Thank you so, so, so, so much for the warm response and enthusiasm for this story! I may not update quickly, but that's only because I'm a painfully slow writer. You guys wouldn't want to read the first thing I put on paper! I apologize for all of the typos in the last chapter. Lots of facepalming.
In order to balance out the angst, I give you fluff. Fluff is my weakness, but you guys and the characters deserve a little happy before the crazy starts happening.
Also, I made a certain character a complete asshole for the sake of the story, but I don't actually harbor hatred for the character. Just sayin'!
Three days after the far too eventful day ending with Emily hastily driving away and Alison paralyzed in her driveway, the blonde parked carefully behind a car in the driveway of a small brick house. Tipping her sunglasses up to the top of her head, she gripped the handles of a small shopping bag in the passenger seat. She boosted the car door open with her sandaled foot. As she hoisted herself to her feet, bag and purse in hand, she surveyed the small house. It was the appropriate size, she determined, for one person.
Despite her insecurities the other night, the blonde felt remarkably confident and swaggered to the front door in her white sundress with a light blue floral print and faded denim vest. She rapped on the wooden door four times. She didn't hear a sound. She attempted to ring the doorbell, but pressing the small white round button wrapped in an inch of brushed chrome yielded only a soft click. Not at all put off and very impatient, she smirked and began pounding on the door yelling in a deep voice, "Emily Fields, this is the police. Let us in or we'll let ourselves in." She obviously had no idea if a police officer would say that, but she figured it sounded menacing enough.
She was right; she heard running and "I'm coming don't bust the damn door down, please!" Squeezing her lips together and holding her breath to stifle her giggles, Alison waited only a few seconds before she heard someone frantically unlock the door and swing it open.
A completely dumbfounded brunette clad only in very tiny and tight black sports shorts and grey tank top blurted out of shock, "What the hell, Alison?"
As Emily's gaping jaw quickly shifted to a grin, the blonde informed the woman, "Your doorbell doesn't work and I tried knocking."
"So pretending to be a cop was the next best thing?"
Glad to see Emily smiling, Alison said, "You think it's funny. Admit it."
Assuming the woman on her doorstep wanted to come in, the brunette made a sweeping gesture into the house, stepped aside and replied, "If I had opened the door to dudes in ties trying to sell me on Jesus, I wouldn't find it so funny." As she shut and locked the door, she added, "Oh and the doorbell doesn't work because I yanked the wires. I freakin' hate doorbells. That and dryer buzzers." She shuddered, "They scare the shit out of me." Alison turned to face her as she elaborated, "Everything is completely silent and then BLURT one of those damn sounds makes me jump ten feet in the air. No thank you I do not want a heart attack."
For some reason, Alison couldn't stop smiling. Hearing Emily talk about such random things as doorbells and dryer buzzers made her feel at home. It seemed as if this might be their first normal, everyday conversation.
"So what can I do you for?" Emily asked as she walked further into the house. "I do have an appointment in an hour so I don't have long." She glanced down at her clothes and pointed to her hair, "I have to make myself presentable."
"Oh, you have all the time in the world," Alison assured the other woman with a coy look. "I'm the client."
"What?" Emily's brow knitted together with confusion. "You're Vivian Darkbloom? A swimmer with a rotator cuff injury?"
Quite pleased with herself, the blonde slid her sunglasses off her head and nodded while putting them in her purse, "I'm pretty convincing aren't I?"
Folding her arms over her chest and shifting her weight onto one leg, Emily rolled her eyes, although clearly amused and answered, "You definitely had me fooled. How did you even know what to say? You were pretty specific. And the French accent?"
"Google and movies can do wonders can't they?"
"You're just full of surprises, Ms. Darkbloom."
"You haven't even scratched the surface," Alison teased.
"I like a good mystery."
"How are you enjoying this one so far?"
Emily scrunched her lips together and replied thoughtfully, "There's a few boring chapters, but I'm making it through." Alison couldn't miss the brunette's obvious visual inspection of her from head to toe. "The cover is nice though."
"You had it wrong the first night we met," the blonde noted with a smirk. "You're the insufferable one. Insults and compliments in the same breath?"
"I've perfected the method over the years," Emily replied as she eyed the small bag hanging off of Alison's arm. "Do you come bearing gifts?"
"Yes, I do," the blonde wiggled the bag off her arm and handed it to the other woman. "It's for my session today."
Intrigued, the brunette opened the bag gingerly. Her eyes shot up to Alison when she saw the contents. Pulling out black material, she asked, "You need three swimsuits, a pair of goggles and a swim cap for your fake session today?"
"Actually, you'll need them," Alison corrected.
"Okay. An observation and a question. There's only one of me and why do I need any of this?" Emily clearly wondered about the number of suits.
"I didn't know your size," the blonde snickered as Emily held up one to her body that clearly would swallow her whole.
"Seriously?" the brunette chuckled.
"That was a joke."
Emily glanced at the tags on the other two and replied, "Well, you got one right. Good for you."
"Why thank you."
"Now for the question…" Emily probed.
"You're going swimming."
"I am?" Emily's eyebrows shot up. "Why would I want to do that?"
Somewhat hesitant to respond, Alison began, "You used to swim. So—"
"So you figured I'd like to go swimming on a Saturday morning?"
Since Emily clearly wasn't going to settle for a half assed response, the blonde said, "I spoke with Hanna and—"
"You spoke with Hanna?"
"Emily…"
"Alison…"
"You wanna let me finish?" Alison made sure to smirk so as not to sound rude.
Emily narrowed her eyes and tucked her tongue between her teeth as she shook her head. She seemed impressed that the blonde had showcased her sarcasm and dominant inclinations.
"I spoke to Hanna and she said that when you lived in Philadelphia, you would sometimes swim when you got stressed out or…" her voice drifted off.
"Or what?"
"I was waiting for you to interrupt me." Both women exchanged understanding smiles. Since Emily could read between the lines, Alison saw no reason to call attention to the fact that she knew Emily was having a hard time the past few weeks.
"Thank you, Alison," Emily said sincerely. Alison filed Emily's grateful look of softened eyes and hints of a smile into a mental archive. Expression by expression, she'd master the art of reading Emily Fields.
"We need to hurry though. I could only reserve the pool until noon."
"Where exactly are we going? The only lap pool in Rosewood is at Rosewood High."
"That's where we're going," the blonde nodded.
"You're dragging me back to that hell hole?" Emily complained while laughing.
Holding up her hands in a surrender position, Alison answered, "I don't like it anymore than you do. I avoid that place like the plague."
"I guess we'll have to get through it together," the brunette began shuffling to the back of the house and yelled back, "Let me get this suit and actual clothes on and then we can head out."
"Alright," Alison replied. With Emily out of sight, the blonde felt free to take a peek at the house. Surprisingly, there was barely anything to look at. There wasn't a single piece of furniture in the den, only six cardboard boxes stacked in the middle of the room. "Oh my god," she laughed while reading the black words on some of the boxes, "Emily are there really three boxes of comic books in here?"
"Umm. Yes. Those are the most important and expensive three boxes in this house. I really should have packed them better." Alison poked her head into the kitchen to see a couple of open boxes and plates, pots and pans scattered all over the counters. Emily spoke again, "So I thank you for getting the goggles and swim cap, but I have to use my own. It's a thing."
"I'll try not to take that personally."
"Can you get them out of the garage? There in a box labeled 'sports something'."
"'Sports something'?" Alison laughed as she walked to what she assumed was the door to the garage.
"Whatever is written after 'sports' is probably illegible."
The blonde opened the door to a pitch black room. After fumbling for a light switch on the wall and flipping it upward, she couldn't help but gasp at the vehicle she saw in front of her. There was over one hundred thousand dollars of metal covered in beautiful red paint sitting in front of her. This is not the car Emily was driving the other night. She quickly found the box and snatched out the goggles and swim cap.
"Emily," she asked as she walked back into the house, "Do sports therapists make enough money to own a top of the line Porsche?"
"Oh. Umm. Well." Alison could here the woman stammering and clearing her throat. "I uhhh inherited it."
"You 'uhhh inherited it'? A Porsche?"
"Yeah," Emily came bounding into the living room in a longer pair of athletic shorts and a deep cut graphic tank top revealing the black swimsuit underneath. "Dead relatives give you stuff."
"Do they?" Alison asked skeptically.
With her eyes bouncing all over the room, Emily took the goggles and cap from Alison, shoved them into a small duffel bag and said simply, "Yup."
Alison knew Emily was lying, but didn't see the need to push it. She only joked, "Did you steal it?"
"You got me. I'm a stealer of Porsches," the brunette finally made eye contact with her guest as she waved Alison out the front door. The pair continued to chat amicably all the way to the school.
When they waltzed into the pool area, Emily took a long whiff of the air. "I missed this smell so much." They both set their bags beside the bleachers and Alison settled herself on the front row. Emily scoffed while stripping off her tank top and shorts, "You're just going to sit there and watch me?"
With a smirk, Alison replied, "What do you want me to do? Screw around on my phone?"
"No I meant," Emily snatched up the towel she brought, grabbed Alison's hand and coaxed her to her feet. "Are you going to sit there," she nodded to the metal bleachers, "and watch me?"
"Where else do you expect me to sit?" Alison asked enjoying the feeling of the brunette's hand in hers.
The swimmer tossed the towel on the ground near the edge of the pool and pointed, "Right there."
"Oh, no. I'm not getting near the water," Alison wagged her head. "I know what happens when people get near the edge. They end up in the pool."
"Relax," Emily dropped onto her backside and flung her feet over the edge and into the water. "I'm not going to push you in." She glanced up at Alison, "You're all dressed up—in a white dress. I know better than to mess up a women's make up and clothes. It's basically a death wish."
"Not happening," the blonde insisted.
"Just stick your feet in. You'll be fine," Emily patted the towel next to her throwing puppy dog eyes up at her friend.
"Not happening," Alison repeated despite those brown eyes staring up at her. This moment right here simply reinforced the decision she made three nights ago on her driveway. This tingling feeling never happened between her and Duncan. It never had.
"You know what," the swimmer hopped to her feet. She walked over to retrieve her goggles and swim cap. "I'm not getting into the pool until you're sitting down with your feet in the water."
Alison glared at her, "Seriously?"
"Seriously," Emily parroted as she wound up her hair and started shoving it under the cap. When Alison didn't make a move except to cross her arms over her chest, she stopped and asked, "Should I even bother putting this on?"
"Oh my god," Alison groaned as she stalked to the towel and sat down cross-legged.
Walking to a staring block two lanes from where Alison sat, Emily ordered, "Sandals off, feet in."
"Emily, really?" Alison threw back with more amusement than annoyance.
The swimmer sat down on the edge of the block and said, "Really. Feet in."
Emily was thoroughly enjoying teasing the other woman. Alison couldn't remember the last time she'd been involved in anything so childish. She loved it. "Emily Fields, just get in the damn pool and swim."
"Do you really think you're more stubborn than I am?"
Caving only because of the beautiful smile on the brunette's face, Alison groaned far too loud as she yanked off her sandals. "Fine. You win." She gently dropped her bare feet into the water and said, "There. Are you happy?"
"Yes… Very." Emily responded in a tone hinting at more than a simple word. Alison wished Emily could reveal what words tickled the tip of her tongue. Soon, maybe she would let herself speak openly.
"Then freakin' swim," Alison commanded.
Smiling, Emily stood up and secured her goggles. She took a deep breath and bent down into position. She held herself still for a few seconds and then leapt out and into the water. Alison knew very little about swimming, so she could only assume that was a clean dive. If it didn't look like a belly flop, she figured it counted as a dive.
As she watched Emily swim up and down the lane, she drifted off into her own thoughts as she tried to prepare herself for what was to come. She'd hardly slept since the Emily debacle three days ago. Her stomach felt twisted and knotted around itself and her brain ached from spinning in overdrive every waking moment. When Emily had driven away that night, Alison finally admitted to herself that by accepting Duncan's proposal of marriage she had settled for something wonderful and safe, but not passionate and exciting. Almost two years ago, Duncan dragged her out of her despair after being left broken hearted by her ex girlfriend. He put her back together, protected her and encouraged her as she struggled to stay sober. He fell in love with her, all of her. She fell in love with him, pieces of him.
His humor, smile and honestly immediately swept her off her feet. A few months into their relationship, his patience, kindness, selflessness and loyalty drove her past the point of no return. She knew he was the guy people waited a lifetime for. As their perfect relationship built on trust and admiration progressed, she never stopped to consider what was lacking. When he proposed two months ago, she eagerly accepted. She couldn't find a reason not to. She wasn't going to sit around and wait for someone better to waltz into her life.
Then came Emily: damaged, sarcastic, beautiful, mysterious Emily. After their heated exchange outside her house, Alison could no longer deny the gaping holes in her relationship with Duncan. One of which was the lack of communication when it came to addressing any perceived problems in their relationship. They never argued other than some quibbles. They both let everything slide. Put bluntly, Alison just didn't care enough to initiate a discussion that could result in an disagreement.
The other night, the overwhelming need to share her hurt, anger and disappointment with Emily drove her to chase the woman to her car. She needed Emily to hear her scream and wanted to hear Emily scream in return. It had been so long since she'd emotionally fought with someone that she almost veered the argument into a ditch, but Emily steered both of their comments on a road toward resolution, albeit a shaky one. They didn't tear each other down, they voiced their emotions and sought reconciliation, which they reached in a rather amusing way.
She and Duncan had everything a functional couple could want or need, but she didn't crave him. Yes, she needed his presence, support and love, but she didn't need his touch to coax life into her. She didn't wake up every morning overflowing with anticipation to feel his hand in hers or his lips on hers. She needed him in her everyday life, but she didn't ache for him to blanket her in pleasure.
With Emily, it was the exact opposite. She didn't know her well enough to trust or admire her, but every pleasure center inside her caught fire at the mere thought of her. Emily was a catalyst to her realization, but not the reason to destroy her relationship. She just recognized that she didn't have a burning passion with Duncan. What they had would never last. That was an issue totally separate from her unresolved feelings for the brunette who had barged into her life. Tonight, she was going to do something about it.
"Am I boring you?" Emily ducked under the lane divider separating them and swam toward the musing woman.
"Oh, I'm fine," Alison commented.
Emily hoisted herself upward and tucked her forearms over the edge to Alison's left. "I think I am," she noted with a smirk.
"This is for you, not me."
"Ah," Emily pushed herself back into the pool and tread water a few feet from the blonde. "Isn't that selfless of you?"
"It is," Alison smiled.
With a serious expression, Emily dipped her head downward as if trying to work up courage, "Alison. I… I need to tell you something. And I…" she breathed before looking back up, "I shouldn't…"
Very curious and a bit nervous, the blonde whispered, "Emily. You can tell me."
Weakly, the brunette asked, "Are you sure? Because I can't take it back. And I…"
"Please. Say it."
Glancing down one more time, Emily inched forward and sighed, "Okay." Before Alison could blink, the brunette snagged both of her wrists and yanked her into the cold water beside her.
When Alison surfaced, she sputtered, "Emily Fields?! Are you kidding me?!" She started splashing water in the laughing woman's direction.
"I'm sorry!" the brunette screamed over the noise.
"You're sorry?!" Alison yelled back. She kicked water and clawed at her blonde locks trying to get them out of her face.
"That's what I needed to tell you," she replied with a straight face, "I mean, after I pulled you in."
Alison's irritation surrendered to amusement. She didn't care about her soaked dress, her makeup or her perfect hair. She laughed right along with the brunette who had now pulled off her goggles and cap and set them outside the pool. "I'm going to kill you in your sleep."
"Oh really?" Emily swam closer to the woman who had stopped frantically splashing.
"Yes," Alison replied with a gulp. She was captivated by the small drops of water dripping down the brunette's face and off her nose and lips. She couldn't help but wish her fingers could trace the trails the water left behind.
"Do you plan on being close to me when I'm sleeping?" Emily teased as she settled two feet away from Alison. "Close enough to kill me?"
Regardless of her impulses, the blonde simply replied, "I have my ways."
"Huh," Emily said. After a moment of silence, the swimmer asked, "Why did you call Hanna?"
Jolted by the serious turn in conversation, Alison stammered, "I uh. Umm. I was worried."
"Worried?" Emily echoed with an unreadable expression.
"After the other day I just… I was worried," she struggled to explain. "I have certain things that settle me down if I ever get really upset. I figured you had to have one too."
"So Hanna told you and you went out and bought swim suits, goggles and a swim cap just to…"
"You know what," Alison replied.
"Yeah," Emily nodded. "I do. Thank you. Really."
Alison memorized and tucked away another notable expression on the brunette's face. "You're welcome."
"I have something else to tell you. Well, it's really more of a question."
"Shoot."
"Have you ever heard of waterproof mascara?"
"Oh god," Alison's hands flew to her face. She knew she probably looked like she was bleeding black ink from her eyes.
Chuckling, Emily swam forward. "Chill out. It's not that bad." She gently pulled Alison's hands away from her face. "Okay, I lied. It looks really bad."
"Hey!" the blonde slapped the other woman playfully on the shoulder.
Emily slowly brought her hands up to Alison's face. "It's nothing that can't be fixed." She cupped Alison's face in her hands and slowly rubbed the area beneath her eyes with her thumbs. "Close your eyes. Chlorine tends to sting." As Emily wiped off the mascara and splashed a little water under her eyes, Alison reveled in the swimmer's proximity and the tingling feeling of the brunette's fingers gliding across her face. She was glad her eyes were closed. She wouldn't trust herself if they were open.
"I need the pool for swim practice in half an hour," a voice called from a few yards away. Alison thought the voice sounded familiar and not in a good way. She was right. Her eyes opened to see Paige McCullers, who was now the swim coach of Rosewood High, staring down at the two of them with judgement shooting out of her eyes.
Taking Alison's hand under water, Emily swam toward the stairs as she answered, "No worries, Paige. We're getting out."
Perfect. Just perfect. Alison thought as Emily helped the sopping wet blonde out of the pool and strolled past Paige to the towel and sandals by the side of the pool.
As Alison stood there shivering, Paige commented, "You look like a drowned rat."
Alison was shocked that Paige spoke to her that way. Before she could snap back, Emily wrapped the towel around her shoulders and replied, "She's the cutest drowned rat I've ever seen and you can see through her clothes." She flashed a sarcastic smile at Paige and said, "I'm gonna go grab a couple more towels."
Actually relieved that Emily left her to her own devices, Alison settled into her overly confident stance and default defensive facial expressions.
Paige noted, "For future reference, that's not the proper attire for the pool."
"Sorry," the blonde apologized with a fake smile. "I didn't plan on swimming. Emily pulled me in."
Paige scrunched up her face in disgust.
With a pouting face, Alison purred, "Aww. Are you jealous she didn't pull you in and get you wet?" While on the phone with Hanna, Alison had been filled in on Emily's past with the current swim coach.
With a fixed jaw, the other woman replied with disdain, "I'm just sad to see that Emily has lowered her standards."
"You wish," Alison scoffed, "that they were lowered to the level of a chick who tried to drown her in this pool?"
"No. Lowered to the girl that treated every single person in this school like a punching bag," Alison remained composed. That wasn't anything she hadn't heard before. Paige continued, "I guess it's true. She really will sleep with anything that moves."
Alison threw back with ease, "Well, apparently you're in a lower category all together because she still hasn't slept with you. You do move right?"
"At least I'm not engaged."
"Paige. Lay off," a perturbed Emily called out as she entered the room.
"I'm sorry, but—"
"Bullshit. You're not sorry at all," she commented when she reached Alison's side. "Please leave. We'll be out of here in ten minutes."
"What are you doing with her?" Paige asked Emily as if the woman in question wasn't standing two feet away.
"I don't defend my friendships or any other kind of relationships to anyone, especially someone who can't move on past shit that happened in high school," the swimmer spat back.
"You used to be a lot nicer."
"Ya know," Emily nodded before answering honestly, "The world can kick you in the teeth sometimes and I chose to kick it back in the fucking face."
"Well, you can do better than her."
Alison was completely fed up with Paige at this point. She opened her mouth to shred the woman to slivers, but Emily placed a hand lightly on her lower back and spoke instead, "You're right. I could totally do better than someone who is successful, beautiful, funny, passionate and I found out today that she's very thoughtful. God, what am I thinking?"
"She's engaged!"
"I never said we were together and I'll say this only once—we are not together."
"Actions speak louder than words."
"Really? Thanks, Grandma," Alison chuckled. "Thanks for the words of wisdom."
"Alright. You stay, Paige. We'll leave," Emily determined as she walked over to collect her and Alison's bags from the ground.
"I heard that's what you do now," Paige snapped at the swimmer. "You run straight into a bottle."
Alison smacked the woman across the face before she knew what was happening. She exclaimed, "How dare you?"
"Alison. Let's go," Emily stepped to the fuming girl's side.
"No," Alison insisted, "What human being says that to someone who has a drinking problem?"
"Alison. Seriously."
"Emily, no," the blonde exclaimed. "You can't let her talk to you like that."
"She's not worth it," Emily offered flatly. "She really isn't." She nodded toward the door and said, "Let it go."
With one last look of contempt searing through the swim coach, Alison pushed past the woman intentionally hitting her shoulder to throw the woman off balance.
Paige called out to the pair, "Maybe you two deserve each other."
Obviously not interested in forming an intelligent response, Emily responded as any irritated person pushed to the edge would, "Just shut the fuck up already."
Alison snorted as they walked into the hall, "That was mature of you."
"Like I said, she's not worth it."
"And you're stealing towels," Alison pointed out.
With a smile, Emily replied, "This is how I got the Porsche: one towel at a time."
The two women joked all the way to Alison's car. On the drive to Emily's house, Alison said, "Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I'm hosting a charity auction for youth at risk for drug and alcohol addiction at my restaurant in Philadelphia on Tuesday night. You should come and bring whoever you can as long as they have money."
"Snob."
"Umm no," Alison disagreed with a smile, "Smart. I'm trying to raise money, not just provide free food."
"There's food? I'll definitely be there."
"Good. I'll look for you," the blonde replied as she pulled into Emily's driveway. "And it's formal attire."
"Are you afraid I'll show up in this?" she motioned to her tank top and shorts.
"Kinda."
"You just wait," Emily replied as she pulled out her bag from behind the passenger seat. "I clean up nice."
"I'll believe it when I see it," Alison smirked. She couldn't wait to see it and to actually tell Emily how beautiful she looked.
The swimmer eased her way out of the car and ducked back down to say, "Is this an art auction for stupid canvases with paint thrown on them?"
"It's for the youth who will one day shape the world," Alison replied sarcastically.
Emily rolled her eyes, "It still involves paying for splatters."
"No respect for Pollock, I assume?"
"If he splatters for a living, no."
"Okay," the blonde waved the woman away from her car, "Get out of here before I start lecturing you on art appreciation."
"I'm going!" Emily laughed as she shut the door behind her. She offered a small wave as she headed into her house.
As the door closed behind the brunette, Alison pulled out her phone and dialed her friend. "Hey Spence. You're still driving tonight, right? And Aria's coming?" She breathed a sigh of relief at the response. "Good. Thank you for this. I couldn't do it without you guys." She paused before smiling, "See you later, Spence."
A knock on her car window made her jump, "Holy shit." Emily smirked on the other side of the glass. Alison rolled down the window and replied with her heart still pounding from the scare, "Don't do that!"
"Oh I'll be doing it again. That was adorable."
"So. Did you need something else?" Alison queried.
Emily propped her forearms on the bottom edge where the window used to be and said, "I forgot to say goodbye."
The blonde felt herself blushing. This woman didn't cease to amaze her. "Well, goodbye to you too."
"And also, don't listen to the crap Paige said."
"I wasn't."
Emily cocked an eyebrow, "I don't believe you. She's totally wrong. I couldn't do better than you." Alison felt her throat close up trapping the air in her lungs as Emily continued, "One thing I told Duncan the other night is that he's lucky to have you."
"Oh…" is all Alison could manage to say.
"The rest of the conversation was about my recovery. He was checking on me. Apparently, Hanna had been talking to him for years without me knowing."
Surprised that Emily offered this information freely when she worked so hard to conceal it the other night, the blonde queried quietly, "Why are you telling me this?"
Emily shrugged to pass off her response as casual, "I don't want you to think that he or I have anything to hide from you. It's not fair for me to expect him to keep secrets from you."
The explanation rendered Alison speechless. She had no idea how strong of a bond Emily had with Duncan. It frightened her. Now she dreaded what would unfold in the next few days even more. "Thank you," she replied.
"No problem," Emily replied before adding, "You should go take a shower. You reek of chlorine."
"Yeah. I will," the other woman offered weakly.
Either Emily didn't notice how rattled Alison was or she chose to ignore it. She skipped back inside her house and once again left the blonde in a driveway contemplating a decision. However, there was no going back. Everything was just far more complicated that she originally thought, which she didn't think was possible.
Seven hours later, Alison sat shaking in between Spencer and Aria on a metal chair in a smelly school gym. The three women sat in the front row of several rows of chairs. Her leg bounced up and down as her eyes studied the glossed wooden slats on the gym floor. Spencer, on her left, tenderly pressed her left hand onto the blonde's jumping thigh and slid her right arm around the shaking women's back. Both of Alison's hands squeezed Aria's tightly. Although slightly worried Alison might actually crack her fingers, Aria held her hands firmly and she whispered in her ear, "Ali, you can do this. We love you so much."
As a man standing behind the podium told his story, Alison felt her dinner slide up her throat. She had never been this nervous in her life. Her high school classmates would never believe that Alison DiLaurentis would be afraid to speak in front of a group. As Spencer rubbed circles on her back, she focused on what she was going to say. She needed to say this. She needed to say things out loud that she felt she never could. Her terror stemmed from the fact that she might as well be standing up there naked. Actually, she might prefer just standing up there naked than having to speak.
The man stepped away and a group leader spoke up asking who wished to speak next. Spencer's hand shot up and she motioned to the pale, ghost faced blonde. The brunette who volunteered her kissed her cheek and pushed her gently to her feet. With rocks in her stomach and a desert in her throat, Alison shuffled to the front of the room and grasped the podium for support. Just talk to Spencer and Aria. You'll be fine. She tried to reassure herself. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to look at her friends and she began, "Hi. My name is Alison and I'm an alcoholic." Spencer and Aria smiled. Alison couldn't help but notice tears pooling in Aria's eyes. She continued, "I'm about to do a terrible thing that I should have done a year ago."
Spencer nudged Aria when she paused and asked, "Did you know she wasn't wearing her ring?"
As Aria shook her head violently with a look of confusion, the blonde said, "I have to break my fiancé's heart and right now I'm afraid I'll be drinking for months after I do it."
Yes. That's a cliffhanger. :)
Once again, fluff is my weakness, but I hope it was satisfactory.