A/N 1: Following the advice of a Guest, here's a brief summary of what happened in the previous chapters: Emily quit the swim team and is condemned to study all the time. Spemily are having trouble communicating (talking, kissing and sexing it up), but they flirted a little thanks to Aria's joke about Team Sparia. Spencer made up with Hanna, so Hanna's back on the A-investigation as well as on everything else.
For you Paily/McFields shippers, I hope I didn't get Paige totally wrong.
Emily sneaked inside the large room and walked in rhythmic steps to the benches, her dark gaze avoiding the water as her hands sank into the pockets of her purple hoodie. Like a stranger, a foreigner who was paying a long due visit, a tourist to the monument of the pool, Emily chose the third row. Keeping her distance in respect and caution, she climbed up the bench and stood up on the metallic plank, finally confronting the view as she turned around in the air. The light blue filled her eyes and the chlorine fluttered in slow blows until completely invading her lungs, the smell so intense her mouth almost tasted the water, causing her jaw to tighten in an unusual, unlikely hard gesture. Maybe this hadn't been a great idea. She should probably go back to her defensive post in the library, where she was battling the war against A now that Spencer and Aria (Team Sparia) led the offensive and Hanna had been re-incorporated with gold stars to the army of anti-A-doom. But, now that she was here, and now that she was alone, and taking into consideration that she should really return the extra keys to the coach even if she still hadn't been asked to do it, it was better to get it over with. It had to happen at some point, after all. It'd better happen before she got an invitation for a swim meet she wouldn't be able to dismiss.
Go Sharks, go.
Jeans touching the backrest as she sat on it, fingers curling around its cold metal, Emily watched the water in a hesitant, respectful silence.
A stranger to the pool.
A newborn to the world.
Emily Fields, this is the world you live in today, the world without the pool.
Hey there.
Nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you too.
Hard as it was to believe, this was the first time she'd set a foot here ever since the day she quit the team. Swim practice was over for the day and the previous agitation had been completely erased from the atmosphere, yet invisible footprints still marked the safety rubber floor surrounding the pool like drops staining the air and painting it in transparent, subtle colors and notes. She could almost hear the sounds of their clean, limpid strokes, envision the swimmers groaning as they checked their times. Could she identify the owners of the liquid footprints if she actually got closer to the pool? Speedy-swimmer, graceful team-captain Emily Fields; killer Emily Fields; quitter, weak-link, good-girl, now moody, ghostly Emily Fields; but not a cheat; never a cheat. This was the Emily Fields who was here now paying the visit to the pool, not to say hello, not to say goodbye either; it was more of an in-between, a how-you-doing kind of salutation like a timid passerby, like an old, estranged friend, because she was still caught up on that vague, cloudy place where she could not tell what was going to happen with her (swimmer) life. She couldn't really say yet. But could she tell who had been there and who had skipped practice, like the good, responsible captain she used to be a few weeks ago? That was if she actually got closer to the water. Probably not. She was no imaginary water-footprint hunter. Besides, she'd better not get close to the water now. Maybe next time, for the next visit, she'd be prepared to say hello and sink her feet inside, maybe even swim a couple of lanes if no one was watching.
Hey, water.
Cry me a pool.
Do you miss me like I miss you too?
Emily inhaled deeply, saving the tears and sticking to her place on the bench.
Facing the truth, thinking about it was the first, the most important step to recovery. It'd been impossible to do for the past weeks, but Emily had promised herself she wouldn't stop swimming, even training when she made the decision to quit. Yet – she couldn't even entertain the thought of just going for an easy, uncompromising swim. And it wasn't as if she adored the competition for the sake of it (she was no Hastings); she didn't really miss the team in that sense; well, maybe a little, because she'd learned to enjoy the adrenaline-fuelled feeling of winning a race too. It wasn't the first time she'd been apart from the pool either. But, as usual, the problem with her – the problem with Emily Fields – was that she'd been slow to calculate the consequences of her decision, she'd fooled herself into believing it'd be faster, easier to get to A once they had the phone in their hands. But it wasn't. It never was. Hanna was right: it never was easy whenever A was involved. Her comeback to the team had to be postponed one more day… one more week, one more month? The problem was that Emily lived in the perpetual postponement of life. Spencer kept hinting at the problem, sort of speaking in what she must have thought were subtle messages of concern, implying without any antagonism that a new decision couldn't be postponed much longer. Spencer didn't know how to be subtle about what she thought; she was trying really hard not to sound bossy and judgmental, which was adorable in that unique Spencer-way, although it was also painful for Emily, because Emily knew Spencer was trying only so she wouldn't upset her or add another problem to the problems Emily was already coping with. However, the sight of Spencer trying so hard for her somehow aggravated all of it; it shouldn't be like that between them; they didn't work that way. Meanwhile, her parents kept insisting she simply had to stop the nonsense, a tinge of extreme impatience hidden behind the worry in her mother's voice: the condition to stay in Rosewood was to get a row of As, and a single B meant either going back to the team or the threat of leaving town. Even her father was trying his best to sound ruthless about it, probably because he didn't know exactly what to do. They were coming to celebrate her birthday, and Emily suspected it was also to stage some kind of intervention. At school, the coach didn't ask for the extra keys to the pool, and the principal dedicated longing glances to her whenever he saw her walking by the hallways, as though he was in a platonic love affair with the lost swimmer, not exactly (thankfully) with the real, yet ghostly Emily Fields. Emily Fields, ex-swimmer, ex-captain of the team, suddenly the object of nostalgic affection of a handful of people at Rosewood High,people who missed her. It was awkward at its best, especially because she had to pretend she just didn't care about it, a bronze statue with no-see eyes, always lowering her head until a book fell into her hands – or until she pretended to find one, anyway.
Books.
Not that she hated them, but they reminded her of everything she couldn't do right now.
That was why she'd come here today, though. A baby step towards recovery. There used to be a time when she'd come to the pool to clear her head every day like it was nothing. Established as a routine, this was her little customary world in Rosewood, PA, the little world she knew besides going to class and holding secret meetings and getting anonymous texts one day or another. This was what Emily used to do for years: she came to swim practice and her head cleared up of all the noise, and it happened like it was really nothing, like it'd go on forever, like it'd actually improve her life, a companion to college and then what else. What else. Everything else. The future else. Sound was out, sight went blank underwater – starry black, then a wavering, daring, taunting blue, sweet adrenaline feeding her muscles in a music only she could produce; then she got out, still hearing nothing but her own heart until someone talked to her, sometimes a roar of voices and hoots when it was a meeting; she turned around in a naturally learned gesture and searched for her friends, always seeing Spencer's arrow-figure first, leaning forward, fists reaching high, even back when it was Alison's image Emily looked for before anyone else's; and she smiled. It was so different from all the other things she ever did. Classes, friends, would-be loves, parents, teachers, words, clues, phones. Everything just disappeared underwater for a moment before coming back with striking clarity and force. Like Spencer. Yes, like Spencer. Emily had come to the pool to find a way to deal with her feelings for Spencer at the time when she was sort of trying to exterminate them, months ago. Because it was peaceful here. Because it was silent here. There was always going to be a secret place without noise and fear, and it didn't really matter if she was swimming for a team or not: Emily could just feel it, see it inside of her, it was inside and it belonged to her; but the pool reminded her of it with such intensity it still astonished her and moved her to tears. Emily had believed, up until this point, that no matter what happened it'd always be there for her, she'd always be a swimmer even if she didn't actually swim for a team, even if she didn't swim to win a race.
Always.
Emily Fields.
This was the new world, this was the new Emily Fields.
An almost seventeen-year-old baby ghost.
A swimmer without a pool, a fighter fighting the war from the library.
A nobody.
The swimmer Fields, the killer Fields, the quitter Fields.
But she was also the bold, temerary Fields who stole A's phone.
She had to find her way back, if not to the pool, at least to the secret place inside of her, to her peace of mind. And also to the pool, because she owed it to Spencer. She owed so many things to Spencer, who was killing herself over this. Maybe she should get closer to the water, just get a little closer and try. It was nothing, really. It didn't mean she was coming back. It didn't mean she was going to break down about it or that she was going to get Bs or that her parents were going to freak out even more. It was just a pool, the same old pool, the same old place, the same old school where she came every day and walked around and greeted the people she knew. Just as she was the same Emily Fields who was actually turning seventeen in a few days and had asked Spencer to leave Rosewood for a couple of hours and have dinner somewhere else for her birthday, maybe in Philadelphia, somewhere nice and cool and A-free (although A's power also reached Philadelphia). Just to get out of Rosewood, in case they could actually make some nice carefree conversation for the first time in weeks; maybe even kiss inside of Spencer's car after they left the place; maybe even make out (but sex didn't solve problems, she had to keep that in mind) as a special birthday occasion. It wasn't Spencer's fault they weren't really talking (or kissing) much. It was hers. She didn't really know what to say to Spencer. Most of the times she felt there was nothing to say that would calm Spencer down the way Emily's presence seemed to soothe Spencer's nerves some time ago. It was up to her to relax Spencer and all she was doing later was drive her to a state of higher anxiety and hyperactivity. And still she couldn't find anything to say, not a thing to say about it.
What else.
She had to do something, stop complaining, stop fighting tears in every restroom.
Stretching out and standing up on the plank, Emily gained an eagle-view of the object of her own nostalgic affection: the pool.
Do you miss me too, do you?
As if an inanimate object could feel her near or even care about her feelings.
"Emily?"
No, the pool was not talking to her. She wasn't that crazy yet.
Emily turned towards the voice, her heart jumping in automatic fright despite the evidence of a harmless, well-known presence.
Busted.
Busted by the new team captain.
"Yeah, hi."
Paige smiled, clearly surprised by Emily's hoodie-eagle position in the benches. Her auburn hair was still wet from the showers and shone in different wooden and orangish shades, combined with the darker shadows and the artificial bluish lights in the room.
"What are you doing here?"
The question came out direct as Paige decidedly walked towards the benches to join her.
Emily just shrugged her shoulders, trying to hide the disappointment as Paige got closer, an air of natural, fresh energy about her that virtually neutralized every grim, sombre wave Emily was sending out and imposing on the room. She didn't want anyone to find her here; much less the new team captain, even if it was Paige. She didn't want to explain anything to anybody. She didn't want to have another swimmer so close to her right now. She didn't want to be aware of two different energies mixed up and combined: one fresh out of the water, the other one a ghost that had crumpled out of the crumpled pages of a book.
"Nothing."
That was all her mind could put together and package into a word.
"I thought I'd closed the door", Paige replied in a plain tone, almost as if she wasn't that conscious of the difference in energy. "How did you come inside?"
Emily pursed her lips, uneasy about the question even if there was nothing accusatory in it.
"I still have a key", Emily explained with the truth, but then added the lie, "I was gonna give it back but there was no one here."
Yes, you lie.
You lie because that's what A wants you to keep doing.
Paige climbed up the benches in fast steps until she was standing next to Emily on the plank. Both standing up, they looked down to the pool.
"Are you coming back?"
One thing Paige had grown to be was very direct about her questions. She was always direct but also somewhat awkward. In the process of becoming even more direct, Paige had lost a lot of awkwardness and had gained confidence and spontaneity, especially when she felt comfortable around people or in places she liked to be. Emily was one of those people Paige felt comfortable around, apparently. The pool Paige definitely liked.
Emily shook her head, but a coy smile made its appearance and broke into her full lips.
"Why? Are you scared you're gonna lose again?"
She didn't really mean to sound so cocky, but at the same time she couldn't totally help it.
Paige responded with a thinly veiled smile.
"I should be scared, right?" Paige's smile grew wider. "I wish I could be."
Emily frowned, not exactly understanding the meaning of the wish. It could be a challenge, though, so she smiled another knowing smile. They had been friendly rivals ever since Paige stopped behaving like a jerk.
"Meaning."
"We miss you", Paige said instead of throwing down a challenging gauntlet, "and we want you back. Me too."
Emily nodded, not really surprised by the abrupt honesty emanating from the new captain. All cockiness aside, Paige seemed to be fond of her, probably because of their history together… which hadn't been as long as to be considered History with a capital H, but Emily guessed it'd been significant enough for both of them, especially for Paige in some ways.
"No, really, we do", Paige assured, mistaking Emily's nod for a sign of disbelief, "I do."
Emily looked straight at her to instil some reassurance into the other swimmer.
"Thanks."
"I mean it."
Well, Paige was still a little awkward sometimes. Or maybe Emily just didn't look convincing enough.
"And I mean my thanks."
"You do?"
"Yes."
"So are you coming back now?"
"No."
Paige sighed, another thin smile returning to her lips.
"At least you can say out there I'm trying my best to get you back."
Then she redirected her brownish eyes to the water, and Emily did the same, somehow catching a double sense she wasn't so sure was actually there. Was it always this awkward with exes? Did everybody wonder about double meanings, or was it only her? Truth was she'd never felt that kind of ambiguity with Paige again, not since she started dating Spencer, and anyway it'd been Paige who had decided to leave the whole thing between them in the dark and hidden, so she was probably making a fuss out of the comment.
Ages had gone by since they kind of dated.
Paige was just trying to do what everybody else was trying to do: get her back on the team. But it wasn't as if she needed to be convinced about how good a swimmer she was.
"I must be such a winner", Emily joked in order to deactivate the possibility of any double meaning, "cause right now everybody's sorta trying to get me back on the team."
"Definitely", Paige agreed, "you know you are."
"I feel the love."
Okay, so maybe this joke wasn't the best one, but it was too late to suck it back up.
"You should."
No, maybe it wasn't the best comment.
They stayed in silence, still looking down on the water until Paige returned her gaze to Emily.
"So", Paige started, "what are you doing sneaking in here with your stolen keys, captain? Just thinking about coming back to push me out of it?"
Confronted with the new question, somehow relieved the double meaning wasn't there but anguished about the return of the pool-theme, Emily decided to buy some time and sit. This time she sat on the plank like a normal, well-behaved spectator and not on the backrest, the reticence to talk overwhelming her and closing down on her throat once more.
She should just leave with an excuse… the eternal excuse about studying.
It'd become easy.
"Something like that, yeah."
"Well, then there's nothing to think about, just don't give back the keys", Paige tried again, sitting by her side too, "although let me tell you I'll be putting up a fight."
Paige obviously felt like talking. They hadn't really seen each other in a while, other than crossing their paths in the halls or exchanging a greeting in class.
"You know you don't stand a chance", Emily mocked, but felt immediately grim about her words because she wasn't really training these days, so Paige probably stood every chance to beat her right now, "plus you already called me captain."
"Cause you're still my captain."
Oh, captain, my captain .
Your captain's dead.
Or a ghost.
"You're the new captain now, you better get used to it."
"I'm trying."
"And you're probably loving every second of it", Emily smiled, but the smile rapidly faded away, "anyway I'm not coming back."
Paige shot Emily a look full of curiosity.
"I never actually formally thanked you for the words you said about me to the coach", she said, very formally indeed, "so… you know, thank you."
Emily did remember a thank-you that had actually been exchanged in between classes.
"I think you did thank me, Paige."
"I did?"
"Yeah."
"Right, that time I sorta ran into you in Calculus", Paige confirmed with a snarky charm, because she had gone there looking for Emily, "it's getting hard to see you around lately."
"I'm studying a lot."
That was the official reason, and they both looked back to the pool, somehow enjoying the awkward silence more than the sound of words.
Some seconds passed.
Emily started thinking again about moving her limbs back to the library. She didn't really want to be here all this time.
"Can I ask you a personal question?"
Paige spoke out of the blue, almost as if she'd perceived Emily's immediate excuse to say goodbye.
Emily turned to look at her quizzically, hoping it wouldn't be about the team and at the same time knowing it'd be about the team.
"It depends", Emily answered, "shoot."
"Why did you actually quit?"
A direct question about the team.
A direct question Emily couldn't answer with the truth. She didn't know what she was doing here. She shouldn't have come.
Just say it like every other time you say the words.
"I want to get better grades", Emily repeated, and she knew she was sounding formulaic and lame, "and anyway I'm not gonna be this great swimmer everyone was expecting me to be, and I don't really want that for me, I was feeling too pressured to go on and get better and about the scholarships and so on."
Said and done.
Sounding almost like a recorded message in a voice machine.
She had quit because of A and she kept lying because of A.
A always won.
"But you used to really love this", Paige opted to shoot back tentatively, obviously not buying the voice-machine explanation, "you were the one who told me it wasn't about winning or about becoming great or about any other thing you could achieve, only about swimming."
Emily swallowed her guts and her heart.
"I got tired of it."
"You're not gonna tell me the actual reason?"
"That is the actual reason."
The unusually curt response made Paige back off a little, even physically.
"If that's the actual reason", she said, not really giving up, "why are you here today and why do you look so…?"
She searched for the most appropriate word but couldn't find it, so the sentence was left unfinished.
"So what?"
Emily wondered if everybody saw a ghost whenever they looked at her.
"So sad, so not happy."
There it was.
Yes, everybody saw it.
The last thing Emily needed was another person questioning her motives but she was here. She had come to the pool in search of a baby-step recovery. And she'd run into Paige, so it wasn't as if she could erase the whole situation now and act like it wasn't even possible to run into someone who would specifically question her about this.
"I still miss it sometimes." She decided to say part of the truth. "And it helps me think about my problems."
She could feel Paige's eyes boring holes into her skin, trying to uncover the truth.
"So what are you thinking about?"
"Those are two personal questions."
It did come out as sort of curt again, although that wasn't Emily's intention.
"Okay, Emily", Paige softly protested, lifting her hands a little in surrender, "I'm sorry."
Shit.
Moody, ghostly Emily was really better off with her mouth shut.
"No, I am sorry", Emily apologized, "I'm just kinda worn out about everything and it gets a little tiring to explain the same thing over and over to everyone who asks, but it's all right, really."
Paige nodded, and this time she seemed to understand what Emily meant.
"You don't need to explain anything."
"No, it's okay", Emily insisted, feeling bad about behaving so moodily with everybody she ever saw who actually showed a little concern about her motives. She breathed deeply, infusing a false sense of courage and tranquillity into herself. She was so tired of this situation, and only two weeks and a half had sort of passed by. "I think I should try playing some other sport. Cause, you know, studying so much's really getting on my nerves lately and I don't really move a lot and it's weird, you know, cause I'm used to moving every day."
She'd actually been thinking about this for the past few days but it was the first time she expressed it in words. She was going crazy in this state of reclusion and paralysis. For years now she'd been practicing a sport and it was driving her nuts to suddenly behave like a blinded bookworm. Even bookworms such as Spencer actually practiced sports. Well, Spencer did everything. There was never a bookworm more active than Spencer.
Paige raised her brows.
"Another sport?"
"Yeah, one that's not so… you know, that doesn't consume me so much."
"That you don't love so much, you mean."
Emily shot a resentful glance. Paige did seem too comfortable and direct around her.
"That I don't have to dedicate so much time to, yeah."
"What sport have you been thinking of?"
"Maybe field tracking?", Emily said out loud, not really avoiding the dreamy albeit sarcastic tone. "It goes with my name."
Paige smiled widely at Emily's joke.
"What is that anyways? Sounds like a sport for dogs and not for people."
"It's like cross-country running."
Like chasing A in the woods.
"So it's basically running."
"I'm a good runner, especially if it's cross-country."
Especially if it meant running after A.
Paige nodded, widening her brown eyes as she thought about it.
"Well, if you're so sure… go for it."
"Yeah, I might do it… if I have time."
"You should… you obviously need the exercise", Paige said, and then her skin suddenly, unexpectedly blushed in a diffused pinkish shade that somehow matched her eyes and her hair. "You know, to blow off some steam if you're getting so nervous."
Emily wondered about the blush. It had no apparent reason.
"I might do it", Emily repeated. There was actually a team at school but it wasn't a very popular sport in Rosewood, so it wouldn't get A's attention as much as swimming. Since she wouldn't get a scholarship or any prestige out of it A would leave her alone. "There's a team here… I'll tell Spencer about it, see if she knows something."
"Does she have to give you permission?"
The kind of too-comfortable, too-direct, too-something-else question caught Emily by surprise, and her brows curved and rose in interrogative, irritated fashion.
"Obviously not."
Paige blushed more intensely, her slightly freckled nose becoming a dark pink.
"That came out totally wrong", Paige said, her voice trembling a little in embarrassment, "I really didn't mean it like that, Emily."
"She's not like that."
Her voice was steely and firm. She knew Paige had no reasons to like Spencer, but the permission-comment was completely wrong and unfair. Especially now, with everything Spencer was going through because of her, just because she was trying to help her.
"It came out wrong."
"You don't know her."
Paige sighed in defeat.
"I'm sorry, okay?"
She sounded so terribly apologetic Emily felt guilty, knowing she was being too hard on Paige, too hard on everybody, too hard on herself. Too hard on Spencer as well, and that hurt the most, that really hurt the most.
She looked down to her knees and her hands, unable to meet either the sight of water or of Paige right now.
"It's okay, don't worry about it", Emily mumbled, and it was her own voice that was trembling now, "but it's not her fault I quit. She's trying every way to get me back to swimming."
Paige shook her head in what appeared to be a slight nod, still looking apologetic.
"I know you're great together", she mumbled too, strangely nervous. "Every time I see you guys together… I mean, I wasn't saying it was her fault you quit."
Suddenly realizing her posture was completely rigid and tense, Emily tried to relax her muscles a bit, moving her shoulders and leaning back on the seat, lifting her boots to the backrest in front of her in yet another uncivilized gesture.
She really needed to play another sport.
A solitary one which would keep her away from opening her mouth.
"I just don't want anybody thinking", Emily said, not sure why she was talking about this to Paige, "you know, that I decided to focus on my grades because of her. It's not like that."
"No, I didn't…", Paige tried to reply, sounding confused, "I didn't assume anything like that, Em. She's just the type of person who's always bossing people around so I was just trying to make a stupid joke."
"She's not always that bad."
"Really?"
There was a tinge of mockery in Paige's question.
"She just does everything better than everybody else", Emily explained, "and has very clear ideas about how to do it."
Paige raised her brows comically.
"That must be it."
"Hey."
The warning was matched by an assassin-killer look Emily had perfected during the last weeks in the library.
"I agree." This time Paige looked and sounded comical, almost as if she was fake-taking the oath on the Scouts badge, both lifting her shoulders and her brows in an all serious, solemn attitude. "I do."
"You better agree", Emily smiled, the tension relaxing, "cause it's the truth. And, anyway, what do you know? It's not like she bosses you around or anything."
"I did play field hockey for a while."
"That was years ago."
And Spencer had said Paige was violent in the field.
"She's famous around school for being The Boss everyone turns to", Paige added, "and she's also famous for getting the best grades and for being just slightly obsessed about them."
"And she'll be famous for a lot of more things when she gets outta here."
"Yeah", Paige accepted, "I agree."
"And there's a reason why people turn to listen to her."
Paige wiggled her brows now.
"Oh-kay", she said, comically again, "you don't have to defend your Boss-Princess against the hungry jaws of the Evil Monster, cause I'm not attacking her."
Emily let out a brief laugh at the expression Boss-Princess. It did match Spencer somehow.
"Boss-Princess", she repeated, "I guess that'd make me the Servant-Prince. Or the Servant-Princess. Weird."
She wished she could be more of a servant – or of an assistant – lately. It all made her sad.
"I definitely think you're a princess."
Emily shot Paige a glance out of the corner of her eye. They had been joking about this while they looked at the pool again, but she somehow caught a slightly admiring, flirty tone in Paige's voice.
"She does know how to take care of herself though", Emily said, thinking about Spencer's qualities as Boss-Princess, "she's been doing it forever."
But not in the right way.
Man, why couldn't she just forget about everything and get herself back on track and go around with Spencer? She knew Spencer always needed someone by her side. It wasn't fair.
"It's not like she's easy to get to know."
Surprisingly enough, Paige was accompanying her in this brain-storming about Spencer.
"It's not that hard to know her."
"Maybe… if she actually likes you", Paige commented thoughtfully, her sneakers also on the front backrest, "which she does… meaning she likes you, but not other people."
"She likes people."
Well, Emily couldn't really lie about that. People maybe, but Paige… Spencer didn't like Paige. That was true, it was too obvious to deny it and Paige was clearly aware of it.
"Maybe she does like some people", Paige responded, taking the route Emily had innocently laid out for her, "but she doesn't like me and I'm people too."
Emily internally kicked her head and self-slapped.
"And do you like her?"
"I don't have anything against her", Paige claimed, sounding convincing, "she seems cool to hang out with and, you know, ballsy, and kind of interesting to talk to."
Ballsy.
Spencer was plenty of ballsy, among so many other things.
"She is interesting."
"Well, tell her to talk to me", Paige dared, "or at least to say my name whenever we see each other."
It was Emily's turn to sigh in defeat.
"Yeah, she doesn't really like you", she accepted, "but you can't totally blame her."
Paige seemed taken aback by Emily's admission.
"I don't blame her, I just don't really get it but…"
"She knows what happened."
All the color in Paige's face was abruptly sucked out, like a vampire had sipped all the blood out of her body in a single gulp. Not Emily's vampire, though.
"What exactly?"
"All of it."
It seemed impossible for Paige's blood to slip away even more, but it happened.
"All of it?"
Emily nodded in confirmation, guessing Paige was so terrified because all meant the drowning incident was included as well. Or maybe it was something else.
"Did you tell her I apologized for everything I did?"
"Yeah", Emily confirmed too, "but you know…"
"No wonder she doesn't like me."
Emily felt guiltier now.
"Well, it's not only that, it's…"
The rest.
The rest, meaning they dated for a few days and Spencer hated it (but she couldn't tell Paige about that).
The rest, meaning Emily said Paige's name when she was forced to mention the best kisser she'd ever kissed, and Spencer hated that too. (But she couldn't tell Paige about that either.)
The rest, meaning Spencer could sometimes be excessively judgmental and hard on people. But she wasn't going to tell Paige about that either because, as judgmental as Spencer could get, she was also the softest, warmest person Emily knew, and no one needed to hear about Spencer's imperfections which weren't real imperfections. Spencer was imperfectly perfect; or perfectly imperfect. And no one understood that better than Emily.
Really, did everything backfire in life?
Words, kisses, actions, non-actions too.
"I'm sorry", Paige blurted out, "I'm just… I'm sorry."
Shit.
Everything she was saying was making Paige feel bad. And here Paige was just trying to talk to her in all kindness and support, and all she did was crash her with her moodiness and her ghostliness once and again.
"No", Emily refused to accept the unnecessary apology, "it's fine, we're good now, we've been good for months."
Paige lowered her feet to the ground and turned to lock her gaze with Emily in a way that was too intense for Emily's actual liking. Her brown eyes were covered with changing lights and shades, like they were sending messages in different frequencies and tones.
"I know."
"Everything's fine", Emily reassured, "Spencer's just…"
Protective.
"I was such a moron to you."
"You were going through a really rough time."
"Emily?"
"Yeah."
"I never told you this, you know", Paige said, and Emily felt her body tensing up, "but after all we talked and all you said to me, you actually gave me the guts to talk to my parents, and I did."
A confession.
Emily wasn't expecting it.
"You told them you're gay?"
"Yeah, I came out."
Suddenly Emily understood where all that outburst of confidence and easiness was coming from. Paige felt new and clean in her true skin.
It had happened to Emily too.
It was good news.
"You did?"
"Yeah, during the summer", Paige explained, "I was gonna tell you, but you know…"
"How did it go?"
"Better than I'd thought", Paige continued, sounding almost relieved, "I mean, my dad still behaves like gay people shouldn't exist and all, but he didn't kick me out or anything. And my mom's kinda cool about it, keeps asking for girls who call and stuff."
"That's… so great."
"Seriously though, thank you."
"I didn't do it… It was you."
"Well, I did it for… because of you, in a way."
Paige blushed again, unable to continue the explanation, and Emily's skin darkened violently in response. Oh, did she hate to blush, especially when it was going to be noticed.
"It wasn't really me, it was you", Emily repeated, "but thank you."
"No, thank you."
Emily held her breath while searching for the proper way out of thanking-and-blushing mode. But all she could think of doing was smiling her trademark shy-and-sweet smile and trying to look away to reduce the intensity of the moment. Coming out was a big thing. Especially when nobody else chose the moment for you. Especially when you had been hating yourself for being the person you were. So… she understood how big a thing this was for Paige, and why she would want to share it with a person who had also been scared to death to come out; not only that, with the person who had actually told her things would get better once she expressed the gay as naturally as she could. And that was why Paige had become so much more direct and spontaneous since the summer. It all made sense now.
"I'm so glad for you", Emily managed to say, "it's just great."
"And then you talked to the coach", Paige added, "so thank you again and again, Emily."
It seemed impossible to get out of thank-you mode, really, so Emily laughed.
"You already thanked me for that twice."
Paige smiled and looked down before returning her musical-brown gaze to Emily.
"How do you do it?", she asked, "you're always doing the right thing, always helping everybody, including me."
The blush had been fading away, but now Emily's skin darkened even more. She knew Paige was exaggerating her feelings of appreciation and she also had an idea as to why she was doing it, and she had to stop it already, but she couldn't really avoid the expanding blush.
She decided to be honest even if she risked sounding too sharp.
"Can we skip all the thank-yous and the you're-so-wonderful parts?"
Paige let out a dry, nervous laughter.
"Yeah", she agreed, "you don't really like them, do you?"
"Are you kidding? I hate them."
Paige nodded in acceptance, but kept staring in a way that seemed far too intense.
"I wish I'd fought harder for you", she suddenly said, "Spencer's lucky to have you."
Oh, god.
No.
This had to stop.
"It was for the best", Emily stated firmly, "and I'm even luckier to have her."
People didn't see it, did they? Some of them did see (Toby saw) but really… people didn't know how lucky she was. Of course people saw Spencer's attractions. Of course they were drawn to her like you're drawn to a mountain or to the light of the moon when you're out in the dark. But they just didn't see the whole of her, they didn't get it - they never would.
But she knew.
It was for the best because she got the best out of everything that could ever happen. Spencer was the big prize. Spencer was… She hadn't even found a way to deal with all the different things Spencer was. She was still trying to find that way, to be the best version of herself (and was miserably failing lately). Emily Fields: ghost. But a ghost who was struggling to reach out for the best inside of her, against all odds, infinity and beyond.
There was a meaningful silence between them until Paige decided to speak once more.
"I'm not trying to hit on you or anything."
Apparently, she had just realized her words could be interpreted that way.
Emily nodded emphatically, wishing it'd be the end of it.
"I would if you were single", Paige risked cockily, "but you're not… so, seriously, I won't."
Okay.
Breathe.
Get the blush out of the way.
Speak clearly.
"I'm totally and very happily taken." Emily tried to sound as firm as possible, although it was so awkward to actually talk like this. She'd never had to do it before. "So… you know, it's better if you don't…"
If you stop it.
"Got it", Paige smiled, "not happening. Really."
"Cool."
"Seriously."
"Okay."
Awkward.
They sat quietly and looked at the pool while the minutes passed and Emily thought about standing up and leaving.
"I should get going."
Emily finally found the words to inspire her ass to move. And then her ass moved and she stood up. Sending a soft glance to Paige that was also brief enough to impose enough distance, sending a more hurtful glance to the estranged friend the pool had become, she started walking towards the door until she realized she still had the keys.
Stopping, she turned around towards Paige, who was still sitting on the bench.
"The keys", she said, "I should give them to the new captain."
"Keep'em. Nobody knows about them."
Emily nodded, sort of accepting to share that secret with Paige.
She was starting to walk away when Paige's voice sounded in the ample space.
"Emily."
She turned around again.
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask you another question? You can say no."
Dread and tension invaded Emily's body. She hoped this wasn't about hitting on her or about thanking her again. She'd been clear enough.
"I really should go."
"It's not… It's not bad. Promise."
Emily crossed her arms, defensive, but stayed in the room waiting in expectation.
Paige stood up and approached her silently, stopping far enough to leave no doubt about her respect for Emily's personal bubble.
"If you quit… you know, if you quit the team so you'd feel better", she started, "but you're not feeling better… cause everyone can see that."
"I'm not that bad."
"I haven't asked the question yet."
Emily widened her eyes at Paige's cocky response as Paige struggled with the words she wanted to get out.
"What I wanna say is that you're here", she continued, "so that means something. And you told me you're missing it, and you're also looking so sad, so not okay, Emily."
Emily batted her lashes in clear impatience.
"So?"
"So why don't you just come back to the team?", Paige finally asked. "It's just that easy."
Emily looked down and grunted in annoyance, no hiding place for her now. At least this topic was less awkward than the other one.
"Isn't that the same question you already asked and I already answered a while ago?"
Wow.
She did sound so edgy lately, it even reached her own ears, leaving her too startled and perplexed for words. However, Paige didn't flinch or hesitate this time.
"Yeah, I guess", Paige admitted, "but it has a different formulation now."
Emily smiled faintly despite the annoyance she felt, looking away at the pool, the space she shared with Paige besides the coming-out trouble and fear, the place they both loved.
It used to be easy.
It used to be her safety net.
"I can't."
Tears finally reached Emily's eyes in waves that she fought to hold back. Her guard was down. They had talked a lot about different things… personal things. She had come to the pool, that was the truth, it was her fault. And now her guard was down.
She didn't know how to keep lying about her situation anymore.
"But why?"
Emily shrugged and blinked repeatedly.
"I just can't."
Paige nodded, trying to look understanding in all the confusion.
"You mean you can't tell."
"I mean I just can't. But thank you for trying to help."
There again: thank-you mode on repeat.
Giving her back to Paige, moving away towards the door, Emily felt like escaping from the space that used to be her strong, safety place in the direction of the unknown. Who was she now? Who was Emily Fields? Besides this person who sounded so edgy and moody all the time. Besides this person who was afraid to hold Spencer back. She was afraid to hold Spencer back, to make Spencer fall behind just because she herself wasn't being able to keep up the pace. Spencer, who was destined to great things, who was running from one place to another in search of A, and Emily couldn't even assist her or keep her safe. Not only that: Spencer, who kept offering to tutor her when she hardly had time to do everything she needed to do, everything she always did (because it was Spencer and Spencer did everything; and because it was senior year; and because Spencer was going to be famous). Spencer, who kept worrying about Emily's scholarships and studies and swimming options, who kept trying to instil a different, more reasonable decision in her, but didn't even consider confronting her in fear of a fight (but since when was Spencer afraid of a confrontation?), or maybe in fear of hearing Emily in that edgiest, meanest turn, of seeing her ugliest face. No wonder. That was the reason why Emily was keeping silent about the team and her classes, so Spencer wouldn't have to listen to this awful version of herself that left her perplexed.
This had been a debacle but she'd have to be back to the pool and try once again.
"Wait", Paige called, not giving up yet. She was a hard one, that was for sure. "One more thing."
Another turn-around, this time when Emily was so close to the door.
"You finally want the keys?", Emily asked, the battle against her tears already won, "I knew you'd make a good captain."
"No", Paige said, sounding deadly serious as she walked closer to Emily. "Listen, if you ever need someone to talk to or someone to go swimming with, whatever the time, even if you don't wanna come here, even if you need to go somewhere else, you just call me, okay?"
The offer surprised Emily.
"Yeah."
"I'm serious", Paige insisted, "call me. I'm a friend and I mean it."
Did she mean it?
Emily wasn't blushing now and wouldn't blush anymore, she was just trying to come to terms with the fact that she might have another friend who was willing to help and couldn't anyway. A friend who obviously had a crush on her, feelings for her, who wanted her back in more than a way. A friend Spencer despised. A friend who was also a swimmer. A swimmer like her. The new team captain. The old team captain.
Emily hugged herself with her arms, closing her own circle, holding her own walls.
"You mean it?", she asked, because she couldn't think of anything else to say. "For real?"
"I mean it. I won't try anything. Promise."
Promise.
Words.
Emily knew words sometimes weren't good enough, so this time it was her who locked eyes with Paige, deciding to confront the situation with her once and for all.
"If I actually call you", she made clear, "I won't take anything else but a friend."
"I know."
"I need you to get the message."
"I get it", Paige assured, "and it's loud and clear. I just wanna help you like you helped me."
Emily looked back to the pool, tears welling up all the time inexplicably. Her guard had really gone down once she'd stepped into this place.
"Good."
"You'll call me?"
"Maybe."
Yet another turn-around (the final one?) and Emily prepared to leave for the library, her post in the war. Later tonight she'd be meeting Spencer, Caleb, Hanna and Aria for a secret meeting about another clue; this time it was about Alison. But something stopped her for a second: the constant, repetitive thank-you mode. She might be at her worst, but she still knew what it meant to have someone try to get the best out of you.
Paige stood frozen in the same position, watching her leave.
Emily wondered if friendship was really an option, because she recognized that kind of look.
"Thank you."
And with that Emily finally left, not really knowing if she'd actually take Paige's offer for help.
An hour later and miles away from Rosewood High, Spencer was getting into her SUV to drive in a hurry to Aria's house. She had just left a meeting with the debate team and had to rush to Aria's to attend to their secret conspiracy to organize Emily's party before the other secret meeting with Emily and Caleb happened at her own house. Things were getting complicated about the b-day plan because Emily had suddenly requested to go to Philadelphia (or anywhere that was far enough from Rosewood) for dinner, and obviously Spencer had had to comply; but the party was going to happen anyway. She'd just have to organize everything in perfect timing; that was her specialty, so she had everything sort of under control. Then she had to cope with Aria, who was insisting on offering a unique present for Emily, and with Hanna, who agreed with Aria just to tease Spencer. As if that wasn't enough, she also had to deal with the Fields: they were coming to Rosewood and had asked her to be present for an intervention-dinner she had no idea about how to handle. So everything was a big (but somewhat controlled) mess now.
But she could do it.
All of it.
No problem.
That was the one good thing about being a Hastings: it played out useful when organizing schedules and plans.
On the road to Aria's, she sped up on the accelerator when she heard the phone beeping in her coat. Waiting until a red light came on, she looked for the cell in her pocket, guessing it'd be Aria or Hanna asking her to hurry up and die in a car accident. They didn't have a lot of time for everything and Spencer was already almost late.
But it was the blocked, anonymous enemy.
What a big surprise.
Long time, no see.
"She's not talking to you but she's talking to her. Sorry to rain on your love parade, Miss Not-So-Perfect Girl-or-friend. – A."
She.
Emily, obviously.
Her: no idea.
(She hoped for Hanna or Aria, but somehow knew it wouldn't be any of them. Why waste a text on them?)
Girl-or-Friend: that was kind of imaginative.
Yet – a painful blow first to the heart, then to the head, and the traffic light was already green.
Anyway she opened the attachment, she was too curious to know who the girl was. What else could she do? It always worked this way. A sent the text, sometimes a picture, they all crashed into it and got trapped like flies into a sticky web.
Emily.
Smiling.
Shy.
The girl was Paige McCullers.
She was smiling too.
Shy.
But confident?
Background.
Spencer recognized the space: the pool. A meeting between the captains? A meeting about the team, information that had to be passed on from one to another about… whatever? Or maybe Emily had gone there and then had run into Paige accidentally.
Paige.
The psycho without a name.
Spencer looked closer at her. Yes, she knew… it was the kind of thing they always did when a picture was received in one of their cell phones. Paige's hair was longer. It seemed kind of wet. From swimming? From the shower after swimming? It was longer and had an orangish brownish shade to it. She'd never noticed her hair was longer. She never really looked at her, but actually, now that she was looking at her, she did seem cuter than the last time Spencer noticed her months ago, ages ago. Cuter, somewhat softer, somewhat also… Ugh, she couldn't find the exact, precise word.
Still – a freak.
A freak who was smiling confidently to her girlfriend - her girlfriend smiling back in all her gorgeous, mysterious shyness.
A stab to the heart.
A rush of blood to the head.
The car behind her blew the horn in anger and then passed to the other lane.
And they were talking, right? That was what A said.
Watch out.
It's A.
This was A's game.
Spencer was smarter than this.
Smart-smart.
Smart-ass.
Know-it-all, clever Spencer Hastings had to admit she was getting pissed off, but she wouldn't make it easy for A to play the ball of jealousy in her field.
She drove the car to an empty space, leaned back on the seat.
Heart.
Beating.
Why Paige, of all people?
Why her?
What were they talking about?
Emily.
Emily in the pool.
Emily looking sad - smiling shyly in the pool. Why didn't she know Emily was going to visit the pool today? Did that mean she was thinking about going back to the team? Were they talking about that? About the team? At least Paige wasn't getting deadly looks from Emily if they were talking about that. Great. Great. Emily. Emily was going back to the team. If that was the reason, then it was good. Even if it meant she was talking with Paige McCullers about it. Was that what they were talking about? And was it working?
The text was pissing her off.
Resolute, adamant, clever Spencer Hastings wrote a text to Aria informing her of a slight delay and asking if she'd already invited Paige McCullers to the party. Aria said no, she was going to do it tomorrow. Spencer replied not to worry, she'd be the one to talk to her.
And she would indeed talk to her.
Paige.
The psycho with a name.
Spencer needed to look her in the eye and know what was going on.
A/N 2: There's some rewriting of 2x21 and 2x24 regarding Paige's character.
The part of the poem quoted as one of Emily's thoughts is Walt Whitman's "Oh Captain! My Captain! Our fearful trip is done", etc.
Mona: "Maladroite": I just loved that word :))) So... you get a foreshadowing of something bad (rupture, break-up?) that's going to happen, right? Well, I think this chapter actually shows how Emily's feeling... no good; but struggling. And I think I still have to work harder on the Spencer chapters... That's kind of a headache for me, because this fic has become very Emily-centric, but I have to show Spencer's development through it too.
Guest: did the summary, tell me if there's need for it to be longer or shorter! :) We got Emily's feelings about the team and about Spencer... We'll have to wait some more until we get a glimpse of how she's doing with Hanna. She's pretty much in a state of self-isolation right now.
LaughLoveLiveXx: LOL! I think Emily hates every book right now, not because she actually hates reading them but because of what they mean about this point in her life. That said - it is more of Spencer's thing ;) Yes! The "Speeding Up" resemblance was totally intended... as they're sort of going back to that kind of uncertainty, but in a different way.
Maxi-Luca: Hmmmm, I'm actually afraid of your judgment about this scene with Paige LOL And, yes, Hanna-Spencer interactions are always crazy good in the show. Besides... it's important to show how Spencer's trying to compartmentalize things so she can actually solve the mystery. She's the only one who can do it. And she knows.
xkxtxfx: Thank you mode on repeat! :P Anyway, as I said: yes! The "Speeding Up" feeling was and is still intended. It's the sense of uncertainty they're going through: it's not total sorrow or the heartbreak of a break-up, but it's a struggle for them, and it's going to reach a breaking point. As for the scene with Hanna, I was so not satisfied with the way they did it so quickly in the show. I did re-watch it, but I wanted it to be longer and to have that back-and-forth emotional tension these two characters give away so well...
x-sugarfree-x: We'll see more sparkling kisses, that's for sure; maybe "more", but not a explicit "more" xDDD
spicy emily: Awww, I hope you see I did throw a hint out there (end of the chapter, Spencer's part) about your idea, which I'm still considering. I can't promise anything, I have to see if I can write it well cause it's difficult to write songs into the plot and I don't like to just plaster them there; I can't promise one of the songs you said. But I'm thinking about it. I'm a fan of Troian's singing...
theninemuses7: I must thank you since I really, really like how you yourself write your metaphors xD Use of metaphors comes from reading lots of poetry. Sometimes they fit, sometimes they're not good, but I had a feeling the "troubled tsunami sun" was good.
dmpanda5: Hanna... We'll see a lot more of her, yes. Thanks!