Hold Me Down

Chapter 18

"What the hell was that?" Spencer demands as she follows Alison through the halls.

Alison quickens her pace, determined to avoid the conversation Spencer's currently trying to start. "I don't want to talk about it."

Spencer's long legs make it easy for her to match Alison's quickened pace and with a few well-paced strides, Spencer is once again at her side. "Well, too bad because we're talking about it."

"Why does everyone think they know what's best for me?!" Alison snaps, coming to a halt and turning on Spencer with an angry growl. "People want to tell me who I should see, who I shouldn't, what to feel, what to talk about, when to see a therapist. But you know what? I'm done! I've taken care of myself for as long as I can remember and I've done just fine!"

"Maybe it's time you start doing a little better than just fine," Spencer says.

Alison can't help but roll her eyes at the corny platitude, even though she recognizes the sincerity in Spencer's voice. "Oh, spare me."

Alison takes off again, her feet carrying her through the school's double doors and out into the open air. She needs space—a moment to think—to reflect on whatever the hell it is that just happened in the bathroom. Did she seriously try to have sex with Emily? In the school bathroom? God, maybe she should seek help.

But Spencer is right behind her, robbing her of her moment of self-loathing and misery, armed with questions and concerned eyes and Alison just wants to scream—scream at Spencer to go away, scream at Emily for rejecting her, scream at whoever is unfortunate enough to fall into her path.

She makes her way down the school's front steps and when she's finally satisfied with the amount of physical space between herself and the bathroom she just humiliated herself in, she pauses to take a breath.

"What were you doing with Emily in that bathroom?" Spencer asks. Her voice is soft and she tilts her head ever slightly like she genuinely cares and Alison closes her eyes like maybe when she opens them she'll be back in her Calculus classroom and this whole Emily-bathroom thing will have been a very elaborate disturbing daydream. Then again, if she's making wishes she'd choose to go a little further back in time.

Alison wants to be better, wants to give Spencer the truth, but the sarcastic response slips from her tongue before she can stop it. "We were putting on a puppet show."

"Alison," Spencer chides as if she's correcting a toddler. And Alison supposes the tone is appropriate considering how absolutely small and out of control she feels.

"We were talking," Alison says after a moment.

Spencer arches a disapproving eyebrow. "With your hand down her pants?"

"What—how'd you..." Alison stammers, her cheeks flushing at the accusation.

"Aria said she overheard something Emily said just before going in but she wasn't sure about it. Guess you just confirmed it."

Alison shakes her head. Outsmarted by Spencer Hastings yet again. "Gees. Guess privacy really is dead around here."

"If you want privacy then maybe don't attempt to have sex in a public bathroom."

Alison wants to point out that restricting that sort of thing to her bedroom didn't do her any favors either. Some evil scheming mastermind who might be her long last brother intruded on her private moments with Emily, violated her personal space and broadcast her most intimate, most vulnerable moment to the world... well to her best friends, but it might as well have been the world.

"We didn't do anything. I mean it didn't go anywhere," she says instead, all the bite gone from her voice.

Spencer's eyes are steady with concern and when she speaks her voice drips with gentle sympathy—the combination makes Alison twitch. She's so tired of people looking at her like she's some sort of victim when she feels so far from such.