Thank you, all you lovely people, for reviewing, and favouriting, and following! So, in this chapter... Emily meets Tweedledum, Tweedledee, learns a lot from Aria, talks about labryinthes, and eats her first bufriedo.
the right wrong thing
how will i ever get out of this labyrinth?
— simon bolivar
Alison hands Emily the cigarette, and Emily is left to ponder whether to actually smoke it, or just leave it for later—did cigarettes have an expiry date? Pointedly, Ali looks at Emily, as if she's reading this new issue of The Life and Times of Emily Fields, and Emily's smile falters as her cheeks blush a lovely shade of crimson.
"You've never... smoked, have you?" Ali raises her eyebrows—Emily shakes her head in disagreement (it's not even a lie!), and Ali's eyebrows shoot up even more. Emily can vaguely recall the last time she actually held onto a cigarette and (attempted to) smoke—it was around about the time she was fifteen or so, still locked up in the closet, when she'd come across a beautiful, dark-skinned, dark-haired, wild girl, who smoked weed, and smoked cigarettes, and did absolutely everything. Emily had fallen for her, but how could she not?
"I have," Emily nods. "Once."
"Ali, leave it alone," Spencer remarks, and she ignores it.
"It's the stuffiness," declares Alison, and she tugs at Emily's top, pulling her outside. "Let's go by the lake." The other's follow, and Emily notices how they all seem on the brink of running back, and arguing, but in the end, they all seem to do what Ali wishes. Emily's gaze drifts off to Alison, and she wonders exactly how people come into power—like the president of the US, like the Queen, like her.
"You know," starts Emily. "I'd rather not get into trouble."
Alison looks over her shoulder to a cabin on the top of the hills elsewhere. "Chill, the Eagle doesn't go into all beserker until term starts, so we'll be fine."
Emily almost splutters on her still un-smoked cigarette. "I... who's the Eagle."
"Wilden," Alison answers coolly. "He can be a bit frightening at times, but that's just of past experience, being an ex-detective and all. But usually he's like the rest of us—he smokes, he spliffs, he tells us off, then laughs, then laughs some more, and then sleeps." Emily nods at this, but isn't sure whether to say anything about... him.
Alison tosses Aria, Spencer, and Hanna each a cigarette, and then turns back to Emily. "You want to know something, Emily?"
Emily looks at her confusedly, but slowly nods.
"You've got really nice shoulders," Ali says, and Emily wonders if the smoke has gone to her head. "As in amazing shoulders—girls kill for those kind of shoulders, you know. And you've got 'em."
"Oh," Emily blushes again. "I—I—swim. Well, I used to. Back at my old school."
"Oh!" Ali grins. "Where are you from?"
"T-Texas," stutters Emily.
Alison's eyes twinkle. "So, did they call you, like, the Texan Butterfly, or, like, the Texas Stroker?" Ali laughs at this.
"Wh-what?" Emily stammers, and when she catches Ali's wink, she almost freaking melts. "Well. Yes, actually. Butterfly's my forte—not terrible good at... backstroke-ing."
"Relax, Em, it's a joke," Alison rolls her eyes, and takes another puff from her cigarette. "So, you're not going to—" Ali's gaze flickers from Emily's hand, to above her head, where two boys walk in—one has chin-lengthed black hair, and the other has short brown hair. In another world, if Emily was straight, she guesses she would be able to find them "cute". Emily shuts her mouth, and lets Alison do all the welcoming. "If it isn't our two chimpanzees—Em, this is our very own Tweedledum and Tweedledee."
"Oh, yes, and she's our very own joker, isn't she?" the one with longer hair remarks cynically.
"Wrong book. And plus, it's a movie," Ali rolls her eyes. "So, Dumb, and Dumber, how is life going?"
Spencer speaks up. "Once again, Emily, Ali's talking trash. The guy with long hair is Caleb, and he's Hanna's boyfriend. The other guy is my boyfriend, Toby."
"Oh," is all Emily says. "I'm, uh, Emily."
"She's the Texan Stroker," grins Alison. "Oh, and she learns famous people's last words."
Toby turns, and gives Emily a warm smile. "I take it you swim, then?" He lowers his voice. "It's been years of practice, but I've learnt how to decipher the grand words of the Alison."
"Oh," Emily says, a little jolted. "Yes, I do swim. Well, I used to."
"Yeah," Caleb speaks up. "Rosewood Day's not exactly the school for jocks. It's more like a... if you're a fuck-up, come fuck it up here kind of school. But you'll fit in—everyone fits in, one way or another."
Emily's not quite sure if she'll take that as "pearls of wisdom".
"So," Aria starts as they make their way back to their dormitories—in a short space of, she doesn't know, two hours or so, Emily has smoked her first proper cigarette, almost been murdered by that murderous swan across the lake, and probably made at least ten wrong choices. "What do you think of Alison?"
Emily thinks for a second. Well, you see, I think she's bloody amazing, and the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Yeah, I think I'm smitten. Instead, she says, "She's... quite something."
"Basically, she's delusional," Aria says, and Emily nods, because aside being absolutely flawless, she is a bit... shambolic. "I think she likes you, though."
"How do you know that?" says Emily, maybe a little quicker than she would have wished to.
"Because she hasn't tried to a) drown you in the lake with that killer swan, b) give you spliff that'd probably kill at least seventy-five people, and finally, c)... yeah, I don't have a c)," Aria almost almost laughs. "It's okay. Say it with me, 'Alison DiLaurentis is a crazy, unstable creature'..."
Emily doesn't follow on, but asks, "Why does she have a single?"
"Ah," Aria starts. "She shared it with this girl called Jenna, but then she got caught by the Eagle, committing the Trifecta. This other guy, Noel, got expelled with her."
Emily looks at her strangely, and asks, "What's the Trifecta?"
"The Trifecta?" says Aria. "Well, it's the performance of the three most forbidden things here at Rosewood Day. Meaning, drugs, cigarettes, and, uh... genital contact. Either way, they abused their privileges."
"But—"
"Yeah, we know, we all do," Aria says. "Ali does at least two of three every day. That's why there are rumours circling around that someone ratted them out. I mean, they were hidden enough, too. And the Eagle isn't exactly the smartest guy around."
"Right," nods Emily. They reach their dormitory, and as soon as they enter the room of puke green, Emily collapses onto the bottom bunk—the smoke seemed to have already reached her head, and she can just about smell the fumes, barely, but just about.
"Aria!" a voice shouts from outside. "Aria, can you hear me?"
"Ignore it," states Aria. "That's just Mike. Mom took all his spliff, so he's left with nothing."
"O-okay," Emily stutters.
"You know, Alison wasn't always that insane," Aria says thoughtfully when they're both tucked up in bed. The lamp is off already, and it's pitch black. "I think it happened after her mom died. When she was around thirteen. Then, her dad left, and she lost her mind."
"She's all alone then?" asks Emily.
"She's got her... brother," Aria says, with some difficulty, but then shakes it off as if it's nothing. "But he's trying to keep them both alive, so she usually just stays here at school." Pause. "Ali might be positively insane for all the good reasons, but I don't think Sam deserved that."
Emilly only nods again, because she can't find the right words.
"She was a sweet girl," Aria sighs. "And Alison broke her heart."
"Her?" Emily's unsure if she heard correctly—her?
"Yep," Aria says, and Emily doesn't know whether to celebrate, ot hibernate under the thin, thin duvet covers. "Alison likes to switch around a lot. I think she likes being with people, but it never really makes sense in her world, 'cause she hates being tied down. I remember what she said, quoting, 'I am not a tiger being sacrificed'. No, nothing really makes sense in her world. And I've known her since I was twelve."
They say nothing for a while, but Emily knows when Aria's asleep, because she can hear the light snores echo ever so quietly in the room.
The sunlight almost blinds Emily.
She's up and out of bed, and she's all pumped up (not because she's on the way to see Alison, promise, promise) and ready to go, when bam, the incandescent rays of the closest star to Earth manages to damage her retina, or something, because she... cannot... see.
"You're up early," Aria groans, and she climbs down the ladder of the bunk bed.
"Uh... yeah." Emily's never been good at snarky comebacks.
"Hey, Emily, ever tried a bufriedo?" asks Aria, and she scrapes her hair into a bun.
"N-no..." Emily replies.
"Well, get dressed quickly, my love," Aria grins (she actually grins!). "because you are about to be amazed."
Emily thinks that they should have a new event in the Olympics—bufriedo-making, because there is surely nothing better than your first bite into that fried bean burrito of heavenly goodness.
Aria takes her to a circular table with some red chairs around it, and they sit and wait for the others to join them. Spencer and Hanna, with their boyfriends, arrive, and they are shortly followed by Alison.
"Hi, Smidge," Ali waves to Aria. "Hefty, Susan. And co." Alison then turns her head, and at the sight of Emily, gives her a lopsided grin that's so freaking adorable that Emily is almost unable to contain herself. "Hi, Nice-Shoulders-I-Need-To-Get-You-A-Nickname." She takes the empty seat—the one between Emily and Spencer.
"Hey, Ali," Emily smiles at her. Just as she says this, another girl approaches their table, one almost as glamourous as Ali is. Her hair is dark, and in curls, and she steals a glance at Hanna, who looks at her most apologetically. Emily wants to ask why no one is speaking, until Ali mouthes something at the others, making that girl roll her eyes and walk away. Hanna is staring at Alison as if she's just been betrayed, and the others are all averting eyes.
Once all the bufriedos are all in the process of being digested, Alison takes Emily's hand, and they run towards her single, moving swiftly past all the others.
"So, I had a question for you," Alison says, and she then proceeds to pick out a book from the oh so crowded bookshelves by the right side. "Aria and Hanna are too ignorant for me to ask them, and Spencer will think I'm the ignorant one—I wouldn't ask the two potheads if I was given the world, and you seem pretty smart. This has been bothering me since I first picked the book up." She stops. "Have you heard of a Simon Bolivar?" Before Emily can even consider an answer, she carries on. "The General in His Labrynth. Written by Gabriel Garcia Marquez." She holds up a small hardback before them, and when Emily shakes her head, she turns the page, one that seems worn-out, and used a lot—Emily guesses she's done a lot of thinking on this. Emily knows for sure that she probably won't be able to answer her whatever she has to ask.
Alison lights a cigarette, and tells her, "It's a historical novel, so I guess we can't mark all his words, but it's the guy's last words that puzzles me. And intrigues me. In the best way possible, of course."
Emily nods silently, and lets Alison read the passage:
"He—that's Simon Bolivar we're talking about—was shaken by the overwhelming revelation, that the headlong race between his misfortunes and his dreams was, at that moment, reaching the finish line. The rest was darkness. 'Damn it', he sighed. 'How will I ever get out of this labyrinth?"
Not once, in all her last-word-searching history, has Emily heard such words that she doesn't understand (okay, maybe she doesn't understand a lot, but she always comes out with a solution of some sorts). "What's the labyrinth?"
Alison moves a little closer to Emily, and Emily breathes in a soft fragrance of sweet vanilla, and fried chicken. Nothing has been more powerful.
"Well, that's the mystery, isn't it?" Alison sighs wistfully. "Is the labyrinth living or dying? Which is he trying to escape? The world or the end of it?" She looks pointedly at Emily, as if she is waiting for an answer, and takes another puff from the cigarette she is holding.
"I... don't know," Emily admits. "But... you've really read all these books?"
Alison laughs. "Oh, god, no. Not yet—I mean, there's about a thousand of these, you know, every summer, huge car boot sales. I pick out all of the interesting-looking ones, buy them, and bring them here. I've only read about... a third of them. But I will read them all, when I'm old, and boring, and I can't stand the smell of bufriedos. But for now—" One more puff. "I live life like no tomorrow."
Alison hands Emily a cigarette, and this time Emily does take it, and lights it.
"You're really cute, you know," she remarks. "And I am allowed to say that now, because I am officially partner-less."
If she blushes any harder, Emily is sure her cheeks will burst into flames. "I think you are, too, I guess. And I can say that, because I never had a... partner to begin with."
"Oh, I'll take care of that," winks Alison. "You're hot enough, and I'll get you a boy in no time at all."
Emily wants to speak, wants to interject, but she's too scared.
"But you don't seem the straight type to me, no offence," Alison smirks, and Emily wonders if she is that transparent—for as much as she can remember, she hasn't, not once, mentioned anything about liking girls. "Correction: I'll get you a girl in no time at all." She smiles. "I'm not a stalker, I just have my experience. I know when people are gay or not."
"Right," Emily murmurs.
"So it's sorted. On one condition," Ali says. "You help me find out what this 'labrynth' is."
Surely—surely—it's not going to be too hard, right?
Short chapter, I know! I'm thinking of adding a dash of Mike/Mona in, you know. And also, I've also been thinking if I should add A in this story, or not. I'd love to hear your thoughts!