Author's Note: This day is not special. I am not special. This is not special. This day was the shite. And not in a good way.

Day Ninety-Nine: Get Back In My Life by Maroon 5

She smiled at me and I almost hated her for it. I knew on some levels, that was unfair, considering there was no way she could control what I felt. But at the same time…she did—or, I let her, I guess—and I knew that she knew it.

"Do you want to get out of here?" she asked with a small hopeful look on her face.

I sighed. It was like I already knew I was defeated. I wondered if she liked this kind of torture, because this was torturous.

Though every part of that part of the brain which is theoretically my "heart" was telling me to say yes, the rest of it—the parts with the common sense—said I had to get out of it. Hesitantly, I shook my head. "I have to be in work early tomorrow," I insisted uneasily. For a split second, I was proud of myself for finally mustering up the guts to say that to her. That pride quickly dissipated.

She pouted a bit. "Okay," she whispered back, quietly. The disappointment was clear as a bell. "I should probably go, too," she said before getting up. "Thanks for meeting me," she added lifelessly.

I felt bad, but at the same time, I knew she probably wouldn't care by the end of the night.

After a few moments of sitting and thinking—though the shots of liquor we took were clearly starting to get to my head, as the room began to look blurry—I got up and left. As soon as I stepped outside, I took a cigarette out of my pocket. I knew if Emily saw me smoking, she'd probably give me some giant, winded, damned lecture about how horrible smoking was for your lungs and your brain and god-forbid your reproductive system, but Emily wasn't there, so I didn't really care. And then I thought about how Hanna would make some joke about how alcohol was extremely flammable and I should take care when lighting any type of fire, as I was certainly 100-proof. I shook my head lightheartedly. I really wasn't that drunk.

Still, the world began to fade right before my eyes. It got about a thousand shades darker. I can't describe it. It was that sort of feeling that you had to experience before you could even begin to understand it.

"Spencer."

My lack of shirt suddenly made me extremely uncomfortable and became oddly humiliating.

Spencer didn't even try to hide the fact that she was examining my body. I felt kind of like a piece of meat. All of a sudden, my skin began to feel tight over my body, like I'd never be free of her scrutiny. But I still didn't fight it.

"I…sorry for walking out on you yesterday," she said, finally pulling her eyes off my chest. "I just…I kind of felt like you left me high and dry."

If only she knew just how opposite things truly were. If anything, she was the one who started something she didn't bother to finish, even if unintentionally.

"I'm sorry you felt that way," I mumbled.

She narrowed her eyes at me out of piqued curiosity. "That's not a real apology."

"Well, I'm not sorry for what I did."

I couldn't believe I just said that to her.

"Why?" she inquired softly.

I was a bit taken aback by that one simple word. She could be so pushy sometimes. But that stupid fricking "heart" of mine didn't seem to mind; she was worth it and gorgeous.

"I just feel as though you don't realize…" he contemplated stopping right then and there, but decided to continue. "I feel as though you see how much I adore you and you kind of just play along with it."

She stepped back, clearly confused. "I'm not…I wouldn't do that to you," she insisted.

"But Spencer—"

I felt her lips on mine. It was like a kiss I had imagined in my head at least fifty times over, but it felt about a thousand times better than I ever imagined.

My "heart" felt relieved to have her finally feel the same way, but it felt too good to be true.

But in the meantime, I'd take whatever I could get.

Quickly, I pulled her into the apartment and shut the door behind her. No sooner than I had done that, she pushed me up against the wall and continued to kiss me. Although it felt good, I couldn't help but feel…trapped. Both literally and figuratively. She was all I had been waiting for, but there was too much fear for me to really enjoy the moment.

Soon after the act was over and we collapsed on my bed, I couldn't help but feel paranoia. It was all-too familiar. She was going to leave again, and I'd be the one to crawl back to her. She'd know how much I missed her and eventually give in. Or maybe it was even revenge for leaving her high and dry the other day. Maybe she'd tease me because she knew I couldn't resist. She'd use her smile and her charm and probably—and this was the most menacing thought of them all—her miles and miles of legs to torture me. And she'd put me through all of this because she knew I couldn't say no to her again.

I wondered what went on in her beautiful mind as she was trying to catch her breath.

"Have I really been missing all of that?" she mumbled softly to herself.

It almost made me feel insecure and I couldn't even pinpoint why.

The nerves settled back in. I could feel her getting up and getting dressed and leaving me. I could picture myself just lying despondently in bed for the rest of the day, trying to figure out what I had fucked up this time. I was already beginning to theorize the ways I could try and get her to talk to me again.

But she took me by surprise and cuddled up to me. She didn't say anything, but began rubbing circles on my chest. There was this weird, tingly feeling which accompanied her touch. It was almost sickening, but just enough to be intoxicating.

It placated my thoughts for the rest of the day. And even the rest of the week. And the rest of the month, too. In fact, I've been feeling more peaceful ever since that happened and it's happened multiple times. I get to kiss her and see her on a daily basis and she assures me I won't have to worry about her leaving.

But I felt like that day would just come, and then I'd have to beg on my hands and knees for her to come back.

LittleBittyAbby: I did...decently on my final exam essays. I sucked at math. You should just put it up and see if anyone reads and if anyone likes. Or if not, think about it for a little. But I think you should do it. And how was that dance? Mine sucked and I left early to watch the PLL premiere last year.

AussieMizzie:If someone changed my name, I'd be like, "Lol, no. Change it back." Have fun! Doesn't it premiere in Australia on Friday?

tobyequalshottness:The more people ask me this damn question, the more inclined I am to make Spencer infertile so it won't happen. It will happen! Soon-ish. I'm not going to answer this question again. Like really, the next time someone asks me this question, I'm not even going to answer.

Sarah:Eh, it's just I'm a tadbit lactose intolerant, so eating some dairy products (cheese especially) sometimes makes me feel a little bit sick. But I can eat froyo and stuff. Sometimes if I have stuff with dairy on a relatively empty stomach, I begin to feel sick. It's really gross and really sad because I like some stuff with milk. I really don't like salad. Oh, except for the fruit kind with raspberries and apples and strawberries and peanuts and lettuce. It's really good. Ooh, and grapes. Yum. I just don't like vegetables. Except for broccoli. Broccoli...that's the shite. So are you vegetarian? Because sorry, I love chicken. I'm not as big a fan of red meat, but I do enjoy chicken.

AL3110:I cannot write smut. Just...I can't. Like, I have no real problem with reading it, but I cannot write it to save my life. Just...you wouldn't even want to read smut written by me.

I hate everything because of my frickin Math test. It's not even frickin fair because like everyone in my class got around an 81. I got a 77 and now they will most likely pull me out of honors math. I'm so damn pissed. And my teacher won't even curve the frickin test. Like...I can't. My whole day was ruined because of this damn test, and legit, I did not get less than a 93 on any of my other exams (93- History; 109 [whut]- Bio [double whut]; 95- English [but no, some damn kid had to get a 99...]; 95- Spanish; 99- Latin) and I got a frickin 77 on my geometry final. One of these things does not belong: 93, 109, 95, 95, 99, 77. I wonder which one.

So aside from the fact that I'm pissed, I know Sarah will be super-pumped because tomorrow's one-shot is by her husband. It's The A Team by Ed Sheeran which I actually kind of like even in this dumb pissy mood.

BTW, for anyone who's interested, I liveblog on my Tumblr on #PLLDay (aka Tuesdays). My tumblr is thefaketeam and please excuse my attempts to be humourous. So I will begin liveblogging at 8PM EST/5PM PST. Yes? I think so. And I think either 12 or 1 AM GMT, so if any of you live in London and want spoilers, maybe check back tomorrow. And AL, it'll be up at 2AM, but you'd better be in bed. Okay?

Okay. -Kayson