at parties." (I only used to be good at them with you.)
Emily smiles in return, "Yeah. I remember."
"You?"
Emily shrugs, "Well, I was just about to leave, then I saw you over here and I thought I hadn't seen you for a while, so …"
Someone's overenthusiastic dancing sends him crashing into Emily causing her to sway a little on her feet, the movement taking her into Paige, who puts out an instinctive arm to keep her upright.
"Yeah, I'm not really in the mood for a party." Paige hesitates, then takes a plunge,
"I wasn't going to stay much longer myself, if you want I can walk you part-way home?"
"Um, yeah, ok that'd be good," Emily smiles.
"Just let me get my coat."
Paige turns to see Sydney roll her eyes at her. She steps over close to where Sydney and Nick are, she grabs her coat and puts a hand on Sydney's arm,
"I'm just gonna – uh, go home."
"Paige? Are you sure?" Sydney's disapproval is rolling off her, but she's smiling and says resignedly, "Jeez, when I said talk to the girl who appears in front of you – I meant for you to get laid, not into some heavy-ass discussion with your ex."
"I know, Syd, I just … I know."
The air outside is cold, the moon clear and they emerge into a bluish, dream-lit world: the streets clear, the houses shut down for the night as their occupants sleep. It's late, their footsteps echoing clearly in the quiet. They walk in silence for a while, still close but not touching, breath puffing into the night sky, stars like diamonds clear-cut above them. They pass through the park Paige had ridden through on her way to deliver her letter to Emily so many nights ago. The crunch of the gravel-path is loud beneath their boots. The swings, as before, hanging still and static in the moonlight, which glints off them as if they're carved from ice.
Emily steps off the path and into the play-area. She wants to prolong the journey, and they haven't talked yet. And she needs to talk. Needs to keep Paige close. The night feels like a gift to her: a gift given outside of their usual routine: a chance, perhaps. The cold air has driven the alcohol deeper into her bloodstream and she feels more drunk than she had indoors. But the drink both warms her on this cold night, and gives her courage. She sits on one of the swings, gently moving it backwards and forwards. Paige hesitates a moment before sitting in the swing next to her.
They wait for what seems like forever. Paige trails the toe of her boot into the gravel, she forgets the silence as she becomes transfixed by the patterns she's trailing there – the moon-beams catching sparkles of broken glass among the gravel. She thinks back to the times when she and Emily had spent late nights together on her porch steps, until Pam would call out "It's late, Paige should be getting home!" And they'd giggle and spend another ten minutes saying goodbye. She remembers how in those barmy late evenings they talked and talked, huddled side-by-side, knee-to-knee, hands entwined. They'd watch as people passed on the street in front of them, making up stories about them, who they were, where they were going. They talked about their childhood, about films they loved, about Fate about the Future. But the moon on those nights was a fat summer moon, white and pure. Paige looks up, this moon is ice-white and cold and there's a space between them that she worries they'll never be able to breach.
Emily breaks the silence, "How's swimming?"
The one thing they used to have in common, then the source of where it all went wrong.
"Ok. Good. I'm trying to shave a couple more seconds off my time. Coach Fulton's helping. She's talking about me doing some extra training, I don't know when I'm going to fit that in if I've got to keep my grades up. But … it's good."
Paige is aware of the spaces behind what she's saying: Stanford; Emily's x-ray; the whole horrible mess of their relationship.
"Good. I'm so pleased, Paige." Paige senses the sincerity. "And is it, Sydney? She's settling into the team ok?"
"Yeah. She's good. She's not as good as you, but once she starts properly knuckling down I think she'll do well. It's nice having her in the team."
"I noticed you're spending a lot of time with her."
"It's nice to have a friend. She's a good friend."
They lapse back into quiet. Emily tries again, "Have you finished watching Orphan Black yet?"
"Uh, nuh. Not yet." (Not without you.) "You?"
"No. Spencer's just got into it so she keeps bugging me to watch it with her, but, it doesn't feel right. I don't know." She tails off. "I saw the Lauren Bacall feature was on in the city a couple of weeks ago. I wondered if you'd gone?"
Paige remembers it well, the night she got Emily's x-rays, "Yeah. I went to one showing. It seemed only right to pay my respects, you know."
"Yeah. Spencer was going to go. I said she should ask you, I know how much you love her. Spencer does too."
Paige gives a short laugh, "Yeah. I can see that."
Emily looks up at the sky, the moon clear, bright, almost too bright. She closes her eyes, wills the right words to come, she grips the cold chain of the swing tightly. She watches the toe of Paige's boot sifting through the gravel, notices where glass glints. She takes a deep breath,
"Paige?"
"Uh huh?"
"Th-there's something I have to tell you." Her heart's beating like mad, she swears Paige would be able to see it underneath her heavy winter coat, if she'd just look close enough. Paige can't answer, waiting, voice caught in her throat, "I kissed someone."
She hears the exhalation of Paige's breath but she doesn't say anything.
"I kissed Alison." Emily watches for Paige's reaction, hears her swallow, the moonlight catches the tears that stand at the corners of her eyes, "But you know that already don't you?"
Paige nods,
"How did you know? Did Alison tell you?"
"Why would you ask that?"
"Because it's the sort of thing she'd do." Paige catches the bitterness in Emily's tone and reaches into her back pocket. She pulls out her phone,
"I wasn't going to show you this, but, now you mention it," Paige has worked out the only way she could have gotten the photo is from someone who was watching Alison at Emily's house, someone who knew Alison was there and who had a good reason to believe that something would happen: a set up.
She hands the phone over to Emily who flicks back and forth between the photos a couple of times before giving it back,
"I'm sorry, Paige."
"Sorry that I had to see these, or …?"
"Both."
"When you asked had she told me, why did you?"
"I could tell from how you've been at school that you knew something."
"So … are you ..?"
"Together?" Emily barks out a sharp laugh, "No. It's not what I want."
She turns to face Paige, "I'm sorry. I've got no excuses. I can't say I didn't want to kiss her, I did. She said all these things .. things I'd waited so long to hear … and I could tell she wanted to. But … it wasn't like I thought it would be."
Emily stops and Paige is aware of a disconnect between her physical self, here on the swings listening as Emily makes excuses and her mental self, the one that's swinging high above her: hearing the spaces and the meaning deep within the words. She waits as Emily says,
"I got mixed up. My head got messed up. I'd lost everything. I was so mad at you -" Paige scoffs and shakes her head, "No, Paige, I was mad at you. I was mad at my life. I'd lost everything – Stanford, swimming. When I learned Ali was alive it was like I had a purpose again. I could save her. We could get rid of –A. But then she was back and because it was Ali it all got messed up."
Paige watches Emily as she's talking. She watches her face, the flash of her eyes, her skin, watches how she over-rides everything else around her. Even the moonlight seems to mix up with Emily's luminescence. And everything gets mixed up again. She always feels like a different person when she's with Emily. It's always been the same. She different somehow, better. For a moment, Paige forgets, forgets they're rowing, forgets about the kiss, forgets about the letter. She's lost. She'll never be over Emily, she knows that and she almost gives in.
Emily wipes her eyes and smiles as Paige hands her a tissue, "I was so angry with you, Paige, I forgot how much I missed you." She blows her nose, "I never chose Ali. I choose you every time."
Paige almost gives in. But she's fought hard to be someone she can be proud of, someone she is now. And she's not going to give that up. She remembers something she read once, something about staying away from the one you love too much. She never understood what it meant before. She understands it now.
"Funny how it never feels like that." Paige's voice is cold, a catch in it like ice in water. "I know I hurt you. I know you can kiss whoever you like, I get that, Emily. But … Alison? Out of everyone in the whole fucking Universe you chose her?"
Paige stands up, boots crunching a rhythm as she paces back and forth,
"I won't apologise for sending the letter, Emily. Someone needed to know that it wasn't Alison's body in that grave." She turns to face, Emily, her voice softens a little, "But I am sorry for how I did it. I'm sorry I gave you an ultimatum. It was wrong."
She pauses, anger and adrenaline giving her the courage to speak, "But, let's face it, you'd already given up; you never even tried. And when you heard Ali was alive, you didn't need a reason to try did you?" She completes another turn, then goes back past Emily, "And now you choose me?"
Emily wipes her eyes and her voice drops, so quiet it's like a whisper, "Being without you now, seeing you without being with you – I don't think I realised how that would feel."
She makes a move forward as if to catch at Paige's arm, but Paige is too far away from her, she says,
"Is that it? It's too late? I've lost you?"
"Emily, when I see you now, I can only see that photo on my phone, see you and Ali and it kills me. I can't let myself go back to what I was before. I won't do that to myself."
Emily watches Paige's hands. She notices little details that she'd missed before: a plaster on the little finger of her right hand. She wonders how she did it? Mending her bike? Helping her dad? And it upsets her that she doesn't know. That she no longer has a right to even ask.
Emily hears the faint hum of a car's tires sound far in the distance and it makes her aware of how all around them there are other lives going on, lives in which she and Paige and –A and Ali aren't the centre of the Universe. But all she can think about it Paige's letter and how much she wants to say Yes: yes to New York, yes to Central Park and to the top of the Empire State Building; she wants to yell at her I'd go to the top of the fucking world with you, Paige McCullers, if only you'd ask me to go. And she watches Paige's hands.
If Paige would shout, or cry, or lose some control, then Emily would know what to do. But she's calm, cold, considered, jaw firm and the only sign of emotion is her inability to stand still and the tear at the corner of her eye.
"I'm sorry," Emily says.
"Yeah. Me too." Emily shivers, Paige takes a step towards her, "Come on, I'll take you home."
"No. You don't have to do that."
"It's ok."
"Paige, please."
"Emily, I can't leave you here. I'm not going to do that."
Emily knows Paige's stubborn streak too well to try and fight it. She's tired, worn down. She longs for silence and quiet and peace.
They walk home through the moonlight. It's not long before dawn and the air has taken on a chill, the few remaining fall leaves stirring in the breeze. They walk close, arms occasionally brushing, until they reach Emily's house. Paige stops and Emily turns to face her, she leans towards her placing a cold, gentle hand on Paige's arm to steady herself and when she stretches up on tiptoe to kiss Paige's cheek, Paige shivers, feeling the kiss go through her,
"Thanks."
"Bye, Em."
"Paige? Could we at least try and be friends?"
Paige shrugs, unsure, "We can try, I guess."
But Paige knows it's useless: they can try and try, but her love for Emily is as simple and pure and steady as the moon.
A/N: And there it is. Hey! Things can only get better from here, surely?
