There's something about her that draws you to her. Maybe it's the way your heart tugs when you see the other brunette chew thoughtfully on her bottom lip, deep in concentration, hardly paying attention to her surroundings. Maybe it's the way her hair falls so gently down her back, or maybe it's something about the way her eyes scan greedily across page after page of her latest novel obsession.
You realize how captivated you are by her, but what does that mean?
It scares you, really; the idea of liking another girl. It shouldn't; Emily's life is perfect, and she was once where you are, now. In fact, sometimes you get feelings of jealousy when you see how happy she is with her girlfriend. When she's with Paige, she's so happy and cheerful. The way she looks at Paige is the way you want Spencer to look at you.
But you know that will never happen.
You don't know when your feelings for her started to become more than platonic. You just remember the dream that you had. It involved you, her, a bed, and...lots and lots of passionate kissing and fucking. It had felt so good, so real, so it was a huge disappointment when you woke up, and realized how wet you were, only to realize you were alone, and she was never there.
It was only the deepest, most hidden part of your brain that revealed your true desires.
After that, you grew nervous around her. Now, whenever she reaches out to hug you, you have to pull away before she can touch you. You don't want to risk the chance of her feeling how quickly your heart might speed up at her touch. It makes you feel guilty to see the confused and hurt look she gives you every time you avoid her. But you're so, so scared. If she finds out, how will she react?
You don't want to know the answer to that question.
You've even started pulling away from Ezra, the man you've risked everything for. You can't look at him the same. You don't feel that happy, giddy excitement you used to feel when he would kiss the curve of your neck, or run his tongue along the edge of your ear. Instead, the chest hair that you used to love ends up feeling too rough, and his hands are suddenly too big for yours; they don't fit comfortably together anymore. You want soft, delicate hands holding yours. Even snuggling isn't the same. You want the comfort of soft, smooth skin touching you, not the hairy, scraggly mess that is Ezra Fitz. You want to run your fingers through long, wavy, brown hair, not short stubbles of hair on a head.
You want her. But instead, you fade in the background while watching as she grows closer to Toby Cavanaugh.
And, god, does it hurt to see her smile into his perfect, pink lips, after a long, passionate kiss. Your heart literally has a thousand knives stabbing through it every time. This is something you never want to see; how happy she is with someone that isn't you.
Sometimes, you'll go home, close your eyes, and pretend that Toby was you. Imagining her soft, heart-shaped lips against your own, her tongue swirling in your mouth, her soft, delicate hands pressing lightly against your cheeks. Her eyes are fluttered closed, and her long, beautiful lashes rest, gently, down.
But then you'd open your eyes, and reality would sink in, again.
They've all noticed you've changed- especially Spencer. She keeps prodding you with questions.
"Aria, are you okay?"
"Aria, what's wrong?"
"Did I do something to make you like this?"
Yes. You'd whisper in your head every time she'd ask the last question. But she hasn't, and you know that. It's all you, all in your head. And the others are less subtle about their curiosity, but you know they still keep a close eye on you. You can see worry in their eyes a lot, nowadays.
It makes you sick that you're doing this to them, making them worried all the time. They shouldn't be. No matter how hard you try to deny anything is wrong, they still watch you, waiting for you to break down and tell them. And sometimes, you really want to.
But your brain has been taken over by fear, and there's nothing you can say anymore, without letting something slip up.
"I'm fine," you'd say.
"Everything's fine."
"Will you guys calm down? I'm fine."
"I'm just tired."
"It's just, things with Ezra, right now, are a little tense."
The last one isn't even a lie.
Without you knowing it, the three girls secretly try to find a way to intervene, to make you yourself again; the short, lovable, adorable girl that everyone could admire. The one who gave hugs the most hugs, and was the most comforting, and wore the boldest clothes in confidence, and squealed with Hanna over boys.
That girl is long gone, now.
Unfortunately, Spencer doesn't see it that way. At least, not the day she comes knocking on your front door, at 7:30 in the morning, unexpectedly. You open the door, surprised to see her at your house. But, why should you be surprised? She's one of your best friends; nothing more.
"Hey," she says, peeking at you with a little smile.
Your heart twists at her smile, and the butterflies fly back in your stomach. "H-hi," you manage to get out. You both stand there for another ten seconds, her, looking happy and radiant, and you, awkward and fidgety.
She's the first to break the silence, letting out a tiny smirk. "Are you going to let me in, or...?"
"Oh, of course," you mumble, and step back so she can pass. The smell of her strawberry shampoo reaches you as she smoothly glides by you, and is so overpowering, you find yourself unable to breathe. "Not now," you try to tell your heart as you shut the door.
When you turn around, it's then that you realize Spencer is practically glowing. Her eyes are shining brightly, her beautiful, wavy hair is here and there, her cheeks slightly flushed, and her lips looking more tender and slightly bruised.
No. No, no, no. You know what's coming.
"Guess what?" she says, looking so happy, it hurts your heart.
"What?" you manage to croak out.
"I-I know it's, like, way too early in the morning, but I couldn't wait to tell you."
You nod, as if you understand, but inside, you're screaming.
She doesn't need to tell you. You already know.
She smiles, and says jokingly, "You should feel special; you're the first to know."
"Spence," you say, letting out a fake laugh. "Just tell me."
"Toby came back yesterday-"
"Oh, my god," you say, your eyes wide. Spencer gives you a slightly suspicious look; you know you're trying too hard to act happy for her. She hasn't seen you like this in months. You dial it down a bit, nodding for her to continue, and remaining silent.
"He...we...we slept together," she says, looking slightly dazed at the thought, but mostly glowing with pure bliss and happiness.
You knew you were going to feel pain when you heard those words, but you never imagined it would hurt this much.
"It was so amazing," she adds, gleefully.
"That's great, Spence," you say softly, while your heart tells you otherwise. "I'm so happ-"
You interrupt yourself with a surprising sob escaping your throat. You can't hold back your tears anymore, and they start streaming down your face. You know you shouldn't be crying in front of Spencer of all people, but hearing her confess what you've been dreading to hear is the trigger, and your wall comes crumbling down. You fall to the floor, eyes squeezed shut.
"Aria?" Spencer asks, worried. She crouches down next to you, and, tentatively, wraps her arms around you. "Honey?"
As much as your heart beats for her, you let her touch soothe you, and you open your eyes, looking at her.
"I'm so sorry," you whisper.
You don't know why you say that, or, maybe you do. You feel guilty for feeling the way you feel about her. Instead of being happy and supportive that she lost her V card, you feel nothing but rage, jealousy, pain, resentment, sadness. It's eating you up, taking over you. And you feel guilty, because she doesn't know what she did that has made you pull away from her. It's not her fault you fell hard for someone that could never be yours. Pushing her away for months hasn't done anything but bring Spencer even closer to you.
"Aria," she says, sounding shocked. "You have nothing to be sorry about."
"Yes, I do."
You can't look at her the same. Everything between the two of you has changed, even if only you can see it, and it's all your fault.