A/N: Well well well, I'm back! So, as always, thank you for your ever-so-sweet reviews; they mean the absolute world to me and I love seeing your enthusiasm over what's happening in the story. I'm just going to cut to the chase with this chapter, because there are Spoby scenes for once, thank God! I'm dividing the dinner into two chapters so I can fit in everything, however. Grab a pillow and cross your fingers, kids! Enjoy. :)

As a part of my 'Completely Fool Emily Into Believing I'm Attempting to Be Friends With Toby' plan, I have given myself the task of telling Toby that he's going to be my date tonight. I can think of about three hundred other things I'd rather do; watching grass grow and selling my soul to the devil are among the rankings. But if I want everyone to buy this act, I have to sell it in the best way possible. So, after a severe pep talk in the mirror of the girl's bathroom, I take a deep breath and march straight out of school and up to Toby's infamous motorcycle, which terrifies me.

He's fiddling with something on it, and I temporarily wonder if he's planning on sending it barreling in my direction, but my mind stops me and tells me that I'm just over-exaggerating things. "Toby!" I call out, and his head snaps up. He sees me, and for a second his face is completely unreadable. I'm not sure what he's thinking; at this point, it could be anything from 'oh hey look, here comes my future bride!' to 'something wicked this way comes!' Finally, he cracks a small, barely noticeable smile.

"Spencer," he acknowledges in a strained tone. I flash him what has to be the world's shortest-held smile.

"Listen, I'm going to make this short and sweet and as painless as possible. Caleb's mom is in town and is treating a bunch of his friends to dinner. Bada bing, bada boom, you're my date for the evening." I proclaim, and am greeted with Toby's completely blank expression. A long sigh escapes my lips as I back up. "Everyone going has a date, and you and I are the only ones who don't have dates…" It comes out in a sing-song voice as it registers in Toby's brain.

"So we're automatic dates?" he replies, raising an eyebrow. I nod, giving him a thumbs up as response. He runs his fingers through his hair, shrugging. "Sounds fine to me. Where's it at?"

Dammit, Hanna. My shoulders slouch forward. "Some restaurant in Philly. Hanna failed to mention the name of it," I explain halfheartedly. Classic Hanna Marin; eagerly insist that I come along and ask Toby to be my date but not tell me anything about where it is we're going.

Toby gives another one-shoulder shrug, which makes me wonder if he's having some kind of muscle spasm. "It'll be alright," he states. "We can just follow Hanna. What time do I need to pick you up at?" he asks. I stare at him dumbfounded for a moment, shocked by his generosity. I thought he would have made me walk or something. I quickly change my expression, holding up seven fingers and smiling a little.

"Bye uh, Toby," I say, hurriedly walking off to my car and clambering in. Once I've slammed the door shut, I roll my eyes and hit the steering wheel rather forcefully. Toby's definitely working overtime on his little agenda. I guess that means I'm going to have to pull a Hastings face and make sure I'm the victorious one.

I pull out my phone, opening up a new text message and attaching the other three girls' numbers to the recipient list. Toby said yes, so don't try to hook me up with any of your weird friends for the evening. Hanna, BTW, we're going to ride your ass the whole way there for not telling me the name of the restaurant. Hope your Altima likes it from behind. ;) I press send, then put my keys in the ignition and drive all the way home with my radio blaring.

. . .

I stare at my reflection in the mirror, trying to fix my hair's position around my face so it looks normal. After a fashion emergency call to the fashion policewoman herself, Aria helped me figure out what to wear. Over the phone, she helped me settle on something I probably never could have on my own without ripping my hair out first; a white tank top, a pair of black skinny jeans and a pair of boots that turned up out of nowhere. Aria advised me to curl my hair, and not wanting to disappoint the guru, I did as she wished.

Toby would be here any time soon, and after threatening Hanna that we would never show up, Hanna would pull up, announce her arrival, and then lead the way to the restaurant. She's already sent me at least seven worried rambles about how she doesn't want to sit next to Caleb's mother in the rare case the woman doesn't like her new perfume and other ridiculous thought processes. I guess I look presentable enough. I'm just there to make Aria's asinine outfit choice look even more otherworldly, and to make sure that Caleb's mother knows at least one of his friends has all their ducks in a row.

There's a faint ding from my computer, resting peacefully inside my bag which had been thrown sloppily into my red loveseat. I scramble over to it, pulling it out and opening it to see who's decided to email me. Just to my luck, it's James. According to the time, it was sent sometime right after school. I crack a smile, opening the email and silently reading it.

SUBJECT: Looking in high and low places for you…

So I spent most of the rest of my day looking for anyone who looked like they could possibly be you, but I had no such luck. It looks like finding out who you really are is going to be more of a challenge than I thought. On the bright side, there aren't that many seniors in Rosewood. I'm going to find out who you are, that's a promise. However, I wouldn't complain any if you dropped me a few hints along the way. ;D

I shake my head, laughing to myself. It was kind of sweet and yet alarming that this James character was looking for me. I hadn't even thought about trying to find out who he could possibly be; I spent periods five through eight worrying myself to death about the Toby situation. The idea that he however had been looking for me was a little surprising. It was sweet in the way that he cared enough to want to find me, but it was a little scary that he'd only just met me and now wanted to find me. What if he was one of those obsessive stalkers you hear about on Dr. Phil and Oprah?

SUBJECT: re: Looking in high and low places for you…

Well that's too bad; you might not have that much luck if this is going to prove to be a challenge to you. You're right though—there aren't as many seniors in Rosewood. Also, you sort of gave away the fact you were a senior as well, so thanks for that little hint! And oh please; hints are for losers. You'll have to do this all on your own. Good luck! ;)

Right as I close my computer, I hear the doorbell ring downstairs. It looks like Toby's taking this as his opportunity for a great entrance. It's either that, or Hanna's going to be walking down the road. I take the stairs two at a time before swiftly opening up the door. I'm not surprised to see Toby, but I am surprised to see him looking so…different. It's not every day that I see Toby Cavanaugh on my doorstep to pick me up while managing to not look so murderable.

Toby looks me up and down, a hint of a genuine smile on his face. "Hey Spencer," he says softly. "You look great." I'm having a hard time actually believing my ears; Toby Cavanaugh just gave me a genuine compliment that didn't follow with 'Ha! Psyche!' after. In order to follow up to that, I return the smile.

"Thanks; so do you." I don't have time to say much else, because the next thing I know, Hanna is in my driveway and literally playing drums with the horn. I jump at least ten feet in the air, not expecting Hanna to hold down the horn for thirty seconds then start excessively beating on it. She doesn't look too thrilled. I scowl in her direction, shooting her a look that says 'if you don't chill, I'm going to dive through your windshield and maybe bang your head against the horn'. "Well," I say, crossing my arms. "Looks like we better head out before Hanna's hand falls off."

Toby laughs—laughs!—at my comment before leading the way to our means of transportation. I'm stunned to see not a car or a truck, but instead, his motorcycle. Immediately, I take two steps back and eye him. Yep, the compliment was fake, because this is the psyche moment. He returns the look but confused. "What? Never rode before?" he says, almost teasing me. I can see the boyish gleam in his eyes.

"I am not getting on that—"

"Oh c'mon Spence. It's not that bad," Toby croons seductively. "All you have to do is hold onto me; I do everything else. I don't bite, you know." I figure this would be a bad time to point out the fact that I still have marks where he bit me in the sixth grade fight we both participated in, so I keep my mouth shut.

"What if I somehow make the bike tip over with both of us on it? Or cause you to completely run off the road? Or worse, what if I cause you to turn into the wrong lane of traffic?" I begin worrying outside of my head and out loud, staring at the machine of death that Toby's leaning up against.

"Then," he says, in that melodic convincing tone. "I will push you out of the way so the bike doesn't land on you. If we run off the road, I'll forewarn you so you hang on tight as I get us back on the road. And Spencer, it's a motorcycle, not a Hummer. It's not like it'd be complicated to weave in and out of traffic."

I know that all Toby's doing is trying to assure me that we won't die, but it's not working for me. Apparently, the holdup I'm causing isn't working for one particular blonde. "Spencer!" Hanna screeches; I whirl around to see Hanna hanging out of her window. "Just get on the damn bike and shut your mouth, we're going to be LATE!"

I look back over at Toby, who's got a reassuring smile on his face. "I promise you, I won't let anything happen to you." With that, he presents his offering—a motorcycle helmet. I sigh. I think I'd rather deal with the machine of death than a pissed off Hanna Marin. I take it, defeated, and fumble around with it for a minute before finally getting it on my head. Great. Now my hair's going to be messed up, and Aria's never going to let me hear the end of it. When it happens, I'm blaming Hanna and her lack of patience.

I stand in front of the bike, confused as what to do next. Toby swings his leg over the side and mounts the bike, his hands already on the handlebars. He can see my confused expression, and begins gently instructing me. "Okay, now, you're going to hop onto the back…" he starts. I get a little closer, before freezing up. Man up, Spencer. You're a Hastings. You have family members and best friends scarier than this motorcycle. Taking a deep breath, I place my hands on Toby's shoulders to steady myself and pull myself onto the bike. It isn't too hard to figure out where my feet go, and I'm finally settled on the bike. My nerves, however, are far from settled.

"Alright," Toby instructs. "If you're scared, you can just wrap your arms around my waist. Lean when I lean, okay? Other than that, you're going to be fine, Spencer." He turns his head slightly so he can see me, and I give him a salute. Toby then turns back around, and the next thing I know the bike is roaring, coming to life. Hanna seems to be overjoyed with our progress, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see her throwing her hands up in the air out of relief. She backs out of my driveway in under five seconds flat, and begins pulling out towards the end of the road. Toby follows her, and the next thing I know, my arms are tightly wound around Toby's middle. I can hear a faint chuckle over the roar of the motorcycle, but it could be my imagining things.

As we pull out of Rosewood and begin to make our way to Philly, I find myself loosening up a bit. My hands have been vise-like around Toby, and it's given me the discreet opportunity to feel just what's exactly up under that shirt of his. His stomach is rock-hard, and I can feel a few ridges along his chest and the first thing that comes to my mind is six pack. I'm starting to think this adrenaline rush is sending all the blood to my head, because I wouldn't ever in a sane state of mind care if Toby Cavanaugh had a six pack.

The sky is literally changing colors around us as we drive, and I feel almost like we're flying. Hanna's literally speeding down the road, and Toby's trying to keep up with her and not kill us at the same time. I close my eyes, tossing my head back and enjoying the feel of the wind on my face. Toby decides to give me a mini heart attack and literally rides on the line for a few seconds, which not only terrifies me but gives me a freeing feeling. I've never had such an adrenaline high before.

When we make it to the restaurant, Toby pulls up in the spot behind Hanna and turns off the bike. I frown, not quite used to the feel of not moving anymore. He pulls his helmet off, so I decide to mirror the action. Toby jumps off, offering his hand out to me and helps me off the bike. "Did you have fun?" he asks as he takes my helmet from me.

"Well, other than the sheer moment of terror of you riding the line, I actually did," I say, smiling. He's got a mirror grin on his face.

Hanna takes that moment to climb out of her car, shaking her head. "Toby, you're an idiot. I'm surprised Spencer didn't pull out her calculus textbook and beat you in the head with it for riding the line." I mock laugh, staring Hanna down.

"She enjoyed it, didn't you?" Toby prods. I nod, smiling. Hanna gets this really goofy smile on her face, and I can literally steal the words right from her mouth.

"Oh I know you did Spence. Losing your motorcycle virginity was probably the highlight of your week," she says out loud. As she twirls by us to meet Caleb, who's standing on the far end of sidewalk and waiting for us, she whispers in my ear, "Keep it up, and the highlight of your month will be when you swipe the other V-card." She shoots me a wink as she pulls away, and I want nothing more than to murder her right here and now.

Toby holds out his arm, and to both of our surprise, I take it. We begin to walk down the sidewalk, listening to Hanna's rambles from behind. We can't help but to exchange glances and snicker behind her back, because her unreasonable fear over this dinner is quite hilarious. What's even funnier is the fact that I'm actually able to share a genuine laugh with someone who I hate—or rather, thought I hated.

I'd never say it to her face so she could have the satisfaction of saying 'I told you so', but maybe Emily was right.

ALL THE SPOBY. Goodness, I love it! Well well well, so in this chapter we learned that James is on the lookout for Spencer at school, Hanna was born without an ounce of patience, and Spencer + Toby + motorcycles = happiness. So do you think Spencer's still just playing nice with Toby but really plotting her revenge or is she genuinely being friendly? What about Toby; is he for real, or does he have something else up his sleeve? Leave me a pretty little review, or I'll send Hanna to your house in the middle of the night and lay down on the horn until you do review. xo