A/N: I'm glad to see you weren't totally bored with the dialogues last chapter. Maxi-Luca, I sided with Emily too. But, you know, overreaction in couples. A classic!
So this is an M-chapter. I know I'm always apologizing, but I really need to this time: writing this stuff is very, very difficult. So please, if you find it awful, tell me so I can try to write it better next time. For those of you who don't enjoy M-chapters (yeah, they exist out there), I'd say that maybe you should skip it. But not really. I do think there's a purpose in an M-chapter, so just give it a shot? :P
"So what are you going to see?"
Mr. Fields was taking his keys to drive the girls to the movie theater. It was the last day of Spencer's visit in Texas. She was leaving the day after, and Emily had planned to spend the whole afternoon out in the mall, where they'd see a movie and have some ice cream before returning to the house to help Spencer pack her things back to Rosewood.
Emily was staying in Texas for one more week after Spencer left. She was sad. But, more importantly, she was desperate to have a moment alone, even if it was inside a movie auditorium. And movie auditoriums were dark. They provided intimacy. They provided occasions to hold hands, sometimes to kiss, although Spencer didn't really like to kiss when they were watching a movie. She actually enjoyed watching movies whenever she went to see one.
"Mission Impossible", Emily answered. "I've heard it's good."
It wasn't like they were actually going to see the movie this time. That was Emily's plan: she chose a movie Spencer wouldn't really care that much about on purpose.
However, she saw Spencer's brows raise in surprise. But her father didn't give any sign that he'd also realized.
"I thought we were gonna see The Ides of March", Spencer opened her mouth and spoke her mind, while Emily looked at her blankly. "That one's supposed to be good."
Who in the world really wanted to see the last sequel of Tom Cruise flying around in impossible missions? On the other hand, The Ides of March was about politics. And Ryan Gosling was in it. And he was absolutely good-looking. As was Evan Rachel Wood (yes, she did notice that). And they were good actors too.
Emily's blank stare probably meant something, so Spencer decided to shut up.
"You haven't agreed on which movie you're gonna see?", Emily's father asked, a sweet mocking smile on his face that somehow resembled his daughter's. "Are you going to two different screenings?"
Something told Emily her father wasn't so innocent as to why she wanted to get out of the house to go see a movie on Spencer's last day in Texas. Thank god her father was on her side. But Spencer shouldn't really notice that. She didn't want her freaking out about it. She'd been ruthless. She'd been stern. She'd been perfectly composed during the last three days.
She'd been Spencer Hastings.
There had only been two kisses during those days. One had happened in the bathroom when Emily had come in to give Spencer a towel her mother had chosen for Spencer the day they arrived. She'd managed to steal that one, really quick, because Spencer urged her out of the bathroom, panicked that sharing one single moment of intimacy while at the same time undressing to get a shower meant they were really going to give in and to revel in a lot more than a kiss. The other one had happened in the garage while they waited for Emily's parents to drive together to Houston to do some sightseeing. If the first one had been quick, this one had been even quicker. But at least it'd been Spencer's initiative. They had really taken advantage of that second to actually show each other that they were more than friends. Because, by all accounts, they were behaving as if they were only friends who were travelling together to visit the parents of one of them. And that was driving Emily crazy.
Karma. Karma, indeed. Boomerangs, backfires. Hastings and Fields, Romeos and Juliets, Pennsylvania and Texas, the world and them.
She hoped Spencer never again dared to speak about self control.
Because one thing Emily could actually say for sure was that Spencer did know how to behave when she wanted. She wasn't like her. Emily tried, and basically managed to behave when the Hastings were around, but couldn't really act so infinitely controlled, and at the same time warm, and polite, and talkative, and friendly as Spencer was acting in front of her parents. She hated that. She admired that, but she hated it too. She knew Spencer was doing it precisely because she cared so much about their relationship, so she supposed she should actually be happy, but she hated it so, so much. Sometimes she felt almost confused that they were getting back to pure and sheer sexless friendship, and that she'd have to reinitiate all the movement that had gotten them to be a couple when they were back to Rosewood.
But there were these moments when they'd look at each other and they'd know, too. These moments, while they watched TV, or while they had dinner, or while they visited a town, or while they talked about Iraq or about the Obama Administration (Spencer had seemed to take a liking to her father, more than to her mother, and they sometimes engaged in deeply serious, polite discussions on international relations). These moments, when a single spark in the eye would burn their skin for a second. But you could not live only on looks once you had already kissed like crazy for two months, when you had already undressed the other person (not totally, but enough to know how they smelled and how they tasted when you touched them like that), when you had basically almost had sex on the bed, or maybe not entirely sex, but something really similar to sex, when you had almost made the other person have an orgasm. So, no, you could not really live on eyes and blazing smiles for four days after that.
And that was why they were going to see a movie. To not see it at all.
"I'm fine with The Ides of March too", Emily said, trying to close the topic. "I hope I understand it, though."
"Why wouldn't you understand it? You've read Julius Caesar too".
"But isn't it supposed to happen today? Like, in real day, in real politics?"
Why they were talking about this, Emily didn't know. She was just trying to make conversation to make sure her father actually thought they were going to see the movie. Or rather to make Spencer believe that her father actually thought so.
"Yeah. It's about a political candidate and a guy who writes his speeches", Spencer explained, a little wide-eyed because she didn't really understand why Emily was saying she wouldn't understand the movie.
Emily nodded, and her father nodded, and with that they went out of the house. Mr. Fields drove them through the base and then out of it in the mall's direction. The weather was hot and dry. It was already so hot that taking your hand out of the window might mean you would burn it red, especially if you were sort of pale as Spencer was. She had acquired a pinkish, slightly tanned colour during those days, and it went well with her graceful, decent dresses. As for Emily, she was obviously as tan as always, but her skin had also darkened a little. She was wearing a wonderful miniskirt she'd bought on their recent trip to the mall, when they'd run into Toby. She was glowing, intentionally so. She had to be as casually seductive as possible to take Spencer out of the movie and make her pay attention to her. Although she was pretty sure she was going to get her attention, because she had indeed caught a glance directed to her legs. It'd been brief, almost non-existent, but she knew what it meant, and it meant that the miniskirt was doing its job well. Thank god for miniskirts.
Spencer's legs, though, were not so explicit to her sight as they'd been during their last weeks in Rosewood. She was wearing a very nice, decent dress that showed enough of her knees but that gracefully and elegantly stopped right up there, preventing her sight, or anyone's sight for that matter, from tracing up her long, slender thighs. It was a very beautiful dress, worn by a very beautiful person, who happened to be her girlfriend, even if you couldn't really tell by their most recent behaviour.
Mr. Fields dropped them off the mall, where he decided not to park, and promised to get them back by 8.30 p.m. So they had approximately 3 and a half, maybe 4 hours. Emily felt as a human chronometer; she was used to this when she swam, but not really when she got out on a date with Spencer. Because this was a date. This was going to be a date, and Spencer was going to find out soon, if she was not really imagining it by now, which she probably was, because she was no fool at all. They walked around the mall, found the movie theater and bought the tickets for the movie. Before getting The Ides of March's ones, Emily looked at Spencer trying to get a confirmation, but Spencer seemed to be totally sure that was the one, so they bought them and then decided to wait around for the movie to start.
Spencer sent her the first see-through glance since they'd arrived to Texas. "So how are you planning to do this?"
She knew where this was headed. Her confirmation made Emily smile inside.
"I'm planning to do it the way it's done", Emily answered, feeling finally free. "You do know we're not going to see the movie, don't you?"
"I can imagine what's on your mind, yeah. It's not that difficult to see." There was a knowing, slightly twisted smile on her face that made Emily's heart flutter almost as if this was the first time they were going out like this.
"I knew you were smart enough", Emily replied. "I just don't get why you didn't want to see that Tom Cruise movie. You're not really going to see this one either."
"Because I can't say anything about that crap movie. At least I've read a couple of reviews about this one, so I'll be able to say something when your parents ask", she explained. Oh, she was always so clever. Calculating. Smart-smart. "Are we, like, gonna kiss the whole movie? Is that allowed in Texas?"
"For being such a smart-ass, you're acting pretty dumb", Emily winked, with a conspiratorial look on her face. "There's a place called restroom, you know."
"You're not seriously thinking about spending the whole movie there, right?" This time she did seem a little surprised.
"Just follow my indications and you'll be fine", Emily smirked again.
The movie theater was packed with people. Emily didn't really want to make out in front of the whole world, as dark and loud as the movie would be, but, as she'd said, there were restrooms, which would hopefully not be used during the movie because everybody would be so interested in the political speeches that they could have it all for themselves. That was the plan, at least. She wasn't so used to taking the lead. Well, she sometimes did take the lead, but Spencer was usually more aggressive when it came to finding places for making out. She guessed this was what desperation and hunger created in a person: she'd had to wise up. She hoped she was measuring up to such a task.
They got inside the theater and walked to find their seats, while Emily wisely scanned the surroundings of the auditorium to find the closest restroom. Most of the people who'd gone to see the movie were much older than them. She hoped that'd be a good thing. Probably it ruled out all the groups of male teenagers trying to make a pass on them; on the other hand, it didn't rule out nosy ladies and creepy old guys that only Aria would find interesting. In any case, they were there. First step was taken. Next step next.
They sat. They waited while they talked about meaningless things, all the while truly thinking about the moment when the lights would go out.
Emily felt nervous, somehow. Like she was on a secret mission, which she hoped wouldn't be impossible. Spencer was leaving, and that made her feel all sorts of sad and concerned; but at the same time she was excited, anxious even, about the restroom make-out adventure she'd planned. Spencer herself looked a little anxious too. Almost as if she was really waiting for her indications, which was sort of exciting too, in a way, because it didn't happen that often back in Rosewood.
The lights went out. The first images came. Music sounded.
She turned her head a little to look at Spencer, who looked back at her and felt for her hand in the dark. So she leaned in to whisper in her ear.
"Follow me in a couple of minutes, okay?"
Spencer's eyes shone bright in the dark. She looked a little lost, though, but she nodded in agreement.
Still she tugged at her shirt when Emily was already standing up. "Are you sure? Don't you prefer to kiss here? There aren't that many people", she whispered really low, making Emily bent down to hear her.
Was she scared of the restroom?
Now, that was weird.
A couple of people shushed them, and their hush was heard all over the theater more than their actual whispers. So Emily sent Spencer a commanding look and walked out of their aisle in the restroom's direction.
Was Spencer really scared of the restroom? Maybe she thought the police was going to interrupt them there and send them to jail for public scandal and inappropriate behaviour. Spencer seemed to think Texas was a sort of Afghanistan-like territory in the United States. For a girl as courageous as her, who used to make out in public restrooms with her a lot since they started dating, it seemed to be quite a strange fear. It was probably the combination of being in foreign, unknown territory with the Fields Family that scared her. Or was it something else?
Emily entered the restroom, which was deserted exactly as she'd expected. She checked the toilet cubicles, making sure no one was there, and then looked herself in the mirror. She looked really good today. The summer always had a good effect on her. And she was getting the sleep she'd missed during the last centuries of her fight against A. Speaking of whom, she hoped A had not travelled all the way to Texas to watch them make out in the restroom.
She leaned against the washstand as she waited for Spencer to appear. She was taking more than a couple of minutes, and Emily grumpily wondered if she'd actually decided to watch the movie. However, the door to the restrooms opened after ten minutes (ten!) and her head with her wavy curls was followed by the rest of her decently dressed body. She had again that slightly confused expression on her face, but her eyes shone once more when she looked at Emily.
"What took you so long?", Emily playfully scolded her.
"Sorry". She took some hesitant steps towards her. "I was just trying to make enough time."
Emily grabbed her hand and took her to one of the cubicles. She closed the door and secured it, and suddenly she felt like a real, true pervert, like one of those people who'd do anything to push it, like Ben when he had thrown her against the lockers because he was angry and desperate and couldn't really take her infinite postponement anymore.
She didn't like the idea, so she backed off a little.
Maybe Spencer just wasn't in the mood to make out today.
She'd have to respect that.
It was weird, but she'd have to respect it.
She leaned her back against the opposite wall in the cubicle, trying to impose a distance, because if they weren't really going to make out, she'd seriously have to exercise a lot of that self control that Spencer always either praised or complained about.
Spencer looked at her questioningly.
"It's okay if you don't wanna do anything", Emily whispered. "We can go watch the movie if you want."
Spencer shot her a mocking one-brow raising.
"What?" She took a couple of steps towards her until they were breath to breath. "Where are you getting this idea from? I always wanna do something."
"You seem a little out of it", Emily explained, but she felt already excited because they were so close as she'd expected to be before giving up on it.
Spencer offered a shy, coy smile. "I'm just kind of nervous", she said, putting her hands on Emily's waist. "I feel like it's been so long already."
Emily knew the feeling. She was nervous as well. Nervous and anxious and desperate. But it'd only been three days since they left Rosewood. It seemed longer because they'd been together all the time without being able to do anything to each other.
"You've really mastered the art of not kissing in Texas. You won. You're always the winner."
"I don't think this is something I wanna win", Spencer replied, and after that she leaned in and they kissed.
They kissed. First, slowly, taking all the time they hadn't taken since they arrived to Texas. Then, a little more hungrily, with passion that progressively unleashed. It'd been a while. Three days were a while. Three days were a long while when you wanted a person badly, evilly, viciously.
So they kissed, and they kissed, and their tongues played and fought and sucked against each other in a way that they already knew well because they were already doing it every time they kissed and kissed and kissed in another restroom or in another bedroom. And they touched, because they had hands too that already knew, more or less, what to do. So they touched each other's face, and they brushed each other's hair, and they wandered down each other's neck, and there were other parts too that could be reachable and that were reached by hand and by tongue.
Spencer's hand seemed to be as smart as her owner, because it did go down Emily's strapless T-shirt and pulled it up. So much for being nervous about it. She did want to make out. Badly. Really, really badly. She'd been a good girl during all these days, but now it was too easy to get there because, unlike her, Emily was wearing clothes composed of two pieces, which made every move so much easier than anything, and so she easily reached Emily's tanned, burning skin. They stopped one moment to look at each other, and Emily just took off her shirt decisively, the way she did that kind of thing when she was decisive, because what the hell? The shirt slipped to the floor and her dark skin beamed with the light the summer lent her, and their mouths met again after their eyes, while Spencer's hand trailed up and down Emily's waist and stomach until she finally reached her breasts, because what the hell? It'd been a while, and she needed it. And the feeling she always had when her fingers wandered there obscenely and squeezed while Emily's skin warmed up and expelled hot rays of energy under her touch was just too much, and she just couldn't take it, but she could. She could and she did.
Their breathing hitched, heavy and hard.
Maybe they should stop it now. This was a public restroom. The voices of the actors could be heard not so distant from where they were touching, little fragments of a drama they couldn't really catch.
Their breathing was louder in their ears anyway.
But what about the bra? Emily wanted to undress herself, wanted to undress Spencer too, but she was a little worried about the fact that this wasn't really a bedroom and someone could actually come in, and she didn't want to have all her clothes scattered around a restroom floor. But, come on, she'd started this. She had. She was dying for it. And Spencer was going to leave tomorrow. And she had this damn decent dress on, and she couldn't really reach her skin because she was covered by the dress, and she couldn't really go further than the neck and a little bit of cleavage and her arms and her armpits and…
She turned around, grabbing Spencer until she pushed her against the wall. Spencer's eyes opened in slight surprise, although she was already used to Emily's gentle ninja flipping moves when they were making out. They seemed to fight for power and dominance in a really sexy, heated way. She actually liked it a lot. It gave her the sense that nothing was expected when it came to them, as much as they knew each other already, everything was new, still, when they entered a restroom like this. So the mere push of the wall against her back aroused her, because it was a sign of Emily's aggressiveness and, basically, that was hot. It was always so hot to discover some new side to this, some new way to push and pull and get out of their clothes.
Emily's teeth bit decisively on her neck with more force than was usually needed, and Spencer cried out a little, very little because they were in a public restroom and what the hell? What if someone called the security guards, or the police? But her cry seemed to draw more of those instincts of aggression, because Emily bit again, this time her shoulder, and then sucked, softer, somehow trying to compensate for the previous excessive force.
If they continued like this, well, how could she know when they would stop it? Would Emily slow it down as she always did?
But Emily wasn't really thinking anymore. Not after hearing that soft cry. Sometimes those sounds were all she needed. They guided her in the dark. It wasn't as if she knew what she was doing. But, at the same time, she knew. She just had to hear Spencer.
It seemed like the proper moment to stop.
And Emily even grasped the idea with some clarity. It was the proper moment to stop. But she was frustrated because she couldn't get into Spencer's dress, and then again Spencer was leaving tomorrow, and what was she going to do? What were they going to do? Could she go back to only thinking and not doing? This was the one and only moment where they could actually touch in days and days and days, and it was the summer, and it was her right, and god, this dress was making her angry.
So she did something she hadn't really done before. Or not like that, in such a confident, shameless manner. She lowered her hand and reached Spencer's skin under the dress, her thighs warm, soft as she knew they'd be. And she ran her fingers up her thighs under the dress, satisfied that at least now she was allowed to touch more intimate skin. Spencer gasped for air, obviously not expecting the dangerous move of her hand.
It was a hard, exciting panting. Again.
Was she losing it? Like, really losing it?
Once more Emily thought for a very brief instant that now this was the moment to stop. The voices of the movie out there seemed to be far, but provided some kind of curtain of sound, like they were embedded inside the movie, in a private place, obscure, behind the screen, not really there. So she moved her hand up a little, delicately trailing Spencer's inner thigh, and it felt again so soft and warm, feverishly warm even, that it almost gave her a fainting feeling. She was still biting Spencer's neck while she moved, and she felt Spencer reach her earlobe and bite too, and then breathe erratically some more, in that very distinctive way that Emily already recognized as a sign of Spencer's intense response to her. And then Spencer tried to pull away a little, pushing back to inhale the air she was lacking in her lungs.
Again they looked at each other in the already misted eye.
"What are you doing?", Spencer managed to say with the most guttural sound she'd ever uttered. "We can't here."
And, yes, it was the moment to stop. Definitely.
But they didn't stop.
Emily did hesitate during a moment, the precise moment it took for Spencer to actually open her mouth and kiss her with all the energy she'd ever managed to prove herself to have. Emily received the eager kiss with surprise, because hadn't she just said they had to stop it now? Maybe she'd heard wrong. Maybe Spencer didn't really want to stop either. Possibly. Yes, possibly there was no way to stop it anymore.
Her fingers trailed up the path until they reached their aim. Panties. A whole new universe.
It was a well-known universe, in theory. But in practice it was as new as walking on the moon. Spencer's underwear. Under the dress. Emily's hand under the dress. So many factors that it was crazy to try and solve the equation. But Emily wasn't going crazy; she felt unusually calmed, determined, and at the same time she felt like she was going to fall and blackout with the surprise and the excitement this caused on her own body.
She did what she had to do.
Not that she knew for sure what had to be done, but she did it anyway under the sole guidance of Spencer's body, of Spencer's feel of cotton and hardly masked skin between her thighs, under the fabric of that one last piece of clothing, of Spencer's breath and sound.
And it did happen.
And when it happened, there was another moment of vision and lucidity that told Emily that she had to watch Spencer's face, that it was an obligation; maybe not an obligation, but a force, a violent, absolute, radical force inside her. The look on her face amazed her. She looked so concentrated, so focused with her delicately furrowed brow, but it was a different expression than the one she got when she was discussing or addressing some important point. She looked surprised, stunned even as she struggled and fought to return her gaze while her whole body trembled against Emily's touch.
It was the most beautiful expression in the world.
There was a moan, choked, barely silenced, because she was trying so hard not to make a sound.
And it was happening.
It happened.
Emily supported Spencer's body while she opened her eyes and slowly tried to recover her breathing, still clinging to Emily's waist, digging her nails in her skin, startled and weak in the legs.
"Are you crazy?" She'd spoken too early because her voice quivered weirdly. "Are you totally crazy?"
Emily felt suddenly terrified of what she'd done.
"Yes", she said. She was totally crazy. This was a public restroom and there were people watching a movie next to them. "I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" Spencer looked at her still completely surprised. "You don't get to be sorry about this. Holy crap."
Instead of killing Emily, she pulled her closer in a sudden attack, because she'd already recovered some of her forces, and kissed her again. Emily kissed her back slowly, breathy, hotly.
For god's sake, they were in a restroom.
"How did you even do this?", she asked once they separated again. "I told you to stop."
"I… You told me to stop and then you kissed me like there was no tomorrow." Emily tried to explain why it'd happened. "And I just lost it."
"No, I lost it", Spencer replied. She seemed to think for a moment. Then she pushed Emily back against the opposite wall, and she surprised herself at how easy it was to recover her energy even though her legs were still shaking.
Emily's breathing was still warm and heavy when she kissed her against the wall.
Now she had the power. Part of it, at least.
So she started to pull Emily's skirt up to get back at her, but Emily's hand quickly moved to stop her.
"No, we can't."
"We can't? We just did."
"We're in a restroom. There's no time. The movie's ending."
They were whispering now really low, suddenly aware of their big, impressive secret.
Spencer's hand stopped trying to move up Emily's skirt.
"You could've thought about that when you decided to put your hand on my panties", she accused. "Now you just don't get to choose."
Emily returned her accusing glance somewhat apologetically, but there was a trace of naughtiness in there too. "I know. I got carried away", she said. "Was it that bad?"
Still she got a hold of Spencer's hand so she wouldn't keep pushing up her skirt.
"It is bad if you don't let me do the same", Spencer complained. "It's not fair."
"I'll let you do it, just not here."
"And then where? Back in your parents' house?" The mere thought of returning to the Fields' like this made her shiver, this time of terror and embarrassment. "I probably look like a total slut, Emily. And it's your fault. We're in a restroom!"
"I know. I am sorry." The truth was that she wasn't that sorry. She felt a little ashamed, but not really sorry. "You don't look like a slut. You look beautiful."
She did look sweaty and totally hot, pink stains all over her neck and her face and even in her arms.
"I hate you", Spencer said, wrapping her arms around Emily's waist, giving up on the temptation to touch her under her skirt too. "I hate you. You should know that."
"You don't", Emily replied, kissing her forehead.
"We need to do this horizontal, Emily", Spencer pulled back a little to look at Emily again. "It's not fair. You owe me one."
"Okay, I owe you one. We'll do it back home, when you're able to get a bedroom for enough time."
"There is enough time if you don't panic every time you hear a car", Spencer answered. "Or every time your mom or Hanna's are calling you on the phone."
Maybe Spencer did have a point. She did want to repeat the same thing on a horizontal position and getting to actually see a lot more of what she'd seen this time.
"You're right", she conceded, and again Spencer looked surprised that she was agreeing so fast.
"I hate you", Spencer repeated, this time softly. She didn't hate her. "Why do you get to do this and I don't?"
"Well, you got to do something, right?", Emily asked, her naughtiness hardly concealed.
Spencer's face turned a lot pinker than it already was at the comment, so she hid her face in the crook of Emily's neck.
"I want you to feel the same", she slowly said. "Why am I always the one who loses it?"
Emily embraced her. "It's not always, it's the first time." It had, indeed, been the first time. The real one. "It's just that you're easy for me."
The truth was that she could lose it too. If Spencer did the same to her, she'd lose it too. She knew. She knew what she was feeling under her skirt.
But it was also true that she was maybe slower in reacting. And that she was perhaps extremely obsessed about what she wanted to do to Spencer and how she wanted to do it.
And that Spencer actually let her do it.
She really was a pervert. Well, maybe not a pervert, but a dirty person with a dirty mind. A dirty person who did dirty things in public restrooms. In Texas.
"Are you actually saying that I'm easy?" Spencer pulled away enough to look at her and gave her an offended look.
"Not in a bad way. In a good way."
"Is there a good way to be called easy?"
"Yes. This one", Emily said. "I just know. I know your tricks."
She sounded extremely confident, although she didn't always know what she was doing. Well, most of the time she didn't really know. Not in a theoretical way. But she had a gut instinct, and she followed it, and apparently it didn't work that bad.
They stared at each other, Spencer's pink colours slowly retreating from her face and her neck and her arms.
"So I actually have to play difficult to learn your tricks?", Spencer asked, and even though she tried to sound annoyed her voice had a clear playful, pleasant touch to it. "Is that what you're saying?"
"No, not exactly", Emily replied, feeling excited again about that playful tone. She shouldn't forget they were still in the restroom, and the movie was probably going to end soon. "Anyway I don't think you can actually play difficult", she teased, even though she knew she shouldn't.
Spencer gave her a crooked smile, reciprocating the tease.
"You don't want me to enter a competition here, Em. You know I can easily win."
"I'm not so sure about that one", she bluffed, although she did hope Spencer wouldn't actually play difficult for her. "Did you ever get to read those books?"
"What books?"
"The ones on girl-to-girl sexual intercourse."
Spencer shrugged her shoulders, as if she didn't really care anymore.
"Yeah", she said. She'd read a couple of articles. They weren't very enlightening; because one thing she was discovering now was that there was an enormous difference between doing these things and reading about them. Suddenly she felt confused again. And she'd been called easy. She couldn't forget about that one. "This is sex already, right? I mean, it has to be sex. It feels like sex."
Emily gave her a quizzical look. She wasn't so sure anymore. They weren't naked and they weren't horizontal and it hadn't really been that dirty, but maybe it was sex after all.
"We don't know what sex feels like. Maybe this is sex. Or maybe sex is better", she ventured.
"Better? Okay, maybe it is better. I hope it is, actually." Spencer was already using her brain to think about the problem. "Not that it wasn't good", she said when she saw Emily's confused expression. "But, you know, it's a restroom. I don't wanna say my first sexual experience was in a restroom."
"We won't call it sex then. We'll call it making out."
"This is definitely not making out, Em."
Making out didn't make your legs shake and all your muscles tremble ten minutes after having your girlfriend's hand in your panties while you were in a restroom. Making out made you feel horny, and made you want for more, and it did give you a tinge of it, but it didn't create some sort of inner explosion of nerves and feelings where you thought your body might skyrocket into space if you pushed it just a little bit further.
"Then we won't call it anything. It won't have a name", Emily teased. "It'll be The Texas Restroom Experience."
Oh, she was getting so funny.
Spencer wanted to strangle her, but at the same time she felt like kissing her nose, so she did.
"You like restrooms too much." She observed Emily's slow darker blush coming to her cheeks, so she decided to continue the tease. Apparently she'd found a weakness. "Are we gonna be the typical couple who gets a kick out of public places?"
The darkening blush increased.
"I hope not", Emily responded. She believed the only reason for what had happened was the fact that they desperately needed a place to be alone. She actually found the restroom uncomfortable. But she felt a little ashamed of herself. "Let's just use a bed next time, okay?"
"I'll try", Spencer agreed. "And please remember you owe me one. You're not getting away next time."
"You make it sound as if I actually wanted to get away."
"Well, fact is I've never gotten down there", Spencer asserted looking down at the miniskirt, and Emily blushed again, this time intensely, at the comment. "Are you gonna let me or not?"
"I'll think about it", Emily tried to smirk, although she suddenly felt a little nervous about the whole idea. But Spencer looked at her with the kind of expression that meant that she wasn't going to take no for an answer, and it wasn't as if she was actually ever going to say no to that. She just felt suddenly shy. "Don't look at me like that. Of course it's gonna happen."
"I have no doubt."
"Just not here."
"Right. Not here, where you just decided to do it to me."
"Exactly."
This time she did smirk. Because she was the greatest girlfriend ever. And she was certain they would find a bed and time in Rosewood and that she would put her phone on mute mode and wouldn't care if the Hastings were supposed to arrive at some point.
They kissed. Again. And Emily felt hot. Again.
Maybe she did get a kick out of public restrooms after all.
But it was really time to let go. The movie was going to end, and Spencer did look still all flustered and sweaty and really, really sexy in a very literal way. So they decided Spencer would get out first to freshen herself up and go back to her seat (to watch the end of the movie), while Emily would wait a little. Yeah, she hoped people were stupid enough to not realize they'd been out of it for the entire time.
That was what they did. It wasn't such a bad plan after all.
While Emily was walking back to her own seat next to Spencer in the theater, she wasn't really ashamed of the whole thing anymore. The Texas Restroom Experience would stay in her mind forever. There was no way she could actually forget about it. And as much as she'd hated the decent, nice summer dress Spencer had decided to wear today, she was already kind of fond of it too. She was suddenly so thankful for decent dresses, for movie theaters, even for long political speeches that she wouldn't get to understand at all.