So, this is my absolute favorite chapter of the whole story. I hope I did it justice.
"Hey, hey, it's okay," whispered Toby as he stroked Eloise's back. She had come straight to Toby's motel room downtown after her big fight with Aria. She texted him, saying that she needed to escape for a little while, and he welcomed her gladly saying that he loved having her around. She was afraid that opinion might have changed when she barged into his room with tears streaming down her face and no explanation.
"No, it's not okay," she whined softly in return. She had been sitting on the edge of the motel bed next to Toby for a few minutes, and his presence was the only thing in her life that seemed to calm her. "Everything is far from okay."
"What can I do to help?" he asked, gently whispering as he kissed her ear.
"Nothing. There is nothing you can do. My friends all hate me, my family is gone, and my life is complete and utter hell. I just wish I could. . . ."
"You could what? If you could do anything or have anything, what would it be?"
Eloise hesitated for a moment before she started talking. "I would go back in time. I would change every goddam decision I've made in the last few years." She rested her head on Toby's chest, trying not to start full-on sobbing.
Toby sighed. "Regret. I know what that's like, believe me. I regret everything I've done, the person I've become, every choice I've ever made, it feels like. I think there's only one thing that I don't regret?"
Eloise sniffled. "Yeah? What's that?"
"Hiding in that closet in the Grille. Because if I wasn't spying on some one that day. . . I would have never met you." Eloise blushed and looked Toby in the eye before he started to continue. "Eloise, you are the only person who has understood me since. . . "
"Since she died?"
"Spencer. Her name was Spencer." Eloise saw Toby begin to tear up when he said it. "I thought that when she died, I'd never be able to be happy again, or move past it. I felt like the world around me was fake. But being with you, I feel. . . alive again. Like I've finally met someone real."
Ironic, thought Eloise mournfully. I am the furthest thing from real. But it didn't stop the words coming out of her mouth: "I feel the exact same way."
Toby smiled at her and pulled her close. Her grinned as he leaned in and and kissed her. She kissed him back, but after a moment, she began to unbutton his shirt
He stopped for a moment and said, "Do you want to. . .?" He didn't finish the question, but he didn't have to. Eloise nodded, and kept unbuttoning. She knew it was too fast for Eloise, but Aria was right: somewhere, deep down, Spencer was still there. And Spencer loved Toby. Spencer had thought about Toby nonstop for months, and he was finally here, right in front of her.
Toby gently pulled Eloise's soft t-shirt of her head, revealing her lacy white bra. He gently moved his hand over her bare skin and unclipped it, feeling her naked body.
His fingers danced over the freckles and birthmarks that speckled across her torso. His touched everyone one, from her stomach to her shoulders to chest. She had always been self conscious about them, hating to wear bikini's and crop tops because of the ugly brown dots. But she didn't feel this way with him. She felt like he was canvasing every inch of her, protecting her.
Eloise closed her eyes, losing every sense but her sense of touch. Electric shocks danced through her with every moment Toby's fingers grazed her bare chest. She was so attune to the movement of Toby's fingers that her eyes shot open in surprise when only his pointer finger remained, stiff and frozen on a point just above where her rib cage ended.
Eloise looked down to the point he was touching. His finger was stiffly focused on a small brown spot, the size of a dime with the color of a dirty penny.
His finger was stuck on one of her many birthmarks that littered her body. The particular spot that Toby was touching was so close to her breasts that no one other than him had seen it before, and she was sure that he recognized it.
After a long second, his finger started to shake, and he drew it back as if the spot had shocked him. He clearly remembered that spot, that unique spot that NOBODY else in the world had. He leaped off the bed and waked backwards until he hit the wall of the room. Eloise watched his fingers shake, then his hand, then his arm, and then eventually his whole body. His jaw dropped to the floor and his eyes bugged out. He was breathing so hard and fast that he could barely choke out the words:
"Spencer? Are you Spencer?"
Eloise yanked her t-shirt back over her head and slipped her sneakers on as fast as she could. She started to run for the door, but Toby was bigger and faster. He wedged his body between her and the exit, and he grabbed her shoulders with his hands. He seemed to be sizing her up, rapidly casting his eyes over every part of her body. "You heard me," he whispered, fury in voice. After a moment of silence and stillness, he screamed at her.
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?" His grip tightened on her shoulders and fury consumed his face. Eloise had never, ever seen that face before. That hard face, that face full of anger and fear, was what finally made her talk.
"It's me," Eloise whispered. "It's me, Toby. I'm Spencer." Those words broken the Berlin wall that had formed between Eloise and the rest of the world. Toby loosened his grip on her, and his arms fell limply to his side. His whole body relaxed, as if a giant weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He stared at Eloise's face for a moment, not believing for the smallest fraction of a second.
Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around her tightly, as if he didn't believe she was really there and needed to feel her. Eloise could feel his body shaking and convulsing with sobs, big, heavy sobs. No, she thought. This is not happening. This is not real.
Toby Cavanaugh does not cry.
But he did. He sobbed hysterically as he pulled Spencer close, squeezing her tighter and tighter until she felt as if she might collapse. But she didn't care. All she cared about was the words that he cried out between gasping breaths:
"Spencer, I am so, so sorry. Forgive me. I love you."
