"Hey, it's Hanna! Either I'm busy at the new sample sale, or my mom took my phone again. Either way, I'll have to get back to you later, so leave a message! Love ya!"

"It's Spencer again…please, can't we just talk? It's been two days, and I miss you. I can only say 'I'm sorry' so many times, but…well, I'm sorry. Please pick up. This is crazy…Hanna, please."

"Hey, it's Hanna! Either I'm busy at the new sample sale, or my mom took my phone again. Either way, I'll have to get back to you later, so leave a message! Love ya!"

"I guess I don't have to tell you who it is by now. Hanna…four days, and not a word? Come on. I really need to talk to you…please. I love you. Don't do this. I…am so sick of saying I'm sorry, but I'll say it as many times as I have to, as long as I'm saying it to your face and not to your voicemail! Please, Hanna, just give me a call."

"Hey, it's Hanna! Either I'm busy at the new sample sale, or my mom took my phone again. Either way, I'll have to get back to you later, so leave a message. Unless you're Spencer, in which case, back the hell off."

"….really Hanna?"

"The number you are trying to reach has a voicemail box that is already full. Please try again at a later time."

"Please, just...call me." Spencer said to Hanna's voicemail for what felt like the hundredth time, even if it was futile, settling back against the bench outside the main office, taking a deep breath. She could do this. She could get through this, through Hanna's glacial anger. It would be a hard trek, but one that was worth it, because her girlfriend would be waiting for her at the end of it. Things would go back to normal, to the way they were supposed to be.

Oh for the love of God, who was she kidding? She leaned forward, burying her hands in her face, struggling not to burst into tears. Tthere was no denying it, she had beyond royally fucked up, and even if it had been an accident or that she'd had good intentions, Hanna had a right to be angry with her. She even had a right to not take her back, if they had actually broken up, which was something Spencer wasn't sure of.

All of it came upon her like a firestorm, all at once. All of the guilt and the confusion and the pain of simply being without her, it all came rushing at her, crashing down around her until she was surrounded by it, consumed by it. A sob tore from her throat unexpectedly and another snuck out and and another until she had no resistance against them and she was suddenly having a full blown meltdown right there in the hallway where anyone could see.

"Spencer?" She was shocked by the hand on her shoulder and jumped up, wiping the tears from her eyes frantically before she even knew who it was. When her vision finally went somewhat clear, she was a little shocked - and a little embarrassed - to see her new AP Government student teacher standing above her, with a look of intense concern etched on her features.

"Miss Laughlin!" She gasped, wiping at her eyes again to remove any traces of the eye make-up she'd half-heartedly put on that morning, with the sinking feeling that it might get ruined. "I'm really sorry, I just..." She trailed off, closing her mouth, shaking her head like a stubborn child. Even just contemplating the idea of discussing it with someone made it all come rushing in again, except two fold this time. She hated getting emotional in front of her friends...let alone authority figures and perfect strangers. Kyle Laughlin was a combination of the two, which only made it worse.

"First off., call me Kyle." She started, as Spencer finally looked up at her. This was the first time she'd been in close proximity with the woman, and she was startled to realize how young she really was. She couldn't have been more than twenty two, her average height making her almost indistinguishable from the students she was learning to teach. Her dark hair was pin straight, pulled into a ponytail with some strands falling in her face, her eyes as dark as her hair, peering at her gently. (Though this did little to put her at ease.) "I'm not really into all of that formal Ms. and Mr. bullshit, okay? Second of all, Spencer, I'm your teacher." She sighed. "For all intensive purposes, anyway. And you're my student, and it is my job to help you, whether you're having issues in class or...a hysterical meltdown in front of the main office."

"It's nothing." Spencer said quickly, shaking her head, not even sure where to begin with the situation, even if she did want to talk about it with her. "Really...there's nothing you can do." This was the truth, as far as Spencer knew. Once Hanna set her mind to something, particularly to something like this, to freezing someone out, to cutting someone off that had hurt her...well, it was oneof her specialties. She'd perfected it. And now Spencer herself had fallen victim to it.

"Spencer." Kyle said firmly. "If there's something I can help with, its relationship troubles. Come on, spill...you look like you at least need a really good listener." Spencer hesitated, glancing down as the words came to a crashing halt at the tip of her tongue. No...even if Kyle did seem genuine and sweet and concerned, it would onlybring more harm than good to talk about it...right? "What. Did the boyfriend pull a dick move or something? It hqppens...we've all been there."

"No." Spencer said suddenly, hating the idea of anyone thinking she wasn't at fault here. "No, actually..." She swallowed hard, the memory still so hard to recall without tearing up. "I'm the one who messed up. It was my fault."

"Well, you're a smart girl." Kyle said, after a long moment, shrugging. "Whatever happened, whatever it is that you did...well, if anyone can find a way to fix it, it's you. You're the smartest student I've ever met. Ever taught."

"No." Spencer said again, shaking her head. "It isn't that simple. I...really fucked it up. Told someone something I shouldn't have. I can't exactly take it back. There's no fixing it." Spencer shook her head, bowing it as her voice broke, sobs once again piling up in the back of her throat. This was the first time she had admitted that to herself, and as much as she believed it to be true, it still hurt like hell. Because this was something she couldn't fix. "I broke their trust, I can't...I'm a..." She couldn't even get the word out, it made her that sick to her stomach. The concept if being a...well, being a failure was not something was used to.

"Hey." Kyle tilted Spencer's chin up with her fingertips, brushing her dark curls out of her face. "Buck up, Spencer. Because you know what? You have a good heart. Others might not see it, but it's there. Underneath all of that severity and ambition. Whatever you did, whatever you said, I'm guessing that you did it with the best of intentions. I mean...you clearly care about this person. You're in the middle of a meltdown over them, that's how much you care. And if they want to walk away from someone that cares about them that much? That is their failure, Spencer. Not yours. Never yours."


Spencer had never skipped school so often in her life – even when she had mono in the ninth grade. Her mother stuffed her with antibiotics and caffeine and sent her on her way. She wrapped herself in bubble wrap to avoid damage to her spleen during practice. It wasn't the smartest thing in the world to do, she knew that, but she'd do anything to avoid missing as much school as possible.

Now, not so much. For the past five days, she'd been going half the day or not at all. Skipping classes to avoid Hanna one day, going to them just to see her the next day, dying for a glimpse of her. (These were the classes that Hanna usually found an excuse to vacate early in the period, and never return to.) Her parents were out of town, and the school didn't have the permission to call Melissa in their stead, so as long as she stayed out of her sister's way, no one had any idea – not that she cared. At this point, the only reason she got out of bed in the morning was the ever diminishing hope that she might be able to get Hanna back – if the blonde ever decided to listen to her.

Of course, in order to get that to happen, she would have to enlist some help. She'd realized that at this point, the point of all the desperate voicemails and doors closed in her face and glares sent her way from Hanna, and Emily and even Mona (who knew only of their falling out as friends.) Like always, she'd tried doing it on her own, sure she could manage it. But as the five days dragged on, her school attendance growing worse and worse as her ability to deal with anything beyond her mission to regain Hanna's affections dwindled to nothing, she had realized she couldn't do it alone. After all, the entire issue was that she hadn't been alone…so she couldn't fix it alone either.

She pulled up in front of the Grille, taking a cursory glance around to make sure there was no one she knew lurking nearby before slipping out of the SUV. "Toby?" She asked, as she pushed open the clear glass door to find the Grille empty, aside from the aforementioned boy. He was behind the bar, taking extra care in wiping it down.

"Didn't expect to see you here so soon." Toby said, not looking up from the bar until it was clean, resting his unyielding gaze on her. It was equal parts comforting and unnerving – comforting in that even in the chaos that her life had dissolved into, there were still things that remained steady and unchanged, but unnerving in the way that she still couldn't quite tell what he was thinking. "What do you need?"

"Would you believe that I'm just here to talk?" She asked, letting the door close behind her as she stepped inside, gripping the strap of her messenger bag. Toby's only response was a raised eyebrow, drawing a sigh from Spencer. "Well…okay, so I do need a bit of a favor." She said quickly, sitting down on one of the bar stools. "But…okay, there's no 'but' about it, I just need your help."

"Spencer Hastings, admitting that she needs help?" Toby asked, sounding almost amused as he set a glass down on the bar, filling it with seltzer. "Now, this is something I have to hear about."

Spencer sighed, taking the glass, but not drinking from it. "Ha ha." She said derisively, looking balefully up at Toby. "Hanna broke up with me. Again. And I need your help because this time, it was because someone anonymously send her a picture of you and me kissing the other day.

"…I hope you don't think I sent that picture." Toby said after a long pause.

"Of course I don't, Toby." Spencer said defensively. "Why would you even think that? I know you'd never do anything to hurt me, and besides, you were kissing me. How could you have even begun to have sent that picture?"

"Sorry, just…" Toby trailed off, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. What do you need me to do? Anything for you."

Spencer's heart wrenched at how heartfelt he sounded and for only an instant, she wondered if Hanna's worry about him wasn't entirely unfounded. But the moment passed. "I need you to talk to her. Tell her that it wasn't…that it didn't mean anything, and you were just…"

"Just what?" Toby looked like a puppy that had been kicked, and Spencer felt physically sick for asking him to do this. "Comforting you?"

"Yeah…" Spencer said softly, looking down at the bar. "I'm…I'm really sorry, Toby. I know this isn't easy for you."

"It doesn't matter what I think." Toby said, reaching over and covering her hand with his own. His hand was warm, rough from his carpentry projects no doubt, and she couldn't help but turn her hand over to hold his. He momentarily looked surprised, but quickly slipped back into his inscrutable state. "…I just want you to be happy, remember?"

"Well…if you could get her to meet you here, I'd appreciate it." She pulled her hand back as she remembered that this closeness was what had gotten her in trouble in the first place.

"I'll…give it a whirl." Toby said, taking Spencer's glass and drinking a little from it. "What makes you think she'll talk to me?"

"She won't talk to me." Spencer sighed. "And I'm hoping she'll at least have a misplaced desire for revenge that will lure her here."

"So you're putting me in the line of fire?" Toby raised an eyebrow again, making Spencer squirm a little, and not in a good way.

"…anything for me, right?" She asked, slipping off the barstool, looking up at him.

He nodded, and she relaxed as she saw the corner of his mouth twitch up into a slight smile. "Anything for you, Spencer."

"Spencer?" A female voice cut into their quiet conversation, and Spencer turned around, only to see that it was none other than Kyle Laughlin, her student teacher, and someone who could definitely get her in trouble.


Spencer took a deep breath, splashing cold water in her face to wake herself up, getting worn down after her string of sleepless nights. While Kyle's advice had put her somewhat at ease, it was hard to translate that into being alert. She glanced up at herself in the mirror, her eyes rimmed red from the last few nights of little sleep, torn between lying there and staring at her ceiling, begging for sleep to come, and being torn from it suddenly, by fevered nightmares about Hanna and Melissa and Toby and Kyle, for some reason.

Kyle was right, she reminded herself often. She cared about Hanna, a lot. Maybe she hadn't meant to tell her mom about her flirting with an eating disorder, in the end, that was what was best, right? She'd thank her later when she was healthy and happy. She had only done the right thing, surely Hanna would be able to see that. Or at least see that she cared, and come back, even if she didn't agree.

Spencer's train of thought suddenly splintered as Hanna, of all people, rushed past her into the empty bathroom, bashing though one of the first stalls, dropping her purse on the ground and retching. Spencer looked away for a second, before moving forward, scooping Hanna's short hair away from her face, kneeling behind her, remaining quiet, even though she knew her point had probably just been proven.

They remained there in silence for a minute, Hanna sagging back against Spencer slightly before she jerked away. "Don't you dare say a word to me, Spencer Hastings, I am hungover." She snapped, glancing back at her. "I know what you're fucking thinking, and it's not any of your business – "

"The hell it isn't." Spencer straightened up, brushing off her knees as she looked down at Hanna, who was still curled up on the floor. "I don't care what you think, Hanna. I care about you. Like…a lot, okay?" She glanced behind her to make sure they were still alone before she looked back at her, folding her arms over her chest. "I am not only your girlfriend, but I was just your friend once too, and if this is really the end, then I still want to be your friend. And that means helping when I can, even if you don't want it. You need it, Hanna. I know you don't understand that, and I know you can't see it, but you do. And I want to help you, and so does your mom. This isn't the end of the world, okay? I just want you to be okay, that's all. You deserve that and I want that for you, and I don't think it's right for you treat me like some…pariah for trying to give that to you."

"Spencer, it's not any of your business." Hanna hissed again as she braced herself on the stall door to stand. She looked a little shaky on her feet, but her expression was so determined that Spencer almost didn't notice the weakness in her stance. "You think that just because you get straight A's and you know what the capital of Paraguay is, you can run around and tell people what they can and can't do. Newsflash, Spencer, you don't know everything. You aren't Oz, the great and powerful, and I am not your little ruby slipper wearing slave! I'm not going to go kill the witch for you, just because you think it's a good idea. I will handle my problems the way I see fit, and that's that. I am not letting you meddle."

"But I'm your – "

"You are my girlfriend, Spencer." Hanna cut her off. "Maybe. I still have to think about that. But that's…you're not my therapist. You're not my teacher, you're not….you're not in a position to tattle on me, it's not like I'm in any danger. It's not like it's bad. I will decide if and when I need help. You can't do that for me. I know you mean well, but this…this is out of your place, and out of your league. I don't care how many books or articles you've read about it or whatever, but I'm not…I'm not one of those statistics, and I never will be, okay?" Hanna's voice lapsed gently for a moment, before she hardened up again. "Just…leave me alone, please." She brushed past her, and Spencer tried to reach for her hand, to pull her back, to plead with her or something, but with just a brief meeting of their fingertips, she was gone, slipping out of her fingertips yet again.


"M-Miss Laughlin!" Spencer's stomach sank as she stammered out the name. Shit. Shit. This wasn't going to work if she had to spend all her time in detention for skipping school. Not that she didn't deserve it, but…she paused as it really hit her - for once, something was more important than that, and if she wasn't so preoccupied with saving her relationship, that idea would have scared her. "I can explain…" She added weakly, her shoulders sagging as she realized she really couldn't without getting herself into even more trouble.

"How many times have I asked you to call me Kyle?" She replied, raising one eyebrow as she was wont to do, leaning against the wall of Grille. Spencer glanced behind her and saw that Toby had disappeared to parts unknown, leaving them alone. "Really now? We aren't even in school…which is another problem entirely."

"I know." Spencer sighed, looking away. "I've turned in all my work, though. And I can get the notes from Emily, for most things, or from the other AP students, I swear. My grades haven't dropped at all, and…wait, why aren't you in school?"

Kyle smirked. "I'm playing hooky too. As much as I love it, teenagers are a handful, and sometimes, I need a day off too. I won't tell if you won't."

Spencer relaxed a little, even allowing herself to smile. "Sounds like a deal to me, Kyle."

The other brunette beamed. "I'm just here for some take-out, actually – thank you, Toby." She said, as she took a bag from the boy who had suddenly appeared. "And I'm headed back to my loft…which is upstairs, lame, I know, but I'm a poor college student." She shrugged. "Anyway, if you don't have anywhere else to go, I was just going to pop in a movie and probably fall asleep…I wouldn't mind a little company. And you can let me know what's bothering you."

"I – how do you know something's bothering me?" Spencer asked, surprised by both her invitation and her insight.

"Please." Kyle said. "You're not in school, and with the kind of student you are, it has to be something big keeping you out. Plus you never told me how that whole confrontation went…and I'd have to assume that it didn't go well. Which means you need someone to talk to, and I'm a really good listener…"

Spencer hesitated, so unused to the idea that she had someone to confide in, to let know the whole story, the full picture. "I…I'd like that." She finally said, pulling her bag back onto her shoulder. "Lead the way." She hesitated again as Kyle smiled, turning to lead her out the door and into the entrance to the lofts upstairs, tucked away secretly by the plate glass window of the Grille. She ultimately followed her up, the smell of raw wood stinging her nose, reminding her of the way Toby had always smelled when he had been working on something. The memory was so bittersweet that it caused a physical pang, shooting off and banging around in the empty space that had been worn away in her chest after so much heartbreak. She could practically hear the bells clanging in her head, echoing as she ran her hand along the smooth wooden bannister, going up the stairs mindlessly, so lost in it that she almost walked right into Kyle, only breaking free from her trance as she heard the jingle of keys.

"You alright?" Kyle asked, as she pushed the door open with her hip, setting the bag of takeout down on a side table. "You look like a zombie."

"Sorry." Spencer said, setting her bag down carefully, standing awkwardly by the door, glancing around the apartment. It was homey, and neat, exposed beams, big windows that made the small space seem airy, and much larger than it was in actuality. The furniture was patchwork, lived in, the couch draped with a blanket that reminded Spencer of the one time she and her parents had gotten stranded in New Mexico on their way to Hawaii, and she'd spent a lot of time wandering the marketplace. There were candles and books everywhere, and there was the scent of raw wood still, but also cinnamon, which took the edge off and made it something different. "I was just…remembering." And that was all it was…a bittersweet memory. Nothing more than the ghosts of her past drifting by to haunt her, ghosts that she had become friendly with, that she no longer feared unless they snuck up on her, like they just had.

"Okay…so, what's up, exactly?" Kyle asked, pulling out one of the containers and dropping down onto the couch, turning on the TV which was already queued up to play The Wizard of Oz.

"More of the same." Spencer said, carefully moving around the couch, sitting on the edge of it. "I fucked up…again. And I don't think I can fix it this time." She shrugged, looking down at her folded hands. "I'm going to try, though…I mean, I have to. I have nothing left." She looked over at Kyle. "I know that sounds stupid…I'm only seventeen. I have my whole life ahead of me. But that's…I can't help but feel like that. Even when everything is telling me that what I'm feeling is wrong."

Kyle shook her head. "No, Spencer. It doesn't matter how old you are. I'd…like to think that most teenagers are actually the most emotionally healthy people at any given moment. Don't scoff at me!" Kyle said, as Spencer reacted. "You guys know how to feel. Really. You…feel it all in the span of a few hours. You really get it out there. As you get older…you forget how to feel. I've seen it happen, with friends, with my parents…you concentrate on your job, and your kids, and your responsibilities, except for those brief, shining moments that make you feel alive…you lose the energy and the time to sit there and just…feel. So, never, ever say that what you feel is stupid, or wrong. Because you do know what you're feeling. And even if it hurts…embrace it. Own it. Remember it. Because you're going to look back, years from now, and think…'Wow, I sure was miserable, and it was worth every second of it.'"

Spencer just stared. Over the course of the past several weeks, she had gotten better advice from this woman – who couldn't be more than five years older than her, and didn't have much of a reason to care about her – than she had from anyone else before. "How did you get so…?" She trailed off as she realized she didn't even know how to describe it.

Kyle smirked, leaning over and starting the movie. "Oh Spencer, I never kiss and tell."


It was going to be another sleepless night spent playing the piano with the white waterfall of moonlight cascading through the window as her only company. Spencer sighed to herself as she wistfully drew her fingers over the cool ivory of the keys. Her light touches weren't enough to register into actual notes, but the action was calming, and she could imagine she was running her hands over something else. Well, someone else, really. Try as she might, she couldn't keep her mind off of Hanna, off of what she'd said. They weren't technically broken up, she'd made that clear enough, but she couldn't help but grieve for them, what they had lost. The time, the trust, the intimacy, everything…even if they survived this, there were still casualties. And it was all her fault, every bit of it. She'd messed with things she didn't understand, yet again, and made things worse for herself, and worse for Hanna. Even if she could forgive her, Spencer wasn't sure if she could forgive herself.

"You're begging for the truth, so I'm saying it to you. I've been saving your place, but what good does it do? Now I'm just a basket case…" This song was the one song she had actually learned how to play, after her split with Toby she had found its lyrics oddly comforting. Not that her vocals were spectacular or anything, but it felt nice, to just pour it out into words and music and just let it go. So caught up she was that she didn't notice the window darken from a shadow before it was deftly slid open, a small figure dropping down in the small space between the wall and the window. Footsteps masked by piano notes, Spencer didn't notice until she glanced up to brush her hair out of her face, shrieking and tipping backwards off the edge of the piano bench, just barely managing to catch herself. "Hanna?" She gasped, too caught up in her shock to be pleased to see her. "What the hell was that?"

"You taught me how to get in if the door was locked and the light wasn't on in your bedroom window…" Hanna said, shrugging. "Remember?"

Spencer shook her head. "No." She said, mostly because she couldn't even think about it right now, think about anything but her being here as the shock began to wear off. "You're here…I didn't think…" She trailed off as Hanna slipped into her lap, her breath hitching in her chest. It had been seven days since they'd last touched any more than fingertips, and although it was a relatively short time, Spencer was still starved for her and it felt like sensory overload. "Hanna…"

"I'm sorry." Hanna stopped her, two fingertips against her lips, her change in demeanor sudden, confusing…but welcome. Spencer relaxed slightly as she heard those words, pulling Hanna's hand away from her mouth and down into her lap. She traced the back of it lightly as she listened, feeling as though she was falling under a spell. "Not that I'm…happy with what you did, but…nobody cares about me like you do, Spencer. You're intense, and…and I knew that when I signed up…" She slid her hands to Spencer's shoulders. "I should have expected you'd go above and beyond everything, even what I wanted, just to help me. Just to take care of me. And most of all, I should have never gotten so upset when you were just…being you. I…I like you." She said softly, leaning in, Spencer's eyes never leaving her features, caught up in her words, her apologies, in the idea that everything could be back to normal, forgetting how utterly sudden this change of heart was, how abrupt. She could focus on nothing more than the fact that she had her back, somehow, after everything that had happened, after everything they'd been through.

"I forgive you." Spencer whispered, gazing at her, hand falling to the soft line of her waist, pulling her closer. "I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you." She repeated in the same soft tone as she leaned in, burying her face in her neck, just needing to feel her. "I hate fighting with you, I miss you so much…"

"Spencer…" Before she knew it, Hanna's lips were crashing against hers, and no conscious thought was possible. How many nights had she laid awake, haunted by the ghosts of her kisses, starved by them? She was so hungry for her that she dove in without a second thought. The notes on the piano were sour, but she had never heard anything sweeter, never felt anything like this, not even compared to all the other times they'd done this. Hanna's hands clasped the back of her neck, her legs wrapping around her waist as Spencer pushed her up against the piano, hands slipping under her shirt, practically ripping it off her head, breaking the kiss for only that moment. Never before had she been so desperate for her – sure, she could blame the time they'd spent apart, the distance, the emotions she'd struggled with, but something about it felt different. She couldn't place it, couldn't even tell what it was, but Hanna gripped tighter, bit harder, kissed deeper. "I want you." She gasped, breaking a kiss, holding Spencer's face in both hands, barely stopping to catch her breath as she pressed her forehead to Spencer's. "I want you so bad…" She gasped, arching her hips down against hers, Spencer biting her lower lip to keep from having an audible reaction. "Spencer, please…"

"You don't even have to ask." Spencer whispered, finally lifting her off the piano as she kissed her again, the heat building up in her like the swell of a wave, her chest heaving with the intensity that ripped through her. She staggered backwards up the stairs, dragging Hanna with her until she slipped and landed on her back, just barely managing to avoid hitting her head on the staircase.

"Are you alright, baby?" Hanna whispered, dropping down beside her. Spencer could barely get out a nod before she rolled over on top of her, gripping her shoulders hard as she kissed her. Spencer could barely bear it, how she felt against her, the things her kiss drew out in her, feelings she'd only ever sought to hide, or bury. She spent so much of her time trying to control and contain the parts of herself that she didn't like or want or understand…it wasn't until Hanna had happened to her that she realized that if she let herself feel all of it instead of try to push it away…if she let Hanna draw out the things she had once considered the worst, wanton parts of herself, it was beyond anything she'd ever felt, in every possible way.

"Don't stop." Spencer gasped, digging her nails into Hanna's shoulders as the blonde's lips were wrought from hers and instead against her neck, her hot breath and gentle yet deliberate touches driving her more wild than she'd ever admit. "God, Hanna, don't you dare stop…my parents won't be home until tomorrow night, and…just don't stop."

Hanna's expression was positively wicked. "I won't, babe. Count on it." And with every passing second, the hole that had worn itself into Spencer's insides – solely from the turmoil of being so starved for Hanna – began to heal.


"For someone so open, I hardly know anything about you." Spencer said, standing up off the couch, restless. She'd gotten a text from Toby, letting her know that Hanna had agreed to meet him when he got off work at six. She glanced at the clock and sighed heavily when she saw it was only four, looking over her shoulder at Kyle. "You have a taste for takeout, and you like politics, and you're like my own personal Yoda. That's it."

Kyle shrugged, swilling her glass of red wine around – she'd staunchly refused to give Spencer any, but hadn't restrained herself from drinking a little. "Maybe that's just because you haven't asked the right questions, Ms. Hastings."

"Oh, so it's Ms. Hastings now?" Spencer asked, turning fully on her heel, raising a brow. "What happened to your dislike of the formal?"

"It ran away with your dislike of the informal, apparently." Kyle replied. "But, like I said, if you want to know, just ask. I am an open book…mostly. Except where I've ripped pages out to hide them from people, but there aren't many of those instances. Anyway…ask away." She reclined back against the couch, watching Spencer expectantly.

"What year were you born?" Spencer asked after a moment of looking back at her, but suddenly turning away. She felt uncomfortable, but not in a normal way.

"1989." Kyle answered instantly.

"Where did you rank in your high school class, out of how many?" She asked, glancing at the diploma framed on the wall.

"112 out of around 400." Kyle said, after a moment of contemplation. "I would have been much higher up, but…I made quite a few decisions that you would probably consider poor, which affected my schoolwork and got me kicked out of National Honors Society. My parents were furious."

Spence turned to look at her, a question about these so called poor decisions on the tip of her tongue before she froze for a moment. "…who's this?" She asked quietly, stepping over to the end table next to the couch, picking up a framed photo. The frame itself was what had caught her attention at first, heavy, tarnished silver metal, but the image ended up being the far more fascinating part. Kyle was in it, of course, laying on the beach, clawing at the sand as the waves washed up over her. It was very obviously staged to look like she was being dragged out to sea, but it was quite deftly done, with seaweed wrapped around one of her ankles for good measure, looking like the tentacle of some horrible sea creature. But the woman next to her was the most intriguing part of all. She was blonde, hair down to her shoulders, halfway through drying, hanging around her face in ill-defined spirals. Instead of a swimsuit, she was in acid washed cutoffs and a crop top that exposed her midsection, an intricate tribal tattoo crawling up the left side, disappearing beneath the hem of her shirt. Her face was alight, shiny with sunburn, but cast in such a textbook expression of glee that Spencer almost couldn't look away.

"Who's…" Kyle trailed up as she sat up further on the couch, shifting forward and pulling the frame out of Spencer's hands. "My ex." She said quietly, strained but not wistful in any way. "Now that's someone I haven't thought about in a while." She looked up at Spencer as she handed the frame back to her. "It didn't end well at all. I mean, it could have been worse, it could always be worse. But I…I try not to think about it."

"Then why do you have the picture?" Out of all of the things Spencer wanted to ask, that seemed the least invasive, the least offensive, even if she was dying to find a kindred spirit, someone caught in the same spot that she was.

"To remind myself that some people can't be trusted." Kyle spoke, with renewed steel in her voice, locking eyes with Spencer. "Not with your heart, not with anything." She glanced down at the empty seat on the couch beside her, her expression invitational as she looked back up at Spencer. "I can put on another movie, if you've got the time."

The warning seemed…rather ominous, and Spencer couldn't help but get an uneasy feeling in her stomach. But, still, she set the picture down on the table and curled back up on the couch – albeit on the opposite end. "Yes, I have time." She said, resting her aching head against the worn leather, wondering what the hell that woman had done to Kyle, and what she had been before this mysterious, world weary, advice giving student teacher? The thought was exhausting, and she didn't even know she had fallen asleep until Kyle was shaking her awake.

"Spencer?" The student teacher asked, and it was only then that Spencer realized her head had fallen onto Kyle's shoulder. (She smelled just like her apartment, cinnamon and raw wood, but also like flowers. Gardenias or something, Hanna had liked that. Wait, why was she smelling her teacher?) Spencer jerked away, rubbing her head, glancing at Kyle who looked concerned.

"Sorry…why didn't you wake me?" She asked, her voice muzzy from being caught in sleep.

"I fell asleep too." Kyle said, stretching, running her hands through her dark hair, fluffing it out a bit. "Didn't you have to be somewhere?"

"Oh…right." Spencer glanced around, becoming slightly more awake. "What time is it?"

"Ah…almost six?" Spencer was now fully awake, scrambling for her messenger bag. "…oh, that's when…okay, I'm sorry." Kyle said, watching as she picked up her things, stepping out of her way. "I was up a half an hour ago or so, I just…I wanted to let you sleep, you looked exhausted."

"It's okay." Spencer said, picking her coat up off the floor, wrapping it around herself, cold for more than one reason. "I just…I have to go." She paused at the door, looking over her shoulder at Kyle. "Thank you. You know…for everything." She said, smiling a bit before she started making her way down the stairs. She had left at just the right time too, because as she situated herself in the corner of the restaurant, hidden, mostly, behind a large plant and the hood of her coat pulled tight around her features, Hanna stepped inside.

She looked awful, and Spencer wasn't sure if that made it good for her or not, but she felt terrible as she looked at her, sweats, no make-up, short hair obviously unconditioned. Hanna sank down at a table, eyes glued to her phone, biting at her thumbnail, her blue eyes flicking to Toby, who was wiping down a table. Spencer looked to him for a minute too, before casting her eyes around the restaurant. It was empty except for one other boy, a redhead she had never seen before. Writing him off, she looked down at the table, waiting, only looking up as the bell to the door jingled, her jaw dropping as she laid eyes on the tall, bohemian blonde that slipped into the restaurant.

Sage wore a haughty expression, as though she knew exactly the chaos she was about to cause. Spencer leapt to her feet, hoping to distract her or something, get her out before Hanna could see, but it was already too late. There she was, leaning over Hanna, whispering something in her ear, the gesture so intimate that it made Spencer's blood boil. Before she could walk over, though, she caught the look on Hanna's face, and she knew what was going to happen before it happened. She found herself rooted to the spot, looking on helplessly as Hanna stood abruptly, punching Sage square in the jaw.


Spencer was pretending to sleep when Hanna started whispering. "This is so messed up."


It was all a blur, Spencer realized once it was over. A blur of limbs and shouting and herself rushing forward, almost slipping on the smooth floor, going for Sage as Toby reached over, wrapping a strong arm around Hanna's waist. Startled, the shorter blonde's fist flew up, hitting Toby in the eye, who was so startled that he instantly released her, falling back into the arms of the pale, redheaded boy who had become the accidental witness to this whole mess.

"Hanna!" Spencer snapped, jerking Sage out of the way of her, practically throwing her to the side before using her arms to deflect Hanna, who was moving too fast to divert her path before she flew into Spencer, almost knocking her over. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"That's right, you'd better run, bitch!" Hanna called over Spencer's shoulder, fighting her halfheartedly as the bell above the door jingled signaling her exit. "Spencer, let go of me!" She shoved at her shoulders.

"Hell no." Spencer snapped at her, actually finding herself getting angry at her, and at the situation. It didn't seem to matter what she did to convince Hanna that this was all a mistake, that she really did love her, and all she wanted in this world was to be with her, she didn't listen. Or everything backfired on her. It was like dominoes toppling down against her, more and more and more until she couldn't hold them up anymore. Or trying to keep the entire street dry during a rainstorm only using a funnel and a shot glass. Infuriating and impossible and yet, she was unable to stop trying.

That didn't stop her from getting infuriated, however. She dragged Hanna all the way into the walk-in freezer in the back. "You need to cool off, Hanna, dammit!" She snapped, wrapping her arms tight around her chest, trying to breath or focus or something, calm down so that all of her unexpressed anger at the universe didn't spontaneously erupt.

"What were you even trying to do?" Hanna threw her hands up, before pulling them back, holding her forehead, walking around in circles as the chilled air became more and more jarring and apparent.

"I was trying to make you see that Toby and I kissing weren't exactly a big deal." Spencer sighed, turning away from her. "That it didn't mean anything to me, and even if it meant something to him, we're done with that part of our lives. Both of us. He isn't – "

"It's not even about that anymore, Spencer, don't you see?" Hanna no longer sounded frustrated, just desperate, and that struck Spencer as not only odd, but unnerving – something she should be afraid of. "Have you stopped trying to get me back for one second? Have you taken enough time to just look around and think about this? About how screwed up this has been? Not only now, but since it's started? Everything we've had to deal with? That's not normal, and you know it. The pregnancy scare, the secrecy and the sneaking around and everything that's come from that, A, our…exes and hookups coming back to haunt the both of us…this isn't what relationships are like, and this isn't what ours should be like. And you have to know that it's true. We should have everything, but we don't. Spencer…" Hanna trailed off, stepping up towards her, gently laying her hands on her shoulders where not only a minute before, she was pushing her away. "I don't think we're meant to be."

"Hanna…" Spencer couldn't get anything else out before the blonde stepped up on tiptoe and kissed her, holding her by the shoulders. It was sweet, but not soft or gentle. Firm. To The point. Final. Her stomach dropped, her heart ached, but there was nothing she could do in that moment but kiss her back, because she knew that this time, Hanna wouldn't be changing her mind. Once the kiss broke, they locked eyes for a moment, Hanna patted her shoulder lightly, and then she was alone in the freezer, out of ideas and out of chances. She wasn't sure how she made it outside before she broke down, but it wasn't until she was sitting in the bench outside the Grille that she began to cry. She buried her face in her hands as the sobs piled up in her throat and she choked them out one by one, afraid to show her emotions in public. But really, she had no choice but to sit on Main Street and bawl over the remnants of the only thing she had left to fight for. The overwhelming sense of purposelessness crashed over her and she couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't think because of it. It consumed her, invaded her, until she couldn't hold back and she was openly sobbing, doubled over from the weight of everything coming down on her. The void was so deep, dark and gaping that she ached for emptiness, trembling, so enveloped in the unfolding starvation that she didn't notice the hand on her shoulder until Kyle was practically shouting at her.

"Spencer!" The brunette couldn't even look up, curling further in on herself, away from Kyle, devastated. She didn't stay that way for long, however, as Kyle grabbed her wrist, forcing her up off the bench. "Come on…" She couldn't see through her tears, but she could feel Kyle's arm around her shoulders, and smell the raw wood and cinnamon of her apartment and feel the worn leather of the couch against her skin as she collapsed down on it. "What happened? Should I call your parents, I…" She sounded beyond confused, and Spencer didn't blame her – she herself didn't even know what way was up anymore.

She shook her head to both accounts. "No." She choked out weakly, unable to repeat to her what had happened – she had spent every day of the past two months fighting tooth and nail to hang onto something, only to have it ripped away from her again and again and again. Hanna was probably right – she couldn't deny that. It had been so hard. She'd had to fight so much. Things weren't supposed to be like that, they weren't. And as much as she hated accepting any logic that left her without Hanna, it was just that…logic.

So why was she so devastated?

She tugged the blanket down around her shoulders from the couch, closing her fingers into it tightly, trying to force herself to calm down, taking breaths as deep as she could manage, counting to ten over and over again until she'd lost count of how many times she counted. She could feel Kyle's worried eyes on her, but she did nothing to ease that worry, she couldn't. In fact, she didn't pay attention to her until she tapped on her shoulder.

"Ah, Spencer, your phone's ringing." She said, trying to hand it to her. Before she could refuse, however, Kyle continued. "It's an unknown number."

Even knowing that, even with the certain jerking feeling in her stomach that came with that sort of call, she almost declined it. It was too much. But that was only almost, and after a moment, she gingerly took the phone from Kyle, shaking as she answered it. "Hello."

The voice was garbled, changed, deep and menacing and even though some part of her had been expecting it, Spencer jumped. "Tick tock, Spencer. If you want another chance with Hanna, you need to follow the yellow brick road. But if you don't find your way to the wizard in time, not even the ruby slippers will bring her back home. Tick tock…"


A/N: I'm tempted to present this without comment, but I'm not that mean. I'll try to get the next one up as soon as possible! (School might get in the way.) Only one left, and then the epilogue. For those of you who don't follow me on tumblr - what are you doing with your life if you aren't - the sequel has a title, and it's called Hourglass. I'm so excited for you guys to read it. And I'm getting all mushy and stuff because I've never come this far with a story before and it's really all because of you guys and wow I'm just overwhelmed.