Emily was sitting on a stool Spencer had brought to the bathroom from the kitchen downstairs, waiting for her to come back and clean her wounds. Spencer had insisted on doing that first of all. Then they'd hold a meeting to talk about the phone. Or rather to convince Hanna about calling Caleb to sort the phone situation out, because none of them was a hacker and the phone had turned off after falling and getting cracked during the fight.
The car ride to the Hastings' had been blue and silent too.
They'd agreed to come here once again because, ever since the school year started, Spencer's parents weren't home that often anymore, which was ironic in a sense, almost as if the summer ending automatically meant parents had a good excuse to disappear from their daughter's life again; whatever the case, the Hastings mansion was usually, anyway, their favorite place to call their secret meetings from the times they weren't even secret, just normal teenage fun. So the Hastings' was the natural destination; nobody raised their voice in dispute. But, since each and everyone had taken their own car to the greenhouse, they had all gone separate ways too. All except Emily, who had been basically forced to leave the car there under the promise that tomorrow she could come pick it up. She didn't really like the idea of abandoning her car in a deserted road but she had complied, retrieving her purse and obediently hopping up into Spencer's big SUV, knowing what was now expected of her: an explanation, for once; possibly more than that. But, to her surprise, Spencer had kept strangely quiet also during the ride to her house. It wasn't the good kind of quiet, though, and Emily knew. It was the pissed-off, fright-inducing, hair-on-the-back-of-neck-standing-on-end kind of quiet, and Emily had expected at least a steely look and maybe a couple of sharp comments or even perhaps a direct question before the explanation began; Spencer was never the kind to be subtle or self-controlled about the way she felt when she was mad, hurt or scared. Therefore, the lack of any cue such as those had made Emily feel wordless and beyond exhausted, like she didn't know what to say or where to start. Like she had to make a bigger effort just to start reading the situation, which was so hard right now that she was feeling simultaneously excited beyond belief and tired to an extreme, tired as she'd never felt before; completely worn out in a way, but so alive and rushed and somehow incapable of resting herself down. However, no words were coming to her throat that would put everything in a calm, analytical order, which would be the only thing she figured Spencer would appreciate from her now; because where should she start? Had Spencer received any texts from A? Should she start from there, asking about it, or would Spencer take that the wrong way? Perhaps she should just come clean from the beginning, sort of confession-like. Maybe Spencer would let her talk. Maybe her silence meant she was actually expecting her to confess what had happened and why. But that also implied that Emily had to put everything in a calm, analytical order for Spencer to understand; and it was so hard to do that, it was so hard to get the right words out so everything would be clearly understood. Spencer knew how to do it better than her. Spencer was good with words and definitions and meanings and she knew how to argue in her best interest and to make her points clear and sort of self-evident. But self-evidence was far from Emily's reachable goals. It was difficult to explain the facts, let alone the feelings and thoughts that had driven her to the club and then to that forest knowing that she might end up dead.
Yes, she should probably start from the beginning. But where was the beginning? Was it in A's texts or in how she felt about them? Or was it somewhere else?
Had Spencer received the picture of her talking to the girl?
If she knew Spencer well enough, the answer was no. Spencer was a fighter and a well-worded one. If she knew, words would be already flying around between them. But there were no words now.
Only this silence, this blue and cold silence was happening now.
She heard the girls in a vague distance, Hanna's sweet voice suddenly stronger, making it up through the walls and the stairs, but she couldn't make out the words from her stance in the shiny marbled room. Maybe if she got up and opened the door… but she was too tired now, and she had to think about Spencer. During the car ride, Spencer had kept glancing at her dress with a somewhat blank expression, studying Emily like Emily tried to study her. They were studying each other. Spencer had always sort of done that, but Emily wasn't used to studying Spencer and she didn't really like the feeling, because she used to get Spencer instantly; even without words she'd know how she felt. It was so easy.
It used to be so easy.
There had to be a reason why it wasn't being easy right now.
She had to come clean. That was the reason.
Emily was thinking about this when Spencer came back with a cloth and tissue and band-aids and scissors and antiseptic and ordered her to get undressed so she could clean her up and inspect all of the bruises. Emily complied once again. She slipped her ripped stockings down and unzipped her dress, feeling Spencer's clinical eyes on her while she did the operation. She remembered she'd been ordered to do it before Spencer left, but she'd been lost in thought and had forgotten. Once she was in her underwear she just sat on the stool again and waited for Spencer's next command. But Spencer just stood in front of her, leaning against the washstand and observing every inch of her body without a word until she turned the faucet on, letting the water run cold before she slightly applied soap and wetted the cloth.
Deep in hesitation for a moment, Spencer contemplated the body in front of her, now mapped and drawn by cuts and scratches and incipient bruises, before finally deciding on the blood on Emily's head, right above the right brow.
She softly ran the cloth to get rid of the blood and the dirt.
It was a really small cut, so she didn't even need to consider covering it. It was the easy one, and after cleaning Emily's whole face (for which she had to apply her cleansing cream too, especially around the eyes to eliminate the mascara) she decided to go for the hand, which seemed to be in a worse condition.
"Where's the phone?"
Emily asked the question after some minutes of silent collaboration, her hand resting on her thigh while Spencer prepared the antiseptic.
It was a stupid question, those were stupid words.
It was obvious Hanna and Aria had the phone downstairs. But still – where to start?
Spencer didn't meet her eyes to elaborate an answer.
"Kitchen."
Her voice had that dry, metallic sound it always acquired when she was either too tired or trying to contain her emotions because she was feeling too many of them at once.
"Is Caleb coming?", Emily added, feeling so foolish again.
"Hanna's putting up a fight about Caleb. She says it's too dangerous for him."
"I'll talk to her."
Spencer seemed to give the words a second of her time for consideration, but still didn't look directly at Emily's eyes.
"She's mad at you, so she won't listen to you now."
That was all she said, and she said it matter-of-factly. Then she gently grabbed Emily's hand and applied the antiseptic with the great concentration and seriousness she showed in every task she ever focused on.
Emily was opening her mouth to say something foolish when Spencer decided to add a word.
"She probably won't listen to you ever again."
A tinge of emotion came through the words, but Emily didn't take the bitterness badly because it was a good sign. Because Hanna would indeed listen to her again. Because Spencer was talking about herself, not about Hanna.
The wall was falling down.
"But she'll listen to you", Emily cautiously replied, still pretending to talk about Hanna and the phone. "She always puts up a fight but then she does what you say every time."
They all did.
Spencer finished with the antiseptic and took a bandage out of a package, but kept staring at it, wondering if it was better to cover the cut or to leave it to heal in the open. She'd always heard the latter was better, but Emily needed her hand to do stuff, which meant she would use it and the wound would get dirty again and maybe that would delay the healing; it could even get infected. At least it was clear she didn't need stitches. Emily had refused to go to the hospital, but the cut in her thigh was probably the worst of them and she might need stitches there after all. In any case, Spencer would only find out when she managed to get there, but first she was going to clear out the hand.
"She doesn't like it when I boss her around", she finally answered. Hanna had already snapped at her when she was trying to direct her to call Caleb in order to get things moving already. "Besides, it's her boyfriend we're talking about. It makes sense she doesn't want him involved."
Boyfriends, girlfriends were always in danger when it came to A's games.
"And Aria?"
"Aria's trying right now."
Good. Aria would do it. Aria was efficient at talking sense into people.
"I still have Caleb's number."
She had it from that time she hired him to track Maya's phone in Juvie Camp.
Spencer hummed absentmindedly, but it was all for show because then she shot a purely cutting look, the first direct glance Emily had received since she was found in the forest.
"I have it too. From that other time you decided to disappear, remember?"
It did sound like a slap, as it was intended.
The talk was commencing, then. The wall was falling down.
Spencer was ready.
Emily sighed in response to the words and tried to search for Spencer's eyes, but Spencer had finally decided on the bandage and was concentrated on cutting the right length of it.
"Spencer", Emily called, her voice firm, "talk to me. You can get mad."
"Trust me, that's not the problem. I know I can get mad."
"Then what is it? Why don't you just say something or yell at me?"
A sharp, dark glance followed.
"Is that really gonna help?"
"Help with what?"
"With you."
Spencer spoke flatly again, like it wasn't really that important, but a chill went down Emily's spine upon hearing the comment. With you.
But the problem was A, not her.
"I owe you an explanation, I know that."
But then she should somehow begin with it.
"You owe me more than that."
Again, it sounded flat. But, at the same time, it sounded scary.
Spencer cut the bandage and started folding it over Emily's hand. Carefully, lovingly even, she grabbed the tape with her free hand and put it between her teeth, cutting it too so it would hold the bandage together.
Emily thought of the next words she should say, but instead of saying anything she just stared at Spencer's concentrated expression, the frown where her neat brown brows tried to meet, her lids half covering her eyes, helping to shut the emotions down or at least to keep them from Emily's wise intuition and acute sight, the unconscious biting of her lip while her hands worked on a designed purpose and plan. That was Spencer. She ran business in town. She liked to hold everything together. She put up a front. But she wasn't so good at it, especially not with Emily; she was way too intense for that, even if she often didn't realize. She was far too involved. Emily knew that expression so well. She knew everything about Spencer so well. And still – it wasn't easy to say the words, all the words she needed to say to her.
"An apology", Emily finally reacted, her eyes suddenly filling with tears. "I owe you one too."
Spencer didn't look at her to confirm or deny the statement, though.
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
Now Spencer did look down at her and her eyes seemed tired, but they'd gained the fierce intensity Emily instantly recognized as the sign of the deep emotion she was trying to hide with her flat voice and her methodical demeanor. It was the kind of intensity that burned your skin when it meant a good thing; but it scared the shit out of you when it meant a bad one. Just like her sharpened words. People ran away from that stare and those words. People ran away from the consequences of that stare and those words, because they knew Spencer was determined and would get it her way, not theirs. And she had everything in her favor. The attitude, the means, the brain, the name. So people ran away or just took it. At least they did at school. They did in the field. They would eventually do it too (run away or just take it) when she got to college, and it would happen later as well, in court or somewhere else, no matter what she decided to do for a life. That was how it worked. And it worked fine.
But not with Emily.
As much as Emily thought Spencer could get scary, or rather bitchy, she knew her too well to really get scared of her.
"I don't know what I mean."
It sounded sincere.
Maybe she wasn't ready to talk yet. But she had to. Emily knew they had to talk. Or rather Spencer had to listen to what Emily had to say, if she ever found the words.
Spencer moved away again, turning her back on Emily in order to wet the cloth once more, preparing for the complex operation of cleaning the cut on the thigh. Maybe she should just put Emily in the shower to clean the cut properly. The hand had been easier because the washstand was right there, but the thigh needed a complete rinsing and the cloth would certainly not be enough if she wanted to do it well. Besides, there were other cuts and bruises all along Emily's legs that needed to be cleaned too, at least superficially.
"You should get in the shower so I can clean this one."
She reached for the shower head, stretching to put it down. Then she ran water, pouring it down on her own hand to feel the right temperature before Emily got in the tub.
"Can we talk before that?"
She looked back at Emily again, her gaze progressively darker as the conversation barely advanced. She was losing the stiffness she had imposed on herself to get the clean-up operation done, despite all her attempts at maintaining a cold, efficient composure.
"I want to finish this before we talk", she resisted, "and then we need to call Caleb."
Efficiency was something Spencer liked to hold on to when she was feeling weak and helpless. Cleaning and dressing Emily's wounds was efficient. Calling Caleb was efficient. Sorting the phone situation out with Caleb was efficient too.
Maybe she felt talking was not.
"We have to talk first", Emily pushed farther. Her eyes filled with tears again but she blinked them away. She had to be efficient too. It wasn't the moment to hesitate and break down. "I know you're mad."
Spencer didn't deny it. She just blinked too, but her eyes were not watery or glazed.
A silence followed and Emily wondered where to start. It was up to her to talk.
It was taking so long to find the right words, though.
"Did you get any texts from A today?"
So this was not exactly the beginning. It was more like the middle of the whole thing. But she needed to know exactly what information Spencer had about what had happened. It'd be easier this way.
Spencer sat on the border of the tub, her long legs stretched under the stool where Emily was sitting. She looked resigned to have the conversation now that there was a direct, concrete question.
"One", she answered straightforwardly, "while I was driving to the greenhouse."
She looked down at her hands, then dried the one that'd been under the water with a towel, as if to keep doing things.
"What did it say?"
"Just that I had to say bye to my best friend… sort of like the one I got when you were pretending to date Toby a million years ago. You know, the night at the homecoming dance when you fell."
Emily nodded, remembering the night. It had really happened a million years ago, back when she was "straight" and Spencer was convinced Toby was A and had killed Alison. It was funny, but not really. It wasn't.
Spencer shrugged her shoulders before locking eyes with Emily again, a shock of wordless communication erupting, bolting through between both of them.
"Then it changed it to girlfriend, like it's a funny joke", Spencer continued. "I guess it is, in a way, at least for A."
She smiled faintly, but it wasn't a true smile, and Emily felt inexplicably angry.
But not at Spencer.
It was the kind of anger she'd felt tonight when she ran.
So many nights had passed when they thought they had to say goodbye to one of them.
"It's not funny", Emily replied. That was probably why A had taken a picture of her in the greenhouse, so he or she could send it to Spencer and terrify her even more. "Did you get any other texts?"
A shadow of concern covered Spencer's already grim features.
"Was I supposed to get another one?"
Time to come clean.
So much to say. So many things.
This was just one of them, but it was better to get it out of the way already.
"Yeah, probably."
Spencer's skin grew somewhat paler.
"What did you do?"
Emily's heart raced in her chest although she knew it was okay.
It was okay.
All of a sudden there was no air in the room, but it was okay.
"Nothing", she tried to sound reassuring but her voice came out a little anxious and shaky, the voice of a person who lied. But she wasn't lying. "I just… It wasn't bad. It's not what you're thinking."
But Spencer hadn't yet said anything. She was just extremely pale right now.
"A made me go to a club and I had to ask for a phone number", Emily said in a rush to get it over with as soon as possible. "That was all. I got it and I ran as far away and as fast as I could, just right after I got it…"
"Is that why you were wearing that dress? Because you were sent to a club?"
Oh, the dress.
The dress Spencer had already checked and recorded in her mind but not asked about.
Emily nodded, confirming the clue Spencer had collected.
"And A was gonna send me a picture?"
How to explain it?
"I was…", Emily stuttered over her words and the timeline of events and her thoughts, but struggled to order them in her head, to give them a calm, analytical air, "I was waiting in the car for the next instruction, cause I wanted to get the HGH report and I thought I had a chance to get it if I did what A said." Now she was mixing the beginning with the middle and the end. Order and self-evidence were clearly not her stronger assets, and the words had an edgy, confused air rather than a calm, analytical one. "I mean, as long as it wasn't really bad", she clarified. "But I was waiting there and I wanted to tell you myself, because I was gonna tell you later, I swear, but I just…"
Order, Emily. Not chaos.
She tried to continue, even though Spencer was growing even paler while she stared at her.
"So I got a text with a picture of me with the girl", Emily went on, "while I was in the car, and A was threatening to send it to you so I just didn't know if you'd gotten it or not."
She ran out of more chaotic words.
"I didn't get it."
"Yeah", Emily offered a little, nervous smile, "I see. I guess A was gonna send it later, but I still wanted to tell you first."
Spencer both nodded and shook her head.
"It was a girl."
"It was a girl's number, obviously", Emily confirmed, like it was really the most obvious thing. "I mean, it's A."
Spencer had listened to the whole explanation without blinking, which meant she had to finally blink at some point. So she blinked now. She seemed sort of… fine about it.
But she was still very pale.
"Can I see the picture?"
"Sure."
Emily reached out for her phone on one of the bathroom counters. She opened the attachment and showed it to Spencer, who went from pale to red in a matter of seconds.
"Did A choose the girl?"
"No."
Was that important?
"So you chose the girl."
"I didn't choose her, she was just there."
"She's pretty", Spencer blurted, still closely studying the picture. "She's… You're standing kind of close."
Close?
Why was it that they always had to study the pictures A sent as if they were going to find something terribly important, something secret about the other person when they already knew the other person so well? But maybe that was the reason. Maybe they expected to recognize what they already saw in each other and knew about each other every day, all those little things they saw and knew that they wanted to keep secret between them because they couldn't be shared, because they were theirs and no one else's and no one else could see them or know them…
Emily had studied a picture like that.
"I was… I think I was leaving and she just gave me her number and I was just saying goodbye."
Spencer stopped looking at the picture and stared back at her, red coloring her face in diverse shades and forms.
"What's her name?"
"Does that matter?"
"Maybe", she said hesitantly. "And that was it?", she asked now, and it sounded a little too sharp, like the name was important or like she didn't believe the explanation. "I guess you had to ask her name so you could ask for her number. Or did she just give it to you without talking to her? Just like that."
She snapped her fingers to indicate she was serious about the just like that comment, but Emily took the opportunity to try cutting in.
"No, of course not."
Of course not what? Emily didn't even know what she'd answered exactly.
Spencer's dark eyes flickered between the picture and Emily's face.
"It does look like you were talking to her…" She seemed to take a moment to think about it. "But it wouldn't really surprise me, I mean, if she gave you her number without even talking to you, cause, really, who wouldn't?"
She shrugged, and opened her mouth to continue her monologue without letting Emily cut in again.
"You look great", she congratulated, but her tone wasn't cheerful. She looked down at the picture one last time. "Almost like you're a supermodel who just came out of the cover of Vanity Fair. Or Sports Illustrated. I mean, if it were me I'd give you my number without you asking, that's for sure. Anyway you already have it."
She handed the phone back to Emily, who looked completely puzzled now.
"The models in Sports Illustrated are always in a bikini, I think", Emily corrected, "or in a swimsuit."
Why did she just say that? Why did she just say that?
The name wasn't important. The models of Sports Illustrated weren't important either. Spencer was just kind of freaking out about the fact that everything seemed to indicate she'd had to talk, thus flirt with the girl in order to get the number. But it was okay, it was natural. Of course the girl wouldn't give her the number without talking. And Spencer wouldn't either.
It was okay.
She'd be having the same reaction if she found out about… someone else. Wren. Yes, Wren. Wren was the main reason she would not go to the hospital to get stitches.
"Well, that's good for you too", Spencer agreed with her stupid comment about Sports Illustrated. "Maybe you should've gone there in a bikini. Then you could've taken lots of numbers, not just one. Or maybe... I don't know."
She shook her head almost as if she found it funny.
"It was just a number", Emily tried to redirect the conversation topic. "I didn't… It wasn't what you think."
"And what do I think?", Spencer snapped. "Tell me."
All red colors gone, her skin was pale again, contrasting with the flicking lights that glimmered in her eyes right now.
Her eyes were always so expressive, so daring and true.
"I don't know. That it was worse, that I did it to hurt you, but I didn't."
That I did it to break your heart.
But I didn't.
I wouldn't.
"I know you didn't do it to hurt me", Spencer admitted without softening up. "You did it because A told you to do it, right?"
Emily tried to even out her breathing, because there was a distinctive lack of air in the room.
"It was just a number, Spencer, it was just a phone number", she repeated foolishly, struggling to complete the sentence, "so I figured it wouldn't be so bad."
And it wasn't so bad.
It was just a freaking number, for god's sake.
"It's not bad", Spencer agreed again. Her words seemed to dismiss it but she looked like the attack was coming. It was strange. "You almost got killed too and that's worse, I have to agree with you. And with Hanna."
Her raspy voice cracked like a nutshell of emotion, as much as she was trying to be bitter and sarcastic and to bring Hanna up to give the words the bitter and sarcastic turn they deserved to have, because she did agree with Hanna on this one even though Hanna didn't know the whole truth, but she did know the truth and still Hanna was right. Getting killed was worse than flirting with a girl in a bar.
So she had to pause and breathe.
"Yeah", Emily accepted, because she knew it too and she agreed.
Spencer didn't seem to care about Emily's acceptance.
"What about the next time?", Spencer both asked and accused. She was asking because she wanted to know, but it had the tone of an accusation. "Is it… is this how it's always gonna be, Emily? Like this?"
Composure had returned to her features, but the intensity remained.
"Like what?"
Words that were questions.
Stupid questions. She already guessed what Spencer meant. But there were so many things to say it was almost impossible to cover them in a sentence.
"Like this. Like you did tonight and like you did that night in the summer", Spencer explained, linking this night tonight with that summer night, because they were actually linked, also for Emily and also for A. For the three of them. "Like you just don't tell anyone about what's going on and you do exactly like you said you wouldn't do", she recited the list of affronts before mentioning the last one, "and you lie to me."
Emily swallowed. She had lied to her, that was true. She had sent her that text.
Find the right words.
"It's not like that." Couldn't words get out the right way so she could make everything clear? But perhaps she couldn't because nothing was actually clear. "It didn't happen like that."
Spencer shot her a disbelieving look, but didn't respond.
The water was still running in the tub, filling the room with a tickling rumor now that the walls between them had built up again.
Words building walls.
She really was doing a crappy job of explaining herself.
"Come to the shower", Spencer said now in a commanding tone, "we need to cure that one."
Emily did want to keep talking but it was her body who replied by accepting the order and moving. She stood up and approached the bathtub, then bent up one knee and the other knee to get inside.
Spencer moved the shower head to her injured thigh and started rinsing it with abundant water.
It stung hard and Emily gasped.
"Is it too hot?"
"No", Emily denied, "it's just… it hurts a little."
Her body started shaking, but she didn't know if it was because the water was cold or because the wound hurt or because of the conversation they had been having. Or maybe it was because she had thought she was actually going to die a couple of hours ago.
Perhaps it was all of it.
All she could see from her position was Spencer's waves of long brown hair, which she had put up in a messy ponytail. That way Emily could see the tendons and bluish veins in her neck, because Spencer was looking down at her legs, trying to get them completely clean. The cut was deeper than the other ones, and there were bruises along the length of her legs. There were some bruises on her stomach too, but at least those didn't need to be cleaned.
Spencer inspected Emily's skin closely, carefully touching the bruises and scratches around without causing more damage with her fingers.
"If this doesn't work out", Spencer said, returning to her flat voice before dressing the cut, "you'll have to go to the hospital tomorrow to get it done."
She started cutting the bandage, unsure if it was really going to be fine.
Open wounds and cuts.
Emily couldn't care less about them right now. Or even about the hospital and Wren. She just wanted Spencer to look up at her. She wanted it so badly it made her body shake.
"I'm sorry", Emily said, almost choking on it because she really thought the explanation was more important than the apology, or was a essential part of it, but she needed to say it anyway. "I'm really sorry."
Spencer looked up at her now.
"You're the one who says people shouldn't say they're sorry if they don't feel it."
Words could be used like Spencer used them, to illuminate, to remember or to attack.
The walking dictionary.
But words were also boomerangs, right?
It kept happening to Emily. Words kept returning to get back at her.
She rolled her eyes.
"But I feel it", she protested, rebelling against Spencer's harshness. "I know you don't want an apology and that's fine cause it doesn't really cover it, but I swear I wasn't trying to do anything bad."
Spencer seemed to debate over the answer.
"You're shaking", she stated, almost surprised. "Stop shaking, Em."
Like a command could make it happen.
That was Spencer too.
"I'm fine. I'm just cold."
"Just hold on a sec."
Looking around in search of something, Spencer grabbed the towel and started drying the cut so very slowly and caringly.
"I'm almost done."
She held Emily's leg with her other hand, like that could help Emily stop feeling cold. And it would help her in another situation, because they were touching and her body was trembling because it felt cold in a completely different way. Because some things were just so difficult to say, even to mentally grasp before being able to say them.
So, in a sense, Spencer's touch was helping. But, in another sense, it wasn't. Because Emily knew she still had to say the right thing.
Come clean.
Finally Spencer put the bandage over Emily's thigh and taped it too.
Covering Emily's shoulders with the towel, she rubbed her skin to warm her up and then helped her out of the tub.
She headed out of the bathroom now.
"Where are you going?"
"To get you some clothes", Spencer turned. "You can't go around in that dress."
In that supermodel dress. She didn't say it but it sounded like that.
Then she left.
Wrapped in the towel, Emily sat on the stool and waited. She waited in cold and in anger at herself and at her lack of proper words until Spencer returned and gave her sweatpants, a red tank top and a sporty sweater. She started with the top, she was feeling so cold and shaky still. Then she put on the pants and the sweater. Spencer kept busying herself with the medicines she'd brought upstairs, closing bottles, throwing away tissue, but then she approached the door again and Emily grabbed her by the wrist. She couldn't let Spencer go. She wasn't so sure about that kind of physical touch right now, because she hated to be grabbed and touched when she was really mad, but Spencer couldn't leave yet.
The right word.
"Stay."
It was what came out and Spencer sighed.
"We have no time for this."
That hurt more than the sting in her wound and her face clearly showed the pain the aggression had caused.
She let go of Spencer's wrist, but Spencer stayed.
"I didn't mean it like that", she clarified after looking at Emily's face, "I meant Caleb."
"Caleb can wait five more minutes."
"We need to get Hanna to call him."
"Well, Hanna can wait too, Spencer."
"I thought we were supposed to get happy about the phone."
Spencer was so good at that. She couldn't really help it when she was feeling hurt.
Walls falling down, all their walls were falling down.
Was it good or bad?
"You can't deny you're excited about it", Emily counter-attacked, "as much as you don't want me to see it."
"Right", Spencer feigned agreement, but then decided to tell the truth, "I'm with Hanna here."
And it was a repetition of what she had said earlier.
"Meaning", Emily demanded.
"Meaning your death is too high a cost for the phone."
"I'm not dead."
"You could be."
Yes, she could be. At least she thought she was going to be.
They stared at each other, another shock of wordless communication breaking through the walls, cracking holes in it, allowing for the light to pass. Even at their worst, they could still understand each other.
Even at their worst.
"Do you think it's easy to be the one who's been getting every freaking text from A in the last months?", Emily decided to ask now.
So maybe self-pity wasn't healthy but it was a part of the explanation.
"No", Spencer admitted, "but we had a plan."
"Or to be targeted as the person who's easiest to crack to get to the others?"
Because that was happening to her, and neither Hanna nor Spencer could deny it.
"May I remind you I was the one wearing the orange suit during the summer? Or have you forgotten about it?"
Of course Emily hadn't forgotten about it and she felt almost insulted by the question, because how could she ever forget?
"Because I couldn't save your ass!"
Her teeth gritted in anger.
"It wasn't about saving my ass, Emily!", Spencer yelled now, letting all of her anger out too. "It was about not playing A's game. It's always about that."
"How about stepping into my shoes for a single second, Spence?"
"Don't you think I already do that?"
"Well, if you do", Emily insisted, knowing Spencer was actually trying because she was still here, in the room, and because it was Spencer and Spencer always would try, "can you at least listen to me the way I've listened to you every time you needed it?"
The words were right this time. Maybe not entirely right, because they didn't help her come clean, but they were efficient and Spencer leaned her back against the wall, a gesture meaning she would listen.
She blinked three times in a row before speaking.
"Talk."
And here came the bad part.
Emily still found it so difficult to order her thoughts and talk.
"You can't deny", she stuttered and tripped and hesitated, "A's got this thing with me."
Articulate, clever girl.
Red colors and shades danced in Spencer's neck and face once again.
"You didn't get the HGH original report, right?", Spencer snapped, annoyed at Emily's lack of clarity. "Which was the reason you did all these things. So what's gonna happen next? What are you gonna do?"
Words that were questions because she was mad but she really wanted to know.
"What do you mean? We have A's phone, so that's what's gonna happen now."
"What if we don't get the phone to work, Emily? What if there's nothing there?", Spencer asked, making across all of her points. She was the one who was good with words and questions. "What happens when you're instructed to make out with a girl? You can call this one, you already got her number." She pointed at Emily's phone with her head. "Are you gonna do it? Or are you gonna go to the woods again so you can get properly murdered this time?"
Emily couldn't keep herself from rolling her eyes very explicitly.
"I'd never do that. Any of that."
"Is that a promise?"
"It's the truth", Emily snapped too, gaining a little confidence because that had been unfair, "and you know that."
"Yes, I guess I know that."
"You do know it."
"I also know you promised you wouldn't hide your texts or put yourself in danger", Spencer attacked again, hitting the same spot over and over. "That you would always tell me about these things. Which is exactly what you didn't do today."
Emily inhaled deeply and took a second to respond.
That wasn't unfair.
"I broke our promise", she said more calmly now, admitting her fault. "It's true. But I said I'd try my best and I did."
"You broke every fucking rule."
Emily's eyes widened at the accusation.
"That is not true. I broke one rule, one promise."
However, the walls had fallen down and Spencer was on full attack-mode.
"I remember you saying you knew what you had to do when this kind of thing happened", Spencer continued, so truly, overly angry right now that her breathing hitched and her voice screeched again. "We'd even talked about the HGH, Emily. Youknew and still you didn't have it in you to keep your promise."
Emily felt the red in her veins too.
"You make it sound like I was so happy to do it." Her voice was low, though. Almost soft, but not entirely sweet. "But what was I supposed to do? I did what you do all the time, you break the rules all the time."
No, no, no.
That was not true, she didn't mean it and this wasn't a good strategy.
She could see the fire coming out of Spencer's eyes now.
"I've never done this sort of thing, ever. And that's not even the point."
"You put yourself in danger constantly, you went to the bell tower to face Ian alone, you talked to Fitz, you talked to Wren on your own."
It was amazing how she kept saying words that were wrong. They weren't lies, but it was wrong to say them like this.
"So this has to do with Wren?", Spencer growled, sounding almost triumphant, like she'd uncovered a secret she already knew about. "Or is this the equality thing? You wanna get back at me for what happened with Wren, is that it?"
"No."
"Right."
"This is not about Wren, Spencer. It's about me, about us."
"You know, being killed first… that's a good way to become my equal." Her voice cracked again at the mention of death, almost as if she couldn't really help it. "But you're actually better than me cause you got the phone out of it, so congratulations! You're a hero now."
She cocked her eyebrows as if she was impressed but it didn't really come out as that. It came out as a weakness and Emily identified it as that. She remembered saying the equal thing when they fought about Wren and she guessed it had made quite the impression on someone as driven by words and thoughts as Spencer.
"And I never broke a promise when I talked to Wren", Spencer deadpanned. "I never did that. You did."
The walking dictionary, the lawyer's daughter.
Emily exhaled the air she'd been holding in during the attack.
There was no point in antagonizing Spencer.
Besides, it was Spencer who deserved an explanation, not her.
She had to come clean.
Say the right thing.
Clean the open wounds; destroy the walls.
Face the consequences.
"It's…" Get it out. Shut the demon out. Shut your pride. "I broke our promise, you're right."
She had already said it but this time it did sound like a complete, naked admission, and Spencer looked away, recognizing the hand that was tended to her and struggling to respond something that would sound right too.
But she didn't find it. So there was no response.
"I'm not proud I lied to you, Spencer, or that I broke our pact", Emily insisted. "I didn't want to do it. I just wanted to be able to fight back instead of just sitting here feeling cornered all the time."
This was the hardest part to explain and maybe she'd never be able to actually say it right, but at least now she had gotten it out and it was coming. The words were coming.
Spencer nodded.
Apparently she understood that part, even if it made her mad.
"When did you start hiding the texts?"
"Yesterday night."
"And what did they say?"
"A was gonna tell your parents."
Spencer scrunched up her brows and shot a quizzical look, not really understanding this part.
"My parents?"
Emily was opening her mouth to explain the messages about the Hastings, about the pool, about Alison, when someone knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a response. It was Aria.
"Sorry, guys", she apologized, "but if you really wanna do this I think you should both come down before it's too late. Or at least you, Spencer."
She didn't want to make Emily come down if she was feeling too weak or exhausted.
Spencer seemed a little confused with the interruption and the change of topic, as if she'd forgotten about Caleb and Hanna for a moment. But then her face acquired that focused, alert expression she always had when there was something to do that required her attention.
The walking dictionary, the superhuman girl.
"We'll be right there in a sec", she said to Aria. "What does Hanna say?"
"She's still saying no, but she'll take it if we really push her. I feel kinda bad about doing it alone."
Yes, it wasn't fair that Aria was doing it alone.
Spencer and Emily locked eyes, they were thinking the same.
Shocks, bolts of communication like electricity frizzing the air in the white shiny room, shattering the furniture around them, bringing down the walls.
"We have to go", Spencer stated in Emily's direction, "we need to do this."
Aria carefully sneaked out and left them alone again.
"Spencer, I can stay tonight if you want", Emily said before they left the room, "to talk. I wanna explain…"
"What about Ms. Marin?", Spencer interrupted.
The world.
There was a world out there where they were teenagers subjected to schedules and rules.
"I'll probably be grounded during the weekend, but…"
"No, I'll need you during the weekend", Spencer interrupted again, "for this. We don't know what's gonna happen now."
What was going to happen now?
Emily nodded.
Spencer was right.
Maybe it was better. No, but it wasn't. She still needed to explain.
"I want to explain this to you."
They stared at each other, and Emily could see the hesitation in Spencer's eyes. She also wanted to listen to what Emily had to say. She was ready. But it was taking so long to make the right thing, to say the right words.
"We don't have to decide now", Emily offered. "Let's do this."
It was what Spencer was needing to hear, so they both left the bathroom and walked downstairs.
A/N: People, thank you very much once again for your reviews. One by one:
sieamberc: I always try to picture Troian and Shay (as well as Lucy Hale and Ashley Benson) when writing. I always have the show in mind, even if the fic drives the story in a different direction, because it really bothers me when I don't "see" the characters or the situation. So... thanks :))) And, yes, I think we can definitely blame it on the genes. There's a theme that runs from "Speeding Up" about Emily not being a fighter, which I always tried to show was not the truth when it came to her. I think she is definitely a fighter :)
elmopll-whatever: :P Oh, Spencer did suspect a lot, of course... Caleb time! Caleb will be around, but he won't really appear that much because it's so crazy difficult to include everything!
LaughLoveLiveXx: Exactly! The theme runs thru the fic from the very first chapter of "Speeding Up". It's about the weakest link and about finding Emily's own sense of worth and strength, about finding the way to fight back... which is not necessarily the best one, but it is ONE. I think Emily's clearly defined by that.
Kay Trix:Totally a sucker for heartthrob Emily... haha
Karmen Sandiego: Ohhhh, this is angsty... and it's gonna get worse! There'll be good moments too, I promise. But I just love drama!
Sora Yogami: You got it totally right! Because Spencer is scared, more than angry. Or she's angry because she's scared. And you can't imagine how glad I am that you liked this badass Emily! It was a important part in the fic. It was sort of a center, or a peak, so I had to try to make it work.
snakeyninja: we're definitely getting bitchy/jealous Spencer... We'll also be getting supportive, understanding Spencer. We'll be getting both! I think there was already a lot (or maybe not a lot) of that in this chapter...
Waves of Rage: things are getting serious...
IxHeartxGlee: I laughed at the "stupid, but ultimately awesome" because that's exactly what I think. And I bet Emily would actually agree if she thought about it... Although she's a fictional character so that doesn't really make sense!
dmpanda5: thank you! Was Spencer's blow-up convincing?
Maxi-Luca: THANK YOU! And, yes, it was intense to write. Because Emily really thought she was going to die, so it had to be very intense. But I wanted to mix the thoughts with the moving images and give them a sense of speed and I'm not sure if it worked that well; although you liked it so that makes me happy :D I did want to insist too in the sort of idea that tells us that A is human but is inhuman (evil) at the same time. Thus the Shadow and "it", but it's a person with a human form and ultimately human motivations and weaknesses.