A/N: To the reviewer that asked, yes I am a Pretty Little Liars fan and yes that reference in my first A/N was intentional haha :)

There's an old rope ladder that Arthur set up around the side of the Carlin's house when Spencer and I were in elementary school. It leads right up to Spencer's balcony, and she and I used to think it was the coolest thing that we could get straight up to her room from outside if we wanted just by climbing a ladder. She never took it down, and it's still there. I suck at climbing, but I'm willing to give it a try.

Outside of Spencer's house at just past midnight, I take off my heels and then toss them onto the grass, then give the ladder an experimental tug. Hesitantly, I get my feet onto the first rung and then cling to the ladder, letting it hold my full weight. It doesn't snap, so I must be good.

Ten tries and a couple of skin burns later, I've left my shoes behind and am up on the balcony with red hands and grass stains on my clothes. Spencer's got a glass door that slides open, but when I try it, it's locked. I can see her sleeping inside, her back to me. Hesitantly, I knock on the glass a couple of times. She stirs but doesn't get up. I knock harder and she rolls over, then squints at me. After a moment, she sits up and stares. I know she's wondering whether or not she should even let me in. I also know she will.

Finally, she sighs visibly and gets up, padding over to me and then sliding the door open. "What are you doing?"

I feel sheepish all of a sudden. "Climbed the ladder thing."

She just looks even more confused. She's still squinty-eyed. "We haven't done that in at least five years."

"Well… evidently it's still functional." There's silence now, and I watch her carefully. "Can I come in? We need to talk."

She swallows hard, suddenly tense, and after a hard look at me, she finally sighs and walks away, leaving the door open for me to follow her. She sits down on the bed and I join her as we face each other.

"So talk."

I take a moment to think about how to start. "What you said really hurt me."

"You didn't exactly make me feel any better."

"I know. But I only said what I said because I was hurt. You know better than anyone that when I'm vulnerable, I lash out," I point out. She doesn't say anything, so I go on. "And Spencer, please, please tell me that you know I have no problems with you liking girls. I just… I wanted you to feel the way you made me feel. I know that I'm not good with dealing with tough situations. I like it when things are easy, and simple, and… and it feels like nothing in my life ever is. What happened with us made no sense to me and a large part of that was because you're a girl, and it helped that…" I pause, trying to collect the jumble of thoughts in my head.

"I just… I felt like I could relate to you because obviously we were going through all of the same confusion, with both of us feeling like we did toward not only our best friend, but another girl… and I thought that we were on the same page, that we were in it together, and now I feel like you had leverage over me. Like you only had to deal with half the issues I had to because you already had the girl thing covered. Not to mention that I thought we were on the same page sexually and that clearly wasn't true either so… I felt used and-"

"Ashley," she finally interrupts, "you have to stop thinking about it like that. All I was thinking about that night was that I was enjoying kissing my best friend, and trust me, that's plenty confusing on its own. I had no idea what I was doing either."

"Well, it certainly didn't feel like it," I murmur, half-kidding. It gets her to crack a small smile.

"I know." She watches me for a moment before finally proposing, "So I'll forgive you for the gay slur and for accusing me of taking advantage of you, if you forgive me for saying you always give up when things get tough, and… for not being as honest with you as I could've been given the circumstances."

"Okay," I agree immediately, relief washing over me. "I'll agree to anything. I just want us to be okay again, Spence."

She nods, her smile small but sincere. "Me too."

We watch each other for a moment, and the silence is just about to last too long when I abruptly remember the end of our fight. "…Can I ask you something, Spencer?"

She nods, waiting for me to continue.

"What did you mean when you said that I was scared? And that you see things, too? What were you talking about?"

Spencer's eyebrows briefly rise in surprise for a moment before she hastily shakes her head. "Oh, that was nothing. I probably just thought it sounded cool at the time or something."

"Probably?"

She forces a smile, then gives me a short nod. "Yeah. Don't worry about it."

I just watch her knowingly. "I can tell you're lying, Spence."

"It's one in the morning, Ash," she sighs out, changing the subject so obviously that I roll my eyes.

"Okay, fine. So let me ask another question…" I pause for effect. She looks mildly annoyed, but I can tell she's not angry at me anymore, at least. "How many girlfriends have you had?"

She groans audibly, then ignores my question. "I don't want to talk about this right now. We have school tomorrow. We should both go to bed."

"I don't," I correct. "I got suspended today."

She pauses at that. "What? Why?"

I hesitate for a moment. "I thought Madison was saying something about, um… you know, she and Sherry were talking about the closet thing at lunch after you left, and I got into a little tiff with Madison over it."

Spencer looks dead serious now. "What did you do?"

I smile sheepishly. "I may have punched her."

I'm trying to turn this into a joke, but Spencer doesn't seem to think it's funny at all. "Please tell me you're exaggerating."

My smile fades. "They had to take her to the nurse; her nose was bleeding pretty badly. I mean, so were my knuckles but no one seemed to-"

"Oh my God, you didn't." She's got an expression on her face I've never seen before. She looks terrified.

"Spencer, what-?"

"You made her angry; she's going to tell everyone," Spencer interrupts, her breathing picking up. I furrow my eyebrows.

"Spencer, even if she does, it was a lame party gag. For all everyone knew, we were drunk. We can shrug it off."

Spencer just shakes her head. She's starting to cry now and I'm so lost. "Last year, Madison walked in on Carmen and me in one of the school bathrooms. I've been doing everything I can to keep her quiet. Her laundry, her homework… I clean up every day after cheerleading practice and do everything she says. If my family finds out…"

I just stare at her, slack-jawed. "Spencer, I had no idea."

"I'm lucky she didn't tell anyone when I told you about her and Aiden, but I couldn't let them do that to you, I had to tell you-" I nod to let her know I understand, wiping at her tears with my thumb. "But after this? There's no way she won't say something tomorrow."

"So we tell someone," I suggest hastily. "Maybe the principal. It has to be bullying or something, right? She's been blackmailing you."

"And have the principal tell my parents? Yeah, right." She shakes her head and pushes my arm away when I try to wipe the rest of her tears away.

"Spencer-"

"Ash, I think you should go," she tells me, refusing to look at me anymore.

"Spencer, I'm not leaving you. Look at me." I grasp at her arms and she yanks them away, her breathing heavy. "Spencer, please."

"I can't, I can't have everyone know," she sobs out. "My mom will hate me, and Glen… Clay…"

"But your dad," I remind her immediately. "You dad can change their minds, okay, and they won't hate you, Spence-"

"They will. They so will."

"Hey, I've known them just as long as you have," I remind her, finally getting her to look at me by cupping her cheek with my hand. "Spencer, your family loves you. Yes, it will suck when they find out, but I know you've known that, probably for years now. And you have me, and I will never hate you, okay? You're the best person I know. You're…" I swallow hard as her eyes search mine, blue and watery and beautiful. "You're everything to me and I'm so sorry that I hurt you. You didn't deserve that, or anything that Madison's done to you, or any crap you've gotten from anyone. And I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure people leave you alone, even if it means taking every verbal hit myself, okay?"

She takes in a sharp breath when I'm done, then bites her lip as though she's not sure if she should speak. Her eyes don't leave mine and she finally breathes out, "I think…" Her breath hitches and she hesitates for another moment. I don't know when my heart started pounding this much. She swallows hard. "I think I've been in love with you for a very long time… and I just didn't realize it until this weekend."

My head swims, my chest clenches, and my mouth suddenly goes dry. Even if my mouth could move, I can't think properly enough to find the right words to reply. I'm not even sure if Spencer expects me to reciprocate, but if she does, I don't know if I can. She's had so much more time to sort through her feelings than I have. I know I love her. But in love with her? In love with my best female friend?

She doesn't wait for me to speak, just cups my cheek and leans in, gently covering my lips with her own. I never thought I could feel so at peace and so energized at the same time until now. She sighs against my lips and guides our kiss with a soft flick of her tongue, and then she's so close it's like she wants to sink into me. We're so close but it's not close enough, and I'm so warm, and she's so beautiful.

She finally pulls away. My mind races as our foreheads press together and she caresses my cheek. I still don't know what to say. "I think you should stay," is all she murmurs, and I nod and let her pull me down to the bed beside her, where we lay intertwined until her sniffling stops and she eventually drifts off to sleep. I stay up all night, deep in thought as I watch her rest and take in small things I never noticed about Spencer, like the way her breathing is so even and peaceful despite the stress she's feeling, and the way her hand is soft and smooth as it rests loosely in mine, and how her eyelashes only get prettier when they're shiny with tears.

By morning, I think I know what Spencer was talking about in my driveway the other day. What I was so scared of. What I'd always felt, deep down, but could never quite put my finger on, maybe because I didn't want to deal with what it meant. What I tried to convince myself I wouldn't be scared of, as if telling myself that I wouldn't mind it somehow meant that I couldn't be in denial.

What those two letters were.