Author's Note: I tried to make it as not-confusing as possible. Each line break is a new setting/time. It's (for the most part) canon, with the exception of two sections. Enjoy!

Day Two-Hundred Thirty: Performance Art by Rachael Sage

He pulled away first.

He pulled away and I looked back at him with amazement, confusion, and newfound rapture. Something inside finally felt different. It was premature to call this a feeling of love—did I even know what love felt like?—but it was something powerful, certainly.

Everything else that happened was a bit of a blur. I watched him walk away. When he turned away, the head rush finally hit me. My breathing got shallow, like he sucked all of my breath away with just one kiss.

I tried to get my head back on straight. I was a Hastings, after all; I had to keep myself composed and proper. But part of me just wanted to scream with excitement. I supposed I hadn't really realized how much I wanted that kiss to happen until it happened.

It was perfect.

Stupid phone.

I got up when I heard my phone beep from across the room (albeit reluctantly).

"It's from Melissa. Ian never showed up at the church. She needs a ride," I said with subtle annoyance.

"I'll keep Jenna busy like you asked me to, but I wish I was going with you tonight," Toby responded.

I looked over at him. He was so sweet.

"Look," I began hesitantly, "I've never…had a safe place to land, but now I feel like I do." He smiled at that. His smile made me smile. "So I want you to stay safe."

"If you need anything tonight, I'll be there for you."

I think I felt my heart melt a little bit.

Was this fabled "love" I'd heard so much of?

"I love knowing that."

Immediately, I was a bit disappointed with myself. I knew the three little words I wanted to say to him, but I just couldn't bring myself to say. Once I said them, there was no going back. Then it would be expressed aloud and the whole world would know: I loved him. With love, there's always the risk of loss.

Instead, I leaned in to kiss him slowly. It felt perfect.

"I love that you're here, but I hate having to sneak around like…this," I stated as I tried to conceal my look of dissatisfaction, "stealing moments when no one's looking."

There was a pause for what felt like a billion years, like this night was eternal.

"We won't have to do this for long," he said finally. "When I was away last year, I apprenticed with a master carpenter. I'm not going back to school." Not going back? "I decided to get my GED and start my own business," Toby explained, like he could read my mind.

There was more eternal silence. This feeling of unease at the pit of my stomach would not go away. "Are you sure?"

He gave a small nod. "I've got all the tools I need to get started and…if I could get a few jobs, I think this could work out." He heard my thoughts of apprehension. "I'm good at this, Spencer," Toby insisted.

He was good at this, like he was certainly good at everything. "Will you make me something?" I asked more light-heartedly.

"I already have," he responded proudly and I was quite impressed, "but you'll get it when I get my own place because I think that's where you'll want to keep it."

I smiled. He reminded me of me sometimes. It was funny how he was my same and my polar opposite at the same time. "I'm intrigued." Much like I was intrigued with him.

He smiled at me. I loved his smile.

"Spencer!"

I walked over to the other side of the truck—his new truck—and tossed him the keys. "Take it. It's yours," I said happily.

"Are you crazy?!" he exclaimed, though the happiness was evident on his face. "Do you know how long it'll take for me to pay you back?"

Toby really thought I wanted him to pay me back. "Well you have a job tomorrow. In Yardley, right?" I could hardly contain the smile on my face now.

"I love you so much."

He said the three words I feared the most. It was out there now. There was no turning back.

"I wanted to say that first."

"I told him it didn't mean anything to you."

I took a deep breath as I looked over Rosewood. That was our spot. It made me feel sort of like Big Brother. I was so glad he showed me that spot so long ago, though that wonder did not make me feel better at the moment. "I'm sorry you had to lie," I apologized quietly.

"It doesn't matter," Toby insisted as he played with a twig to try and make me feel less awkward. Unfortunately, it was doing just the opposite.

"When I came down the stairs and I saw what he was doing, I thought, 'Oh my God…he thinks I killed her.'"

He frowned. He reached out to give me a comforting glance and rub on the shoulder. I shied away. "He couldn't think that. Nobody could," he maintained. I took a deep breath.

"He didn't. He thought it was a prop; he thought it was something that I made up just to cause trouble and be the center of attention." That was the way things had always been, I realized with sadness. "That's all he sees when he looks at me. And that's all he's ever going to see until we find out what happened," I insisted, discouraged and disillusioned. I sat down on the rock.

"Well, then we'll have to find out," he assured me as he took my hand firmly. His skin's contact with mine was enough to make me a little bit less…tense.

I continued in a more even tone. "Ali got up and walked away and then somewhere between the Kissing Rock and her back yard, somebody hit her."

"Are you thinking they hit her with your hockey stick?"

"The papers say that it was blunt forced-trauma, but they don't say what was used."

"That's the kind of stuff they never give in the newspapers. The police hold back details so that they don't have to deal with a lot of crack-pods."

A small part of me wanted to laugh. I could feel my face relaxing. "You think they know what was used?" I asked, more at-ease than I'd been the entire night.

"Cops always know more than they tell," he assured me.

I sighed before resting my head on his shoulder and looking out. "What do you think they'll do if they find out it was my hockey stick?"

"Oh, Spencer…your father burned the hockey stick."

I shrugged before trying to settle. I knew not what to say anymore about the situation. He just put his arm around me and I felt myself relax even more.

I limped up the stairs back to my room. It had been about a week since the girls and I got arrested for Alison's murder—which we hadn't committed.

A week. 168 hours. 10080 minutes. 604800 seconds. That was a long time to be stuck by yourself. That gave a person a lot of time to think. Although my brain wanted to spend it thinking about ways to get out, my heart only thought of Toby.

Who was I to complain about something like this? There were people with real problems in the world.

Perhaps this wasn't as pressing as the problems of other people in the world, but this was certainly my biggest problem. The only thing that would ever be worse than this would be losing Aria, Emily, and Hanna. He was another one of my best friends, too.

And what about all the things I'd wronged him for? I was trying to play the part of Devil's Advocate by thinking of things. All I really wanted was the best. But at the same time, I wanted him, too. What if I was not the best? I definitely felt like I wasn't as of recently.

"Don't you ever compare me to Alison."

My tone wasn't menacing in the typical way, but it was filled with toxin.

"Why not? Spencer, you're acting like her puppet."

"Alison is dead!" I exclaimed. I was almost sure I was so loud that the neighbors and anyone within a mile radius could hear. "Alison is dead, Toby! I'm not her puppet. I have my own mind and my own thoughts." In retrospect, I really hated being called Alison's puppet. I had my own morals and ideals and…well…empathy than Alison DiLaurentis. She wasn't the gilded girl everyone made her out to be and I knew that. I wanted nothing more to do with the Alison everyone hated.

"If Alison were here, she'd be playing with you girls like dolls you keep in the dollhouse. It feels like she still is even though she's not here." He went on to explain how the scene between the four of us felt like something out of a movie orchestrated by Alison. I couldn't blame him for thinking that, but at the same time, it made me so unbelievably annoyed.

I interrupted in the middle of his soliloquy. "I have to go." I heard him call my name. I felt bad to leave him there like that, but…I couldn't deal with this now.

For the first time in a long time, I cried. I sobbed uncontrollably. I wept and sniveled and moaned and sniffed and whimpered and boohooed. The same person who had loved me so much—and who I loved just as much, for that matter—now hated me. Hate was probably not even the right word for what he felt for me…he probably loathed me. Abhorred me. Despised me. I didn't know how I'd be able to handle that.

I tried to tell myself that it would be okay; I was a Hastings and the Hastings's were not weak. The Hastings's were built to thrive even in the face of adversity.

But I wasn't like the other Hastings's. All of them chided the mere thought of love and heart over head when it came to being decisive.

Well, maybe I was like them after all. I used my head perhaps where I should've used my heart.

He was breaking my heart, more than anyone ever had in the past.

I reached out to slap him. I wished I could slap him. How could he just pretend to hate me, even if only for a week or two? He had to have known that I already hated myself enough at that point…how did he think I was going to take his hate as well?

I didn't know what this feeling was anymore. Was it love or pure hatred and bile? Either way, it was passion.

Toby grabbed my hand as it was inches away from making contact with his cheek. Then, he pulled me in.

It was love, I had decided, because a moment later, I willingly kissed him back. Then, I smiled. He was mine again. There was nothing keeping us from each other anymore.

"You deserved an Oscar for that performance," I said after we pulled apart from each other, only to embrace each other once more in a hug. I heard him laugh but I still felt numb, like this was too good to be true.

"It was complicated, Spencer. I'm sorry," he whispered into my hair so only the two of us could hear.

"Well, let's un-complicate it."

Things began to get heated between Toby and me. He pushed me back on the bed of his new loft.

I knew Toby would never push me father than I wanted to go. But I was still confused about how far I wanted to go.

I'd always been told—not really by my parents, but mostly by other adults—that sex was something that happened between two people who truly loved each other and were truly devoted to each other due to the many consequences that sex possibly entailed. I knew I loved him more than anything and anyone else. Maybe more than anything else, I was scared and embarrassed. After all, I was still a virgin and he wasn't.

I held up my hand and pushed him away slightly as he pushed me onto the bed.

"I'm sorry, Toby. I'm just—"

"No. God, no, Spencer," he insisted as he rolled off of me and sat beside me. "I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

I smiled slightly. "I just…I want to wait until the time is perfect," I explained.

He nodded in response. "Okay. I'll wait for you. There's no rush. I love you and you love me. We don't need sex to prove that," he assured me.

I loved him so much.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. I really was sure. We'd waited for long enough to do this and I was absolutely positive I wanted to do this with him. I was almost as confident saying that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. "Yes." I squirmed a bit as he picked me up. He'd held me so many times, but this time was different than all the rest.

He let me slide back on the bed after I'd gotten rid of his shirt.

It felt like the flames of a fire in the bottom of my stomach and the scorching was going all across my body. This was a sensation I'd never experienced before.

Not much later, I'd discovered what people meant when they said that sex with the right person was amazing. Toby was the right person. I was sure of it.

As stupid and pious as it sounded, I knew faith wanted the two of us to find each other romantically. I didn't need to be religious to know or believe that.

"I don't want you to go," I complained as he held my hands and stared at them.

Toby frowned. "I don't want to go, either. But…I have to now," he said with some remorse coloring his voice.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I love you," I uttered quietly. I'd said it before, but only a handful of times. This time, something was different. I think I knew that with every fiber of my being, I loved him.

I slid down my bedroom door in utter disbelief and coldness. I felt dead inside. These feelings of emotionlessness lasted for about ten seconds before everything clicked into place. There was no moon, no stars, no light…there was only doom.

Toby had betrayed me.

Toby. Toby. The same Toby I was once so sure would've fought tooth and nail for me. He betrayed me in the worst possible way.

How could he do this to me? I never thought of him as an actor. I never saw him as being so wicked that he could deceive and cuckold me like this. His sincerity and his…his eyes belied his inner malevolence.

Something in me hated him so much, but most of me was just hurt. I felt like I could die, just from a broken heart. My soul was already broken; there was nothing more of me.

And I still loved him. That was what was left of my soul and of my heart: pure, untainted love for Toby Cavanaugh. He had played me like such a fool. I might as well have just died right then and there.

But what satisfaction would that give him? A lot. Too much. I was going to survive, just to spite him and in spite of him. I was a Hastings, after all; I was made to survive adversity.

Dead. Dead was what I was. Toby was dead now, too.

Why did I still care if this, this…monster and this fiend was still alive? Clearly, he did not care in the slightest about me. Perhaps he never had. He certainly never would.

I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that he had been playing me the whole time. The love I once had withered away to hate. The daylight dwindled and I found my patience going with it, not just for him, but for life in general.

I was sick of living. I was sick of dying, too. Why couldn't I just be dead? Why couldn't I be a stale corpse rotting away in the ground? What a simple time that would be.

If I was being totally honest, days just seemed like dark, endless nights now; I never really got to see the light of day, anyway. Not behind these oppressive bars of Radley. I might as well just die.

I just couldn't shake this burning desire I had for him.

This was not something I'd typically do. A year and a half ago, I never would've thought that I'd be dating Toby Cavanaugh, much less be in love with him, much less be sleeping with him in a shady motel in the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania.

But I was not the same person I was a year and a half ago, I suppose. And most of me thought this was irrational, irresponsible behavior, especially after he just betrayed me, but a lot of me also just thought carpe diem.

I moaned. I'd had some (involuntary) wet dreams during our time apart, but it simply wasn't the same. Toby knew exactly where to touch me. He knew me better than I knew myself. He knew what made me moan.

I won't bore you with the bloody, hot details, but to quote Edgar Allan Poe, we loved with a love that was more than love.

"I'm really sorry. I know I disappointed you and my parents and my friends, but…I mean…" I trailed off. "I just don't know what else to say. I don't have any excuses or any reasons why I did it. I guess…I'm just slipping. I'm not as strong as I used to be." I was met with silence. "Please say something to me."

There was more silence until he finally responded. "I'm sorry."

I was stunned for a moment. "You're sorry? What do you have to be sorry about?" I inquired. "You did nothing wrong."

"But I did, Spencer," he insisted. I could feel his self-frustration. "I should've seen it a while ago. You've had so much going on recently and…you probably didn't even realize that there was anything bad happening. I should've. I'm around you enough and I feel like I know you well enough that I can recognize when something is wrong."

I sighed. "It's not your fault. Apparently, I did a pretty good job at hiding it. Not even the girls could see it. You don't have to feel bad."

"I want to fix you."

"You did."

"No," he said firmly. "No, Spencer," he said more evenly, "you're the only one who can fix you. I can help you. But you have to find your own strength. And you're a natural fighter, Spencer." I nodded, even though Toby couldn't see it over the phone.

"I love you," I said finally.

I felt a little shiver when Toby ran his fingers through my hair. It hadn't been long since I'd seen him last, but I was happy to have him around.

"Has Alison been bothering you?" he inquired.

I scoffed. "She's practically made a confederation against me. Emily's probably pissed and Aria and Hanna want me to be more sympathetic…" I groaned. "I just don't get how they can't see that she's playing them like dolls like she used to play with all of us," I said before taking a sip of coffee.

"Have you ever considered…maybe Alison has changed?"

I put the cup down, disillusioned. "Toby…people never change. They get older. Their physical appearance may change. But people don't change suddenly."

"Sometimes, they do. They grow, Spence," he insisted. "I've changed. You've changed, for the better. Maybe Ali has, too."

I thought for a moment. "How are you so passive with her when she used to torture you ruthlessly?"

He mused and then shrugged. "I don't really know. I guess…I want to see her become a better person after all of this. I know that some part of you cares about her, Spencer. She was your friend once."

"Some friend," I responded bitterly.

"But you still saw her as your friend. You still loved her."

Even though I wanted to deny that I ever had any sympathy or good feeling about Alison DiLaurentis, I knew I couldn't; he was right. At least Toby was still around to remind me that even Alison DiLaurentis had a heart.

"I'm just so sick of feeling like the victim," I confessed as he leaned close to me. Suddenly, the smell of manure really hit me. "And I'm also sick of smelling like animal crap."

He just rubbed his thumb on the side of my face. "You're not a victim. Spencer Hastings isn't a victim. At least…you don't play the victim."

I didn't respond to that. I didn't know how.

"Spencer, I don't want you to feel helpless. That's why I'm doing this," Toby told me, interrupting my thoughts.

"But is that the only reason why? I don't want you to be stuck doing something all because of me, your helpless girlfriend who's incapable of protecting herself…"

"Don't you ever say that," he said. I just sighed. "I want to find out what happened, and if this is the way to do it, then I'm all for it."

I smiled slightly as he continued to nurse my blackish eye. Toby was such a good person. I still didn't know how I became so lucky to have him.

I looked over to see Toby standing alone, separate from the crowd of relatives of the new graduates. I ran over to him and gave him a hug. I loved being greeted by the arms I loved just as much.

"Were you here the whole time?" I asked with excitement.

"Of course. You didn't honestly think I'd miss one of the most important days of the life of my favorite person in the world, did you?" he inquired. I shook my head before pulling him in for a kiss. I didn't care about anyone staring at that point.

"Thank you for being here, though."

He just smiled. I looked back at my mom, who was talking to Hanna's mom, Ashley, and Aria's mom, Ella. She just gave me a knowing smile.

"So are you going to a party or something later? Isn't that what high school graduates do?" he inquired.

I just laughed at him. "You sound like someone who graduated like fifty years ago," I said before kissing him again on the cheek. "There's only one person I really want to spend the remainder of the day with," I explained. "I'm staring at him right now."

Toby looked over his shoulder to amuse me/annoy me, but there was nobody behind him (ha ha, the joke was on him!) so he turned around. "Me?"

"Yes, of course, you. You were one of the people who helped me survive high school…literally, sometimes," I insisted. "And plus, the girls are roped into all of their own family things, so you don't have to feel bad about dragging me away from them. I spent the last four years with them. I want to spend more time with you."

"You already have the rest of your life to do that."

The words sort of just hit me. I sort of thought about them, but at the same time, they weren't being processed by my brain. "What?"

"I said," he began, "you already have the rest of your life to spend time with me. If that's what you want. I know that's what I want."

Was what I thought was happening actually happening?

He pulled out a simple silver ring. "It's not an engagement ring and this isn't a proposal of the usual sort—I have something with much more grandeur planned out for that—but it's a…well, it's a promise, as the name implies," he explained.

I bit my lip to try and keep the squeal that was threatening to come out at any moment suppressed.

"Yes, of course."

And that was the first day of the rest of my life.

Guest:I'd ask what you're learning but SOB I CAN'T ANSWER BECAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE AN ACCOUNT AND THIS IS IT NOOO. THANK YOU ANGEL FACE.

Guest: Hmm...okay? If that floats your boat, sure. I am sincerely going to try to finish or get in better footing with my other stories before I start a new one, but I have like a billion ideas, soooo...I always have something :) I'm also working on finishing my own book by 2015, so when I actually finish that, I'll have more time for fanfic. Thank you for reviewing!

AL3110: Aww. I just want Marina now. Like right now. Um...I'm pretty sure noir means black and blanc means white. I know AL is so frustrated. I sent you a message with my fairy makeup. Kabason is complete now. I love you sooooo much.

Guest (Emily): It was very long! Over 4.000 words! Thank you so much! I couldn't have done it without you.

I'M CRYING BECAUSE IT'S OVER

jk I'm too tired to cry but really I am actually so sad.

But of course, I want to thank EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER READ ANY SECTION OF THIS STORY because damn you guys are the bestest. I want to thank everyone who's reviewed because they're cool. I want to thank anyone who has ever favorited/followed me or any of my stories because damn you guys are awesome. And lastly, I want to thank Marina for having one of the best videos of all time (I mean #froot even though it's literally just spinning apples). Thank you thank you thank you thank you! -Kayson