A/N: Remember me? You can just call me Satan, since I clearly don't know how to finish a story. Life sort of threw me a curveball (for almost a year, yeah, nice lie there Emily) and I sort of lost track of keeping up with my stories. But I was on Tumblr earlier and saw that someone had recommended this story to their followers awhile back and I just…it made me want to just pick this story back up. I've got all my notes saved and free wifi here down at the Ritz, so you best believe I'm back. Thank you for all of your sweet reviews—even after all this time—they make me want to keep writing, honestly. This one is for you.

That night, I wake up startled from a nightmare in which Toby Cavanaugh and I get married.

I shoot straight up from whatever dream hell I've been imprisoned in, a scream caught in my throat. My legs are tangled in between the sweaty sheets that are clinging to my bare skin, and it takes me a minute to peel them off of me. Okay, so maybe this whole thing about being his friend is doing me more harm than good. If I'm having dreams where I'm saying my wedding vows to the devil, then maybe I need to back up off the whole "being friends" with him thing. Damn Emily and her ability to sway me into doing the exact opposite of what I'd actually like to do.

I run my fingers through my damp mess of hair as I lean up against the headboard, trying to catch my breath. Am I supposed to be concerned by this? Should I look at this as a sign that I'm getting a little too close with the sworn enemy? I've heard of sleeping with the enemy, but when you go to sleep and dream of the enemy, what the hell does that mean? I look over at my clock, and the harsh red glow of the numbers happily informs me that it's 3:47. Great. Just fantastic.

Falling back in the middle of my pillows, I reach over and grab my laptop. After that charming awakening, I don't think going back to sleep is much of an option; I'm afraid I'll go back to sleep and dream of me in labor, giving birth to the Antichrist, or in other terms, Toby's child. The bright light from the computer is near blinding and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust before I'm able to actually look at my laptop. There's a ding as it turns on, signaling the fact that I've got a new email.

SUBJECT: Doing this on purpose, aren't you?

The subject title should be enough of a message. I seriously cannot find you to save my life. You sure you don't want to give me any kind of a hint? Anything and everything is appreciated. Just make my life a little easier. You could always just tell me who you are, you know… ;)

I can't help but to find a chuckle. Talking to James is always one of my favorite parts of the day, and reading his email is enough to get the horrors of my wedding to Toby out of my head. Toby might not be as bad as I originally thought, but he's still bad nonetheless. I position my fingers over the keyboard, trying to think of a clever, witty reply. At three in the morning, I don't find myself to exactly be the most charismatic.

SUBJECT: re: Doing this on purpose, aren't you?

That's such a shame, but unfortunately for you, I'm not breaking. At least, not until you do. It's only fair that I know first because I just do happen to be a lady, and you should always put the lady's needs before your own. No hints. Not unless I hear one first. I suppose I could, but what would be the fun in that? Exactly. There is no fun in it. Keep on looking. ;) xo

. . .

Hanna all but tackles me on my way to lunch, almost causing me to trip up the stairs into school. I catch myself just in time, and I rest a hand over my heart as she spins me around to face her. "What the actual hell is wrong with you?" I hiss, hitting her in the arm.

"Do not hit me," she scolds, holding her arm in an attempt to physically show me the pain I supposedly caused. "I bruise like a banana and if I have a bruise on me when I go to prom, I will personally kill you."

"Prom? Since when are you going to prom?" I ask her, confused.

"That's why I flagged you down!"

"You mean ambushed?" I retort, and Hanna rolls her eyes.

"God Spencer, grow up; you didn't fall and no one got hurt," Hanna reprimands me as we walk into the building. I mumble under my breath, to which she somewhat picks up on. When she does look my way, I shrug innocently.

"So why did you almost kill me?" I ask her, straightening the strap on my shoulder.

Hanna grabs both of my shoulders, a grin the size of Nebraska on her face. "Caleb asked me to prom last night!" she squeals, and as excited as I am for her, I can't find it in me to show that I'm the least bit thrilled for her. I put on a fake smile and nod as she begins walking on with me in tow, her voice faraway and dreamy as she rattles off the story. "He came over to my house last night with a box of cupcakes, and I told him that there was no way I was about to sit down and eat an entire box of cupcakes with prom coming up, and when he made me open the box, it had the letters spelling out prom on each little cupcake!" Hanna sighs contently. "It was wonderful. And I ended up eating the cupcakes too, but that's what a treadmill is for."

Instead of squealing and jumping around with her over her fantastic tale of being asked to prom, I find myself attracted to the sight of Toby talking to Jenna. Something about the sight makes my blood really and truly boil; Emily's always kept me informed on the ins and outs of Toby Cavanaugh and one thing she never fails to keep me posted on is the tumultuous relationship that he has with his stepsister.

According to the stories Emily tells me about the two of them, they've never had a good relationship. When Toby's dad married Jenna's mom, Jenna and Toby were never extremely close. Jenna always had a fascination for life beyond the four walls of their house, whereas Toby was more of a black sheep. He didn't care anything about the social life that his sister so desperately craved. Toby's naturally submissive personality and Jenna's naturally dominative seemed to work well for a little while, but eventually things all came to a head. Jenna took Toby's car one night and wrecked it on purpose after Toby stood up for himself in the midst of some great injustice, apparently, and wrapped it around a tree, and when she got in trouble, she blamed him. Claimed that he'd tried to touch her and that she was so shaken up when she tried to get away, she didn't focus on the road and that's how she got herself in her predicament. It was a completely off the wall lie, but Toby's parents bought it, and ever since then, the two of them have always been baring teeth at one another.

The two of them are arguing about something, and I'm not sure what. I'm trying to listen in on their conversation, but Hanna and her rambling on about her prom-posal don't make it easier. I raise my hand for her to lower the volume, and that enrages her apparently. "Are you even listening to me?" she hisses.

"No—I mean, yes, I just, I'm trying to hear what's going on over there," I whisper. She mumbles something that I don't take the time to pay any attention to her, and I'd love to bite back but it's not a fight I'm looking to get myself into at the moment. Instead, I lean a little farther into the one that Toby and Jenna are currently tangled up in.

"I need the car tonight," Toby says, rather loudly.

"Well you're not getting it! I have plans, Toby, a life. Something that I'm pretty sure is foreign to you." The amount of bitterness in Jenna's voice is so high that I'm sure it makes a lemon look like candy.

"Unfortunately, it's not, and I need the car. You get it every night; all I'm asking for is just this one night."

"Ride on your little motorcycle. That's what it's for."

"I can't use my motorcycle. Use this opportunity to set fire to your stone heart and maybe feel some compassion for once in your life and let me use the damn car." Toby's voice is cold, almost dangerous, and it reminds me more of the Toby that I've been very accustomed to my whole life.

Jenna catches sight of me and Hanna—or rather, me and a completely disinterested Hanna, and she immediately moves her head out of the way so I can't hear any more of her conversation. "We'll talk later."

Toby sees the two of us as Jenna stalks off down the hall, and the tension in his face slacks immensely. "Thank you for scaring her off," he admits rather sheepishly.

I open my mouth to speak, but Hanna walks right over me, one of her infamous fake smiles decorating her lips brighter than the ridiculously hot pink lipstick she's picked out. "Well, Spencer is scary to just about anyone under the age of fifty." I shoot her a rather evil look, and Toby chuckles.

"Well, either way, thanks for that."

"No problem, me and my scariness take that as a complete compliment."

Hanna looks back and forth between me and Toby a few times, before this absolutely sinister look comes about her; it's so bad that it's moved past her face and is radiating off of her. Shooting me an over exaggerated wink, she opens her mouth and makes things even worse. "Well, I'll leave you two lovebirds be. See you in English, Spence." She then saunters off, leaving me with my mouth gaping open like a fish out of water and staring at her receding figure. Toby coughs, trying to act as though this isn't the most awkward situation he's ever been a part of.

I can feel the heat pulsing off my face as I pain myself even more by looking back over at him. His ocean blue eyes give away the fact that he's amused by Hanna's little comment. "She's—"

"Oh yeah."

Toby crosses his arms over his chest, leaning up against his locker as I fix my hair awkwardly. This whole talking to him and not attempting to kill him thing is still way out of my comfort zone. "What was all that with Jenna about?" I finally ask him.

He lets out a sigh. "How much of it did you hear?"

"Enough."

"She was born without the consideration attribute. I don't think she ever learned that sharing is caring, if you understand where I'm coming from," he explains.

"Why don't you just take your bike?"

"Now you sound like Jenna. I have some things I have to do tonight in Philly and I can't really take my bike up there. It's got to do with work." Right, Emily once mentioned that Toby did carpentry jobs on the side. I swear, she's the walking and talking all-things-Toby encyclopedia. He peels himself off his locker, waiting for me to tag along behind him. "Come on, I'll walk you to your locker."

I hesitate for a moment, unsure of whether I should let him lead me to the water—or, rather, my locker. "Thought you were on reserve by Emily?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "I'm always a free man," he teases. I decide that if he does attempt to jump me, I could always just stab him with my keys. That should do the trick. So I follow along with him, the two of us walking rather quickly as the awkward silence is none too appealing.

"So you've got a job up in Philly?" I say, attempting to break the silence between us.

"Probably not if I can't convince Jenna to let me use the car. It's 'provide your own transportation,'" he explains.

"And the motorcycle won't do?"

"Nope." He then pulls his phone out of his pocket, flipping through something before tilting the phone in my direction. It's a picture of a truck; I'm not an automobile sort of girl, but it is a beautiful truck. "I've been keeping my eye on this baby, but there's absolutely no way that I'm going to be able to find the money before someone else gets it. It's probably already sold at this point." One of the things that I highly dislike about Toby is that he has the most pessimistic attitude out of everyone that I've ever met, and that's including all of my relatives. He seems to just have absolutely no hope in this whatsoever. Then again, hope does breed eternal misery.

We stop at my locker, Toby putting his phone back into his pocket. I look around into the room and end up making eye contact with Hanna, aka the last person I want to make eye contact with right now. She's leaning against the wall, talking to Aria and she's begun to make all sorts of suggestive movements, ones that vary from eyebrow wiggling to imitating a hip thrust. It's embarrassing, and I pray to God that Toby doesn't turn around. "I'll see you later on?" he asks, and I nod. "Bye, Spencer."

"Bye," I call out after him before opening my locker, throwing all of my books in there and grabbing my laptop. Hanna's eyes are burning into the back of my skull, but I manage to avoid her gaze as I beeline towards my study hall. Thankfully, I'll get a moment of peace and quiet before Hanna jumps down my throat in chemistry, asking me how many rounds of hot sex Toby and I got in the janitor's closet before the bell rang. The entire room is deserted once I get there, so I get my pick of seats. Picking a table in the back corner, I pull out my laptop and turn it on, seeing that I have one new email at the sound of the ding. James. My fingers drift to the email icon on autopilot, opening his response.

SUBJECT: re: re: Doing this on purpose, aren't you?

You ought to be ashamed of yourself. I guess you're right about that, but if we're talking about being fair, then it would only be that way if you shared something with me when I asked for it. We're not very fair people though, I'm assuming. I guess I'll have to keep looking for your beautiful face. Won't be too hard; just got to overhear your sharp mouth saying something and your charade is up. Might better learn some manners, Jill, or I'll have you found out before you can get out of Mrs. Montgomery's class. Also—what are you doing at four in the morning? Go back to sleep.

A smile creeps on my face, and my fingers are poised over the keyboard, ready to type away my reply. But something else catches my attention before I can. James' comment about fair people gets me to thinking about the fight between Toby and Jenna, and hard as I find it to believe that I could actually be sorry for him, I am.

It is in that moment that I break character and do the most unthinkable, probably regrettable by the time I leave, absurd thing I've ever done in my entire life.

I open my browser, and type in the search bar: 'trucks for sale, Rosewood, PA'.

A/N: So I figured that I'd give you all a little Spoby goodness since it's been such a long time, and I hope this incredibly long(er) chapter makes some of it up to you all. Anyways, Jenna is not blind in this story since A doesn't really exist in this story and I didn't want to drag Ali into the story because Toby was around the girls the whole time, so I had to change that up just a little bit. I hope that all of that makes sense and if it doesn't, please let me know and I'd be happy to clarify further. I hope you guys do know how sorry I am for all but abandoning this story; I've still got a lot of plans for this and I can't wait for you all to see them! I've also got another story started on here called Corrupted Desires, so be sure to check that out in the meantime. Please leave a review, they mean the world to me and I love to know what you all think! If you don't review, Hanna will find you and embarrass the hell out of you in public, and I don't think you want that. xo