a/n: i am sorry for the slow update :( but hey, you finally get to find out how they met! congratulations! :) unfortunately, there is one chapter left (+ epilogue!)... ugh. I wanted to focus more on the whole dance thing for Spencer, but it never fit in... sigh. I messed that up. lol.

Thanks so much for being the best people ever and being patient with me and leaving reviews and reading. You're all wonderful. I adore you all. Thanks so so so much. I love you all.

This chapter is gross. I don't... like I literally don't know. Like I don't know what happened, but it's really just not great? Like... it's very choppy... idk. I just. It's very... bad. I can't describe it. But it is what it is, I'm sorry. This chapter was very hard to write, and I'm sure you'll notice...

Chapter 27

Gambles

The first day of high school. Spencer Hastings thought the day would never come. She remembers seeing her older sister Melissa go off to high school. It was five years ago. It seems like it was only yesterday.

High school are the best years of your life. That's what they say at least. Spencer hopes that's not true. That'd be very unfortunate; living a life full of nostalgia, constantly reminiscing on the past; wishing the days could be like that once again. It seems like that would be an awful life. Who would want to live a life that has already peeked? No one.

But she does hope high school is fun. From everything Melissa has told her, it seems like it is. Of course, she will be focusing more on academics than anything else. Isn't that what school is for? To learn? Many would disagree with her on this, but she knows it's true.

Today is not really the first day of school though. It's orientation. There will be no actual learning. It's just a run through of classes and social activities; a pep rally to end it all.

Right now, they are in the midst of some weird, kid activity. They were given a photo of someone and a name to go along with it. They are supposed to find the person on the card, then write down five common interests on the back. With your partner, you turn in the picture and list of common interests, and receive a token to receive a free lunch.

Spencer has Toby Cavanaugh. Blue eyes. Ashy, mousy, messy hair. Looks like his mother dressed him.

She has been trying to find him for a good five minutes. It really doesn't matter who finds who first, but she is set on being the one who calls out his name. She'll win. She'll find him before he finds –

"Spencer, right?" the boy from the picture pops out in front of her, waving her school picture in front of him.

She frowns. Dammit. She whips up a careful smile, "yes. Hello. And you're Toby."

He nods in a noncommited way. "Yeah," his blue eyes connect with hers. "Well, now we're supposed to, like what, figure out what we have in common, right?"

She nods pointedly, narrowing her copper eyes on him. She hates kids who don't pay attention, especially to stupid things like this. "Five things. We write it on the back. We get a free lunch."

"Cool," he smiles like this is brand new information. She reminds herself not to roll her eyes. "Okay, then let's do it. Should we go somewhere a little less crowded?"

"They said that we are supposed to go to those tables," she nods over towards the side of the gym where the bleachers are. There are tables set up for them. Toby apparently completely spaced out when they gave those instructions.

"Oh," he frowns a little. "Must've not heard that," he shrugs. "Okay. Let's go."

They walk over to the tables. Spencer sits down in front of him, staring at him, trying to find the place where he fits. He could be a loser, nerd, whatever. But the thing is – past his scrawny legs and arms, he is pretty cute. He's tall and skinny, but his eyes are piercingly blue, and his cheek bones are high and bold. He dresses like his mother put out clothes for him – a blue polo and jean shorts – but then also has converse and messy hair. She and her friend Alison had decided that everyone falls into a group. Everyone can be categorized, but she is unsure about Toby at the moment.

He seems too indifferent to be a nerd/loser.

"Okay, so what are some things you like?" he asks.

"Learning."

"Me too," he nods.

"Really?"

He furrows his eye brows, "um. Not what you were expecting?" he chuckles nervously.

"Not what I was expecting at all," she states.

He seems a little taken back by this. He recoils in himself a little. He clearly takes this offensively.

"All right, well... let's just both write it down."

Then it clicks. He's just lying. He's just doing it to get out of the activity. It would go along with his indifferent attitude from before!

"I'm guessing you don't actually like learning."

"What?" he gives her a look of disbelief, "I do. Why – can we just move on?"

She presses her lips in a straight line. "Fine."

They both write down.

1) enjoys learning

Spencer waits for Toby to say something, but he doesn't. She sighs impatiently. "Well, what do you like to do?"

He shrugs. "I don't know."

She looks away, rolling her eyes. "Name something," she demands.

"I like The Smiths."

She keeps staring at him, her eyes becoming hard. He continues, understanding what her stare means. "I like music?" he sounds a little agitated. "Generic enough?"

"Perfect."

They scrawl the words down. They continue naming off things they like until they have a list of common interests. It's mostly generic stuff. But she guarantees that if she said, "I don't like you," they'd have that too. Both of them had made it clear that they were not going to be friends.

Day 34

She isn't sure what she's doing, or why she is choosing now to pity herself.

With Caleb's help (and Hanna's), she was able to throw a Surprise Congratulations/Going Away Party for Toby. She felt as if he deserved it, and so did Caleb. Hanna and Caleb had provided the location – their basement, accompanied with an open bar (thank God.) Everyone – Aria, Hanna, Emily, Caleb, Holden, Ezra and herself –pitched in on the drinks, and food, and whatever else.

As she prepared for the goodbye party, she had grown quite sad over the whole thing. There's only so much time she has left with Toby.

But even in those times of despair, she hadn't acted like this.

She is a wreck. An absolute disaster. She has lost count on the number of shots she has taken.

It's a party. You are allowed to be drunk, right?

She figures that's true. But she's been sitting in the corner, glowering and glaring at everything and everyone in sight.

They only have a week and a half left together. And yet, their relationship is still in question. They have still yet to decide.

Spencer feels like she knows what she wants, but she is unsure about Toby. He loves her. He said so. But does love really change anything?

"Whatcha doing?" Hanna asks in a patronizing tone as she sits down next to the drunk on the floor. Spencer has stolen an entire bottle of vodka from the bar. She's been sipping on it for the last hour, and has gotten pretty well into it.

Spencer shakes her head, "nothing."

"Really? Because it looks like you're getting drunk off your ass..." she states, narrowing her eyes on the bottle.

Spencer shrugs. "Maybe." She takes another gulp of it before Hanna snatches it away from her.

"Hey, that's mine." Spencer hisses.

"I'm doing this for your own good. You're one sip away from a black out."

"I'm fine," Spencer claims, but slurs it. "Gimmie it," she reaches out her hands like a toddler would.

Hanna tucks it under her. "No!" she shouts. "I'm being a good friend. I'm being the responsible one. You're forcing me to be the responsible one, Spencer. That's how drunk you are."

She rolls her eyes.

"This about Toby, isn't it?"

"Good job, Sherlock."

Hanna glares at her with her icy blues. "Don't be an asshole. I'm trying to help."

"Well, you're not doing a good job."

Hanna seethes, "it was your idea to throw him a party, so stop being such a downer. I get that it sucks, but now isn't the time, Spencer."

Spencer groans, pressing her hands to her face before ducking her head into her knees.

Hanna sighs, setting a friendly hand on her friend's curved back. "It'll be okay."

Spencer bolts up, a little too quickly, making herself feel nauseous. "You don't even care about our relationship. None of you do. You just think it's a joke, and Caleb gags every time I mention it."

"I know I make jokes, but that's just who I am!" Hanna defends. "You know that. You know I care. You're just drunk," Hanna rolls her eyes. "And Caleb's just immature, and jealous. You are both his best friends. He's just... worried," Hanna shrugs. "That he'll lose you guys to each other."

"That's ridiculous."

"Like I said, he's immature. But you know he cares too, Spencer. I'm sorry if we seem unsupportive sometimes, but we really are rooting for you guys."

"You could have fooled me," she mutters, mostly to herself, but loud enough for Hanna to hear.

"C'mon." Hanna states, grabbing Spencer's arm, "I'm taking you upstairs, and putting you to bed."

Spencer growls and hisses and fights, but she's too intoxicated. She has no sense of balance right now. She's incapable of fighting back against Hanna's grip around her. She gives in, letting Hanna drag her off. She calls over Aria, requesting her help, and soon she is being carried away by both her friends.

Day 35

She groggily wakes up the next day in her own bed, which is not only confusing, but alarming to her. Did she black out? Why can she not remember anything? The last thing she remembers is Hanna and Aria tucking her into bed, demanding she shut her eyes. They sat in the room until she cooperated, as if she were a child. (But she has to admit, she was acting like one.)

She reaches for her phone on the bedside table, checking the time. It's already pass 1PM. She drags her hand along her face, her whole entire head throbbing with the aftermath of alcohol. She tries to recall the events from last night again, but her mind is completely blank. She literally cannot remember a single detail after she was carted away. For a second she wonders if she dreamt the whole thing up. Was there even a party?

No, she knows there was. She's not that insane.

She scrolls through her contacts until she comes across Hanna. Three loud, annoying rings pass before the blonde answers.

"Hey, sweetheart," the blonde greets cheekily.

"Hi," Spencer puts forth tiredly. She recalls being a bitch to Hanna last night. She didn't mean to say those things. Although, she can't deny that they were a little bit true. Hanna and Caleb's attitude toward her relationship with Toby has been nothing but negative for the most part. "Look, I apologize for being a bitch last night. Are we good?"

"Let me borrow your your grey, high mule shoes?"

"Sure."

"Then, yes. We're good." She can hear Hanna's bubbly attitude towards life come to play.

"What happened last night?" she inquires.

"Oh – you don't remember?" Hanna sounds flustered.

Spencer shakes her head, "no?"

"Oh God..." Hanna's voice trails into dismay.

"What – Hanna what?"

"You... you were pretty horrible. You crashed the whole party. You came back downstairs, like some zombie, and started taking people's drinks. At first you just drank them, but then you started throwing them. It was like an episode of Girls Gone Wild."

"What!" Spencer exclaims too loudly for her own good. Her head throbs. She groans. "I don't – I literally don't remember any of that."

"Really? Wow. I can't believe you could forget that. I didn't think anyone would be able to forget that. People will probably be telling that story till their in old people diapers."

Spencer is completely astonished. "I – what?!"

Hanna begins snickering.

"You're fucking with me, aren't you?" she deadpans, rolling her eyes. Why did she believe her? Usually she isn't so gullible.

Hanna snorts. "Unfortunately, I am. That would have been something to see though."

"Okay... I despise you."

Hanna laughs again, harder this time, obviously enjoying the anger she had riled up in her friend.

"Can you please just tell me how I ended up at my apartment? The truth?"

"Toby took you home. You're a sound sleeper, Spence. Or maybe you were just passed out? Like actually passed out. Either way."

Spencer wishes this was another one of Hanna's jokes, but she somehow knows it's not. Embarrassment washes over her. "Oh. Well, thanks."

She says her farewell to Hanna before getting out of bed. She hears something coming from outside her door. Toby must be here still. She makes the shameful walk out of her room. She sees him on the couch, reading Great Expectations. He probably found it in her apartment. She frowns. He still hasn't noticed her.

"You always did have a thing for classics, didn't you?"

He jerks up, startled by her presence. His face softens after a moment though. He puts the book down and rises up off the couch. "How's the hangover?" he inquires, ignoring her comment. He is sounding more teasing than anything.

"Wonderful."

He snickers a little, like Hanna, enjoying her discomfort. "I never thought I'd see a day where Spencer Hastings woke up later than me."

Toby always woke up late, while she woke up early. It was just another thing between them that made them different. But sometimes when she thinks about it, she feels like they are more alike than anything.

"I'm just full of surprises."

He grins.

But her lips fall into a frown. "I'm sorry. I'm – sorry."

"For what? You threw me a surprise party. That's like on the top five nicest things anyone has done for me."

"Yeah, and then I ruined it," she grimaces. "What time did you take me home?"

"About a half an hour after they took you up stairs," she can see from the way his face crinkles that it's an estimate. "Long enough for you to have been in a deep sleep."

She frowns.

"Spencer, don't blame yourself," he puts forth with a sigh. "I mean, I wouldn't exactly qualify myself for boyfriend of the year. I didn't find you drunk in the corner, Hanna did."

"Because you were enjoying yourself, which was the point. So, I'm glad."

He frowns. "Why did you do that to yourself?"

"Everyone was drunk."

"Not like you. And you did alone."

"Hanna over exaggerates..." Spencer's eyes flicker away sheepishly.

Toby's hands fold around hers, his thumb tracing circles on her palms. She looks at their hands, keeping her sight away from Toby's eyes.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," she shrugs, pursing her lips. "Really, I'm fine," she looks at him finally. "Well, besides from this blaring headache," she cracks a small smile.

He gives her a tiny, toothless smile back, but she knows that he doesn't believe her. The way his face drops. The way he looks at her like he wants to make things better. "I'll get you some coffee," he states. "And some breakfast," he adds.

"You've already done enough," she shakes her head.

"Says the person who threw me a surprise party," a teasing smile folds out on his face.

She smiles a little. "Fine," she allows. "I'll allow you to be a sweet, loving boyfriend, but I don't like it."

He chuckles. "Thanks for the permission," he puts forth sarcastically.

She laughs a little. "Well, I'm going to go... brush my hair...and teeth, and face..." she grimaces a little.

"All right," he states. "Breakfast will be done shortly," he lets go off her hands.

She begins to turn, but stops. "You know, it's not really breakfast. It's hardly brunch."

He playfully rolls his eyes slightly, "just go."

She snickers before listening to him.

She shouldn't have thought the conversation would so easily go awry. Not when she knew he didn't believe her.

He had scrambled up some eggs and prepared a few pieces of toast for them both; coffee of course on the side. They ate, and joked, like always, and then suddenly the conversation is swinging on over to something serious.

"I told you – "

He cocks his head to the side, stopping her speech. "We both know that's not true."

She sighs, shrugging uncomfortably. "Fine," she states in huff. "I just – I'm selfish, and I – I'm going to miss you..." she flashes her doe eyes down. She is pretty much done with her meal.

"Spencer," his voice softens.

"And – this whole not knowing thing, it's just... it's stressing me out. I know I went six months with you on that premise, but I can't do that anymore. I'm sorry, but I can't. You're leaving in a week and a half. Less than that. And I'm still not sure where we'll stand when you go."

"I know," he nods. "We have to figure it out," he agrees.

She shakes her head. "I don't," she claims. "I know what I want," she confesses in a brisk statement.

He stares wide-eyed at her, "and what would that be?" he presses softly.

She blinks, swallowing. "I want to try to make this work."

His eyebrows furrow slightly.

"I just...you – I don't feel this way normally. You're the first person who has ever made me feel like... this." She glances away, "I know what happened last time. I know that you got screwed over, but..." she sighs a little. She goes to meet his stare, but he's not looking at her. She reluctantly continues, "but I have faith in us. And... I mean that. A month ago, I was reluctant to believe that we could last a week," she says. "And now look at me..."

She waits a second. "Toby...please look at me?" she requests.

He flickers hie azure eyes at her, his shoulders falling downward.

She presses her lips together, taking in a sharp inhale through her nose. "If you don't want this...you can tell me," she provides, managing a smile, but her eyes gloss with tears. "But please...just figure it out. Because I can't do this anymore. I can't live with the uncertainty."

He frowns. "Spencer," his coarse voice meets her. She can tell that it's going to be bad news. She braces herself.

He shakes his head, standing up from his chair. She watches him closely, narrowing her eyes on him, unsure of what's going on. "What are you doing?" she questions hesitantly.

"I don't know," he begins to pace, pushing two fingers into his wrinkled up forehead. He paces a little around the kitchen, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. "I don't know," he states a little more assertively.

She sighs, looking down. "The ball's in your court," she reminds him. "Take the day to decide. Tomorrow, even. Just... tell me know by Monday." It's currently Saturday.

"I'm going to go to the dance studio," she declares before stepping out of her seat. "And I'm guessing you have some stuff to do today too."

He doesn't deny or confirm, he just stares. She brings the dishes to the sink. He watches her.

"I know this is unfair to you. I'm sorry," his voice startles her a couple minutes later as she puts the plates and silverware into the dishwasher.

She turns toward him, slowly leaning against the counter. "Don't."

His face falls into something melancholic. She slumps her shoulders, letting out a little sigh before striding over to him. She collects his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing across his sideburns. Their eyes connect in a wisp of sincerity. Everything that she cannot express flows into him through the gaze. She swallows before reaching out to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "You asked me to take a risk with you when you told me how you felt, and now I'm doing the same." She pauses. "But I'll understand if you don't want to take the jump with me." He got splattered the first time. His bungee chord got stuck. He had hit the ground face first, taking on the role of humpty dumpy.

He frowns. "I want to..." he murmurs gently, his azure eyes coated with mist. "It's just hard."

She nods again, "I know."

His lips collide with hers a second later, his hands riding down her shoulders and down to her waist. He pulls her closer into him, their bodies meeting each other like many times before. But it feels different this time. Like he's holding her out of desperation – a thriving, compulsive need to have her close to him. She gasps a little at the sudden proximity; at the sudden deep depth of passion between them. It catches her off guard, her lips struggling to keep up. His tongue slips into her mouth making her fingers curl. She falls into him, leaving all sense of balance behind. Her head completely goes fuzzy.

Eventually it turns slow – tender, soft, gentle. Then it just stops completely. He pulls away, and stares at her for a good minute before slumping his shoulders down, and taking in a deep breath. He begins to nod. She squints at him, unsure what to think of it.

"Let's do it."

She blinks.

"I'm taking the risk with you."

A smile pans out on her face, she fumbles a little before speaking. "I – looks like we're even then."

"Looks like it," he states. The way his eyes shine upon her – the way they grow and wide in sight of her, full of adoration and awe makes her heart swell.

She swallows, unable to control her grin. She giggles a little. The noises escaping her made of pure bliss. "I'm..." her fingers make circles on his chest mindlessly, "I really do need to go to the dance studio today. I wasn't lying."

He smiles wickedly. "You decide to quit law yet?"

"No," she says pointedly, smiling in spite of herself. "But..." she starts apprehensively, "I admit it has crossed my mind."

He widens his eyes a little, "really?" he lights up.

"It's just a thought. Calm down," she directs, amused.

"Thoughts become words, words become actions... isn't that what they say?"

She smirks. "If you're Gandhi, yes..." she puts forth.

He laughs at this. He parks his lips on hers for a moment. "We're really doing this, aren't we? Long distance. It's official?"

"If that's what you want."

He nods, "Yeah," he murmurs after a moment of pondering. "It is."

Her smile widens a little. After a moment a thought occurs. "I wonder... I wonder if I hadn't been a bitch in high school, if this...if we... Like, I'm not even talking about the physics project thing... but before that."

He laughs. "Spencer, we were both immature. I thought you were a stuck up, snobby, know it all. After that first day, I refused to give you any other chance, even when Caleb started begging."

"I was a stuck up, snobby, know it all."

He laughs, "well, I wasn't perfect myself. I kind of judged you before I even knew you... you know that stupid orientation game? I saw the name Hastings, and immediately kind of hated you. I knew you were friends with Alison. Any friend of Alison's... I just immediately thought was horrible."

She laughs. "I probably would have thought the same..." she admits, shrugging. She laughs, recalling the orientation game. "I was kind of pissed off that you found me first," she guffaws. "In that game, ya know? Remember? We had to find each other? I remember you found me first, and I was so pissed off that I just wanted to piss you off in return."

He laughs, "wow. Tell me again why I'm in love with you?" he gives her a look.

Her heart skips at the words. She'll never get used to him saying that. "Because I'm a stuck up, snobby, know it all?" she smiles coyly, leaning on her heels, going into him.

He chuckles, bringing his arms around her. He presses his face against her head, smiling. "Yeah, that's it," he teases.

"Whatever it is," she begins, "I'm glad."

"Me too."

Whatever happens, they'll figure it out. They'll take risks for each other and gamble out their hearts because the way they feel about each other is worth it all.