A cold sweat had broken out over Spencer's skin. Her heart fluttered irregularly in her chest like a dying bird. Air caught in her throat. A heavy nausea twisted her stomach into knots. She could hear Hanna shuffling along the hallway, growing ever closer, but she could do nothing to drag her eyes away from the sight before her.

Lying in the centre of her bed, on a pillow and surrounded by a multitude of different colour flower petals, was a bottle of pills. There was a note attached, folded into the shape of a heart.

"Hey Spence," Hanna muttered. "Have you got any food?"

Spencer clamped her open mouth shut, backed out of the room and slammed the door with more force than she had really intended. Hanna looked at her wide eyed and tilted her head in curiosity. She offered the blonde what she hoped was a strong smile and then bundled her friend away and back down the stairs.

"Yeah, there's food in the kitchen. Come on, I'll make you something."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, come on."

"I'm gonna fall down the stairs!"

Spencer paused, let go of Hanna, and clutched the handrail of the stairs. The blonde looked at her through narrowed eyes, but didn't press. They made their way slowly into the kitchen. Spencer's thoughts were consumed by images of the pill bottle. She went through the motions of making a sandwich without really taking any conscious notice of what her hands were doing. They were shaking, and the butter knife clattered against the countertop. She swore under her breath.

It took ten minutes for her to make the sandwich and place it before Hanna. It was cut lopsidedly, one half bigger than the other, with the smaller half having considerably more filling than the larger half.

Hanna looked at Spencer through her eyelashes so that she wouldn't notice. She took a bite of the sandwich to be polite and studied her friend carefully. In her head she was surrounded by dark thoughts and flashes of skin and sweat but by staring at Spencer she could focus. There were large, dark circles beneath the girl's eyes, and she was shaking like a nervous chihuahua. It was a startling image to see. So different to the composed girl she had known.

"Are you okay?"

"What?" Spencer wouldn't make eye contact with her. "Yeah – eat your sandwich, I'll be right back."

It was a dream. It wasn't a hallucination. When Spencer reopened the door to her bedroom the pills were still there, still surrounded by the petals and the heart shape note. She picked up the note with two fingers, like it was going to come alive and bite her.

A present for the smart one

-A

A? Allison?

A wave of nausea struck her so hard she dropped the note and fell to her knees. A little part of her hoped that Hanna hadn't heard the bang. She swallowed hard. In the next minute she had opened the bottle and swallowed two of the pills.

Her eyes closed as she waited for the relief.

…..

Maya had taken Emily's hand as they walked, swinging their arms between them in time with every step. Every nerve in her hand felt like fire. She was aware of every curve, dip and pore on the girls hand. Heat flushed into her face and, not for the first time, she was glad the colour of her skin helped to hide it.

"Where are we going?"

Emily's attention was brought back to Maya with whiplash speed. "Sorry, what?"

Maya giggles. "Where are we going? Do the jocks have some secret, sport-themed spot in town somewhere?"

A small smile tugged at her lips. "I hadn't actually thought that far ahead."

They walked in silence for a few more blocks, no destination in mind. The sun bared down, pleasantly warm, on their faces. Skipping school had put a tingle of excitement in Emily's stomach that made her feel as though anything was possible. She felt braver. More prepared for the world. The way that holding Maya's hand made her feel wasn't worrying, but exciting.

"Let's go to mine," she said out of the blue. "My Mom got a job at the prescient, she'll be gone all day."

Maya glanced at her curiously, but then her face broke out into a wide smile. "Sure."

From where they were it only took them fifteen minutes to make it to Emily's front door. She held the door open for Maya, revelling in how close the girl had to be to pass her. Her perfume was fruity and fresh, and it passed in a cloud that lingered for seconds after Maya had moved. Emily closed her eyes and inhaled.

What are you doing?

Her eyes snapped open. What was she doing?

"What shall we do?"

Emily flicked her eyes up to Maya, standing in the centre of her living room. Her jeans hugged her hips and thighs in a way that made Emily feel a little weak. Her eyes must have lingered just a little bit too long because Maya cleared her throat, her eyes trained carefully on Emily.

Maya closed the gap between them and offered a hand. Before Emily could stop herself, she interlocked her fingers and followed the girl back across the room. She allowed herself to be towed to the sofa and the pair sat at opposite ends, linked only by their arms stretching across the furniture.

"Do you want to watch TV?" Emily asked, if only to break the silence.

"No."

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Are you thir…"

"No Emily."

The distance closed slightly between them. Emily became very aware of every movement that Maya was making. Aware of the sweat on the palm of her hand. Aware of Maya's intense stare.

"Relax."

The distance closed more. Maya was barely more than a foot away now. Emily could feel heat radiate from how close their legs were.

Where's your boyfriend Em?

"Shut up," she mumbled.

Maya tilted her head. "What?"

"Ah… no you…"

She smiled. It was beautiful. It was different. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before. Nerves began to set in. It was like the very act of telling her to relax had set every muscle on red alert for danger. Her hand fidgeted in Maya's. Her leg bounced in time with her pounding heart. Her eyes began to dart around the room, looking at anything except for the girl sitting across from her.

Her attention was recaptured by Maya placing her free hand on her thigh.

"Relax jock," she muttered. "Just… breathe."

Maya's lips were soft. Nothing like the rough kisses that she'd received from various boys over the years. They tasted sweet. As Maya's hands moved their way to her waist they left a trail of fire on her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed as she returned the kiss. For the first time ever, she wanted nothing else but to stay here, to kiss this girl and to never stop.

Ben.

Ben.

Ben!

She yanked herself away, leaving Maya stunned in her wake. Emily jumped off the sofa like she'd been electrocuted.

"I'm…" she swallowed. "I'm just going to go upstairs for a second, there's… there's food in the fridge, help yourself."

She trotted up the stairs before Maya could reply. The door to her bedroom was already open but she paid no attention to it, barely even noticed. She just wanted to get somewhere where she could let her cheeks cool and allow her thoughts to order themselves in private.

Air was cool in her lungs as she inhaled, and shaky as she exhaled. Thirty seconds later her hands stopped trembling and she opened her eyes.

Sat in the middle of her bed, surrounded by multicoloured rose petals was a box, and a note. She tilted her head in confusion. The box itself was plain grey, but the note was folded into the shape of a heart. Instantly she assumed that Ben had set this up. This thought had guilt twisting in her stomach.

Guilt about what, Em?

It was so unlike him though. Romantic gestures were never something he had ever done. Unless your idea of romantic was asking before touching you. She was curious though, thoughts of Maya temporarily removed from her mind.

The box was made of a soft silk material that screamed expensive taste. She fondled it for a moment before flipping the lid open.

Her heart dropped into her feet.

Nestled in a little black cushion was a silver chain necklace. At its end, painted with a pink and purple enamel, were two interlocking symbols for female. The box fell out of her hands and clattered to the floor. A cold sweat beaded on her forehead. Emily ripped open the note.

I thought it would look nice with your new identity

-A

…..

The building that housed Rosewoods best and brightest therapists was made of red brick and had snaking tendrils of wall climbing plants literally everywhere. At the front there was a door sandwiched between two massive windows on either side. Through them you could see the receptionist desk, a small café and a lift that probably led to the other floors. The receptionist herself was blonde, and thin, with black, half-moon glasses perched on her nose. Either side of the desk were tall, green plants. Though from outside you couldn't tell if they were real or fake.

Bile filled Aria's mouth as she took in every detail.

She forced herself to walk through the door and up to the woman. Her blonde hair was scrapped back into a pretty severe bun. It looked really uncomfortable. The silence stretched on just long enough for it to become awkward.

"Excuse me," Aria said.

The receptionist didn't look up. "Name?"

"Montgomery, Aria."

There was some furious typing, and then the woman plucked her phone from the desk and barked a few words too fast for Aria to make sense of. "You can wait over there." She pointed, still not looking up.

Aria followed her direction and sat in a hard-plastic chair against the opposite wall. She watched people walking by, praying that not one of them noticed that she was sitting there.

She didn't have to wait long before the women told her what floor to go to. Neither girl looked at the other as Aria scurried past to the lift. Floor eight, Doctor Anne Sullivan.

Unlike the lobby area, Dr. Sullivan's office was warm, and inviting. Bright and colourful paintings lined one of the walls, and a bookshelf with a variety of books, not just medical journals, stood against the opposite wall. At the far end was a desk, with a tall brunette sat behind it. In front, and taking up the centre of the room, were two blue sofas', and a coffee table.

"Aria?" The woman's smile was warm and inviting. "Please, take a seat, I'll just be one moment."

Aria nodded and curled herself up at one end of one of the sofas. She spent the time studying the woman who was supposed to be her therapist. She was middle aged, maybe forty, with soft features and a seemingly permanent half smile. If she had to have a therapist, Aria supposed it could have been worse.

After another moment Dr. Sullivan placed down her pen and joined her on the other sofa. "So, welcome to your second session."

Aria snorted. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, therapy can be difficult. Your notes here say that you were being seen by Dr. Einarsson. I've never met him myself, but judging by his picture on Google he seems like a somewhat boring individual."

This drew a small giggle from Aria, which only encouraged Dr. Sullivan to continue. She asked routine questions and for various bits of clarification from the notes from Iceland. For the majority of the session Dr. Sullivan stayed clear of the deep personal questions that had caused so much anxiety. Being back in Rosewood and brought back every feeling of the Before, and Iceland was supposed to have been her After.

"So," she said so a lot. "Now that that is all out of the way. How was your day?"

Aria was so thrown by the question that at first, she was completely silent. The silence was a mistake, because in the second moment the silence was replaced by memories jogged by that question. Ezra flooded her brain. Ezra pushing her against the barroom bathroom wall. Ezra kissing her in the classroom at school. Ezra's hands on her skin and his lips on her neck.

Then thoughts of betrayal. Her Mother airing her dirty laundry all over the school. The looks of pity that she didn't even know were pity from all of the teachers. It was only a matter of time before the students found out too. Only a matter of time.

"Aria?"

"Sorry," she coughed. "Yeah. Everything was fine."

Dr. Sullivan's eyes lingered on her for just a fraction too long before noting something down on her clipboard. "Okay, what about coming home?"

The muscles in Aria's jaw tensed. This was travelling into dangerous territory. Suddenly the conversation that had seemed so easy was escaping her.

"I have to go."

"But Aria we still have time."

"I'm sorry, I have to go."

"Aria…"

"I have to go."

She was off like a shot from the sofa. The receptionist didn't even flinch as she sprinted passed her.

She was so concerned with getting away that when she didn't notice the girl until she had barrelled straight into it. Half way through her apology she noticed the blonde hair and the familiar eyes but then the girl was gone, taking the rest of her sentence away with her.