Emily is sitting cross legged on her bed. A book of SAT review questions is open in front of her, just in case her mom comes up to see what she’s doing. Because Emily really doesn’t want to have to explain that she’s sitting here thinking about Ali. And Maya. And coming out to her friends in front of police detectives. She’s pretty sure her mom is asleep on the couch downstairs, she always falls asleep watching Dateline, and faint snores are coming from the direction of the den.
There’s a sound from outside, like rain against the window, but the storm blew itself out hours ago. Emily peers outside, things are getting so weird lately with those text messages and the photo booth pictures and homecoming, her heart is racing a little with nameless worry.
She sees Aria in the yard, tossing pebbles at her window.
Emily smiles, a little confused, and opens the window as Aria shimmies like a monkey up the tree in the yard.
“I didn’t want to wake up your mom,” she explains, climbing nimbly through the window. Just like Ali had done, sometimes. Late at night, mostly. After parties. She’d slide into Emily’s bed smelling like whiskey or cheap beer, cigarettes and cologne. Never saying anything about where she’d been, just slipping a warm arm around Emily’s waist, snuggling under the blankets with her.
“Is everything okay?” Emily asks, pulling herself out of her own reverie.
“Yeah,” Aria answers. “Yes. I just - I dunno, I wanted to see how you were.”
“I’m fine,” Emily tells her. And it’s almost kind of true. Surprisingly.
“Oh,” Aria says, seeming a little let down. “Okay. It’s just - that was pretty intense earlier.”
“Do you think Spencer’s mom can really have him taken off the case?” Emily asks.
“Did you see how mad she was? She won’t stop until he’s busted down to like, trash collector or dog catcher or something.”
“Good,” Emily says. “I’m sorry I said I was studying with you guys.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Aria says. “That’s what friends are for.”
Emily looks at her feet. “You’re my friends. I should have trusted you. I should have told you. About...Ali.” As if saying it’s about Ali makes it not about her.
Aria sits down on the bed. “Em - it’s okay. We still love you, I promise. And I meant what I said before. Ali loved you, too.”
Emily feels like when she’s swimming so hard it seems like her chest might explode, because she knows that Aria means like a friend and of course she already knows that. The thought that keeps her up at night is the whisper of or maybe more that trails over all her memories of Alison these days.
Maya likes her back. She knows what that feels like now. And it doesn’t feel that different from Alison, except the electric charge is a lower wattage, and the part where Maya doesn’t care if it’s a secret or not.
She doesn’t want to talk about it with Aria. Alison trusted her with parts of herself she never let anyone else see. Even if she is dead - something Emily still finds almost impossible to believe - her secrets live on. It’s a way Emily has of keeping Ali close. So she says nothing, just sits down on the bed, up near the pillows, wraps her arms around her knees.
Aria waits her out, patient and tiny and wearing feathery earrings.
“I know,” Emily says, at last. “It doesn’t help.”
“Yeah,” Aria agrees. “I guess it doesn’t.”
Emily blinks at her, confused.
Aria sighs, and scoots up to the top of the bed to sit next to Emily. “Can I tell you a secret?” she asks.
Emily nods. “Of course.”
“I dated a girl. Once. In Iceland. It only lasted a couple of weeks, but it was -” Aria shakes her head, at a loss for words. “I’d never felt that way about anybody, before.”
“What happened?” Emily asks.
“She was there on vacation,” Aria says, not meeting Emily’s eyes. “She went home and I cried myself to sleep for the next three months.”
“But-” Emily says, “You like boys, too, right? You like Noel?”
Aria scoffs. “Sure, I like boys. Maybe not Noel, exactly, but it’s just - it’s different.” She pauses, then goes on, looking directly at Emily now, and her eyes are as sad and sincere as they were at Ali’s funeral. “I just wanted to tell you I understand. I know what it’s like - to fall in love with your best friend and have it be incredible and awful and amazing and hopeless all at the same time.”
Emily looked at her closely. Her story didn’t make any sense, but she was describing exactly what it felt like, as if she really did know from experience. Maybe she was lying, Emily decided. Trying to make her feel better. Aria always had a good imagination.
“Thanks,” Emily tells her, quietly. Even if it is a lie, it’s nice to hear.
Aria puts her hand on Emily’s shoulder as she stands up. “If you ever want to talk about it…”
“Thanks,” Emily repeats, knowing she probably won’t.
“It’s going to be okay,” Aria tells her. “You’re stronger than you know, Em.” And then she leans over and kisses Emily quickly, her lips grazing Emily’s softly. It only lasts a few seconds, but it’s sparkly and sweet and then over.
Aria gives her a jaunty wave, then slips soundlessly out the window and down the tree. Emily watches her go. Just like Ali always did.