A/N: Happy to get an update out! Only 29 days! Also, to answer some review questions, there will be 15 chapters of this story. I try to update once a week, at most, every two weeks. But it'll also have an epilogue that I want to release when Sara Shepard publishes her Emison fanfiction in June. So, it won't be "completed" until after that. Let me know what you think of the chapter!
Ali had over analyzed everything she'd said since Emily had left, running through their conversation over and over, hundreds of times. She'd wish she could take it all back one moment, then say it all again in the next. Why? Because Emily deserved to hear those things about Courtney, she deserved to know the truth. Sure, Ali might've lied about being her sister for a few weeks, but Courtney had lied about being Ali for several years. No one even knew who she was under that hard "Ali" husk, especially not Emily.
But, then again, she'd wanted to take it all back because… had she been too mean, too sharp? She'd wanted to tear down Emily's idyllic view of her twin, expose Courtney for the monster she was. But Emily had looked devastated, leading Ali to think that maybe she had done it a little too eagerly, a little too well. Maybe ruining Courtney for Emily had been cruel and selfish. Emily deserved happiness, too, after all. Did Ali really want to be right at the expense of that happiness?
So, she'd struggled constantly between whether she'd done the right thing or not. But after waiting and waiting for Emily to come back and visit her, Ali started to think she had definitely done the wrong thing. And, then, the decision was easy. She'd take it all back if it meant hearing from Emily again.
But she didn't.
She felt angry, sad, confused. She was also kind of surprised, shocked even that Emily didn't just believe her, didn't immediately choose her over Courtney. While it hadn't always been true at Radley, she was still Alison DiLaurentis. And Alison was used to getting what she wanted. And here she was, wanting Emily, and not getting her. It was confounding. Especially after she'd been direct and told Emily how she felt. Ali had told her she loved her, for Christ's sake. Or she almost had. She had laid everything out on the line. She'd thought that would change things, help Emily to forgive her. But Emily hadn't forgiven her. And now that it had been days, days that felt like weeks, Ali reasonably assumed that Emily had left her like everyone else, and she wasn't coming back. Emily didn't want anything to do with her.
These thoughts tore at her as she lay motionless on her bed, afternoon sun spilling across her legs. She was unable to read, but also unable to sleep. She touched the necklace at her throat. She thought about throwing it away, throwing it off the roof, but what if someone found it? What if somehow Emily found it again? She hadn't been lying when she'd told Emily she would have to pry the necklace off her dead body if she wanted it back. Because she had a good idea who Emily would give it to instead. And she'd die before seeing it around Courtney's neck.
Ali seethed with envy, thinking about that. In Emily's pronounced absence, jealousy had been eating her alive. She'd been bluffing when she'd implied Courtney didn't have feelings for Emily. For all she knew, Courtney did like Emily back, why wouldn't she? And, of course, Emily still loved her, wanted to be with her.
She closed her eyes and imagined, for about the 25th time, Emily confronting Courtney about what Ali had told her. She saw Courtney gingerly taking Emily's hand and calmly convincing her that Ali was crazy, using all the soft words and right moves, unlike Ali herself, who had been too mean and abrasive. Maybe Courtney would even tell her that their kiss meant something, her eyes lingering on Emily's lips. And, then, Emily would believe her, would relight the fire of her devotion. She'd forget all about Ali, move past everything that had happened. They'd laugh on their dates, in the school courtyard. Laugh at Ali and how stupid she was. C was for Conniving, Ali thought. A was for An Idiot.
She pulled hard at the chain around her neck, feeling it cut into her skin. It felt like a literal knife in her heart to imagine the two of them getting together, being together. But Courtney was free. Courtney was Emily's best friend. Courtney wasn't a mental patient. Of course Emily would never choose Ali, she'd been a fool to think so. Hadn't she come to learn yet that Courtney always won? Ali wished she could go back in time and never have talked to Emily at all if it meant it would spare her the pain and rejection she felt now.
Before she knew it, her feet were carrying her into the hallway, towards the rec room. She had to do something. Had to escape somehow, if only for a little while.
She sidled up to the piano, resting the pads of her fingertips on the wooden cover. This piano certainly wasn't as nice as the one sitting in her living room. But beggars could never be choosers at Radley. It might be twice as old as she was and not totally in tune, but it was all she had.
She sat down at it, ignoring the other patients in the room, and began to play. She played for several minutes, feeling the flow of the music. It was a rendition of a movie score from a CD a nurse had given her, but she was adding her own twists and overtures. She was imagining Emily. Kissing Emily. Emily leaving her at Radley. Emily kissing Courtney. She was imagining the way the roof looked when she'd stood on the ledge a month ago. She imagined her branch, instead, and saw herself running away. Far, far away from Rosewood, never coming back. No one even remembering she'd ever been here at all.
She was imagining all of that, and more, trying to pour her feelings into the song. She'd gotten lost in it, closing her eyes, when she suddenly felt a hand on her shoulder. She didn't stop playing or look up immediately, assuming it was one of the nurses, about to tell her she was getting carried away. That it was too loud, disrupting the other patients, that she needed to stop.
But it wasn't a nurse. When she opened her eyes, she was met with soft, kind chocolate brown ones, a blanket of straight black hair framing a pretty face. It was Emily.
"Emily," Ali said in a breath, wondering for a moment if somehow her play had summoned her, not totally sure if she was real. Her fingers hesitated over the keys.
But Ali felt the pressure of Emily's fingers on her shoulder as the brunette continued to look down at her, a metal fan behind her blowing cool air across her face. This was real. Emily was really there.
Ali stood from the piano, Emily's hand sliding off her shoulder to fall at her side.
"You came back," she said, still amazed.
Emily nodded shyly, looking around the room with slight discomfort. Ali noticed for the first time that a small crowd had formed around the piano. Maybe they'd been listening to her play? There were at least a dozen eyes on them, and it made Ali uncomfortable, too. She didn't want her reunion with Emily to have an audience.
So, Ali grabbed Emily's hand, pulling her out of the rec room and back towards her suite. Emily followed quickly as they approached, Ali dragging Emily inside and shutting the door behind her.
They stood there awkwardly for a moment, Ali still holding her hand. Then, Ali couldn't resist any longer, she pulled Emily into a tight embrace, pressing one hand against her shoulder blades, wrapping another around her neck. All she had wanted the past week was to feel and touch and smell her again. And now it was happening. And, after a few seconds, Emily finally relaxed and hugged Ali back, her hands encircling Ali's waist.
Ali breathed in deep at the spot behind Emily's ear, the spot she had marked, the spot that was hers. She loved Emily's scent. Emily felt warm in her arms, her hair soft as it touched Ali's jaw. She pulled back slightly, wanting to gauge Emily's reaction, with the unintended effect that their faces were now close. Very close. Emily looked stunned, her lips slightly parted, her cheeks lightly colored. Ali's eyes grazed over Emily's full lashes, her thick hair, her kissable lips. She lifted one hand to Emily's face, running her fingers along her smooth, soft cheek. Emily took a shaky breath at the intimate action, but she didn't push Ali away. So, Ali lifted her other hand to cup both sides of her face, Emily's arms still wrapped around her, and started to move towards her lips, her mouth.
But Emily stiffened abruptly, pulling back in a jerky motion. She moved both hands to Ali's wrists, pulling them away.
"I'm sorry," Ali whispered, suddenly feeling stupid, not knowing what possessed her to try and kiss Emily.
Pressing her tongue hard against the back side of her teeth, she pulled her wrists out of Emily's grip, unable to make eye contact with the brunette. She felt rejected all over again, everything she'd come to believe over the last week rushing back in, like a bucket of cold ice water. Of course, Emily didn't want to kiss her. She was probably here to call her a liar. She was probably going to tell her she was with Courtney now.
Her cheeks felt red with embarrassment, hot, something in her chest painfully clenched. She swallowed as she moved away to the window, trying to hide how crushed she was.
"Ali," Emily called to her.
"I said I was sorry," she reemphasized, not wanting to be chastised.
"You don't have to be sorry," Emily said, with a slightly pleading tone.
But Ali still didn't want to look at her, so she clutched the window sill roughly, forcing herself to look out over the vast, green forest instead.
"It's okay if—" she started, shakily, a knot in her throat. "It's okay if you don't have feelings for me like that, Emily. You can just tell me."
"I didn't say that—that's not what I meant—" Emily started, but Ali suddenly didn't want to hear an explanation. Didn't want to know exactly how her rejection was going to be phrased.
"Why did you come here? What do you want?" she said cutting Emily off, spinning to look at her. If she was going to tell her that she was with Courtney and she didn't believe her, she might as well get to it.
"I—," Emily started, looking pained, recoiling slightly. "I just wanted to see you."
Ali softened slightly at that, but turned away again anyway, looking back out the window. She didn't want to look weak. She didn't want to feel hopeful.
"How long do I get?" Emily asked gently. Her tone threatened to melt Ali, but she refused to give in.
"I don't know," she answered. "At least an hour, sometimes more."
There was a lingering pause as Ali picked at some chipping paint, pulling off a long white flake with the edge of her fingernail.
"That song was really pretty," she heard Emily say behind her.
"How long were you listening?" Ali asked distantly, going for another paint piece.
"I could hear it down the hallway. Maybe a minute. How did you learn it?"
Ali shrugged, looking down at her fingernails, inspecting her cuticles. They'd seen better days. She removed some traces of paint debris with her other nail.
"It's not exactly like we have YouTube in here," she said. "By ear, I guess. One of the nurses gave me a CD."
"A CD?" Emily asked, sounding joking. "I don't even think I own a CD player anymore."
"Well, Radley's still stuck in the 90's. CD's are pretty cutting edge," Ali said tersely.
She hazarded a glance at Emily, who had put her hands in her pockets, eyeing Ali uneasily as the blonde gazed at her.
"Courtney doesn't play piano, does she?" she asked quietly.
"Courtney?" Ali said questioningly, noting the use of her sister's actual name. She'd missed it earlier when Emily had called her 'Ali.' "So, you believe me?"
"Yes," Emily said after a beat. "I believe you."
Ali couldn't help but smile slightly, feeling a glimmer of hope. Even though it was hope she wanted to squash, for fear that it would only lead to more pain.
"No," Ali answered her earlier question. "She doesn't play."
"Why couldn't you use that to prove it to your parents?" Emily asked.
"I tried," she said, feeling exasperation at the memory. "My mom thought I'd just learned it to prove I was her. Like I could've really learned to play piano like that in here."
"Well, you're really good," Emily admitted quietly after a moment's pause.
Ali liked hearing the compliment, basked in it. She watched Emily, wondering why Emily hadn't let her kiss her earlier and, frankly, wanting to try again. But Emily only stood there, looking down, fidgeting slightly, before she said, "I brought you something."
This piqued Ali's curiosity as she watched Emily put her purse down on Ali's bed, digging through it. She then turned back to the blonde, holding out a few bottles of nail polish in her hand.
The small smile Ali had been wearing brightened as she looked down. Emily had a selection of polish colors; blue, green, red, pink, and orange.
"I remembered you don't like yellow. But I didn't know… what your favorite color was, so I brought a few."
Ali continued to smile. "No, not yellow. I like the orange though, I like coral."
Ali motioned Emily to a table by the window. It was small, only for two people, and it wasn't fancy, just a plastic table top and two metal chairs. They sat across from each other, and Emily took Ali's left hand in hers after twisting the top off of the nail polish. She started carefully painting Ali's thumb, Ali could feel her trembling slightly.
"I'm not the best at this, my friends would definitely do better," Emily explained. "But it's better than nothing."
She stuck her tongue out slightly as she concentrated, moving in broad, cautious strokes. It was cute, Ali smiled slightly again.
"Do you like it when my nails are done?" she inquired curiously.
"You have pretty hands," Emily said distractedly back, not taking her eyes away from them, her lip quirking up slightly as she said it. Ali could feel her holding her hand still, so gently, like she was made of glass. Emily's hands were warm, too, she liked that. Whereas the polish felt cool through her nail and tickled slightly.
"Me?" Ali asked with a pause, unable to fully stop herself. "Or Courtney?"
Emily glanced up at her, levelling Ali with a slightly perturbed gaze. A gaze that said, I'm not doing her nails in Radley Sanitarium, am I?
"You could've told me, you know," Emily said instead, looking back down at Ali's nails, not answering her question. "In the beginning. You didn't have to lie."
"You wouldn't have believed me," Ali said back with certainty.
"You don't know that," Emily quietly argued. She dipped the brush back into the bottle for more polish.
"You were there to tell your precious Courtney that you were in love with her," Ali persevered, slightly harshly. "You would've done anything she said, Killer."
At the use of her nickname, Emily's eyes flickered back up to Ali's.
"And she would've told you I was crazy," she continued, tilting her head. "You probably would've marched me back to Radley yourself, if it meant winning her favor."
Ali watched Emily clench her jaw. She didn't mean to sound so acidic, so jealous, but she was sure she was right. After a second, Emily looked back down at Ali's index finger, painting it over in one long, unbroken brush. There was a long minute of silence.
"Do you ever get to leave Radley?" Emily asked, changing the subject. "Well, I mean, legally," she added with another disapproving glance.
"I have out privileges—well, I did. We'd go to UPenn. But my mom was always with me."
"UPenn?" Emily asked. "You take college classes?"
"Yeah, I don't know if you know, Em," she said using her nickname, trying to execute a look of obnoxious overconfidence. "But I'm pretty smart."
"Too smart, I think," Emily said back wryly, expertly painting the pinky nail on Ali's right hand, looking pleased with herself.
As Emily moved on to her other hand, Ali realized that while she had missed Emily, she had really missed flirting with her. She hadn't liked their last conversation, their argument. She'd missed joking and teasing with the brunette. She'd missed making Emily blush. Thinking about it, Ali twisted her ankle around Emily's under the table, bringing her leg between hers. Emily glanced at her, but didn't pull it away or say anything. Ali was relieved.
"So, if you've been in here since 9th grade, do you have any friends?" she asked.
"Not really," Ali responded, not relishing the answer. "The normal-er people, they get to leave. So, the ones who stay… there aren't a lot of girls like me."
"Sounds lonely," Emily commented, a slight frown on her face.
"It is," Ali said back.
"So, you've never—you haven't met anyone in here?" Emily asked again, seemingly cool, but Ali could tell she was trying a little too hard to sound casual.
"Are you asking if I've gone on any dates?" she asked with the ghost of a smirk.
Emily's eyes flickered up again, confirming Ali's suspicions.
"No, Emily," she said, but then added, correcting herself, "well, one."
"When?" Emily asked, a little too quickly.
"She got me a white mocha," Ali replied, her smirk fully blooming.
Ali thought about how sweet that had been of Emily, when they were in the town square meeting up with Caleb. It had been such a treat for Ali, especially after Emily implied it was a date. She smiled fondly at Emily thinking about it, but Emily didn't look up. In fact, she looked sad to Ali.
"Was any of it real for you?" she said evenly, starting to paint the thumb of Ali's left hand..
It kind of hurt Ali's feelings that Emily had to ask her that, after everything Ali had told her. But she'd broken Emily's trust, after all. Maybe Emily would never believe her again. But shet had to try.
"Of course, Em," she said simply.
Emily still didn't look at her, blowing softly on her finished left hand. Ali watched the purse of her lips, too closely perhaps, the tickling sensation of Emily's breath hitting her in more places than one. Under the table, she pulled Emily's foot closer to her.
Then, Emily surprised Ali by rolling her eyes, but with a smile, as she dipped the brush into the polish for a second coat on her right hand.
"I can't believe I fell for you telling me not to talk to you at school," she said, making Ali happy that she was joking again.
"You're very trusting," Ali tried to tease back at her.
But it seemed like the wrong thing to say as Emily's smile fell.
"Do you think that's why Courtney liked me?" Emily asked quietly after a pause. "Because she knew I would trust her? Because I'm gullible?"
It was a strangely vulnerable question, Ali realized. She wanted to be careful in her response. Ali didn't think Emily was gullible, per say, but she did think Emily's dedication, sincerity, and loyalty were a huge part of why her sister was close friends with her. But she didn't know how to phrase that without making Emily sad.
"No, she probably liked you," Ali began, coming up with a good pivot, "because you already had a huge thing for me."
Emily looked at her, noticing Ali's kittenish expression. She did a small smile back, realizing Ali was joking with her.
"I did not," she asserted, finishing Ali's index finger.
"Yes, you did," Ali insisted, curling her foot slightly up Emily's ankle. She felt Emily shift, watching her cheeks blush as she looked up, locking eyes with Ali. "I remember the way you looked at me in 8th grade."
"We weren't even friends," Emily argued, but it sounded noncommittal.
"Biggest mistake I ever made," Ali responded flirtily.
She continued to massage Emily's calf with her foot, watching Emily squirm. In her distraction, Emily slightly nicked the skin of her pinky with polish.
"Sorry," she said, wiping it away with her fingernail.
Ali stopped the motion, satisfied with the effect she still had on Emily, allowing Emily to concentrate again.
"If you think about it, though," Emily said, opening up the clear coat polish. "You would've never been friends with me if it weren't for her."
Ali's self satisfaction faded as she looked away, hating to give Courtney credit for anything.
"What's the deal with you and her anyway?" Emily continued, giving Ali the sense that she'd been slowly working her way up to this question. "Why did you lie about her hurting you?"
"I don't know," Ali said with a frustrated sigh, not wanting to talk about it, having never really talked to anyone about it. But she didn't have a choice. She wanted Emily to trust her again.
"We were always competing," she started, trying to find the right words to describe everything. "We fought a lot."
She paused, staring down at her hand on the table, feeling Emily delicately apply the second coat on her left hand.
"I know this won't sound good. But... she was easy to push around. I thought I could do whatever I wanted. I was a bully, I'm sure you remember," Ali said, looking at Emily. Emily merely raised her eyebrows, not looking up.
"You used to call me Seaweed," she mentioned quietly. "Because my hair was always wet from swimming."
Ali frowned, having not remembered that. "I'm sorry."
But while she was sorry, she wasn't surprised. Ali used to love giving people nicknames, both flattering and unflattering. Until people regularly called her "Crazy Courtney." She hadn't appreciated that and, as she'd gotten older, it felt even more stupid and childish to keep doing it.
Emily only shrugged at Ali's apology.
"It was a long time ago," she said. "Then what?"
"Well," Ali answered, feeling resistant to continue. "I bullied her, I guess. It made me feel better for… sometimes I thought people liked her better than me." She tried not to stare at Emily too pointedly.
"I used to make her pretend to be me. Dare her to do bad things, but blame me. Then I'd convince our parents it was really her, that she was lying."
Emily looked up briefly at Ali, opening up the clear nail polish while her hands dried. Her expression was unreadable, but Ali knew she was probably not happy with what she was hearing.
"Is that why no one believes you here?"
"Yeah," Ali said unhappily. "It was part of Courtney's prognosis that she tried to impersonate me. It didn't help when they dragged me here that I was screaming my head off about being the real Alison. It was pretty brilliant of Courtney, actually."
Emily said nothing, beginning the clear coat application.
"So, one day," Ali continued. "I intentionally picked on her. I made her upset when I knew my parents were downstairs. She jumped on me, she had her hands around my throat, squeezing, right when my parents came in. I told them she tried to kill me. But I knew she hadn't really, she was just pissed."
Emily glanced up at her, her eyes widened faintly.
"It was stupid, all of it. I was just… young and jealous. I didn't think they'd actually send her away, but they did."
She opened her mouth to go on, but found she couldn't. She didn't want Emily to judge her even more, to know everything. She couldn't add that she'd been scared that her parents wouldn't love her if she'd told the truth about what she did. That she'd been afraid that they'd side with nicer, sweet Courtney over her. And then, the worst part… she didn't even feel that bad about it at the time. It was nice when Courtney was gone. She felt like her family was more peaceful. There wasn't so much cat fighting and back stabbing. Everything felt right, as it should be, as it always should've been.
She only felt guilty later when she was at Radley, living Courtney's miserable life.
"That's awful, Alison," Emily finally commented, confirming Ali's fears. She sounded disappointed, painting the last nail of her right hand slowly. "I can't believe you did that."
"Believe me, I wish I hadn't," Ali said defensively back. "I created my own worst enemy. I'd do anything for the last four years of my life back."
And it was true. Of all the things she wished she could take back, lying about Courtney was at the top of her list. It was her biggest regret.
"Did you bully her again when you escaped?" Emily asked, setting Ali's hand down, as she switched to the left.
Ali was slightly stunned at Emily's question. Why would she ask that?
"What?"
"Did you leave her anonymous messages?" Emily clarified impatiently. "Did you try to scare her?"
Alison opened and closed her mouth. How did Emily know about that? Did she talk to Courtney?
"She was being mean to you at school," she tried to defend.
"It wasn't just then," Emily countered. "What about the one with Mr. Hastings?"
"You went through my phone?" Ali accused, feeling her cheeks get hot again.
"Yes," Emily said without hesitation. Ali clenched her teeth.
"She needed to know about him," Ali conceded. "It involved her too. He's our dad."
Emily's expression looked surprised for a moment. But only a moment before she quickly recovered. "But it still got her out of the house so you could steal that ring back. And you called her a liar."
"Isn't she?" Ali indicted.
Emily still gazed judgmentally back at her. Ali merely shrugged.
"So, did she know it was me? Does she know I escaped?" she asked, trying to seize her opportunity to ask about their 'talk' again.
Emily looked down at the table top, at the clear polish, clearly loath to discuss it.
"No," she said simply.
"But you talked to her, you said," Ali continued to needle.
"I talked to her, but we didn't talk about that."
Ali raised her eyebrows, inviting Emily to continue. Emily sighed frustratedly.
"She asked me about kissing her," she said quickly.
"And?" Ali asked reluctantly.
"She doesn't feel that way about me, if that's what you want to know," Emily spat quickly with an annoyed glance at Ali. She withdrew her foot from between Ali's legs.
Ali missed the touch immediately, guessing their 'kiss talk' hadn't gone well. Despite clearly having upset Emily, she desperately wanted more details. What did that mean, 'she doesn't feel that way about me?' Did Emily still feel 'that way' about her?
"Why weren't you ever embarrassed about liking me?" Emily asked, surprising Ali while she'd been composing her next question. The brunette dropped her eyes again, looking hurt and exposed, finishing the coat on her left hand.
"Why would I be embarrassed?" Ali asked, confused, spreading her fingers out to dry.
"You know what I'm asking," Emily said slightly under her breath.
Ali was still perplexed by the question. She took a wild guess. "Like… about us being girls?"
Emily said nothing, still staring morosely at the table, so Ali figured she was right.
"I'm not embarrassed," she simply reemphasized. "Radley taught me not to take anything for granted. And, also look in the mirror, Em. You're hotter than any guy I've ever met. You have nothing to be ashamed of."
Ali moved her hand over Emily's as she said it, careful not to mark her wet nails. Emily visibly relaxed, smiling slightly at her, looking down at their fingers.
"Was she… embarrassed by it?" she added, trying not to seem too eager to know.
"I guess," Emily said. "She's acting like it's some sort of secret she can lord over me."
Ali sighed. Courtney was such a dick.
"Well, she's stupid," she settled with saying instead.
Emily's smile faded a bit. She seemed to be holding something back, biting her lip slightly.
"Were you going to run away?" she asked suddenly, Ali feeling her fingers flex slightly against hers.
Ali had expected this question after Emily confessed to going through her phone. But she wasn't expecting how hurt Emily looked, how afraid. She felt bad about it.
"I was going to tell you," she said weakly.
"Are you still going to?" Emily asked. "Run away?"
"Why, Em?" Ali countered her question with a question. She didn't want to lie. While she didn't know what she wanted to do yet, necessarily, running away wasn't off the table.
Emily seemed to take the questions as a 'yes' anyway, pressing her lips together firmly.
"If you still want to leave," she started. "We can break you out."
"We?" Ali asked. Who all knew about her?
"Me and Caleb. And Hanna."
"Hanna," Ali said, recognizing the name. "She knows about me, too?"
"Yeah, Caleb told her."
"Who is she?"
"One of my best friends," Emily replied. "She's dating Caleb, they tell each other everything. He can make you an employee badge. We can meet you here with a car. We can take you to a bus or train station, wherever you want to go."
Ali was shocked to hear all of this. Emily had clearly spent some time formulating this plan. But then, Ali thought about never seeing her family, her house again. Never seeing Emily again. She didn't like the idea, but anything was better than Radley.
"But, you know, Ali, I was thinking," Emily said slowly. Alison watched her long lashes, her angular jaw tighten.
"What?" she asked.
"You don't have to leave," Emily finished.
Ali looked at her questioningly. "They're going to look for me if I escape again. And your house will be the first stop."
"But what if we can get Courtney to admit who she is?"
Ali huffed. "She is never going to do that."
"Maybe she's only worried that they'll lock her up again," Emily continued more hopefully. "But you'd have to admit what you did, too. That you lied about her being crazy."
Ali squeezed Emily's hand before pulling it away across the table, feeling annoyed at the proposition. She didn't want to snap at Emily, so instead she looked at her beautiful nail color. Emily did a pretty good job.
"Like she must feel trapped too," Emily continued after Ali didn't respond. "She's been living a lie, having such a big secret. It's a burden. You could both be free."
"She'd never switch back," Ali said darkly. "No one wants to be 'Courtney.'"
"We could get rid of the evidence, Caleb could hack the files. Or maybe Spencer's parents could even get it legally expunged. Seal your, or her, medical record."
"Mr. Hastings does owe us one," Ali thought aloud. She hadn't found a way to blackmail him or her mother with their affair yet. But even if she did, Courtney would still never switch back with her. She hated Alison too much.
"It would still never work," she added.
"Why?" Emily said with a down turned frown.
"You just don't know Courtney like I do."
"I may not have grown up with her," Emily refuted. "But, now, I know her better than you, and I think there's a chance."
Ali had to admit that Emily was one of Courtney's closest friends. If she thought they had a chance, maybe they did. Or was Emily just being idealistic?
"What can it hurt?" Emily continued to argue. "If she says no, we can still break you out. I want you to be free, Ali, but..." she took her hand across the table again, it surprised Alison.
"I don't want you to leave," she said sincerely.
It thawed Ali's resolve. Maybe Emily did like her after all.
"Really?" she asked.
"I mean," Emily said, looking self-conscious after her admission. "I want to get to know you. The real you."
Ali did want to get to know Emily, too. After everything, she wanted that more than ever. But did she want it more than her freedom? Courtney would never switch back. And then she would know Ali had gotten out, and that she knew Emily. Surely, she would use that against Alison.
"I want to go on a date," Emily continued, her eyes brighter, interrupting Ali's bleak thoughts. "Not just coffee. An actual date."
Ali couldn't help but smile at that. She imagined what they would do. Dinner? Movies? A picnic in the park? All the normal things a girl her age should get excited about. All the things she'd never allowed herself to hope for. But Emily made it sound possible.
"I do too," Ali said, tracing a pattern on the inside of Emily's palm. When Emily smiled back, Ali wanted to kiss her again.
But unfortuitously, a nurse knocked on the door at that moment, bringing Ali's thoughts back to her current dilemma, her current prison.
"Visitation is over in five minutes, Courtney," the nurse said, cracking the door. Ali nodded, and the nurse ducked back out of the room. Ali rolled her eyes.
"I should go," Emily said, standing. Ali followed her, looking down at her hands, appreciating her nails again.
Emily paused just in front of Ali's bookshelf, though, looking at it like she had before. And, like last time, it looked like she was looking at Ali's copy of Great Expectations.
"You like that book, huh?" Ali asked, stepping up behind Emily, close enough to pick up traces of Emily's scent again. Emily brushed her hand across the spine.
"We had to read it in school," she said softly.
"It's one of my favorites. The idea that all your expectations for yourself are doomed," Ali quipped, smiling sarcastically at Emily.
"But Pip gets Estella in the end," Emily argued lightly.
"Did you know there were two endings?" Ali asked, slipping the book out of the shelf. It was an older edition her mom had bought for her a few years ago. She and Emily gazed at the faded cover thoughtfully, Emily shaking her head.
"He doesn't end up with her in the original ending."
Emily took the book from her, sliding it back into its spot. She turned and stared into the blonde's eyes, their faces close.
"Happy endings do exist, Ali," she said, and Ali could feel her minty breath on her lips.
Her attention wavered between Emily's mouth and her eyes. Again, she wanted to kiss her, but she didn't want to get freshly rejected. No, she thought. Happy endings didn't exist. She sighed.
"We can talk to Courtney about it if you really think it'll work. But… do you still have my crime hoodie? We're going to need it when she tries to burn this place down."
"Yeah, I still have it," Emily said with a slight smile. "It smells like you."
"And what does that smell like?" Ali couldn't help but ask flirtatiously, inclining her head slightly.
But Emily suddenly pulled her close, pressing her body against hers, wrapping her arms tightly around Ali's back. She buried her face in Ali's hair, and smelled her in the same way Ali had done to Emily earlier. It gave Ali goosebumps.
"The best," Emily breathed into her ear. "I miss you."
But before Ali could respond or really savor the moment, Emily pulled away, wrenching open the door. "I'll be back tomorrow," she said, pausing. "Hopefully with Courtney."
The showdown is next! Emily confronts Courtney and convinces her to visit Ali at Radley. But how? Will it work out? Or is it too late?