A/N: I'm sorry I haven't been able to update sooner, but the last few weeks have made me super busy with college things, even more so this week and next. So, this is going to be my last update until at least next Sunday.
Thank you guys so much for being patient and sticking with me throughout this crazy ride. I didn't think that this story, which was expected to only be a one-shot, would grow to something this big. I have every intention of staying with it, letting it grow as huge as possible, while still remaining true to Aria and Ezra. This is, after all, a story about them.
For that reason, if you have any suggestions, constructive criticism or comments, please, let me know. I absolutely love the feeling I get when I log onto my email and see multiple emails from this site, telling me someone reviewed or favorited or has an alert for this story. And, considering I'm going to be cut off from the internet for a week, I would love to come back to find reviews galore. Haha. Anyway, I thank each and every one of you for the support I've gotten for this story, and I hope you keep reading until the very end!
Enjoy! -J
Chapter Eight- "Four Means of Communication Equals Four Reasons"
Aria marked off another 'X' on her calendar. Only eighty-two more days until she would be returning to New York City. Eighty-two more days until she saw her best friends. Eighty-two more days until she would see Ezra. Eighty-two more days. Thinking to herself, she knew she would be able to last those eight-two days, it seemed manageable. She smiled to herself as she stood up from her chair, pushed it under her desk, and flipped off the light, walking out of her office.
She waved goodbye and smiled sympathetically at the other staff writers who remained on the floor, desperately trying to finish their stories by tomorrow's deadline. Aria was never one to procrastinate when it came to her writing, so she had her three articles finished and submitted that morning, meaning she would be able to actually go home at a decent hour.
She strode through the lobby and out the door leading to the parking lot, pressing the unlock button on her key. The lights of a glistening silver Toyota Prius parked not too far from the building, a gift from the Chronicle for her to use the duration of her time here, flashed, signaling that it was unlocked. Aria slipped into the driver's seat and placed her purse on the passenger's seat, taking off her heels and placing them under the seat beside her and taking out the bobby pins tightly holding her hair into a bun. She fluffed her hair and buckled her seatbelt, throwing her car in reverse and driving out of the parking structure.
It had just been a little over a week, and she was already familiar with all the streets and sights of San Francisco. It was exactly as she had imagined it to be, all green and open and more laid back, but, in a way, still slightly different. It was definitely a culture shock, and would take some getting used to, but she was already beginning to get adjusted quite well.
Aria thought back to her first full week in San Francisco, and realized there was absolutely nothing she could complain about. The people here were riculously friendly and waved hello whenever you saw them, unlike in New York where everyone kept their heads buried in their electronics, barely acknowledging your existence. She had a great job with her own office and no restrictions on her writing, an adorable house, and a brand-new car. What was there to protest? Truth be told, the only real thing she missed were her friends and family. But they understood she needed to do this on her own.
Twenty minutes later, Aria pulled up to her parking spot in front of her quaint little two story townhouse. She turned off the engine and slipped her shoes back on, grabbing her purse and locking the car before walking up the stairs to her front porch.
Just as she had expected, the package from Ezra had finally arrived. It wasn't a large box, but it wasn't exactly a small box either. And it was lighter than she had anticipated. She tucked the box under her arm and unlocked her house, locking the door behind her and flipping on the lights.
She placed her keys on the front table beside the front door, underneath the hanging mirror. She kicked off her shoes, and placed her purse on the table, next to her keys so she wouldn't forget anything the next morning. Making her way over to the open living room and kitchen space, she flipped on all the lights, making sure that everything was well lit, Ezra's package still safely under her arm.
Aria placed the box on the table in front of the TV and walked over to the phone, dialing the number for the pizza place nearby, not in the mood for actually going through the motions of cooking something for dinner. She sat down on the plush leather couch, turning on the TV to the news, and ripped off the packaging tape on Ezra's package, laughing as she realized what was inside.
Aria removed the packing peanuts, less of a necessity, she realized, rather, more as a form of retaliation for putting them in his box, since she knew Ezra hated them, and pulled out three stuffed animals. The first, a snail, was attached to the framed picture of her and Ezra at the museum in Philly. The second, a pigeon, had a scroll of paper with Aria's name on it anchored in its claws. And the third, an owl, had its wings wrapped around a weathered copy of a thick, leather bound book.
She smiled as she pulled off the snail from the frame and turned around, setting the frame on the table behind the couch that contained pictures of her loved ones. It was the same frame, she recognized, she had left behind in New York City. She had been meaning to call Spencer and ask if she could send it over, it was nice to know Ezra had taken care of it already. Aria then unhooked the scroll of paper from the pigeon's claws and set the pigeon next to the snail, and carefully pulled the book from the owl's wings and placed the owl next to the other two stuffed animals.
Tucking her feet under her, she unrolled Ezra's letter, in his signature chicken scratch writing, and began reading.
Aria,
You said in your letter that we should basically communicate by all forms necessary, so I decided to take care of three at once: snail mail, carrier pigeon and by owl. I hope you like what each animal was carrying. The picture of us that the snail was stuck to was actually the one you left in your room at the apartment. I snuck it out of there after meeting Spencer, Emily and Hanna for dinner a couple nights ago. I thought you might need a reminder of what's waiting for you back here.
As for the book, I'm sure you haven't even looked at it yet. Knowing you, you were more curious to read what my letter said, rather than looking at an old book. I suggest you at least check out the cover before you continue reading. No, actually, make sure you look inside.
Aria did what she was told and put the letter on the couch beside her, leaning over to reach for the book. She dusted off the cover, it was an older book, after all, and opened it. The strong, musty smell of leather and paper combined with particles of dust hit her as she gasped, reading the title and copyright pages. Her eyes drifted over the words over and over again, convinced she was reading it wrong. After reading it at least ten times, she was positive her eyes were not deceiving her. In her hands was a first edition copy of To Kill A Mockingbird, complete with an autograph from Harper Lee.
How Ezra had gotten a hold of a copy of this was beyond her. She remembered that she had read a story a few years ago about how a book like this had sold online for over $25,000. She knew he did not spend that much on it, just to give it to her. At least, that's what she hoped. She placed the book safely on her lap and grabbed the letter, beginning to read where she left off.
I know you're wondering how the hell I got a copy of this. It's kind of a long story, but I think it'll entertain you.
Well, a few years ago, I was browsing the antique bookstore on 7th and I found a box of books they had brought in. Digging through it, I came across this. I nearly cried when I saw that it was a first edition, and I clutched it to my chest, determined not to let it go, let alone let anyone know I had it.
I figured they would charge me a fortune, but it was worth a shot. I asked the owner how much he was selling it for, and he said he would sell it to me for just $300. As much as I wanted to just pay for it and get the hell out of there before he realized he was going to be losing thousands of dollars by selling it to me for so little, my conscience forced me to explain to the owner that it was a rare copy. I remember his response clearly, after I explained that it could go for thousands, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "It was my ex-wife's, and I just want to get it away from me at whatever cost. If she saw it online, she would remember that it was hers and ask for it back. I'd rather make a couple hundred bucks off of it now, rather than thousands if it means I don't have to deal with her later." It was reason enough for me, so I paid the $300 for it and left.
It must've been my lucky week, because, afterwards, I found out that Harper Lee was actually making a rare appearance at the Waldorf-Astoria the next day, and I begged one of my publishing friends to pull some strings and let me meet her. Long story short, I made it in and got her to sign it. Which is how I came to own a rare, autographed first edition copy of To Kill a Mockingbird.
I want you to have it. Well, not really have it, per se, more like borrow it. Think of it as collateral. By "loaning" you this copy, I can ensure that you'll come back to New York soon to return it. And, if you do, no, when you do, the book is yours. I just want to make sure that you come back one day, because I do miss you.
I hope you're doing well. Let's talk soon.
Love,
Ezra
It took Aria a few moments for her to pick up her jaw and understand what he had just given her. She placed the letter on the table and picked up the book again, turning it every which way in her hands. She was holding a $25,000 book in her hands. Sneaking a quick peek at the clock, 9:00 PM, she realized that she would have to wait until tomorrow to get in touch with him.
Until then, she was going to have to find a safe place to keep this book. Not only because it was essentially priceless, but also because it meant a lot to Ezra, she was sure. Once she found a safe hiding spot, she snuggled back into the couch, opened the book and immersed herself in the world the words painted.
Ezra woke up late that morning, or, more precisely, afternoon, and immediately racked his mind, attempting to determine if there was anything that needed to be done. A smile crossed his face as he realized that there was absolutely nothing that he needed to accomplish this weekend, a rarity in the life of a teacher. The beeping sound emanating from his laptop broke him out of his state of euphoria, earning a groan. It was probably an email from another staff member, asking if he could help them with a random task.
He unwillingly pulled the warm covers off of himself and opened the blinds, basking the room in a warm and sunny glow, and grabbed his laptop, making his way back to the bed.
'Aria Montgomery would like to video chat with you. Accept?' a popup on his computer read. He laughed, grateful that it wasn't another teacher asking for help on a Saturday morning, and more grateful that it was a chat with Aria that woke him up. Realizing he was without a shirt, he quickly grabbed the one he took off and threw onto the bed last night before falling asleep and put it on, clicking accept.
"Hey!" Aria said with a wave. Before he could even respond, he watched as she squinted her eyes, appraising his appearance. "You just woke up, didn't you?" She accused.
"No! Of course not! Why would you say that?" Ezra asked, wondering how she knew. Maybe it was the pillows behind him that indicated he was in bed? Or maybe it was the wrinkled shirt? Or maybe-
"Maybe because your hair is in a state of total disarray, sticking up in every way possible?" she answered with a laugh.
Ezra reached up and touched his hair. Just as she had said, his hair was a complete mess. He could tell without even looking at it.
"Told you so. But don't worry, it looks cute. Reminds me of our Saturday mornings together with cartoons and sugary cereal."
Ezra laughed, "Yeah, I definitely miss those days." He cleared his throat, feeling a little bit uncomfortable rehashing their past through a video chat. "So, I take it you got my package?"
"I can't believe you sent me that. Through USPS, nonetheless! You couldn't have at least gotten it certified or something? They just left a $25,000 book on my front porch!"
"You know it doesn't matter how much the book is worth."
"Ezra," she admonished.
"Okay," he admitted, "It does matter. But that's besides the point. I just wanted to make sure that you had at least one reason to come back to New York eventually."
He watched her arch her right eyebrow. "At least one reason? You know I have four as it is, not counting bringing the book to you."
"Really?" he asked, curiosity piqued. He couldn't resist asking, "Name them."
"Spencer, Hanna and Emily, for starters," Aria replied easily. She hesitated for a moment.
"What's the fourth?" Ezra asked, not being able to hide the hopefulness in his voice. Say me, say me, he thought in his mind.
Ezra watched as Aria tucked a hair behind her ear, fidgeting nervously. "Well, you, obviously."
Ezra laughed softly, "Well, I just wanted to make to make sure you had a fifth. Just in case the four of us weren't reason enough."
"Either that or you just like to agitate me, forcing me to keep a ridiculously expensive book here in my house without any sort of protection," Aria muttered.
Ezra lightly released the breath he didn't even realize he had been holding back, clearly thankful that awkward part of the conversation was over. "Aria, you've seen our apartment building. I've been holding onto that book in my apartment for the last five years. It's more likely to get stolen here than it is over there, don't worry about it."
"That's not possible, but I'm willing to try," Aria looked around, "Let's not talk about this right now. I'm in a public place, and you never know who's listening."
"Yes, because there's definitely people looking to steal a-", Ezra didn't even get to finish his sentence before Aria shushed him.
"If you want to make sure I come back to New York holding that thing safely in my hands, you're going to keep your mouth shut. I'm at work, anyone can hear you!" Aria hissed.
Ezra stifled another laugh; he loved when she got overworked about something so trivial. "Fine, as you wish. Speaking of work, how is it? Shouldn't you be working on a top secret, front page story right now?"
He watched as Aria rolled her eyes, "You should know me better than that. When it comes to anything having to do with writing, I'm done with it as soon as possible. I already have everything turned in, so I'm just hanging out in my office, waiting to see if anyone needs my help."
"Always the overachiever."
"That's what you always loved about me," she retorted, an easy smile on her face. Aria narrowed her eyes at him once more, "Wait, why are you still in bed? It's, like, almost one!"
Ezra held his hands up, "Hey, give me a break, it's the weekend and I don't have anything to do for once. Let me enjoy the little free time I have." He watched Aria's face drop minisculely before backtracking. "Which, you're letting me do, since I get to talk to you."
Aria scoffed, "Nice save." He faintly heard the sound of someone knocking on the door. "Hold on a sec," she said, calling 'Come in!' and turning to see who came through the door.
His brows furrowed as he saw a tall man in an impeccably well-tailored black suit walk through the door, lighting up a smile on Aria's face. "Tristan! Come over here really quick, I want you to meet someone." He watched as another face filled the screen next to Aria.
"Ezra, this is Tristan Hill, my boss," she said, gesturing to the man standing beside her. "Tristan, this is Ezra Fitz…" he watched as she trailed off, clearly unsure of what to introduce him as, "Um, one of my closest friends from Rosewood."
Ezra forced a smile on his face as he waved to Tristan, "Nice to meet you."
"So you're the famous Ezra Fitz! Hopefully one of these days I'll be able to meet you in person? Aria's told me so much about you."
Ezra couldn't help but hold back his surprise at that tidbit of information, "She has, has she?"
"Don't worry, it's only been good things," Tristan said with a laugh. He turned to address Aria, "Anyway, I needed to talk to you about something, but it seems like you're busy right now. It's not very important, it can wait. Just meet me in my office before you leave for lunch."
Aria was about to agree, when Ezra stepped in, "No, it's fine, you guys talk. I have to get going, anyway."
Aria looked at Ezra curiously, "You sure?"
"Yeah, don't worry about me, I have some things to take care of."
"Okay, if you're sure," Aria replied, giving in. "We'll talk again later. I miss you."
He smiled, "I miss you too."
"Thanks again for 'that thing'," she said, emphasizing the last two words, making him laugh. "Eighty-one more days," she whispered, obviously only for him to hear.
"I can't wait," he said. "I'll let you go, then. Talk to you later."
"Bye," she replied with a sad smile. A few seconds later, the screen went black. She was gone.
"So, what did you need to talk about?" Aria asked after she disconnected her conversation from Ezra. She motioned for Tristan to sit down in the chair in front of her desk.
He sat down in one fluid grace, crossing his legs and turning his attention to her. Even while he was sitting down, anyone could tell that he was gorgeous. Young, tall, blond haired, blue eyed, muscular, well-dressed, came from old money and had degrees from Stanford, Berkeley, UCLA and Harvard- he was every girl and their mothers' dream guy.
Aria couldn't lie, if she had met him before meeting Ezra, she would've probably fallen desperately in love with him. However, she did meet Ezra first, so there wasn't really anyone who could compare to him. He was her first and only real love, and there was no changing that. However, that didn't mean she didn't appreciate Tristan being easy on the eyes.
"It wasn't anything, really," he said, twiddling his thumbs, obviously attempting to buy time. "It's just, I have something I've been meaning to tell you ever since you started here."
"What is it?" Aria asked, thoughts fluctuating between anxious and concern. He looked so nervous, a side of him she had never seen. Granted, she had only known him for a little over a week, but that was besides the point, he was always debonair and charming, while also calm enough to handle any situation. It unnerved her seeing him so worked up.
"I'm sure you've noticed by now the way I act around you. No one here in the office really knows the real reason why, and I know they all have their suspicions. Which is why I decided to come to you directly, before they attacked you with their hypotheses."
"Tristan, you know you can tell me anything."
"I know, it's just, I don't want this to jeopardize our work area. I would hate for things to get awkward around here, especially since I love working with you."
"Tristan, please, just spit it out. You've got to tell me now, before I assume the worst," Aria said, terrified that her voice would give away the fact that she was scared to hear what he was going to say.
She watched as he took a breath and opened his mouth. "Aria, I…"
