Emily woke up in a panic, with no memory of how the night before had ended. Her throat was dry, and she really needed to get to the bathroom - for a couple of reasons.
She had fallen asleep – or passed out – in the outfit that she was wearing the night before, and her slacks had bunched up and grown tight around her thighs. But they weren't the only thing tight around her. She peeked through half-lidded eyes and deduced that she had fallen asleep in Paige's bed. With Paige. Spooned up against Paige. And Paige was clenching her in a death-grip.
Emily's panic-level - and the feeling that she was going to throw up - only increased with this realization. The only thing worse than waking up in Paige McCullers' bed would be for Paige to know that Emily had awakened in her bed. Emily tried to slip out of Paige's arms, but Paige just tightened her grip, muttering to herself.
"Oh, Mr. Snuffles," she said, still asleep, "you smell soooooooo good!" She took a deep whiff of Emily's hair. "Daddy must've used a new fabric softener on you."
Daddy? Emily did her best to stifle a giggle.
"And you'll never leave me, like everybody else." Emily heard the pain in Paige's voice, and her heart broke a little. It was hard for her to reconcile what she was hearing with "Paige the Rage" McCullers.
"And you're soooooooo soft," sleeping Paige continued. She began running her arms up and down Emily's cashmere sweater. When her hands landed where they didn't belong, Emily shrieked in surprise, and Paige's head whipped up.
Emily didn't know what to do. She couldn't let Paige find her like that. She quickly made her voice deep and said, "Go back to sleep, Baby. You're having another bad dream."
"I'm sorry, Daddy." Emily thought that she picked up a twinge of fear in Paige's tone. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"And give me Mr. Snuffles. You're a big girl, now!"
"I know, Daddy," Paige said, releasing her grip on Emily. "I'll be a big girl and go to sleep all by myself. And I'll swim really fast tomorrow and make you really proud."
Emily suddenly felt guilty for what she had said. She didn't mean to stir up childhood trauma for Paige. Even more, though, Emily wanted to cry over the fact that Paige, it seemed, was never secure in her father's love for her. That actually explained a lot. "Don't worry, Baby Girl. Just sleep. You know that your daddy loves you."
"I love you, too, Daddy," Paige said eagerly, almost desperately. Emily, out of the bed and on her feet, leaned over and gave Paige a kiss on the cheek that sent an instant smile across Paige's face.
"And you're sure that she wasn't having you on? Just to cop a feel?"
Emily breathed deeply. "I'm sure. I mean, that's the first thing that I thought. But the things that she said to me – Paige would never be that vulnerable on purpose."
"Has she ever talked in her sleep before?"
Emily shrugged, even though Aria couldn't see through the phone. "I don't know. If she got as wrecked as I did last night… Let's face it, there's no telling. Who knows what I was doing in my sleep?"
"And she hasn't said anything about it?"
"I haven't seen her, yet. I don't know how she's going to react."
"And you have no idea…"
"No, Aria." Emily answered Aria's question for what felt like the hundredth time. "I have no idea how I ended up in her bed."
"Are you going to ask her?"
Emily shrugged again. She didn't answer verbally, but Aria figured out the answer from her silence. "Too bad you didn't have a webcam on – like that girl in that lesbian vampire web series that you used to be so obsessed with!"
"You can't tell anybody about this, okay?" Emily warned, ignoring Aria's Carmilla comment. "Especially not Hanna!"
"Emily..." Aria's tone was cautious. If they had learned anything from high school, it was not to keep secrets from each other.
"I know," Emily whined, "but, just, you know, don't volunteer the information."
"Oh, right," Aria teased. "I was just about to call Hanna and say, 'Guess who spent last night passed out in the bed of the roommate who hated her guts back in high school!' "
"I know that you won't say anything," Emily conceded. "It's just... there's a reason I called you instead of Hanna."
"Yeah, I was wondering about that!"
"I've just... I've got enough to process with what happened last night. And you know how Hanna is..."
"She'll say something inappropriate that makes you re-examine everything?"
"Exactly. And I knew that you, on the other hand, would only say something appropriate to make me re-examine everything."
"Good one, Em! Nice save!"
Emily quickly got off the phone when she heard Paige's hand on the doorknob. Without thinking, she stashed her phone under the pillow, as if she were hiding evidence. She looked over at Paige with her usual half-smile, and Paige tipped her head, awkwardly, by way of greeting. Paige set her books down on her desk and turned awkwardly in her chair, trying to act casual.
Emily made Paige clear her throat a couple of times before she acknowledged that she was trying to get her attention and looked over in her direction. "So. Weird night last night, wasn't it?"
Emily smiled tentatively and nodded.
"What time did you make it home?"
"Yeah, I don't even know," Emily said honestly. "I woke up in the same clothes that I was wearing."
"You must've gotten up pretty early." Paige chuckled nervously. "You were gone by the time I woke up."
"Yeah. I really needed to go, and, while I was up, I just took a walk to clear my head."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
Emily looked awkwardly back down at the book that she had begun pretending to read, and Paige swiveled her chair back in the direction of her desktop. She started tapping her thumb on the desk, an annoying and distracting habit that always got on Emily's nerves. But Emily was seeing Paige a little differently now, with a more sympathetic eye. And she really wanted to know how much of the previous night – not to mention, that morning – Paige remembered.
"Listen," Paige and Emily blurted out at the same time.
"You first," Emily said deferentially.
Paige backed the chair away from her desk and walked over to Emily's bed, standing awkwardly as she played with the hem of her shirt. "Well, I got kind of wasted last night," Paige mumbled feebly, "and I don't really ever do that. But, sometimes, when I do get like that… well, I've been told that I talk in my sleep. And cry, sometimes. So, I don't know whether or not I said or did anything that might have freaked you out, but, you know. If I said anything – just, don't take it too seriously, okay? I just, you know. Get dreams."
Emily nodded. "Bad dreams?" she asked, her face scrunched in concern. Paige shifted a bit, as if she were going to sit down on the bed, so Emily bent her knees to clear her legs out of the way. But Paige just stood there, with her body turned slightly away from Emily, rubbing the back of her neck.
"Just…" She remembered how warm and comfortable she felt, holding Mr. Snuffles again. Definitely not a bad dream. A very good dream. But then, she remembered her father taking Mr. Snuffles away from her. "Just weird dreams," she concluded with a shrug.
"Well, if you ever need to talk…" Emily returned Paige's shrug.
Paige smiled, and said, with bravado, "Talking's not my thing, Fields!" She gave Emily a wink that was as close to a thank-you as Emily knew she would get, and turned back to her desk.
And Emily was left to wonder how much, if anything, her roommate truly remembered about that morning.
Emily couldn't say that she was surprised by this behavior. It was the same pattern that she had seen after Paige's freak-out on the airplane. Paige was polite enough to offer a thank-you, but beyond that, as far as Paige was concerned, the situation simply never happened.
And yet, Emily couldn't get beyond the things that Paige had said when her subconscious thought that she was talking to her father. One of the courses of study that Emily was considering majoring in was early education, and, in one of the introductory courses that she was taking, she had to read a lot of case studies on childhood trauma and its long-term effects. She couldn't imagine the kind of family life that Paige had grown up in, but she could understand how that background made her who she was. Emily sighed as she tried to decide whether or not it was a good idea to do what she was about to do. In the end, she just plunged in.
"Paige, is everything okay with you and your father?" Paige slammed her book shut and was about to respond, but, before she could, Emily blurted out, "Because, I know that it was just a dream, but, sometimes, dreams – especially recurring dreams – have some sort of reason behind them. And sometimes, it just helps to be able to talk about it. So, I guess, I just wanted to let you know that you can always talk to me. About anything. Emily quickly added, "And I'd like to think that I could talk to you, too." She hoped that last part would keep Paige from taking her offer as condescending, or thinking that Emily had picked up on some sign of weakness in her. "I mean, we're roommates, after all, and teammates."
Paige nodded her head in acknowledgment or thanks and turned back to her work. Emily, too, turned back to her work, content in the knowledge that she had, at least, made an effort. She held out hope that, sooner or later, that effort would pay off.
Things between them were even more awkward in the days that followed. Whenever Paige walked through the door, she took a look over at Emily's bed and desk and, if Emily was there, said, "Oh," dipped her head, and retreated to her own bed or desk.
As time went by, Emily stopped worrying about whatever childhood trauma had shaped Paige into what she had become. If Emily had learned anything from her high school relationships, it was that she couldn't fix everyone. And, if Paige wasn't even interested in talking things through, why should Emily even pretend that she could help her? Since Paige insisted on playing the role of the tough chick who didn't need anybody and who didn't talk about feelings, it didn't take Emily long to forget what she had heard from Paige's subconscious mind and go back to her previous pattern of silent tolerance of her roommate.
