Whoop! Do you guys know that super-excited, hyper, euphoric feeling you sometimes get when you're listening to really good music and reading/writing super feels-y Ezria fanfic? That's how I feel now… Ahh Ezria reunion in the writing right now… You guys should be excited Thanks for reading, and keep reviewing!

Kirleigh

-Thursday, August 30th-

Ezra

He checked his watch; it was nearly seven. Hardy had called a few minutes ago to let him know he was in Rosewood, and would arrive any moment. So Ezra stood at his window, looking out for the arrival of his friend.

Eventually a silver Corvette pulled up, and Ezra recognized Hardy in the driver's seat. He shook his head with a smile; the car perfectly represented the larger-than-life character of his college buddy. He buzzed Hardy in and opened his door when he heard footsteps in the hall; they clasped hands and hugged, each happy to see the other.

Ezra grabbed two cold beers and passed one to Hardy as they both sat on the couch. His friend looked him dead in the eyes for several moments, smirking, then popped open his beer and took a sip. "So, Z, who's the girl?"

'Z,' as he'd been known in college, hesitated. "What do you mean?" Hardy just rolled his eyes; he'd known Ezra for years, and seen him fall for girls before. Ezra could tell that no amount of bluffing would fool his old friend, and sighed.

"It's kind of a crazy story," he started, and paused, wondering if he really wanted to recount this now. But Hardy was raising an eyebrow at him, and he supposed it couldn't hurt. So he continued. "I met this girl about a month ago. Her name's Aria.

"She's ridiculously beautiful, and we had so much in common. She loves philosophy, literature, traveling, and all the music I like. We had this connection, Hardy. It sounds crazy, I know. But I completely forgot about Jackie when I was with her. I've barely thought about her since meeting Aria."

"Well, what happened?" Hardy frowned in confusion, sipping at his beer again. "If you guys totally hit it off, why do I get the feeling this story ends badly?" He leaned forward slightly, raising an eyebrow.

"She'd told me- well, she'd made it seem like she was going to graduate from Hollis, the local college, next spring. But the other night, right after I got back from New York, she told me… she's actually a senior in high school. The high school I'm going to start teaching at in a few days."

"Wow," Hardy muttered, thinking. "Listen, man, I can tell you still like her. But you know you can't do anything about it, right? If anyone found out you had a relationship with your own student, you'd lose your job in a second. And potentially get thrown in jail. I hate to say it, but you can't 'go with your gut' or anything on this one."

"Yeah," Ezra sighed, knowing he was right but wishing he wasn't. "I know. I've accepted that, I've made up my mind to pretend it never happened." He paused, swallowing. "I can't stop thinking about her, though. I've never felt this way about anyone… I feel like I'm giving something amazing up."

"Which you have to do," Hardy replied in a firm voice. "Ezra, this isn't a choice. You'd be giving up far more by trying to be with her. She's a kid, man." He paused, then clapped Ezra's shoulder and stood. "Come on, tonight you're going to show me the best bar in town. And we'll forget about Aria."

Aria

Three days, after today. Three more days of summer, of simplicity, of sanity. Then her rollercoaster would begin again; any hope of normalcy would be dashed. She was sure by the time school started, her family would have come to a decision- for better or for worse- and things would undoubtedly change. Aria sighed and shifted her place on her own bed, rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling.

Either her father would be moving out, and she would see him even less than she did now; or he'd be staying, and she would have to accept him into her life again. She wasn't entirely sure she could do that yet, forgive and forget; but she would respect and stand by whatever decision her mother and brother came to.

She'd never seen her mother so unsure; Aria was a compassionate soul, protective of her loved ones, and she hated seeing Ella like this. She could see the inner turmoil her mother was feeling- she was clearly still very much in love with Byron, but she wasn't sure she could trust him anymore.

Aria had friends with divorced or separated parents; Hanna's father had been estranged for years. Her mother, Ashely, had barely spoken ten words Tom since they'd been divorced years ago, and Hanna saw him only a few times a year.

But then again, Tom hadn't cheated on Ashely, nor had the two of them spent months trying to realize their own feelings. It had been a different situation entirely- Tom no longer felt the same way toward Hanna's mother, and moved out shortly before filing for divorce. Ashely was surprised, but it hadn't her long to realize it was much better that they spilt up; they hadn't really been in love for years, and young Hanna was the only thing keeping them together so long.

Aria almost wished this situation was so simple; she hated feeling so out of place in her own home. This was her fourth night in her own bed in the last month. She'd spent last night at Hanna's; she'd tried on all the pieces her beauteous blonde friend had saved for her and sewed rose appliques onto the cream-colored backless blouse.

But this incredible, awful, dizzying summer was about to end, and that meant one thing to Aria- she could no longer run. She could no longer hide the night out at a friend's, or spend the whole day at the mall or movie theater.

And, of course- it meant facing Ezra. Although she tried not to, she'd been thinking about him nonstop for hours. She'd come to the conclusion that he would probably ignore her as much as possible; he wouldn't want to even look at her.

Her vivid imagination had her re-and-replaying a scene of her walking into the classroom and Ezra's face immediately changing; recognition, a split second of softness, followed by a moment of regret, then his beautiful blue eyes would turn cold, and he would refuse to acknowledge her. She could imagine how in that moment, everything between them would officially be gone; as his gaze iced over, that would signify the closing of their beautiful mess.

Aria had to wipe her eyes now; she understood that she'd hurt him, that it would've been easier for both of them if she'd never approached him, but she wanted him to know so badly that she was hurt, too. She hated knowing she'd done this horrible thing to him. And although she knew it was selfish, never for a moment did she regret meeting him.

If she'd never gone over to him that night; if she'd never talked with him for hours about music and literature and traveling, or kissed him in a way that made her heart ache to remember; Aria wouldn't be this girl. She wouldn't be this girl who was even more stressed out than others about school starting, because she had a romantic history- and was still in love with- the English teacher.

But neither would she be this girl who had truly loved and lost, even if over a tiny span of time, and had learned to believe in true love. And she still did, even after all this; because the way she saw it, she had at least been given the chance for love. She had no doubt that Ezra was the perfect guy for her-they had just gotten a little sidetracked on the timing of it all.

So maybe now they would never end up together; maybe they'd lost their chance, or maybe they'd never had a chance in the first place. All Aria knew now was that she was unable to get him out of her head, but she couldn't do anything about it, and that was the single most frustrating thing in the world.

She rolled off her bed, sighing, and grabbed the notebook and pen she always kept on her desk. She then crawled back into bed, cocooning herself with pillows and blankets and curling her knees so she could set the notebook against them and write. She tapped her pen against the open, blank page, thinking.

Empty words

Brim-full phrases

I'll tell you a secret

If you die for me first.

She frowned at the words; she hated talking about death in her writing. Sometimes it just slipped out when she wasn't focusing. She crossed that bit out and sighed to herself. It was incredibly frustrating writing began to feel like a chore; she did love the feeling, but if she wasn't inspired it felt forced.

But that wasn't the problem now; she had more inspiration flickering inside of her now than there had been in ages. The problem was that she was pushing it back, refusing to acknowledge it. Because if she admitted what she really wanted to write about, she'd also have to admit how strong and persistent her feelings toward Ezra were. Aria swallowed and tried again, chewing her lip.

I won and lost and flew and fell

I sang and laughed and cried and now

I sit and hear the chiming bells

And wonder where I lost, and how

I question even ev'ry phrase

And if I ever had the right

To call you mine- I was amazed

By everything you said that night

The blame's on me, I have confessed

I made mistakes, that much is clear

But to tell all, I don't regret

For I knew love and held it dear

And even if I'll never know

Again the warmth of your embrace

I have mem'ries to cherish and grow

I'll never forget your gentle face

Aria paused her pen, still chewing her lip thoughtfully. She reread the poem a few times, frowning and thinking. It wasn't quite right; something wasn't there. Something about it was flat. So she flipped to a new page.

Lost without you, skidding through each day

A book long overdue, a note blowing away

I spin and I slip and I tumble and fall

And my heart is still yours; your love is my all

There is nothing to say, there is nothing to do

Still I wait and I wish and I hope and miss you

It still wasn't there, that final piece of the puzzle. Aria sighed dejectedly, then closed her notebook and put it back on her desk; something was missing from every word she wrote, but she couldn't quite tell what that was.

Spirit. Jubilation. Enthusiasm, maybe, she mused, crawling back underneath her comforter. She never had a problem getting the phrases out; it was just that at times like these, when her heart wasn't really in the words, they didn't mean anything to her. She couldn't connect with them, and since that was one of her favorite parts of writing, she would rather get a good night's sleep.

So she curled up underneath her covers, eyes wide open and staring at the wall. While she was both physically and mentally exhausted, it was hard to fall asleep when she knew that after tonight, she would have only seventy-two hours before she had to walk into that classroom and face her mess.

-Friday, August 31st-

Ezra

He'd been out until early morning with Hardy, and although he'd certainly enjoyed and appreciated it at the time, he was now feeling the aftereffects in a not-so-pleasant way. He hadn't woken up until ten, and even that had been with a spinning head. So he'd made his black tea, and coffee for Hardy once he woke up on the couch, and sat down with To Kill A Mockingbird.

He was determined not to think about Aria today; he had only three days to try and get at least partially over her, since after that he'd be seeing her every day. And he knew that once school started, this would all become so much harder.

Telling himself he'd only give himself until Hardy woke up, he let his mind drift to what Aria might be doing right now. He wondered how her family was, if everything had been worked out yet. And eventually, even as his common sense rebelled against it, he let his mind wander around to their last kiss.

He thought about how beautiful and serene she'd seemed, walking toward him in the fading summer light. He'd had a flashback of the first time he saw her, and the way she'd approached him with that curious, adorable air. Now he remembered how when she'd reached him, it was like a tangible electrical force was pulling them together.

He'd tugged her gently closer, and within moments her soft lips had been pressed against his. He loved how connected he felt to her whenever they kissed; how even a brush of their hands sparked adrenaline through his veins, and how alive he felt at the very sight of her.

Ezra's throat tightened, and he pulled himself back from the dangerous territory he was circling. It would do him no good to think about her like that; if he kept it up, he wasn't sure what he'd do the next time he saw Aria. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed her already.

He missed the slightly cinnamon-y scent of her hair, and her quirky little smile. He missed the wide innocence of her gold-hazel eyes, and the cleverness that lingered just behind them. He missed the hint of euphoria he felt when he was around her, and the way he felt inside when she laughed at something he said.

Ezra swallowed, finding himself once again forced to draw back his thoughts. He glanced at Hardy, wishing he'd wake up so Ezra had a distraction. Just then, his friend shifted in his deep sleep and rolled over- onto the ground. Clearly he isn't used to sleeping on sofas, Ezra thought to himself, laughing out loud.

He stood and walked over to offer Hardy a hand up as he sat up, clearly disoriented. "What time is it?" Hardy muttered, holding a hand to his head and using the other to accept Ezra's extended palm, pulling himself up.

"Almost eleven in the morning," Ezra chuckled, heading back over to the counter to get Hardy's coffee, which was thankfully still hot. "Cream? Sugar?" Ezra asked, letting Hardy come over to fix the coffee himself. The clearly hungover young man stumbled over, muttering a thank you while pressing his fingers against his temples.

"How'd you sleep?" Ezra laughed. "Because you were out the minute we got back last night, but you don't look very well rested." Hardy glared at him over the rim of his coffee mug, and rolled his eyes. "I slept fine, actually. Thanks for letting me crash on your couch. But I don't think I want to relive waking up anytime soon," he added, rubbing his head and grinning ruefully.

Hardy finished his coffee, and seemed considerably rejuvenated. He headed into the bathroom with his suitcase while Ezra turned back to his book, and came out showered and dressed. He grabbed his coat, to Ezra's confusion, and explained with a grin, "I was thinking I'd look around Rosewood. You know, poke into some shops, glance in a few cafes, get the feel of this town. It's where you grew up, wasn't it?"

Ezra nodded; he'd lived in this town until his early teens, when his parents made the sudden decision to relocate to New York. He'd never really settled down in the city, and moving to the west coast had given him a door into another world.

Hardy's voice pulled him out of his thoughts- "Don't you have a meeting at the school in about a half hour?" Ezra stood up so quickly his chair teetered dangerously, nodding. "Right, thanks. Enjoy your sightseeing, then," he smiled, and Hardy left with a brief wave.

He showered quickly, changed in a flash, and was out the door by five to noon. He made it to the school on the dot, and hurried in to meet the principal and vice principal. He'd only gone to this school for three quarters of a year, but every time he walked through these halls, it brought back a flood of memories.

Now, Mr. Tamborelli, the principal, and Mr. Hackett, the vice principal, were waiting for him in the principal's office. Mr. Tamborelli had been Ezra's own principal when he went to this school, but Hackett had just started a few years ago, and Ezra found him rather disagreeable.

He was a pear-shaped, middle-aged man with a receding line of straw-colored hair, and beady little eyes. It was clear he'd like the principal position, but Mr. Tamborelli wasn't going anywhere soon. Ezra had a great deal of respect for the principal; he had to admit that he was still slightly intimidated by him, the way he had been when he was just a student.

And now, sitting in the man's office, Ezra had a flashback of being called in here years ago. He'd never really gotten in trouble for anything, but there had been times when he'd needed to sign something or other. Even then, as he would wait to be told why he was there, he'd known the slight panic of wondering what he'd done wrong.

He shook off those lingering feelings now and returned to the discussion of the yearly English course. He was set to teach four classes a day, at least two of those being advanced. He hoped to one day get his master's so he could teach AP, but he'd wanted real teaching experience before then.

And he had to admit that despite his worries about school starting and the looming reunion with Aria, he was looking forward to the coming school year. Sure, he'd heard the horror stories about naïve young teachers and their first years, but he really expected this to be great. He figured as long as he was passionate about what he was teaching, it couldn't go horribly wrong.

He finished up the meeting quickly, with plenty of new textbooks and schedules to look at, and decided to head straight back to his apartment and call Hardy from there. However, by the time he got back home, around one forty-five, Hardy was already there.

He was on the couch, listening to some kind of country music and writing something down in a notebook- which Ezra found ironic; here, he was considered odd when he pulled out his notebook wherever he was. But back in college, in the writing department, that had been the norm.

"Hey," Hardy called, looking up from his notebook. The whole image strongly reminded Ezra of college; of coming back to their dorm after a school day to find him busily doing homework or writing for the campus newspaper. "How was the meeting?" his friend asked, and Ezra could only think to shrug.

"Fine. I mean, nothing went wrong, but nothing was very exciting about it." He went to hang up his coat, and glanced back at Hardy when there was a long moment of silence- only to find his friend shifting uncomfortably and looking thoughtful.

"Speaking of excitement… well, I was in that great little café- the Brew- and this girl came in with a bunch of her friends." Ezra raised an eyebrow, wondering where this was going. "Oh, don't look at me like that, Z. This girl, she was tiny. She had wavy dark hair, and hazel eyes."

Ezra's blood ran cold. "Aria? You saw her, you saw Aria?" Even though he knew this wasn't a huge deal, the mention of her name was like the shattering of a spell; in the last few days he'd almost managed to convince himself she was unimportant, just a captivating, distracting dream- but he could clearly no longer deny her actuality. Meanwhile, Hardy shrugged.

"That's what I heard one of her friends call her. I gotta admit, I felt a little uncomfortable sitting two tables down from them after that, so I headed back here. I'm not sure why I thought I should tell you, since you're trying to get over her and everything- I guess I thought maybe this would help. You know, building up immunity of her? We've started out with mentioning her, now sighting her out on a coffee run…"

Hardy kept his tone light, clearly trying to lift the mood; but Ezra was too distracted to even process most of his words. His mind was once again overtaken by thoughts of her- had she gotten the dry soy latte? Did her friends know about him? He was shaken from this wondering state by Hardy, who raising an eyebrow at him.

"Are you okay, man? I've never seen you like this. I mean, with Jackie you were with her all the time, being her puppy dog-" Ezra rolled his eyes at his friend's frank tone, knowing he was right, "-and after, you know, the whole thing with her and that guy, you were just really quiet for weeks. Now you're always distracted! Half the time when I'm talking to you, you're staring off into the distance, drooling at the thought of Aria."

He was teasing, joking around, but there was a truth to his words. Ezra had to admit he'd barely been paying attention to most of what Hardy said since he'd been in Rosewood, and he felt guilty about it. Hardy had driven all the way down here to see him for the first time since they'd graduated, after spending several years together.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I am trying to stop. And I feel bad that you came way down here to see me, and I've already become a boring idiot." Hardy raised his hands in a jokingly spiritual way. "That's why I'm here! To bring back the life of the long-dead party."

"Is that right?" Ezra laughed. "A mere three nights before my teaching job begins? Somehow, I don't suspect the Board of Education would approve of much partying on my part. But, hey, I've got some beers left in the fridge. Knock yourself out, Hardy."

Hardy chuckled. "It's barely two in the afternoon, Z. And I definitely don't want a repeat of my head exploding the way it did when I woke up this morning. But, hey, I might have a couple later. After all, I don't have to teach four classes full of teenagers in a couple days. Wait a minute- maybe you should be having those beers…"

Ezra rolled his eyes. "Actually, I'm really looking forward to it. I know you're picturing some of our professors who droned on and on in class, and the ones who thought they were so great when all the students found them annoying. But I love English literature, and when I was in college my English teacher was a huge inspiration to me. So I don't really care what happens, I have a passion for this and I'm looking forward to trying."

Hardy let out a theatrical yawn. "You were reading my mind until the bit about passion for your job- I've never heard of the stuff." Ezra rolled his eyes, smiling, as he sat down opposite Hardy on the sofa. "Oh, come on. I know you like your whole journalism gig-thing…"

"'Journalism gig-thing?' You've really proven to me what a good listener you are. But I guess you're right, I do enjoy being a freelance journalist and photographer. Especially now that my usual newspaper has really taken a liking to my work. I think they might even take me on full-time, which would mean I would actually have a stable job… and that would obviously be great." They both laughed.

"That's one of the perks to being a teacher," Ezra chuckled. "I get weekends and vacations off. I am a tiny bit jealous of you, though. I already miss the amount of writing and photography I was doing at the publishing office here in town." Hardy seemed surprised; he furrowed his eyebrows together in thought.

"They have a publishing office here? And you worked there? Man, I thought there was at least one thing I could do that you couldn't…" he said in a teasing tone, making Ezra roll his eyes. "Oh, come on, Hardy. Get over yourself. You knew I like photography and journalism. We took several years of almost all the same courses, we're pretty evenly matched."

"Except that I know how to make at least a few edible dishes," Hardy smirked. "You mean, spaghetti, salad, chocolate chip cookies, and steamed vegetables? Very impressive, I know," Ezra laughed.

"Oh, actually, about that… It's only spaghetti, salad, and cookies. That one time I made steamed vegetables and told you I even steamed them myself? They were actually microwaved. But hey, you used to burn popcorn so badly each piece tasted like charcoal," Hardy grinned.

"Well, I've perfect it now," Ezra chuckled. "And seriously? Not that it's a big deal, but you're just telling me now about the whole steamed vegetables thing? Because you did not just make that once. I actually always was a little suspicious about how quickly and easily you appeared with it…"

They continued their easy reminiscent banter for hours. Then they each popped open a beer, and continued for several more. And although Aria constantly danced along and skimmed the border of his thoughts, Ezra was happy to finally be able to talk to a good friend and focus on something other than his current woes.

-September 1st-

Aria

So now she had only two days- well, a day and a half. It was a little past noon, and Aria was arriving at the movie theater with her friends. They were trying to pack in as many things as they could before being dragged down by their social and academic school lives.

As a result, this was the third time they'd seen Pretty Child, a chick-flick/romance/mystery about a girl who'd grown up as the perfect, beautiful blonde 'it' girl of a small town, named Alison. She seemed sweet and charming to most, and had a large clique of devoted followers at her high school. But she was really a manipulative, sneaky brat, who constantly teased and bullied all the 'nerds' of her school.

One of those 'losers,' a girl named Mona, began sending her threatening, anonymous texts, and eventually tried to kill her by hitting her hard over the head with a rock one night. Alison survived, breathing but disoriented, and Mona convinced her that the town was no longer safe. So Alison ran away, leaving everyone thinking she'd been kidnapped, and Mona built herself up as the new 'it' girl- even stealing Alison's former boyfriend.

Eventually, however, Alison reappears- determined to figure out who tortured her for months and tried to kill her, and make that person pay. Most of the movie revolves around her former friends and family trying to find out what really happened to her, and Alison herself trying to find not only her stalker but her new place in the town.

It ends with Alison realizing it was Mona, and attacking her, but being apprehended by the police when the brilliant former loser calls 911 just before Alison sneaks into her house. The officers come just in time to find Alison standing over a fallen Mona with a knife, and she's sent to a correctional facility for young women.

Aria's favorite part of the movie was the well-executed photography. The cameras were placed at angles that suggested the way Mona stalked Alison, and she loved the dark shots. Hanna's favorite bit, of course, was the love triangle between Mona, Alison, and the guy who started dating Mona after Ali disappeared- who eventually found out about each of their dark sides and was caught in the middle of their battle.

When the movie was over, Aria and her friends headed to the Brew, since Emily had a shift at two thirty. The chatted about their least favorite parts about Pretty Child- which by now they were practically experts on- and eventually, inevitably, the topic melted into the last thing they wanted to think about- school.

They theorized on which boys would have gotten cuter, and which classes they were most looking forward to. Aria had been excited for her advanced English class, but now she was dreading it the most. Em was eager to restart the swim season, as well as her advanced Bio course. Hanna was most looking forward to skipping school, and Spencer couldn't decide which of her classes seemed more exciting.

Aria was beginning to drift off to daydreams when Hanna squealed. "Guys, remember that cute stranger guy from yesterday? He's here again, sitting at that same table. He's even writing in that notebook again. And he keeps glancing over at you, Aria. Ugh, lucky."

Aria rolled her eyes, but when she looked over at the stranger, he was indeed glancing at her. He didn't seem interested, though- more distantly curious and slightly amused. She wondered where he was from and what his deal was, but eventually brushed it off and continued her conversation with the others.

Forty-five minutes later, however, as the girls were getting hungry and decided to get pastries from the main counter, she noticed he was still occasionally glancing her way. As the other picked out various muffins and Danishes, she walked over to him, frowning.

"Do you mind telling me why you keep looking over at us?" she asked in a soft enough voice as not to cause a scene, but making it clear she wasn't amused. He seemed surprised, but still had that small smirk on his face- like he was constantly thinking of teasing jokes.

"Sorry," he chuckled. "You're Aria, aren't you?" Before she could ask how he knew, he continued. "I must seem like some creepy stranger- well, I am a stranger." He paused, and although Aria was still weirded out, she had to admit that he had one of those friendly smiles that gave you the impression this person made a lot of jokes at their own expense.

"My name's Hardy. You don't know me, but I know Ezra." It took her a moment to process his words; the mere mention of his name sent warm shivers down her spine and washed another wave of love and regret over her. The guy- Hardy- studied her reaction.

"So, you do feel the same way?" Aria drew her eyebrows together, confused. "What are you talking about?" she asked, wondering what Ezra had said to Hardy about her. Did he know everything? "I mean, it wasn't just some stupid fling for you either."

"N-no!" Aria insisted, feeling dizzy and sliding into the seat across from him. "He told you everything? Can you please tell him how sorry I am? I can't call him, I mean I could but I don't feel like that would be very helpful… does he hate me?" The words tumbled senselessly out of her lips, desperate and with a wavering level of hope.

Hardy gave her a level look, raising an eyebrow. "No, he doesn't hate you. Which I have to say, might not be the best thing. You know that nothing can ever happen between you two again, don't you? He could lose his job, and go to jail. I'm just looking out for him."

Aria hesitated, nodding slightly. Yes, she knew. She hated it and wished desperately it was otherwise, but she knew. "Listen," Hardy continued, seeming torn. "I could kinda tell when I said his name that you're not really over him. And not to give you any kind of false hope, but he'd not totally over you either. So in the interest of my best friend and your soon-to-be teacher, can you promise me something?"

She swallowed, her mind racing. Not only did Ezra not hate her- he might still have feelings for her too? She forced herself to concentrate. "Yes, I promise. I mean, what is it?" Hardy hesitated for a short moment. "He can't know how you feel. It'll make everything harder. I know it'll hurt him, and I know doing that will hurt you. But when you see him, please promise me you'll pretend you don't care about him. Pretend you never did."