a/n: i know i said there would be a flashback but ugh i'm a liar ! Also there isn't that much spoby, but there is spoby, so get ready little munchkins.

Also, another apology: I'm so sorry I haven't updated. I am just so busy and gah. I really wish I could update more.

AND LASTLY, THANK YOU SO SO SO SO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS. 101? THAT IS TRULY AMAZING. THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH. It warms my heart. It is just awesome that people read this and have joy because of that. Like that makes me super happy. :)

P.S. I promise that my lack of updates isn't because I don't care about this story anymore because i do. I have head canons about this story that I'm not sure I will even fit in!

Chapter 8: Physics and Dreams

Every once in awhile, Spencer would meet with Alison Dilaurentis. They had been best friends all through middle school and then high school. Of course, Alison had her posse in high school, consisting of Jenna Marshall and Mona Vanderwaal, but Alison, surprisingly, stayed close with Spencer all at the same time. You see, the two both were very strong willed—they played the leader, and would not let themselves fall into any position that belittled them. They were best friends, but rivals. Middle school had been full of pointless drama regarding who was the "queen bee". Although, when high school came around, Spencer decided that Alison could have the position. She didn't want it. She was tired of the games—she didn't even really care who ran the halls, although she would not bow down to Alison. Nor would her friends. Alison, at first, was skeptical of this arrangement—Spencer Hastings backing down from a competition? It was unheard of! But eventually, the girl trusted her, and everything became fine and dandy between the two, possibly better than it had ever been before. Of course this arrangement didn't stop Spencer from becoming the president of her class and captain of her field hockey team. Alison, who had been on the field hockey team, also wishing to be captain, was pissed, but seemed to get over it about two weeks later. The girl had been dramatic, and obsessed with all things superficial, but she was the closest thing Spencer had to a real sister. Her biological one had never done it for her.

Now, Alison was different. She didn't care about popularity or any of those superficial things, like who wore the best clothes and who owned the newest designer purse. College changed her. She had grown up.

Spencer likes this Alison a lot more than the past one.

The blonde wraps her slender arms around Spencer, her blue eyes vibrant and celebrating. She still can't get used to the feeling of hugging Alison. It is strange and peculiar and unnatural. Throughout high school and middle school, Spencer had probably hugged the girl twice. She had been far off from affectionate. A warm smile crafted on her face towards someone was described as a monumental moment—even to her friends.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!" she exclaims, her voice bubbly and energetic, like one of a five year old. She pulls away, but keeps her hands on her shoulders. "I'm so glad you could make it today!" she adds, taking a seat across from her.

They sit at an outdoor bistro—a place only Alison would know of. It is small and classical, overlooking a small harbor that lies along the Schuylkill River. The air around them is still warm from the summer heat, but beginning to chill. Breezes come in from the river, which sets the perfect temperature for wearing a sweater.

"So, how have you been?" Alison asks, holding up her menu, and scanning her eyes across it. She glances up at Spencer, waiting for answer to be delivered.

She doesn't say it like she is just saying it to be nice, she says it like she really cares, and Spencer likes that—she likes that Alison really cares, when in high school, she so obviously didn't.

"Good," Spencer murmurs, and for once, she really means it. Usually, whenever asks her how she is doing, she'll respond with the same word—fine. It is an initial reaction. Even if she isn't—it will just come out without thinking. It is an automatic reflex. But this time was different…she actually took the question to thought. And surprisingly, the answer wasn't negative, nor dishonest.

"One of my best friends is getting married—I'm her maid of honor," Spencer makes a face of woe before looking back to her menu.

A smile dances across the blonde's lips, "Oh. Do I know this person? Am I going to have to battle them for the title of your BFF?" she dips her head down, her eyes dazzling and joking, but curios.

"You don't know the bride, but you do know the groom."

"Ooh, do tell," the blonde looks at the woman across from her, raising her perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"Caleb."

Alison sort of chuckles before her eyes skirt back to the menu, "I should've known. Well, I'm still waiting for my invite," she hummed, winking at her friend.

Spencer opens her mouth to speak, but Alison goes first, "I'm just kidding." She sets her hand over her friend's, "I probably have spoken two words to the kid," the blonde's eyes wander away for a quarter of a second.

Spencer smiles, "if you really wanted to—"

"No, no, no," she pulls her hand away, "I mean I'm sure it will be lovely—you're planning it, I doubt it will be anything less than perfect, but I don't want to intrude." She makes a face, scrunching up her nose and eyes and mouth—her whole face, disdaining the idea. "Besides, I am going on another mission trip."

"Really?" Spencer pipes up excitedly. Alison had gone on so many mission trips in the past couple years, Spencer couldn't even keep track of all the places she visited. It is strange to believe the one who was called bitch nonstop throughout high school—and for good reason, if Spencer was being honest—was now attending church every Sunday, and spending her summers building houses for the unfortunate. Whenever Spencer told Caleb of all Alison's grand achievements and adventures, he would always respond, "bull shit." It was unbelievable. She literally became a different person after high school. "Where to this time?" she inquires.

"Guatemala. We are working with kids this time—teaching them how to read and everything. It's going to be great, Spence. You should come with me one of these times!"

"Yeah, I don't know…I'll have to get this one thing called, law school, removed before I go there. That bitch is really controlling my life."

Alison smiles, "well, at least you're pursuing your dreams."

Spencer nods a little, but she can't put full commitment into that nod. Being anything but a lawyer has never crossed her mind, not since she was little, of course. It was something that just went with her. Like Oreos go with milk. It just happens. A chemical bond of sorts. If she weren't becoming a lawyer, things would be chaotic. Her family would most likely disown her and never speak to her again. It is a family business, and they weren't going to let Spencer ruin tradition.

The waiter comes by a few seconds later, introducing himself and apologizing that he hadn't come by sooner. He asks if they are ready to order, like any waiter or waitress does, and with a little telepathic conversation between the two girls, they tell him they are.

They both order waters and salads, keeping it plain and simple.

After the waiter leaves with their orders in hand, the two dove back into small talk. They talk about Alison's boyfriend, and if Spencer has been dating anyway recently—no, she hasn't. They talk about how fast September swept by, and how crazy it is that soon they'll be trick or treaters lining up at people's doors. They talk about how just yesterday they were trying out for field hockey and talking about Jesse McCartney's new album. They talk all the way to the point where their food arrives to their table, and in their mouths.

And then, when Spencer is taking her last bite of salad, her phone goes off. She sets her fork down, and fishes her phone from her purse handing over the chair.

Toby.

"You can take it, if you need to," Alison tells her.

"Um, no, it's just—no one," she decides to call him, setting her phone on the table next to her. "I can call him back."

"If he were no one, I don't think you would be smiling."

Spencer didn't even realize the small smile that settled on her face. Where the hell did that come from? She quickly anchors down the corners of her lips and frowns. "I'm not—smiling."

Alison rolls her vibrant blue eyes, chuckling. "Same ol' Spencer. Never admitting she likes likes someone."

"You think…" she begins to laugh, almost hysterically, "that I like him?" she glances at her phone, shaking her head a little, her eyebrows furrowing gently. "No," she purses her lips, staring back up at Alison, shaking her head quickly now. "No, definitely not. I can barely stand him—let alone like. Just no."

"If you can't stand him, why is he calling you on a Sunday?"

"I told him that I would help him with his dancing—he's part of the wedding," she explains. "He sucks at dancing, and he's my partner, so… I don't know. I don't want him to embarrass me, so…"

"What's his name?" Alison asks, a coy smile embarking her lips, clearly ignoring everything Spencer is telling her.

"It doesn't matter."

"Do I know him?"

Spencer avoids the question, not wanting to spend a conversation on Toby Cavanaugh and his return to her daily life. Although, apparently the universe and all the gods and everything that make her life what it is, wants Alison to know who he is. Her phone goes off again, this time just a sound of a text. It is from Toby and Alison spots it.

Her eyes go wide at the sight, her eyebrows twisting slightly, "Toby Cavanaugh? As in the one from high school?"

Spencer presses the button on her phone to dismiss the text, not even bothering to check what he said. "Yeah…he's still friends with Caleb…so," she sighs. "You know it was pretty much inevitable that I would have to deal with him again."

Alison nods a little, letting her back fall against the chair. She sets her hands on the table, her fingers ripping a napkin—Spencer noticed a long time ago that this is what Alison did when she felt nervous, or uncomfortable. Spencer wonders why she feels that way right now. "Are you two friends?" she questions in a murmur.

"I wouldn't go that far…"

Alison looks up at her after a moment, her face indifferent. For a moment, Spencer feels like Alison is going to reprehend her for being in communication with Toby like she had in high school, but that isn't it. "I have to confess something—and you aren't going to like it."

"Go on," Spencer urges her, giving her a look of obscurity.

Alison inhales through her nose sharply and fixes her posture so her shoulders are rolled back and her back in straight. She flicks a few pieces of blond hair out of her face before opening her mouth to speak. "Senior year…when we had that physics project…you thought that Toby was the one who ruined yours, but it wasn't. It was me—I ruined your physics project."

Spencer doesn't know what to say. Anger courses through her, infuriating her and firing her bones. Her face becomes guarded and hard, preparing for war with the woman across her. "Why would you do that?" she asks, her voice husky and thick, full of steady anger.

"You know how I was…I did things on impulse. I was a bitch! Spencer, I'm not asking you to forgive me right now. But please just don't be mad at me forever. It was stupid, I was so—horrible back then. I'm sorry, I really am."

Spencer looks at her with a hard glare, not bothering to look for any forgiveness inside her. "Why would you do it?" Spencer questions, her voice only a tad more mellow, "What was your reasoning back then?"

Alison lets her eyes fall to the plate In front of her for a moment before looking back at her friend. "I was just—annoyed. I noticed that you and Toby were becoming close, and I was jealous. I saw my chance to ruin your friendship and I took it."

"Jealous?"

"I never told you, but there was a reason I hated Toby. It wasn't just because he was some loser, but something else. It was pretty irrational, but… my hate for everyone back then was pretty irrational." She takes in a breath, "but freshmen year, I put myself out there, and he rejected me. After that, I decided that I would ruin his high school life."

"But look, I would take it all back if I could…I really would. I was awful back then, but you know I've changed. Please Spencer, just don't hold it against me forever."

She doesn't say anything for a few seconds, she just sits there and stares at the last couple pieces of lettuce on her plate. She doesn't know what to say, or do. Alison has changed, but that doesn't mean Spencer can't be angry, right?

Spencer just stares at her, and tries to be nonchalant. She doesn't say more on the subject, and when Alison tries to start a new one, Spencer's responses are short. The lunch soon ends and the two friends part ways.

They waltz and tango around the empty room in steady, circular movements. It is sort of stiff and choppy, but that is the whole reason Spencer came, right? She can tell he has been practicing—at least trying to anyways. She wonders how it is even possible for one person to be so terrible at dancing. He moves his feet the wrong way, and forgets his arm movements all together. He truly does need a lot of help. Him inviting her over to his apartment definitely wasn't because he wanted to just have a reason to hang out with her. He needs help. Lots and lots of help.

"Okay, want to break?" Spencer asks him, feeling like she will purposely slam her foot into his if she does not get to pause this train wreck.

"Sure," he murmurs, stepping away from her, and letting her arms fall to her sides.

"You want some water?" he asks her, walking toward his kitchen.

"Sure," she hums softly, following him, swinging her hands behind her back.

Ever since she got here, she has been burdened with ongoing feelings of guilt. This whole time she has been blaming him, when it was her own best friend who stabbed her in the back. Maybe if she would have believed him they would be friends right now. All those years wasted on false hate. She doesn't know how to feel now. She has no reason to really hate him. She can barely recall why she hated him in the first place. She thinks Alison was part of it. She doesn't doubt that her friend's influence encouraged her hatred. How does she look at him now? She doesn't know what to feel.

"Toby," she says, leaning back against a cupboard, staring down at the water bottle placed between her hands, rather than him.

She can feel him looking at her, so she starts up again. She looks up as she speaks, "I'm sorry I didn't believe you…and I'm sorry I blamed it on you."

She doesn't have to say what she is talking about, she knows he knows. His features crinkle a little, and his voice is thick, "what changed your mind?"

"Alison." She answers, meeting his sapphire, cool, eyes. "I had a lunch date with her today…she told me."

He doesn't break the stare, but he also doesn't change the coolness of it. She looks away.

"You know she's changed…she isn't that Alison now. She goes on mission trips and does fundraisers and tells the truth. She isn't the cold heart bitch she was in high school." She looks at him again. He wasn't looking at her before, but now he is—his eyes softer and calm, but still cool. "I guess I just knew it was easier to blame you. Alison was supposed to be my best friend… she did some horrible things, but they were never directed at me. I wanted to believe her, but I shouldn't have."

He doesn't say anything like, 'it is okay,' or 'I forgive you,' or even, 'I understand.' Instead he just looks at her for awhile, his eyes empathic and understanding. And for some reason, Spencer feels that look is better than anything he could ever say at that moment. Then he looks down at his water bottle, and possibly remembers why they are here in the first place.

"Better get back to this dancing thing, right? I need a lot of work."

"Yeah, yeah I guess."

It is after another round of dance practice when Toby tells her how amazing at dance she is. It is strange being complimented by Toby. She doesn't know how to register it, but apparently her body does. When the words exit his mouth and enter her ears, blush joins the party and dances furiously on her cheeks. She has to look away from him. She doesn't even understand why she is blushing. It is just a compliment. A compliment from some guy that she doesn't know where she stands with. She doesn't like him in any way like that. She knows that much at least. Normally this doesn't happen.

She takes in a deep breath, trying to wash away the red stains on her cheeks. "Thanks," she murmurs, still not willing to look at him. It would just make it more embarrassing, which would lead her to blush harder.

They sit on his couch. She doesn't know why she didn't just leave after they were done. She should have, but Toby offered to order a pizza and she accepted. Then they began watching some movie on HBO, but now that movie was over and the pizza was gone, and they were just left with silence.

"I don't really do it that much anymore," Spencer tells him. Truthfully, she isn't even that great. At least not anymore.

"I thought it was your thing?"

"My thing?" she finally looks at him, no longer feeling the heat coating on her face.

"You know," he shrugs, "your thing."

She gives him a look of obscurity.

"The thing you love doing. Your passion. The thing you want to do when you grow up."

She twists her eyebrows a little, and shrugs her shoulder. "Passions change. I mean, you aren't doing carpentry anymore…"

"Sometimes I do, I have jobs here and there, and make random things every so often. But I enjoy music more. I always have, I just was…too afraid." He seems hesitant at first when telling her he was afraid, but he still tells her anyways. "Do you really have a passion for the law?"

She keeps her stare away from him, and tightens her mouth, "it's okay. You can't always follow your dreams, y'know?" she glances at him. "It's more complicated than that."

"What would you be doing then? If you were following your dreams?"

She ponders for a moment, staring at black TV screen in front of them, "I don't know. I guess I've never really thought of it before."

"What?!"

"What?" she glares at him.

"You've never dreamed about what you wanted to be when you were older? Not even when you were a kid?"

"I mean maybe when I was a kid, but I don't know. Going into law was always just common knowledge. I didn't have to think about it. I knew I was going there."

He doesn't stop staring at her. He looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn't. He just stares with blue irises, a little furrow to his brow and a tiny frown to his mouth. Then, he finally speaks, "maybe you should think about it some more."

And maybe she would.

a/n: maybe add a review ;) ?