as usual... sorry about the wait :(
Ch 9
I bite down on my thumb nail, which is weird for me. I've never been a nail-biter, but recently I've just been so nervous. Aria raises her eyebrows at me from across the table, but I pretend that I don't notice.
I adjust myself in my seat and glance around the library. It's full of old, dusty books and study tables. The latter is where I'm currently at now, with Spencer, Hanna, and Aria. Lucas said he was going to meet us here about an hour ago, but he never showed. I think that Melissa probably kept him late in his Transfiguration class for some stupid reason like sneezing without permission.
I casually turn my head to the right so I can sneak a peek of Alison. She's sitting at one of the study tables diagonally in front of ours and a tiny bit over the right, facing me. Her usual posse of drones is with her: Cece, Mona, Noel, and Eric. The other two girls are laughing at something that Noel just said, but Alison doesn't seem amused. Even from my distance I can see her boredom. She sighs and props her elbow on the table so that she can lay her cheek against her fist. I fight the urge to smile as it causes her cheek to be smooshed up a little; she's so cute. I don't even try to stop myself from thinking these kinds of things about Alison anymore. I do have to stop when I obsess over the chance that she may feel the same way, though. Sometimes I get carried away and can't control my thoughts!
I wish I had someone to talk to about her; someone that I could trust with all of this torment. I wish I could talk to her about her. But that's probably the worst idea in the world, so I push that thought from my mind.
I glance up at Aria, who is back to writing a note in one of her journals. A sinking feeling envelopes my stomach when I remember that I used to talk to Aria about all of my crushes and my nonexistent love-life while growing up, but I don't feel like I can trust her with this. It's not that I think that she'll judge me; I just think that she won't approve of the fact that it's Alison. And that's the part of my confession that I would absolutely have to tell; there's no point in getting something off of my chest if I'm only telling half of it.
My eyes flicker over to Hanna, sitting beside Aria. She files her nails, paying particular attention to her pinky. I suck my bottom lip in and bite lightly. I know that she has history with Alison, but I feel the closest with Hanna when it comes to dorky and embarrassing things. I always tell her when someone breaks into the bathroom stall I'm trying to pee in, or when I trip down the stairs, or when I run into one of the colossal poles that hold up the great hall. She tells me about her failed relationships and childhood horrors, and isn't afraid to pick something out of her teeth in front of me. She's even asked me to help a few times, which, surprisingly, wasn't weird. I feel like she would be the first to accept that I liked a girl, especially since she's so adamant about finding out about my love life. It's just the fact that it's Alison that I'm worried about.
Spencer is sitting on the right side of me. She's deeply engrossed in her History of Magic book, which makes me crinkle my nose in disgust. It's weird because she actually likes learning about that. I shudder slightly and try to keep my mind on track.
Right. Potentially telling Spencer about my crush on Alison.
Yeah, that's not going to happen. Spencer isn't judgmental and she wouldn't like say anything to me, but I know that deep down she would feel kind of betrayed that I liked someone that was so mean to her previously.
I sigh and finally look back at Alison. She's chewing her lip and contemplating something. The others are smiling and laughing all around her, but there's no trace of joy in her expression. She scratches the hairline on her forehead and starts to pack up her things.
"Emily, I'm starting to see a trend here," Hanna's voice interrupts my thoughts.
"Huh?"
Spencer snorts and Hanna rolls her eyes jokingly.
"I try to talk to you and you just zone out," she explains.
"That's what you get for trying to talk about starting a fan club for yourself," Spencer retorts. Aria smiles but doesn't look up from her writing.
In the distance, Alison stands up and slings her backpack over her shoulder. She gives her friends a tiny salute and pushes her chair in. I can see her wet eyes shining when she walks past our table in order to exit the library.
"Alison!" I call suddenly, cutting off Spencer and Hanna's squabble. I clap my hand over my mouth and stare at her with wide eyes. Alison looks back in my direction and exhales slowly, tilting her head to the side. She gives me a small, close-lipped smile and a slight nod before turning around.
I stand up clumsily, ready to follow her. Without even caring about organization, I stuff all of my books and notes messily into my backpack and slide it over my shoulders.
The girls look at me, surprised, but none say anything. My mouth goes dry as I take turns looking at each of them.
I swallow loudly, "I just—uh—I needed to borrow h-her notes. For Potions."
"O-okay," Spencer nods. She gives Hanna a weird look that I can't quite decipher, and this time the conversation has interested Aria enough that she's looking up at me, too. I grip the strap of my bag and force a smile at them.
"Bye," I wave awkwardly, before turning around and all but sprinting to the door. I don't even pay attention to the librarian who screams at me to stop running.
My shoes skid across the marble floor when I reach the hallway, the door clattering shut behind me. I scan the surrounding area quickly, noticing that the bathroom door down the hall has just closed with a loud thump. I take one final glance to my right before heading left towards the bathroom.
I'm not sure what I'm going to say or even if I'm going to say anything. I just wanted to see if she's okay. Is that weird? Oh my god, is she going to think that this is weird? My palms start sweating as I push the door open, its wood slick against my hand.
Straight in front of me, standing over one of the sinks, is Alison. Her hands grip the sides of the basin and her knuckles have gone almost white. She has her head hanging downward, her golden hair falling all around her face.
"A-Alison," I clear my throat. Her head snaps up quickly and she whirls around to face me; I try not to notice how she looks like she belongs in a shampoo commercial. Her expression is hard, but when she recognizes that it's just me, her tense demeanor melts and she relaxes her clenched jaw.
Just seeing her paralyzes me.
"You scared me," she says and turns back around to look into the sink; her voice is barely audible. She runs her fingers along the nozzles of the sink, lightly brushing the marble between them. She looks up at me through the mirror so that she doesn't have to turn around.
"S-sorry," I stammer. I could have sworn I saw her smile a little when she heard my nerves.
She turns around to face me and leans against the sink, her elbows propped on its edge.
"Are you okay?" I ask, shifting my weight between my feet. "You don't look too happy for someone who's celebrating their birthday."
I meant that last part as a joke, as some kind of ice breaker, but she doesn't seem to take it that way. She scowls and looks down at my feet. My heart starts picking up its pace and I feel myself starting to sweat all over.
"I was just—" I begin.
"I'm surprised you remembered," she says at the same time. Her icy blue eyes meet mine and she smiles through them. But then it turns bitter as she adds, "Everyone else forgot—again."
"Your friends?" I ask, unable to keep the judgment from my voice. I take a few more steps forward until I'm right in front of her. I swear, if I find out that she's talking specifically about Cece and Mona, I'm going to pick a fight with them.
She shrugs. "Among others."
"Your boyfriend?" I prod, unable to suppress my curiosity. I know it's not the time to impose on her personal life, but I just can't help it! I try not to look too eager as she watches me apprehensively.
"No."
Her voice is cryptic, almost challenging. But it isn't threatening.
I try to contain myself as my mind toys with the idea that she could possibly be flirting with me. Even the very thought makes goosebumps rise on my arms.
She takes a deep breath. "It's not what it seems like, though. I'm not disappointed because I'm not getting presents or whatever. I'm just kinda bummed because it makes me realize that… that the people I thought were my friends aren't. That everything I've been raised to become—every standard, every stereotype, every moral—has all been a lie. If I'm not even important enough for them to remember my birthday, then clearly I'm not that important to them."
I open my mouth to speak, but she continues.
"And I mean, I wouldn't care if this was the first time!" she rants, her voice shaking with frustration. "But this is the third year in a row that Cece and Mona have 'forgotten.' I freaking reminded them on Monday. And my parents are just psycho and have their own issues, so I'm not too surprised that they forgot for the fifth year in a row. My grandma was always the only one who always remembered my birthday. I didn't even care that she got me anything; the fact that she remembered was enough."
"October 5th," I say, somehow finding my voice. "I didn't forget. And I won't forget. I promise."
"Emily," she whispers.
I stand silently under her gaze for a few moments. Her eyebrows are knitted and she bites her lip as if contemplating saying something more. I clear my throat and take a deep, relaxing breath. As nervous as I am, I actually feel at home right now. Even though my heart is always pounding, I'm the most comfortable whenever I'm around her. I want to tell her everything about myself and have her do the same for me. I want to be responsible for her smiles and laughter, and be the one she trusts to fight away any tears or insecurities.
"I, uh, I got you something," I tell her finally, unable to suppress the smile. I slide my backpack off of my shoulder and place it on the ground in between us, zipping it open. I carefully rummage through my unorganized things and find the box I'm looking for at the absolute bottom.
"Emily," she says softly, "you didn't have to do that."
I blush when she says my name, thankful that she can't see my face. The sound of her voice rings beautifully in my ears.
I grip the long box and pull it out carefully. She watches my every movement as I hop up off of one knee so I can stand up straight and hold the box out to her.
"Aw, you wrapped it and everything," she puts her hand on her heart and smiles so that her dimple shows. I have to consciously keep my legs from turning to jelly.
Her smile fades a little as she rips the paper off of it and tosses it carelessly to the side.
Her eyes widen as soaks in the beautiful quill I bought for her. She puts her free hand over her mouth, but her cheeks still flush.
"This," she says, her voice muffled from her hand, "is the most beautiful quill I've ever seen."
"I just figured, you know," I mumble, "since you have a diary and you seem like you like writing…"
"Emily," she looks up at me, her eyes sparkling, "this is so perfect. Oh my gosh, thank you!"
She takes a step forward in order to hug me, making sure to wrap her arms around my neck, but I can't move my face in time. Our lips collide messily, and the box in her hands lightly bumps my shoulder blade.
Maybe I should have bobbed and she should have weaved, or maybe I should have weaved and she should have bobbed?
I don't know. All I know is that her lips are on mine and she hasn't pulled away yet.
A thousand thoughts are running through my mind. How did this happen? What just happened? Is she going to break the kiss? Should I deepen it? Oh my god, I've never kissed anyone before. I know I said I had boyfriends in the past, but they were like in fourth grade. Does that even count?
Oh my god I can feel her lip gloss being transferred onto my lips.
Alison is the first one to pull away, but she does so lightly, and without breaking the hug. She runs her fingers tentatively through my hair, and I swear my heart has stopped beating. My gaze flickers between her eyes and her lips, but I know that it's lingering on her lips.
I decide that I'll be the first to initiate it again, and I lean forward. I hear her gasp slightly and lick her lips to moisten her lip gloss.
Our lips meet again, this time in less awkward and more synchronized fashion. It's still a light, chaste kiss, but it's more than I've ever dreamed of.
She is the first to pull away again, her face beet red. She clears her throat and breaks the hug so that she can smooth her uniform down.
Alison makes eye contact with me, and opens her mouth to say something, but clamps it shut almost immediately, nodding instead. She raises a hand to try and emphasize a nonexistent point, but instead curls it into a fist and covers her mouth. Finally, she touches her lips, and I can tell that she dazes out for a moment.
But all too soon, she's back in reality. She clears her throat awkwardly and breathes in deeply through her nose.
Without any words, she raises her hand up—the one that was against her mouth— and I can't help but stare at it. Is she really trying to high-five me right now? I awkwardly high-five her, but before I can even register it, she's holding onto my hand.
"I wanted to tell you," she says, her voice sounding strange, "that you have v-very soft lips. I, uh, bye."
She squeezes my hand once and then lets go. I open my mouth to answer her, but she's already brushed past me, quickly leaving the bathroom. I gaze after her, my jaw dropped. The door thuds shut behind her, and I can't help but laugh a little.
I know it's Alison's birthday, but it feels like it's mine. I just got the present I've been wanting all school year.
well that was awkward... lolz. hope you guys enjoyed. TC should be up within the next couple of days! sorry about the wait... :(
lemme know what you think! PM, review, DM on twitter, whatever makes you most comfortable! twitter name is the same as my username on here!
ps. i'm thinking about writing this chapter in Alison's pov next, but i haven't decided... what do you guys think?