A/N 1: Thanks to my new wonderful beta, Maxi-Luca, for helping me out put this chapter together and hopefully the rest of the fic. All improvements are due to her help. All mistakes are still mine... I'm stubborn.
I don't usually do this, but this chapter is dedicated to spicy emily and to sieamberc, for giving me two very important ideas to work with in this chapter.
Summary: I don't really remember... lol It's Emily's birthday party. Emily and Spencer made out in the parking lot but Spencer had to drag Emily to her surprise party. There they parted ways and Spencer freaked out because Emily kept talking to Paige, drank some of Hanna's vodka, talked to Aria, danced with a guy and finally ran out of the place. Caleb found her and told her to man up and show Emily that, in their case, being a friend and a girlfriend is nothing different and she can make Emily happy.
"Hello?"
Aria tapped her fingers on the microphone, the sound of her timid breath echoing around the crowd, and smiled in confidence, watching the work of art which had been her creation.
Two hundred candles separated the stage from the spectators, a see of light in the darkness. The crowd was on the other side. The angry crowd. Only this crowd was not angry but excited (or so she hoped) and the separation was thought of to underline their special offering to the true star of the night. There was a narrow aisle that allowed entrance to the stage on one of the sides. They had all walked the aisle after lighting up every candle with a match, one by one, like a giant birthday cake. Spencer and Caleb too. Hanna too, although she'd decided to stay with the crowd of spectators. Now the three of them were the figures on the cake, so to speak. Otherwise there were lights everywhere around. Lights like quietly burning hearts, wax birthday figures burning for Emily on the cake. There were mirrors covering the wall behind them to perfect and multiply the illusion of an endlessly burning light. She'd even conceived of a reflecting sequined dress that both Spencer and Caleb had considered excessive, tacky and incompatible with their pose as rock stars. Hanna had stood by her, though, but Spencer and Caleb had won. Anyway this was her creation. If only Ezra were here to see. But she had to do without him tonight. Pride invaded Aria because Spencer had finally given in to the idea despite her initial resistance and because Caleb had also agreed to do it, Hanna being the only one who had refused to go and stand up in front of the crowd. Hanna was actually a lot shyer than people thought. Well, Spencer could be shy too, only when she didn't dominate the task presented, which didn't happen very often. However, Aria knew Spencer listened to her and this gift was proof of it. They'd engaged in a long debate, up until they had reached that stage where they all agreed on the same things, even Hanna, although Spencer always had the last word. And Spencer had a beautiful, definitely intriguing voice. Aria had heard her tune on to different songs through the course of time and had always thought that could be another hidden talent of hers, one that Spencer apparently chose to ignore in the belief that a Hastings should dedicate her efforts to serious matters such as… well, studying and breaking into houses. But Spencer… she was having trouble right now. Aria knew Spencer wasn't drunk with Hanna's vodka or anything, but she seemed to be in need of screaming at somebody (and that somebody would be McCullers) and this gift had not certainly been thought through as a punk-rock performance, even if Aria had chosen her best badass skull T-shirt to wear on top of her synthetic leopard leggins. Had it been punk, she would've chosen a whole different scenario. But this was supposed to be intimate and bright, and it was perfect.
If only Ezra were here to see.
It wasn't every day that she got to perform in front of a crowd, even if this time she was only going to accompany another person with her musical skills.
"Hey!" She approached the microphone as a way to sum up the crowd. "You guys!"
The exclamation caused an strident screech which made Aria back off from the porous black device. However, everybody turned to watch them, and she spotted Emily advancing towards the stage with a startled expression. Paige McCullers followed her behind.
Aria crossed her fingers.
Spencer had better not start screaming I-hate-all-of-you punk-rock right now.
"Hey guys", Aria repeated, away from the microphone, "hey Em."
Some people shouted back hey in enthusiasm and encouragement. One whistled unsuccessfully before screaming in the direction of the stage.
"WHO'S THE HOT DUDE?"
And that was Hanna, of course.
"The hot dude's Caleb Rivers", Aria explained to the microphone, which was behaving well now that she'd found the appropriate separation between them, "on the guitar."
"Property of Hanna Marin!", Mona yelled in her characteristic Hanna-related happiness from her position next to the blonde. "Do not touch!"
"And no, we're not touching him", Aria winked in their direction, "we're just borrowing him for a little something we're offering you guys, only it's not for you guys, it's for Emily."
She directed her gaze to Emily, who had never looked more wide-eyed and wide-mouthed than at this very moment.
On the other hand, Spencer had never looked more terrified to be in front of a public audience, so Aria guessed she'd have to keep going although that was Spencer's cue to come in and take charge of the introduction.
A masculine voice asked what they were going to sing.
"You'll see what it is in a moment", Aria answered, still hoping for Spencer to speak, "you guys are gonna flip."
She should shut up. Spencer should talk.
Caleb shot her a weird glance, possibly implying it was impossible to flip with the song they were going to play tonight. Maybe she should have said they were going to love it? To melt with it? To drool over it?
"Em, this is for you", she rephrased, looking again at Emily, who finally managed to close her mouth and tentatively smile back, "we love you."
Apparently out of excitement over Emily's special birthday present, some people shouted Emily's name in a craze, followed by a happy birthday tune and what wanted to be a sexy whistle.
Someone asked if they were all going to strip down while singing happy birthday to Em.
Someone asked if Caleb was going to strip - and it wasn't Hanna.
Well, this was definitely causing a riot in the birthday crowd.
Emily herself seemed unsure about what to do, but she opened her mouth to blurt out something none of them could hear.
You're crazy.
That was what Aria could read on her lips, but she wasn't certain of it.
You're crazy.
Emily was looking at Spencer as her lips moved and, even if Aria couldn't totally grasp Emily's flow of emotions in detail because of the imposed lighted distance that was her artful creation, she was absolutely sure Emily was both blushing and beaming by now. Beaming in that bronze light that was typical of Emily's exotic beauty.
That was, precisely, what they were aiming for.
The sea of light, the abyss of love, was keeping them separated in more than one way.
But the wall of sound would reunite them.
Oh, how she loved this creation of hers.
Aria stole a glance at Spencer, checking out on her mental state that she couldn't totally grasp. All this power-couple trouble had to end at least for tonight. Besides, there was no better way to pee around Emily than to sing a song to her in front of everybody. Aria understood jealousy. She'd wanted to kill Jackie Molina when she'd found out she was working next to Ezra at Hollis; she'd wanted to kill Ezra too because he'd been engaged to her and he never told her, and not only that but all the rest, and that bitch… anyway that wasn't the problem right now. The problem was Spencer. Spencer had to sing. Spencer had to stop herself from exploding. It couldn't happen tonight. Not with this beautiful thing. This had to be an explosion of light. An implosion of light. What was the difference? She wished she could turn around and ask Spencer. But they were all in their posts and she couldn't move and ask such a question, so she decided to continue her speech and introduced Spencer, who still looked livid and stiff, as the main vocalist and herself on the keyboards and accompanying vocals, while praying to the deity of music and song for Spencer to recover her nerve.
Deity of music and song.
Was that Apollo?
Whatever it was, please make Spencer sound right.
If not, she would have to sing the song for Emily, which would look weird as hell, because, well… because. It was just not the right thing to do. But Spencer had made her promise in case she panicked. Aria knew Spencer never actually panicked, though.
Enthusiasm arose again after the introduction.
"KILL IT, HASTINGS", Mona cheered again, "PUMP UP THE WORLD!"
After Mona's creepy declaration of admiration for Spencer, there was a silence while the whole crowd seemed to wait for Spencer to finally take the lead and say the final word.
All Spencer did, however, was sit on a stool and adjust the microphone to her newfound shorter stature.
"Spence", Aria encouraged, "wanna say something before we go for it?"
Spencer nodded, clearing her throat.
"Yeah."
The answer sounded weak.
Spencer leaned down to drink from a bottle (which Aria hoped contained water), and straightened her posture on the stool.
Something in the air changed.
The classic ballerina got ready to shoot a rocket, and Aria smiled in pride for her friend.
Spencer took a long, quiet breath before fixating her ever powerful stare on the bronze statue of beaming light.
"This is dedicated to rusty bikes", she said slowly, "and to Emily Fields for her seventeenth birthday."
The most impressive silence conquered the room before Caleb strung the first chords of his guitar, a soft, timid tempo picking up and lasting for a few seconds on its own, almost like a shy knock on the door.
You could hear people holding their breath.
You could hear people not wanting to cough.
You could hear everybody shutting up, this amazing, breathtaking collection of silences only broken by this guy who took a candle in his hand and lifted his arm in the air, causing Aria to slightly frown at the disarrangement of her sea of lights before she got mesmerized by Spencer's murmur when the voice of her friend actually broke the ice to rasp the air, not a scream but a whisper stringing the same sounds Caleb was stealing from the guitar, neither an explosion nor an implosion but the most delicate hair-raising scratch Aria had ever heard in her life, coming from a person who usually went straight to the point with a direct punch. This was different, though. This was the real Spencer stripping down in front of an audience, and this was their gift, the gift Aria had convinced Spencer to offer to Emily in front of all these people, some of them still unknown to her, most of them greatly distrusted by her. In a haze, in a stormy haze, the voice trembled gently, wavering in uncertainty before managing to steady itself, I'll be around, I'll be loving you always, it enunciated in the best American-Shakespeare diction, and then the second always was slurred in a solid promise of infinity.
Always.
Guitar and voice knocking on Emily's door.
Emily's eyes welled up to the point she felt her lungs were going to stop breathing and her ears were going to block every sound with the emotion.
Here I am and I take my time.
Here I am and I wait in line.
Wait in line.
Spencer hated to wait in line. Spencer just never waited. And, when she actually had to wait, you had to feed her to prevent her from transforming into a bad mean cranky person.
Always.
Always.
She had nothing to grab to support herself, and she felt someone take her hand.
Rescue.
But she didn't want anyone's touch.
When she turned, it was Hanna squeezing her arm so strongly it hurt too much too, but it was only because she couldn't breathe and she was struggling to keep listening.
Guitar and voice flowed together in a common gentle dance to their end, like a trail of smoke, so sweet and shy, and was that everything there was to offer tonight, this whisper of a promise that was not trying to impose itself on anyone? This quiet knock in case you had heard. This anti-Caesar honest piece of stubbornness and pride. This slice of a naked Spencer they were all getting for free. It had only lasted some seconds, a minute maybe. Soon, before every sound disappeared and while nobody dared move or breathe, unable to discern if the song had already ended and that was it and if they should applaud the performance, the smoke immediately transformed into a stronger sound that created a completely different tempo. Aria and her keyboards came in with all the sassy naiveté Aria possessed, opening the door without asking for Emily's permission. Energy moved through the air while Caleb picked up on the new rhythm with the guitar. Dam, dam, dam. A harder knock, a set of resolved bangs. This was not timid but a firm declaration of instruments that was immediately summoned by the scratchy voice, which took over the pace and acutely tried to gain control of the battalion of sound while simultaneously commanding Emily, and everyone else around who was here to witness this moment of strip-down celebration, to look at the stars and see how they shone for Emily Fields, how they shone because Emily was once born and kept existing. And they were all yellow, Spencer sang in complete bravery now, exhaling more air and infusing more volume, attempting to really lead the vocal part of the song. All the stars in the night sky, orange and white and bluish and red and also yellow like the room created by Aria's imagination, and also Albireo, the double star, and all the people who had come to this party, they were all here because Emily existed, because Emily came into this earth to be illuminated by this light. I came along, I sang a song for you, Spencer unravelled in pure honesty, because that was what she was doing, she was singing right now, and all the things you do, all the things Emily ever did and all the things Spencer had ever done, and it was called yellow. The song was called like that.
Whatever yellow was.
This was Aria's cue to accompany Spencer and the two voices mutually joined with the absolute distinctiveness they owned, one sweet and melodious, the other one deep and low.
Your skin, your skin and bones, they sang in perfect unison, turn into something beautiful.
They were singing the same thing.
A beautiful brain.
A beautiful nose and a beautiful hand and a beautiful eye and beautiful abs and a beautiful heart.
Even a beautiful ass.
And rusty bikes.
Rusty bikes, not clumsy people.
Emily sobbed, and Hanna squeezed her tighter.
And you.
You know I love you so.
Emily did know, was sure of it, never once doubted it anymore.
Maybe she should doubt it, maybe she should get competition.
She didn't deserve a thing like this.
She was this crappy piece of a girlfriend right now, trying to get back on her feet and catch the train to the future.
Tears streamed along Emily's face, escaping the rigid control she'd come to master in the last weeks of her self-imposed downfall.
Yes, of course she knew.
She knew what Spencer meant.
She knew why Spencer was doing this.
Because she'd told her she was a star and no one else.
Because she was falling apart and on the verge of sinking for real in the disaster of high-school A-life, because Spencer was not going to let that happen to her, because she would always look out for her.
Because they were holding on to each other and that was what they did best, even if lately Emily wasn't doing it that well for Spencer and she couldn't stand it, even if Spencer was somehow not so sure of her, was she not so sure of her? Was that why she had danced with Brian Pierson, to put the pressure on her, to show off it took only a second to manage some competition, of which Emily was also certain and never once doubted? But now she wanted to make sure to tell her this was for her and they would always be them no matter how rusty the bike had gotten to be (it was Emily's fault), always, always?
Always.
Spencer's voice broke and fell out of tune for a moment before steadying itself again.
Her brown hair fell down in a cascade over the pale light on the left side of her face, partly covering the complicated nose like the crescent moon.
Always.
Whatever always was.
It's true, they sang in the final moments, look how they shine for you.
Yes, Emily knew what Spencer meant.
That the only reason Spencer was a star was because Emily had seen her.
That she shone for her.
Stars.
Stars and them.
This was the song she could have sung for Spencer if singing had ever occurred to her when she was thinking about presents on Spencer's birthday. Instead she gave her the star and the pendant. Words were not really her thing. But that was why Spencer was singing this to her. Spencer was a star. Spencer was her star.
Everything Spencer did she did for a reason and with a purpose.
It's true.
Everything Spencer did was meant to either show or hide a point.
Look how they shine for you.
She was showing all her points now, all her arguments and reasons.
She was showing all her cards.
She was also calling her on it, in a way, in the most special way she'd found.
Emily sunk her face on Hanna's neck while the song died its death in multiple, constant repetitions of the last line, and now she allowed Hanna to hug her. She hadn't been this close to Hanna in weeks. First Hanna had gotten rightfully pissed at her, and then she'd been keeping her distance from Hanna because Hanna also had the ability to either question her decision or break her with a silent look, like tonight she had murdered her with her blue rays in a couple of occasions just because she was talking to Paige in a corner instead of interacting with other people who had come.
But now.
Now.
She needed Hanna.
She knew Hanna's role was to get close to her and keep an eye on her.
"'S okay", Hanna shushed, both worried and surprised, "Em, it's not bad."
"I know", Emily sobbed more quietly, because obviously it was good and she was embarrassing herself so badly, "it's perfect."
Of course.
It was something Spencer was doing, so what else could it be?
Perfect.
Her star.
All the things they had done together.
All the things they had done alone.
"It's okay", Hanna repeated, wrapping her arms around Emily and sending a desperate look to Aria, "I told them to sing something happier and sexier."
"It's beautiful", Emily replied in a firmer voice, "and it's sexy too."
It was sexy too.
Because she was wearing that dress and singing with that voice.
But of course Hanna wouldn't get that.
The song ended and there was a huge applause, but it took only a moment for Spencer to get down the stage and run to Emily's side with an expression of panicked concern.
They fell into each other's arms as soon as Hanna released Emily.
"You're crazy."
"What's wrong?"
Emily felt Spencer's vague breath of alcohol on her cheek.
"Nothing."
"Why're you crying so hard?"
"When did you learn to sing?"
She sensed the shadow of Spencer's smile, and it made her smile too.
"Is it that bad?"
"No", Emily laughed, "no, it's that good."
Soon Aria and Caleb appeared and she hugged them too, and she thanked them too for this moment, but she was careful not to lose the grip on Spencer's hand this time.
Soon other people appeared, other people talking to both of them.
People.
People.
People talking, hugging, smiling - flattering them both.
She stole her, dragging her to the restroom with the excuse that she really needed to go fix her make-up after all that crying and sobbing. She stole her because she was hers to steal.
Securing the door, Emily returned Spencer's questioning gaze.
"Yellow?", Emily asked just to start conversation, her voice still nasal and congested after crying her heart out out there. "What's with that?"
"I know it's weird", Spencer nodded, letting herself be dragged closer to her. "I had this big argument with Aria because I didn't want you to think we were all dying of a liver infection, so that's how she came up with the idea for the candles… you know, so there's light, which is sort of yellow, right?"
Of course Spencer had to have the whole song figured out before singing it.
Emily could feel her spirit skyrocketing for one single night, and she laughed at Spencer's comment.
"So the song was Aria's choice?"
"No, it was mine", Spencer replied, smiling back in satisfaction, "but I made up a list of songs for you and we chose together, Han too."
"So there's more for me?"
"There's a list."
"Where?"
"My room."
"Can I ever see it?"
She wanted to see it so badly.
She wanted to go back to that room so badly right now.
"Yeah."
"And can I get a private concert?"
The small smirk on Spencer's lips.
So lovely.
"Maybe."
They stared at each other for a long moment until Emily pulled her even closer.
"So this was my birthday present?"
"One of them."
"This dress too."
She made sure to sound close to dirty. She hadn't totally forgotten how to try.
"You noticed?"
"How could I ever forget?"
"My legs."
"Your legs."
It was about time to tell the truth about the dress and that night.
"I knew it."
"You win."
Spencer hummed, suspicious of an easy victory. "Are you making it up?"
She closed the distance and tasted the alcohol in Spencer's mouth.
"When did you drink?"
Spencer looked down, her cheeks firing pink. "I had some of Hanna's vodka to sort of get the courage to do it."
Her eyes went darker, though.
"You were scared?"
"It's not like I know how to sing."
"It's more like you also know how to sing."
"So you liked it?"
Like?
It was more than that. She felt broken and happy at the same time. It was strange, this night.
"You're more skin and bones than me, you know."
She knew she was offering herself for a lecture which she was going to love.
"We're all skin and bones cause we're all human", Spencer started, apparently unaware of Emily's trick, "but the song's telling you you're more than that, everything else is less than you, everything's here for you, and you outlast every beautiful thing in the world."
Wow.
Spencer did know how to make a speech.
"Everything else is less than me?"
"Yeah."
"I don't agree with that."
"Blame the song."
"So you're the star who's shining for me?"
This time Emily went straight for it and the dark hazel shade danced in response.
"Sort of, yeah", Spencer admitted, "that's it."
"Learned the lesson."
"One of them."
"When can I get the rest?"
"Tomorrow", Spencer pulled back a little, obviously pretending to leave it for later. "Homework."
Emily knew Spencer was pulling that one off to make her ask for the presents directly.
"Fine", she shrugged, accepting the bet, "tomorrow."
"Wanna see them now?"
There was never a doubt Spencer was the anxious one. No matter how much she sang about it, she didn't know how to take her time and wait in line without getting extremely impatient.
Emily secretly smiled at the realization of a new victory.
They left the restroom and walked together towards a door in front of which Spencer stopped, looking around suspiciously as she pulled out a key.
Inside, everybody had put their presents.
The room looked like a candy store.
Colors.
Blues, greens, reds.
Whites.
Everything was so shiny and life-inspiring. So celebrating and birthday-singing and yet so hidden and left apart, their own personal bubble in the roaring bar where Katy Perry was singing to the one that got away.
Closing the door behind her, Emily observed Spencer reach out over a sea of presents for a fashionable Vera Wang bag.
"Vera Wang?"
"What?" Spencer glanced down at the bag. "It's Hanna's. She gave it to me."
It made sense.
They both seemed to think about what to do next. Spencer was considering different possibilities, her brain working too fast on them.
"It's nothing fancy", she finally said, "and they're not cute like the ones you gave me."
Was that insecurity?
Yes, it was.
She was nervous.
So lovely.
"They?"
Spencer narrowed her eyes. "You were so sure, huh?"
Emily giggled. "I was", she certified. "But after what you just did I expect more than fancy and cute, I expect royally awesome." Nothing could ever beat that song, which had been completely unexpected. But she was going to enjoy this ride of presents. "Can I see?"
Spencer nodded, obviously accepting it was up to Emily to judge the quality and opportunity of every present.
"It's not like the song", she affirmed anyway, pulling out the first present from the bag like a skinny and beardless Santa Claus, "I mean, really, they're not like yours."
"Are you competing with me?"
Spencer smiled a little. "Probably."
"Well, in that case", Emily replied, taking the gift covered in a formal brown paper in her hand and trying to get a peek out of the Vera Wang bag, "I believe we can agree you already won, so just let me open it and see."
Because of its shape and general look, Emily knew it was a book even before touching it.
Obviously.
"Heart is a lonely hunter 2?", she joked, knocking softly on it to prove it made an opaque sound. "Older edition?"
Spencer shook her head, watching her intensely. "I have more imagination than that."
Emily eagerly ripped off the paper.
An old hard-cover copy of Julius Caesar.
"Not much more, though", Spencer anxiously added, observing Emily open the book, "I mean, I know it's not romantic or anything. It's kinda not romantic at all, it's…"
"Shakespeare."
Shakespeare was better than Dickens.
Spencer sent her the kind of look that said she had guessed that thought and agreed with it.
"I realize it's kinda not okay because you were drunk the night you quoted the play but..."
"I did not quote Julius Caesar", Emily laughed, "but it is okay."
She didn't exactly remember that part of the night very well. She did remember Spencer had lectured her on some secrets of the play, though.
Spencer opened her mouth in shock.
"You so totally did."
"I remember you talked to me about the play."
"Beware the Ides of March, Spencer", Spencer recited Emily's quotation that night, "that's what you said when I found you. My heart was gonna be murdered that night by my own personal Emily Brutus."
Ouch.
"Emily Brutus sounds bad."
"Sorry about that, but you did imply it." Spencer smiled brightly. "Emily Gracious sounds better, but you said it anyway."
"I was drunk", Emily argued, smiling in return to the Gracious remark, "plus, I kinda think that line's not Brutus'."
She did remember it from the times she read the play in class. Some kind of fortune teller kept warning Caesar about the act of treason the senators were going to commit.
"So you do admit to quoting the play?"
Yes, all right.
"You told me you were Rome."
"I had to use a very complicated line of reasoning to drag you out of that parking lot." She seemed to realize something. "Like tonight."
That was true.
"You're not Caesar", Emily said, reflecting on it, "you're more like Marc Anthony."
Spencer cocked her brow. "The singer?"
"What?"
Spencer let out a brief laugh, enjoying the confusion on Emily's face.
"And why the change?"
"Not the singer", Emily protested, not really sure who Spencer was talking about, but then proceeded to explain, "he wins the war, doesn't he?"
It turned out she remembered more things about the play she originally thought. Probably because of that night she had to keep talking about it to her parents, in Texas, during the summer.
After that restroom experience.
Oh, god.
"Yes, he does."
"There you go."
"I love how you keep reshaping Shakespeare and suiting him to your momentary needs."
Emily smiled in all slyness. "You just turned Julius Caesar into a romantic play, so I figured I could change some things too."
"Funny."
But they weren't exactly laughing about it.
"So?"
"So", Spencer continued, "my point here, I guess, is this is actually romantic because… well, the night was supposed to be a disaster but…"
When she stuttered like this.
So lovely.
So fucking lovely.
"It was our first time."
Pink.
"Exactly."
"Nothing can beat that", Emily smiled, feeling strange happy tears stinging her eyes while her heart raced in her chest, wanting to get close to erase the bad moments of their relationship with new kisses and new first times, "right?"
Spencer looked relieved, as though she had passed the first obstacle.
"That's what I figured."
"I love it."
"Really? I mean, it's kinda nerdy."
"I love nerdy when it's your nerdy."
Spencer approached her, leaving the bag behind. "There's something else inside."
Emily had already closed the book, but she opened it again.
"A dedication?"
Grabbing the book gently and offering it back once she had selected the first page, Spencer pointed at her neat, clean handwriting in black ink.
"It's not mine, it's Shakespeare again", she whispered, "Sonnet 18." Smirking in all self-contentment, she made her point. "And that is romantic."
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?", Emily read aloud, trying to enunciate the words properly. "It was the summer, our first time."
She looked up at Spencer, who took a moment to remember the rest.
"But thy eternal summer shall not fade, nor lose possession of that fair thou owest." Spencer paused, wondering if she should go on or stop there. She decided to stop and explain it. "And all that poetic jazz which basically translates as you're the most beautiful person ever and your beauty will be saved forever in this sonnet, which is also less than you, because everything else is less than you in my eyes."
Less than you.
Always.
In my eyes.
This time it was Emily who felt the blush creeping up her cheeks, and she tried to swallow it down.
"Again with the beauty."
"In a very broad sense."
Spencer probably felt forced to clarify that after the look-yourself-in-the-mirror joke earlier tonight.
"How broad?"
"Very, very broad."
"As in you're-too-good broad?"
Spencer seemed to be caught in surprise for a second. "Yes."
Emily gave a shy nod, feeling really not that beautiful in the most important sense, feeling she was lucky to be told these things by the most significant person in her life, feeling though that she needed to do something else, say something equally grand in response, turn into someone equally magnificent to the person she had in front of her.
Before she could utter a word of true gratitude Spencer reached out for the bag and pulled out the next present. This one was wrapped in a cute Toy Story gift paper. She was missing the cuteness in the gift-paper department up until this moment.
It was a plain box from where little Buzz Lightyears and little Woodys smiled.
"So cute", Emily exclaimed, admiring the paper, "another one to save."
Spencer handed out the box.
"I looked for a Sherlock and Watson one, but I couldn't find it."
"I'm surprised you didn't go for a Shakespeare one", Emily mocked her, "or for a Churchill one."
"Didn't find those either."
"This one's cuter."
She took a long time to unwrap the box because she did want to keep this gift paper.
The Ides of March' DVD.
It was amazing. All the arranged set of presents had a meaning to their story, even the gift paper.
"We can finally see the movie", Emily said, but tried to give it another turn, "or not."
"It's kinda foolish, I know", Spencer replied, her forehead creasing as if she wasn't entirely pleased with her own decisions, "but I thought we could, you know, watch it someday." She seemed to give it some consideration. "Or not, like you just said."
They were really rusty.
But there was something off too. Maybe it was Spencer's nervousness over the presents. She was the kind of person who put a lot of pressure on herself in order to find perfection. Emily wondered how long Spencer had been thinking about this and trying to fit every little detail to compose a coherent whole, then questioning if it was the best she could actually do.
"I'd rather go for the or not part of watching it", Emily tried harder, bordering the dirty-talk possibility. When could they notwatch it? Tomorrow wasn't a good day because they were supposed to do homework before dinner and her academic survival was at stake. If only it could happen tonight. That was what she wanted. "It'd be great to watch it tonight."
God, just the thought of it made her see stars. Stars shining for her and inside of her and all she wanted was to spend some time looking at them, or rather touching them.
"We can always visit the restroom again."
A furious blush covered her cheeks and nose after Spencer's direct blow.
"There's also this room."
Spencer gave her a weird look, both questioning and fiery. There was caution in that look too; surprise; an odd intensity, similar to anger and passion when they fought or when they made love; things Emily didn't exactly know how to name, but wanted to find a response to. However, instead of finding a response to her doubts, Emily saw Spencer lean down and reach for another present. It was a much smaller box, wrapped in the same Toy Story paper, and Spencer extended her arm as if the gift was burning her hand.
"This is the last one."
Emily nodded, taking the offering but staring at Spencer. What was going on? Was this because of the presents or because of the almost blunt allusion to sex?
"What is it?", she stupidly asked.
"Just open it", Spencer said nervously, "if you don't like it I can go change it."
Nervousness again.
What for?
The presents were all adorable and meaningful just like Spencer was. They were a reminder of everything they had. There was no reason for her not to like them.
"Why wouldn't I like it?"
Spencer frowned. She seemed worried about it. "I got it a while ago."
"So?"
She opened the box quickly, not caring about the paper this time. She wanted to see why Spencer was worried and show her she was going to love anything she gave her. Inside the box there was a silver bracelet, from which it hanged a small dolphin.
No, not a dolphin.
A shark.
A shark which could be confused with a dolphin with a little cute fin and little cute slits. It was the first time she saw something like this. That was why Spencer was so worried.
"Wow."
"We can change it, as I said", Spencer was fast to add, "I mean… I got it before you quit."
She looked up from the shark to her, wanting to sound reassuring. "I don't wanna change it."
"You don't have to feel forced to accept it."
Was the swim team the cause of all this?
"Spencer, it's beautiful", Emily raised her voice a little, "and I would never change it. How could you find something like this?"
"I had it made."
"Seriously?"
"I had this silver key my dad gave me years ago", Spencer explained, "you know, after I won a trophy at this spelling contest, but I couldn't find anything so personal that was mine to give you, so I had this idea of a thing that would be unique, you know, no one else could have it, and I thought about having it made into a star so it would suit your idea of me or whatever, but I wanted it to be about you, not about me, so I came up with this." She stopped to breathe. "And then you quit."
All the things they had done together. All the things they had done alone.
Emily swallowed tears.
"It's…" She'd run out of words, but she had to find them. "Sounds like something you'd do."
"I thought about changing it but then…"
This constant sorry, this off feeling - it had to end. She couldn't believe Spencer was feeling so troubled because of this, and it had to be her fault.
She took a step forward, stopping really close.
"Thank you."
Then she closed the bracelet around her wrist, hoping it would put down all of Spencer's worries.
"At this point I'm incredibly glad that you don't hate it."
It sounded a little too dry.
"How could I hate it?", Emily asked, and she felt this question was condensing a heavy meaning that could be key to their problem. "I mean, it's super cute… and you're giving it to me, and I…"
She couldn't end the sentence.
"You what?"
"I was a shark."
"You're still one", Spencer said, her voice trembling a little, "cause there's more than one meaning to it."
They locked eyes.
"What's the other meaning?", Emily asked with drained curiosity. Go figure whatever Spencer had thought about this. "That I eat fish?"
"That you're brave."
Emily hated the constant sensation of tears overflowing her throat because right now she just wanted this awkwardness gone between them.
Weak-link.
And all the things that you do.
Spencer.
"You're the only thing I wanna be brave about."
It sounded so heartfelt it took Spencer by surprise.
"You've always been brave about me", Spencer offered, smiling faintly, "my love shark."
They laughed a little.
"Why're you so nervous?"
Spencer exhaled all the air she'd seemingly held in her lungs for the last couple of minutes.
"You noticed?"
"You look like you're giving me a ticking bomb, Spencer."
Spencer looked away, pursing her lips a little. "It's the presents", she explained, "I just… I wasn't sure they were the right ones."
Fingers dared touching fingers.
"There's something else, right?"
"It's tonight", Spencer answered after an instant of hesitation, not shying away, "it's been a difficult night."
Lifting her hand to Spencer's jaw, Emily caressed the pale skin.
"Hey, it's me."
"I know it's you", Spencer replied, her tone low but strained, "it's the same you who didn't wanna be in Rosewood tonight."
Emily guessed the plan had been complicated to execute, given her whiny reticence to set a foot on their hometown.
"It's still me."
She leaned in for a soft kiss, which was timidly returned this time.
"You're not hating all of this?", Spencer tried to confirm again. "For real?"
"You're my birthday present", Emily answered instead, "you're the only present I want."
The words were powerful because the kiss that followed them was considerably more passionate and heated.
But Spencer broke it off.
Apparently she wasn't entirely convinced yet.
"We should go back to the party."
"We're gonna go back in a second", Emily tried to hold her, "let's stay one more minute."
A second.
A minute.
Sixty seconds. Hours. Days, weeks, months. All the time.
Spencer stayed, her fingers landing on Emily's purple dress.
"And this dress?", she asked with playful interest. "I've never seen it before."
"It's new. I bought it for our fake night out."
She bought it for Spencer, because Spencer had complained about her never wearing sexy dresses for her after that awful night when she chased A in the woods and got ambushed and Spencer found her and then they talked about the girl in the bar.
Supermodel dress, Spencer had said in reproach-mode.
"It's…" Spencer dedicated some time to think of the word, which was strange for her, "you look absolutely stunning."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Am I?"
Spencer looked intrigued by the question. "Always."
Always.
Always was good, but what about now? What about this moment - tonight - this minute?
"I wanna sleep with you so bad", Emily blurted out, feeling excessively bold and also maybe too dirty because she was saying it like this and not in a tricky, not-watch-the-movie way, "can't we sleep together tonight?"
Spencer raised her flag-brows. "You mean sleep-sleep? Or sex?"
"What do you think I mean?"
"I think you mean sex."
"And you are right."
Spencer's fingers travelled up the dress, causing an inner revolution in Emily's body.
"I also want to", she whispered almost shyly, "but we can't tonight."
Emily knew. Her parents were here and she had to stay with them at the hotel.
The idea of this room wildly crossed her mind, and not as a dare.
But it was crazy.
It was crazy.
She leapt on her, attacked her, bounced on her like a dog on a cat or a cat on a mouse, and Spencer moaned in surprise as she quickly tried to readjust her position not to fall on the sea of presents. It was a full-on real kiss, and there was nothing shy or reserved about it. Make-up was ruined for both of them. Rust was cleaned up and erased. The remnants of Hanna's vodka were passed from one mouth to the other. Now or never always meant now.
Always meant now.
Their foreheads touched when they both stopped to breathe.
"So I guess you did like the presents", Spencer said, her lips parted to receive the next kiss, "didn't you?"
"I liked them."
"That's a pretty clear statement."
"I'm a pretty clear kisser."
Spencer blinked. "You used to be."
Wait.
"I used to be?"
Was she that rusty?
"Can I ask you a question?"
Emily pulled away a little, a premonition in her heart.
"Sure."
"Is there a reason you're kissing me like this when you've hardly kissed me in the last three weeks?"
Not a premonition, but a tinge of remorse.
"We're kissing."
"Yeah, tonight", Spencer accused, "but what about all those other days I've practically had to chase you around to get a minimum percentage of pecks on the lips?"
"No", Emily denied, "it's never been like that."
"Never?"
She swallowed not the constant tears but the boldness and the craziness and the remorse at once.
"It's…"
"I just wanna know why."
"You've never had to chase me."
Spencer stared straight at her, her posture suddenly tense. "Can we focus on the facts?"
Taking a couple of steps back in resignation, Emily nodded. She guessed this was where the whole condensation of meaning was heading for the last while, not to heavy make-out.
"You're right", she admitted, "but it's… I can't explain why."
"You can try."
Emily nodded again, crossing her arms.
"Sex doesn't solve problems", she said out loud, almost as if she were repeating a lesson, "I know it sounds stupid, but you said that and…"
Spencer widened her eyes after taking the words in. "So it's my fault?"
"No, no, it's not, it's mine, it's… I'm stupid."
"I said that in a very specific moment."
"Yeah, and I thought about it and..."
"I never said it with the purpose of turning sex into another problem for us", Spencer fired back, raising her voice in astonishment. She was obviously expecting another answer. "And since when is a kiss sex in your own set of definitions?"
Since never.
But Spencer was really upset about it. So maybe it wasn't only the presents and maybe it wasn't only the swim team but also the kiss and everything else (sex) and she wasn't as stupid and blind as to not guess it was hurting her.
She was a crappy piece of a girlfriend.
"A kiss is not sex."
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
"But it makes me think about it", Emily tried to explain, her voice shaky, "constantly."
Spencer seemed truly surprised. "So when it makes you think about it you decide to stop kissing me altogether?"
"I never decided that."
"Fine, I'm sorry, let me rephrase", Spencer used her best analytical attack-mode voice, "you just happened to stop it and I didn't get to know why, so I had to fight for every touch of your lips and then feel embarrassed and creepy about it because I was thinking you probably were feeling too bad about quitting the team, or too mad at me for whatever I had done or said?" She shot her a piercing look. "Does that sound better to you?"
Emily looked down to the floor covered of presents, trying to hide from the bullets.
But no hiding was justifiable now.
Love-shark.
She stared back into Spencer's fiery eyes.
"It was never about something you had done."
"Then it was about something you had done."
The swim team.
"Yes", Emily accepted, "about my decision to quit, and I knew you didn't agree with me and I didn't wanna use sex to change your mind so I just tried to control myself, and…"
"Use sex?", Spencer interrupted. "Do you use sex to change my mind about things?"
"No, I don't, I just…"
"Emily, what the hell are you talking about?"
Emily leaned back against the door and grunted in frustration, feeling like the most stupid and unwillingly cruel person in the world. She knew Spencer couldn't take rejection, yet she made her feel rejected even if all she was trying to do was not to… god, she couldn't even explain what she was trying to do anymore.
"I don't know", she answered, "it made sense somehow, that I… we didn't agree, and I didn't wanna use sex to hide from the problem against you..."
"Against me?"
"You said I could jump like a monkey and you'd still like me."
Spencer widened her eyes again, frowned like she was squeezing her brain to a limit, and raised her voice all at once.
"That meant something completely different!"
"I know", Emily replied in true remorse, "but somehow I couldn't stop thinking about sex so I tried to control it until our problem was solved and we agreed on it, but the problem was never solved and we have another problem now." Okay, at least she'd tried to explain her decision in its absolute stupidity. "But I never wanted you to think I didn't wanna kiss you, cause that's all I want to do all the time."
Absolute, absolute stupidity.
"That's what you want to do all the time?"
Spencer didn't seem so upset anymore, just completely confused.
"More than that."
"More than that?"
Sometimes she felt like she was going to lose it in school and go plain crazy in a sexual rage for Spencer, so she had to keep thinking about something else, but then she couldn't really stand thinking about the swim team either and sex and the swim team had been forbidden from her thoughts. Still they kept trying to make their way back all the time.
"I'm sorry."
"No, don't be sorry, just explain it to me."
"I just wanted to swim first, get the HGH solved, and you were always busy too, but that's… there's nothing to explain except I can't think straight."
Spencer burst out in laughter.
"It's not funny", Emily warned, "really, it's not."
"I know it's not."
But she was laughing.
"I wanted to fix things tonight", Emily continued, "I bought this dress, I thought maybe after dinner, and then when you brought me here I thought maybe after the party or even during the party…" She trailed off, amazed at her own craziness. "Shit."
"Jesus, Emily."
"I am sorry", Emily repeated, "but if it makes you feel better, I'm the creep."
"Well, you're really good at covering it up."
"You're not that bad yourself."
"No, trust me, there's a winner here and it's you."
Yay.
Spencer leaned against the wall, apparently trying to relax. She looked slightly amused.
"I'm sorry I talked to you like that", she said, her expression a mix of contrition and amusement. "It's your birthday and I promised myself I wouldn't bring it up tonight." She paused, reflecting on her own faults. "It must've been Hanna's vodka."
"Is that why you danced with Brian Pierson?", Emily took the chance to ask.
Pink.
That was a yes.
"Is that his name?"
"It looked like he was keeping you entertained."
Something in her eyes. Again that caution, that odd fiery intensity, that angry hesitation.
"He was", Spencer confirmed after a moment, "but you were pretty much getting your own sort of entertainment."
"What do you mean?"
She'd been talking to a group of swimmers and to Paige.
"I mean Paige McCullers."
Bingo.
"Oh."
So this part of their conversation was going to be about Paige? But she wasn't dancing with Paige. She was just talking to her about the swim team. And Paige had talked to her about this Olympic pool in Thomas of Aquinas college where they could go if she wanted to give swimming a try far from Rosewood High.
"Did you two reach a conclusion about the track team you're thinking of joining?"
Shit.
"How do you know about that?"
"She told me herself", Spencer commented, her penetrating gaze gaining an intensity almost unknown to Emily, "I'm guessing she assumed I knew about it, but she was wrong."
"She told me you invited her in person."
"I did."
The voice sounded metallic.
"I was pretty surprised you did."
"Really?"
Emily decided it was time to try a new physical approach. A subtle one. So she took a couple of steps in Spencer's direction.
"It's good."
"What is?"
"That you're talking to her."
"Why?", Spencer shot, tensing up. "Because I'm supposed to talk to your new best friend?"
No, then it wasn't good.
"Why do you still hate her?"
"I don't hate her", Spencer denied, her jaw clenching, "I hate that you're talking to her and not to me or to Hanna and Aria."
"I'm not talking to her."
"But you told her about joining the track team, you told her you were missing the pool."
Emily felt her legs go Jell-O.
One thing was the kiss-sex rejection, but this part was menacing to get worse.
"I haven't made up my mind yet", she mumbled, "and the track team's a stupid idea."
"It's a stupid idea you're telling Paige about."
"It's a stupid idea I told Paige when I ran into her in the pool."
"About which you never told me either."
"If you knew about it, why didn't you ask me directly?"
"Cause I'm getting tired of running after you for answers."
Punch.
The tears didn't sting, they just flowed out again, and Emily turned her head away.
"I guess that's what your always means."
Spencer jumped to grab her wrist quickly. "Sorry."
"No, just say it", Emily defied her, "you obviously need it."
"I didn't mean it."
"Why am I being interrogated for talking to Paige when I'm not even really talking to her?"
"You spent the first hour of this party talking to her, Emily."
"About the swim team!", Emily high pitched in despair. "And if you don't want me talking to her about that, why the hell did you invite her to my party? So I can give you the pleasure of ignoring her? Is that what you want?"
"Why did I invite her?", Spencer repeated, her voice still controlled. "Are you asking me that question?"
"Yes."
"For you", Spencer said, throwing her arms in the air in impotence, as if it was an evidence of the purest type. "For you, because you obviously like her and care about her."
"So why are we fighting about this?", Emily shot back. "Is it really that important?"
"It is if you're hiding information from me and every true friend you have!"
Hiding information?
She hated it when Spencer exaggerated things to win an argument.
"Are you sure this is not about you being jealous?"
Spencer backed off at the question, but only for a second.
"No", she said slowly, but then looked away and bit her lip in nervousness. "Yes."
Emily felt herself softening up to the ambiguous confession.
"I don't like her that way, Spencer."
"But you did."
"In the past."
Spencer seemed to be lost in a struggle to understand her own feelings about this.
"It's not only that", she finally uttered, "I mean, it's… You practically had me banned from your body and mind in the last weeks and now you're talking to her."
Gosh.
Emily knew she was being a crappy girlfriend, but the banning-thing was just too big an accusation.
"I'm not talking to her like you think I am."
Spencer shot her a disbelieving look. "Why are you even talking to her at all? I don't get it."
"You don't get what?"
"You", Spencer said, leaning her back against the wall again. "I don't get you. I mean, this girl tried to drown you once. And then she basically tried to drive you out of this continent to date you, Emily, when she should probably crawl every time she sees you." She took a pause to think of her own words. "Which she probably does when she's swimming."
Emily opened her mouth, but the words didn't come out easily.
"Why is this important again?"
"Because I don't get it."
"Well, there's nothing to get", Emily answered, the anger coming back, "she was going through some really serious stuff at that point in her life and she's not that person anymore."
Spencer faked a sarcastic smile. "Great, now you defend her. Hello, Stalin."
"Excuse me?" Blood ran to Emily's head upon hearing the Stalin remark. "Are you calling me Stalin? Or her?"
"I'm saying you'd probably find an excuse for Stalin's slightly odd behaviour", Spencer hit back, "hey, he murdered thirty million people, but Emily says he was going through a hell of a lot when he realized he was short and he wanted to have sex with other short people."
Emily rolled her eyes explicitly. Besides, she was pretty sure Stalin had not murdered people basing on the fact that he was short; or gay; or whatever.
"So you mean she is Stalin."
"Just… will you stop defending her?"
"I'll stop defending her when you stop trying to make it look like this is about her when it's actually about us."
"Right."
"No, don't right me, Spencer, just tell me what it is."
"I told you what it is."
"Then let's forget about Paige and let's focus on us."
"That's all I want you focused on."
"So let's focus."
They focused on each other, but neither of them knew what to say next.
It was Spencer who tried again.
"Look, Emily", she started, and Emily could see she wasn't closing the topic yet, "I know what it is to feel unwanted too, okay?"
"Will you stop competing with Paige?"
"All I'm saying", Spencer went on, not paying attention to Emily's plea, "is this is not some kind of privilege that only people who have lesbian crushes and swimming skills get to enjoy and understand, all right? I can understand things too", she insisted, scowling as if she was truly offended by it. "But I'm not gonna be sorry for being the person I am."
The strangest combination of sensations invaded Emily.
For once, she wanted to strangle Spencer. But she also wanted to laugh at her comment. And then she also wanted to hug her because she'd said she'd also felt unwanted and Emily knew why that had happened and who was to blame. And then there was this other thing that kept bothering her even when they were fighting: she still wanted to have sex with her here and now, although it seemed unlikely it was going to happen at all.
Finally, she wanted to slap herself for being guilty of this catastrophe.
"I don't want you to be sorry for being the person you are", Emily said, pronouncing every word as clearly as possible. "I lovewho you are, and sometimes, trust me, you can be an idiot."
Spencer arched her brow at the insult. "Thanks for the kind words."
"Spencer, you are not waiting in any line", Emily answered, trying to use the song Spencer sang for her to explain her words better, "you are first in line, and in fact there's no line at all, so will you just shut up and believe it?"
"I believe it."
"Then shut up."
They both shut up, Emily out of exhaustion and Spencer out of astonishment.
"I can't believe I totally blew this up", Spencer blurted out with a sudden look of terror, "I totally blew my own plan up."
Emily, who was leaning against the wall too, turned to look at her.
"You blew what up?"
"Your birthday."
"It's fine."
"Aria's gonna kill me", Spencer said. "Not to mention Hanna's constant violent threats."
Remembering Hanna's murderous looks tonight, Emily had a feeling Hanna would be more on Spencer's side on this one.
"Hanna's on your side."
"That's until she finds out about this."
"Spencer, you didn't blow it up alone."
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"Yes, cause we're together in this", Emily whispered, approaching her again and touching the fabric of her dress, "and it's fine."
"It's not fine, it's wrong", Spencer answered, frowning. "I'm getting paranoid."
Taking Spencer's hand in hers, Emily drove it back to her own dress and placed it on her stomach.
"Feel that?"
Spencer stared questioningly. "Linen?"
"Every time you're close", Emily said, squeezing Spencer's hand against her stomach, "I get this giant butterfly inside."
The corner of Spencer's mouth twitched up. "A giant butterfly?"
"A flock of them."
"Are they rusty giant butterflies?"
"They're not rusty, they're just getting pretty nervous in there."
Spencer grinned, and her jaw relaxed as she leaned her head softly back against the wall.
"You should see what I have inside my stomach."
"What is it?"
"It's probably a flock of vultures."
Emily couldn't help but laugh. "That's crazy."
"And they're hungry."
"Mine too", Emily dared saying, the butterfly-hormones becoming revolutionized again. "Can they fly together?"
"You mean procreate?", Spencer asked, turning to look at her again. "You're getting strangely deep with your metaphors for sex tonight."
"I said it in every possible way."
The hazel shade danced again, illuminating the pale-moon face. "Come here."
She did.
The butterflies in her stomach exploded as their tongues slowly met to make peace, so sweet, always so sweet she couldn't believe she'd been able to postpone it for so long. She didn't hope for a sexual session of actual procreation of flocks tonight but at least this kiss was something, or it was until they heard a knock on the door. A timid knock. A timid naked knock like Spencer's knock on her door when she started singing, unwanted Spencer who was actually wanted beyond all limits and rules, waiting-in-line, taking-her-time Spencer getting impatient with her hungry vulture which Emily wanted to feed right now, feed before midnight, shining Spencer forcing her to look at the stars and to get blinded by them, to burn in them, to get shot in them.
Spencer broke the kiss off.
"Yeah?", she asked in a loud voice. "Who is it?"
Aria's big eyes appeared, a hand covering her face to prevent her from witnessing an unforgettable sight.
"I don't really want to interrupt what I hope is an actual make-out session", she said, "but Hanna's threatening to kill you both if you don't come back for the cake."
"Shit."
"We'll be right there", Emily promised, "sorry."
Aria nodded and closed the door.
"They probably think we've been having sex the whole time."
"I wish I could think so too", Emily said, smoothing out her new dress. "Can we just…?"
Could it happen tomorrow? Or tonight between the party and the hotel? But she didn't know how to ask. She was supposed to be the shy, sensible, well-behaved one.
"We need to talk first."
Huge butterfly let-down.
Super bike fall-off.
"Okay."
"I want to, I'm dying to", Spencer said, realizing Emily's crestfallen face, "but we really need to clear some things up before we… you know, let the birds do the flying."
"Yes, I know."
"I'm gonna go completely insane if we don't talk."
"Yes, we're gonna talk."
"We need to have a common strategy on what to do about the team", Spencer continued anxiously, "and I really, really need to know how you're feeling about all of this, and…"
"Spencer, I said yes."
Spencer gave a satisfied nod. "Great."
"It's fine."
"Then we can find a place for…"
"After talking."
"Right after."
Emily smiled, enjoying Spencer's anxiety in that area too. "Yeah."
She made the effort to move first, since all of this was her fault and since this party had been celebrated in her honor. But she made sure to hold Spencer's hand all the way back to the restroom to finally fix her make-up. She squeezed it, she tightened it, and Spencer squeezed and tightened in response. Hanna appeared, though, to freak out at them and also to steal them, but she allowed Emily to spend five more minutes in front of the mirror because fixing a destroyed make-up was a kind of urgency Hanna felt sympathy for, especially if the make-up destroyed was that one of the birthday person. Spencer was robbed with the promise of a prompt return.
Emily sat on the toilet-seat cover, thinking about this strange night.
They had to talk.
She had to talk to Spencer about what was going on inside her.
But what was going on inside her was mainly a negative feeling of failure and basically the conviction that she was a huge fuck-up: she didn't exactly know how to confront it.
She wasn't going back to the swim team yet. But she had to start training on her own.
Her phone beeped.
She knew.
"Happy b-day, Emily. It's time for multiple choice test. - A"
Looking at herself in the mirror to finally fix her mascara and lipstick, she found the reflection of a person staring back at her. A person who had already fucked up enough. A person who was going to fuck up again. Always. Always. The most beautiful person – in a very broad sense – in the world.
A/N 2: Title taken from "Parachutes", song by Coldplay.
The songs Spencer, Aria and Caleb play are "Parachutes" and "Yellow", by Coldplay.
AN 3: sieamberc: Thanks for the kind words and for the idea you inadvertently gave me! See the shark? xD
nude as the news: I totally agree. I'm not proud of the last two or three chapters. I thank you for your review because criticism definitely fuels my motivation, so thanks a lot for pointing that out. The "former best friend" line was totally intended to bother the reader, though... since the characters are having trouble with the fact that they ARE best friends but also something else.
theninemuses7: I'm going to be blatantly honest too :) "You are telling the story of two flawed people with the right intentions" is probably the only thing that's been said to me that actually makes me want to finish the story even if it's not all that easy to finish it exactly like I wanted to :) Because that's exactly what I'm trying to write, I'm happy you pointed that out to me. Thank you.
Jabbie: Yes, it was meant to be obsessive :) Thanks so much for those kind words :)
Guest: LOL "In canon, I'm like "SPENCER! Stop being Spencer." Just like me, yes. That was funny. Season finale was... I'm still recovering from that.
dmpanda5: :) Yes, it's time... but is A gonna let a quiet talk happen? Hmmmm.
Joylinda: Every time someone tells me that they read Speeding Up and are reading this one now, they put a smile on my face, so thank you for writing that :) Although I must confess I feel AWFUL because I kept you waiting forever, but well...
LaughLoveLiveXx: You can hopefully see more of that irony in this one... I think it's better conveyed here :) And you're totally right, the reference to the world was not geographical, and Spencer totally miscalculated her own feelings when she invited Paige.
LittleLiarLovesEmily: :) thanks for everything
Guest: LOL that's funny because I don't consider that chapter a very good one :)
Maxi-Luca: what can I say? I hate italics since Speeding Up xD
spicy emily: Thank you for giving me the idea and sorry I couldn't use any of the songs you requested. I actually wanted to use the Jason Mraz one cause it was perfect for the story, but it was too wordy and I was getting lost to use the lyrics, so I tried to use a simpler one. Anyway... hope you don't hate it :)
Mona: Ohhh, I missed you! :) You're gonna get A messing up...