*Spencer's POV*
I tugged on sweatpants that barely fit and a loose top. I looked in the mirror. There was no denying how fat I was now. My stomach was so bloated and tight, you would think I would be going into labor any minute.
I finished stuffing the last two boxes of cupcakes into my mouth and waddled down the stairs after making sure my mother was in her room already. I got into my car and drove to Aria's house, knocking on the door. She answered, and Hanna was right behind her.
"What do you want, Spencer?" She asked.
"You have to come with me. Emily is in serious danger," I said.
"Are you drunk?" She asked.
"Yes," I said, done with lying.
"And you drove here?" Hanna asked, a horrified look on her face.
"I drive everywhere when I'm drunk. Are you coming with me or not?" I asked.
"Yeah, but I'm driving," Aria told me. I tossed her the keys, and we headed out. We came to a car crash pretty quickly. The police were already on the scene. We all got out of the car, and I walked up the nearest officer. I had terrible luck, because it happened to be Toby.
"Why are you here, Spencer?" He asked.
"The girl in the crash had to be Emily," I said.
"What?" He asked.
"Emily was in the crash," I insisted.
"How could you possibly know that? One car is abandoned, and we haven't been able to get the other driver out, because the door is mangled so badly. And is that alcohol on your breath?" He asked.
"Yes, I've been drinking, sorry. But I know it was Emily," I said.
"How could you possibly know that?" He asked.
"Because she was on the phone with me and I heard the impact. And I know who was in the other car. It was A," I said.
"How do you know it was A?" Toby asked.
"Because I got a text," I said.
"And it said?" Toby prompted.
"It said I had to eat eighty cupcakes or Emily was going to die on her way out of Rosewood. And I ate eighty cupcakes, but I guess A didn't get the memo in time," I said, sighing.
"So that's why you look nine months pregnant," Toby said.
"Do you believe me?" I asked.
"Not really. I think you're just drunkly babbling. And since you're underage, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take you in," he said.
"Are you kidding me?" I shrieked as he took out his handcuffs and put them around my wrists, taking me to the cop car.
"No. I'm not kidding. And you need to stop drinking, because your baby is going to have an awful life if you don't," he said. I flipped him off as he walked back to the car.