"Where is Noel?" he groans, glancing at the clock on his phone.
"Chill out man," Caleb scolds him. "We've only been waiting for fifteen minutes."
"Yeah, at a train station. A very small train station that really doesn't have that many places to go. It has, like, a bathroom—that's it. Can you call him again?"
"He's probably in the bathroom, just wait. Stop getting your panties in a twist," Caleb shakes his head, pulling out his phone to text his friend.
After sending the text, he slides the phone back in his pocket, giving his friend a look, "what's wrong with you? You've been bitching since we got in the car. First it was the traffic. Now it's Noel. What's with the mood?"
"Nothing," he growls. "Maybe I'm just a little frustrated that I'm going to be babysitting you tonight.
"Woah, what the hell?" he holds up his hands, turning to him. "What are you talking about?" his question is stern.
Toby breathes hard.
"Hey boys," a voice delivers, making the two turn around. A smile crosses Caleb's face, and Toby struggles not to grimace. Noel was good for weed, but that's just about it. Everything else about him was just trouble foreboding.
He had his sunglasses hanging on the tip of his nose, and a smirk positioned on his lips.
"You can't go five minutes without being a jack ass, can you?" Caleb shook his head in amusement, walking towards the man. The two shared a hug before Noel came over to pat Toby on the back.
"You look good. You've been taking anything?"
"What?" Toby questions.
Caleb laughs, shaking his head.
"I'm just kidding, Cavanaugh," he pats his back again.
"Sorry I'm late, I ran into this chick. She was top notch. I helped her with her bags, got her number," he smirks, winking at the men, "you know how that goes."
Caleb laughs, "I see you haven't changed at all."
Noel cackles, "and never will." He winks again.
"Can we go?" Toby cuts in.
"Sorry, something is up his ass today," Caleb nods towards Toby.
"Well, don't worry. I have something that can fix that," he pats the man's back, winking.
Noel winks a lot more than he remembers. It makes him insanely uncomfortable.
"All right, man," Caleb bobs his head up and down. "This is going to be a great night," his smile widens.
They go back in the car, and Caleb insists that Toby sits in the back seat. ("I don't want any of that negativity that is spurring off of you," he said.)
He doesn't mind. At least he doesn't have to sit by Noel Kahn.
Usually Noel is tolerable. He is annoying, but tolerable. He can deal with him, but today he is just not in the mood. He was already feeling lousy before encountering the man.
It was that phone call from Spencer.
It sent him into a frenzy. He knew they never defined what they were doing, but he felt like it was more than just sex. It at least had the potential to be. But he was always fearful of her rejecting him. Hanna was kind of right in calling him emotionally damaged. He hated that she was right, but she was. He didn't want to get hurt again, but here he was, hurting. And they didn't even date. It was sex. But it wasn't just sex... it was something else, too.
His mind can't help wonder if she ended it because of things getting too real. It appeared as though Spencer had feelings for him, he was almost positive she did, but he wasn't positive enough. He was terrified that he was overestimating her level of affection towards him. Which is one of the reasons why he chose to keep to himself.
He is fearful of getting hurt, yet isn't he already hurt? It doesn't make sense.
Caleb and Noel pull up at Caleb and Hanna's house. Noel is staying here for the week. The wedding is next week and apparently Noel wants to spend some time with Caleb before he is, quote, "a miserable, overweight, husband."
So supportive he is.
Toby aids Noel in carrying his bags to the door. He has a lot, and the bags aren't light, either. They are actually pretty heavy.
Hanna and Caleb still haven't quite unpacked everything yet. Toby supposes it is because of how busy they've been with the wedding, and everything. Most of their stuff is still in boxes and wrapped in bubble wrap.
Noel's sleeping on the couch. The couch that so happens to be in the room he and Spencer chastised. It's not the same couch, though. The whole room is filled with random furniture. It's as if Bed, Bath, and Beyond had trampled through the room, leaving an assortment of random items behind in its trail.
"CALEB!" a voice echoed throughout the house.
The sounds of heals hitting the floor marked against his ears, and also other footsteps. An abundance of them.
"What?" he irritably shot as Hanna entered the room.
Hanna and Caleb have been really antsy with each other lately. Once again, Toby blames the wedding.
Spencer, Emily, and Aria are quick behind her.
Seeing Spencer makes his heart stop.
"Hanna, I—"
"YOU ARE GETTING STONED? SERIOUSLY, CALEB? YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THAT!"
Caleb shoots Spencer a sharp look. Her eyes go soft, almost helpless. She shakes her head shamefully, her lips moving, but not saying anything.
Caleb rolls his eyes, and looks towards Hanna, "Hanna," he begins, clearly annoyed. "It's not a big deal."
"Not a big deal?!" she voices back.
Spencer, the natural leader (he would once refer to as control freak), takes charge of the situation. "Guys, let's give them some time alone," she says in a murmur towards Emily and Aria. "Noel, Toby..." she says shortly.
No one argues against her words, and Hanna and Caleb don't even seem to notice their friends diminishing presence.
Seeing Spencer brings up unwanted feelings. Whenever they are getting close, she seems to find some reason to break away. Like, for example, when they used to be friends in high school. She believed Alison—the queen of all lies; the creator of deceit herself—without a trace of doubt. Spencer Hastings, the daughter of skeptic and cynic, did not even try to reveal the real truth.
Maybe it was just not meant to happen. They weren't supposed to be friends, or anything more for that matter. The wedding would arrive soon, and then, he would no longer have any ties with her. He would be free of her stubborn, mistrusting, ambiguous, self. He would no longer have to suffer through her misleading affection, or persistent argumentative qualities.
But for some odd reason, the thought made him feel at loss.
The thought of being apart from Spencer—maybe seeing in another five years—made him already miss her. And not just the good stuff about her either, everything that's bad, too. Maybe he's just a sadist.
He realizes that he's been staring at her for awhile, and he hopes no one noticed. They are all chatting with Noel about how their , and his life has been. Well, mostly it's Emily talking to him. Aria is on her phone, and Spencer has a distant look on her face (he would know, he's been staring at her for the last five minutes.)
It probably has to do with Caleb.
He walks over to her, leaning against the counter. Noel and Emily are still engaged in one another, and Aria has moved to the couch, invested in her phone. Spencer doesn't even seem to notice that he has glided over to her.
"Hey," he murmurs.
Her startled eyes find him with an assortment of shifting. "Hi," she voices in an unsettling tune.
"Caleb will get over it," he supports.
She moves her eyes away, smacking her lips together in a hard frown. "Maybe. But what if they get into some huge fight because of me? They've been arguing a lot lately, and I'm almost scared that they'll..." she stops herself.
"Break off the wedding?" he inquires in a judgmental tone.
She nods after a second, and looks at him, sighing. "It's not that crazy of a thought. People do it all the time."
"If Caleb knew you were saying this, he would be even angrier with you." He doesn't know why he chose to say that. It probably will make her feel worse. Maybe he is angry with her, or something. About this morning. But what does he really have to be angry about? They never defined anything. Who cares if she ended it through the phone?
But still, he doesn't take it back.
She glares at him, "you're not going to tell him, are you?"
"No, I'm not the tattle tale."
Maybe it wouldn't have been as bad if he said it in a teasing tone. Instead it was in a tone of loathing.
He doesn't know where that came from, either.
She glares harder at him, and pushes her lips together in a scowl. "Did you just come over here to be an asshole?" her arms cross over her chest.
He doesn't respond, and she rolls her eyes, turning away from him, but he follows her, blocking her from leaving him. "I'm sorry," he pronounces.
She nods a short, mocking nod, obviously unbelieving of him.
"I am. Okay? Caleb was wrong to not tell Hanna. You were right."
"You're on Hanna's side?" she inquires, squinting her eyes.
"I'm on your side."
She once again stares at him, unconvinced. "Why?" she inquires.
"Because you didn't do anything wrong. You shouldn't feel bad about it."
"So when Caleb bitches about me later, you'll tell him this?" she narrows her eyes on him.
"Um," he hesitates.
She shakes her head, her eyes rolling once again, "there you have it."
"I will," he promises.
A small smile rises on her lips, her eyes wandering away to the floor. But slowly, it fades.
"We're okay, right?" she almost whispers. "Friends still..." she elaborates.
"Yeah, fine," he nods, smacking his lips together. Really, no. It doesn't feel fine.
Caleb comes in the room a second later, declaring that they had to get going. So, they say their goodbyes, and head their way outside. Caleb doesn't speak of the fight with Hanna, or Spencer. He just keeps silent. Toby decides that he should try to gather up a better mood. Caleb probably feels worse than he does, right now.
...
"Han, are you sure you're okay?" Spencer tries again.
She's been saying how it's fine and whatever. But whenever she says these things, she gets tears in her blue eyes, and delivers the words in a croak.
"I'm good," she nods. "I'm just really excited for tonight," she smiles broadly at her worried friend.
They're half way to New York, and Hanna has received about 3 calls—all declined. Spencer can only believe it is Caleb on the other end.
It's been about 3 hours from the fight. After Caleb left, they all got in their outfits for the night, and did their hair, and everything. Hanna was pretty distant the whole time, which is odd, considering she is normally so into makeup and everything.
"Okay," she murmurs, sitting back in her seat. She can't help but feel guilty. She is the reason for the quarrel. But Toby's words were true. Caleb shouldn't have kept it a secret. But she doesn't quite understand why Hanna is so against it. She supposes it doesn't matter. Caleb should have told her.
Even though Hanna seems upbeat, she is distant. She sings all the songs on the radio, but her usually sparkle is nonexistent. Whatever Caleb had said during the fight really got to her. Or maybe she is just worried that he'll break the wedding off.
Toby's words come to mind, again.
She finds it unbelievable that he's never pondered upon the thought of them breaking up. She doubts he is that faithful about the whole thing. Hanna and Caleb probably have had concerns over the wedding themselves! With all the fighting they've been doing...
Toby said they were fine, but yet he was being...cold. It obviously isn't fine.
Nor is it fine with Hanna and Caleb.
Both seem to be her fault.
They get to the hotel, and right after they enter their room, Hanna's phone goes off.
...
Caleb anxiously awaits as the rings go by, teasing him of the possibility of Hanna picking up. She has been ending the call, usually, by the second ring. Maybe she is actually going to pick up this time. He's been freaking out the whole evening. He took one hit, and then decided he couldn't do it. He declared that he needed to get some air, and when Toby and Noel asked whether he was ever going to join them, he told them they could finish it. Noel did, Toby didn't. He tried to be helpful, but he was high, so it was basically him just rambling on about nonsense.
When he left to get some air, he made the first call. The second was when Toby and Noel were swallowing down whole pizzas. The third call was made in the bathroom of the pizza place. And now here he was, outside of the pizza place, outside his car, his friends waiting inside the vehicle, calling, yet again. Most likely to just be—
"What do you want?" an irritated voice growls at him.
"Hanna!" he exclaims in wild relief. "You answered," he breathes.
"Yeah," she voices in a dull rasp. "Now what do you want?" she demands.
"I just—I'm, I don't like how we left things," he walks away from the car, eyeing his friends with a sort of apprehension. "I didn't mean any of it, Han."
Silence.
"Hanna," his soft voice begs. "Please, I need you to know what you know that I didn't mean it."
A door shuts on Hanna's end, "Caleb," she starts in a rushed tone. "I don't have time for this. Shouldn't you be baked, or something?"
"I didn't do it—I'm not going to do it."
"Do it. I don't care, okay? Do whatever you want. It's not like you care what I think anyways."
"That's not true, Han..." he murmurs. "I love you. What you have to say is everything to me."
"You're just saying all this because you're trying to make up for what you said earlier," she sounds completely unaffected by the words he had fed her. "You—," her voice breaks a little. "You said that we shouldn't be getting married, Caleb. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?"
"I didn't say that!" he exclaims in a rush, "I said that I think we may be rushing it—that we should have waited a couple years, but I don't think that now. I know this is right. Hanna, I love you. I want to be with you. I'm sorry. I'm completely sorry."
He hears her begin to cry. "Hanna, please, please, don't cry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I was just angry. But I was angry for all the wrong reasons. I should have just told you."
"Yes, you should have. We're not going to make it without being honest with each other. If you're going to do that, fine, but just tell me the truth."
"So, you're not mad?"
"I don't know."
"Please don't be mad at me?" he pouts.
"That's not going to work. Not without those doe eyes of yours."
"I wish I could be there. I don't even care about this dumb bachelor party anymore."
"So, come here," she says after a second.
"What? What about your night with the girls? The strippers you ordered?"
"I'll send them home. The bride always gets what she wants, Caleb. And the strippers..." she starts in a mischievous voice, "still come."
He laughs, shaking his head in disbelief, "this is crazy."
"Fine, then. I'm still mad at you."
"This is the only way you'll stop?"
"Yes. Besides, the more and more I think about it, the more and more I reject the idea of you in a club of naked, grinding, women," she spurts out. "Now, come. I'll deal with the girls, I'm sure they'll be fine with it."
"You're crazy if you think that," he chuckles.
"Just shut up, Caleb, and come! I don't like fighting, okay? I just want to have some goddamn make up sex. If they really don't want to leave, they can get another room."
"I'll see you in a couple hours," he declares.
...
She cannot believe what happened in New York. How can Hanna just think it's okay to just send them back home after the journey out there? Hanna's always been irrational, but Spencer's never believed her to be rude. And sending them back home is completely that—rude.
Even Emily, her other half, was steaming on the way back. They all did so much for Hanna these past few months, including this bachelorette party, and she doesn't even have gratitude towards them. Spencer cannot wait for the wedding to pass so Hanna can stop using the Bride Card. Just because you're getting married doesn't mean you can make ridiculous demands of everyone around you.
The whole thing just sets her off. Hanna was completely pissed at Caleb, and now she was kicking everyone else out for him. She offered to pay for another room, but what would be the point in that? It's an hour and forty five minute drive back home, so why not just go back. There was no point in staying in some hotel room. It was unanimous among the girls, they all just rather drive back home.
After getting home, they decided they needed a drink, and some food. They were all starving, and pissed, and exhausted from driving all day. They deserved it.
It wasn't that Spencer was pumped for the strippers or anything. She could care less. She just thought it would be nice to have some girl time. Hanna will be a wife soon, and then she'll have kids, and Spencer will be so low on her list that she will only end up seeing her once every four months.
Hanna put Caleb before them, and didn't even see the wrongness of it, really. She said she would make it up to them, but she kind of doubted it. This wedding has turned Hanna and Caleb, and their relationship into one big mess.
And if Hanna and Caleb can't get it right, then why ever would she and Toby?
She has ignored two calls from him. She just doesn't want to hear that voice of his. It will just be a reminder that she broke it off with him this morning. So far, she hasn't crashed because of that. But she can feel it coming, and she'll do whatever it takes to push it off.
She leaves the bar around 12AM. She didn't drink too much, so she is okay to drive. Over a few drinks, she has sort of cooled down about the whole Hanna thing. She's still mad, but she isn't seething, anymore. She supposes it is actually sort of cute. Both of them were completely soaked for their parties, and they ended up giving them up to spend time with each other. But the part of her that thinks it is cute is very outweighed by the part of her that wants to jab a stick in the couple's eyes. She's going to need a lot more time to get over the couple's selfish, irrational, behavior.
When she gets to her apartment door, she encounters something so incredibly wild that she needs to do a double check. It's Toby. Sleeping. In front of her door. He sits with his back against the wall, and head snug into his shoulder.
Her eyebrows wrinkle in bewilderment.
"Toby," she states.
Nothing.
"Toby," she barks a little louder.
Still nothing.
She groans and kicks his foot, along with shouting his name again. This did the trick. He jerks awake, and puzzles at his surroundings before locking eyes with her.
"What are you doing here?" she demands.
"I—," he stammers, collecting himself. He clumsily stands up, and brushes off his pants and shirt. "I must've fallen asleep. I was really exhausted," he says, dumbfounded.
She stares at him, still confused. "And my doormat was the most comfortable place you could think of to take a nap?"
He laughs, but it is more consisting of nerves than amusement. "Not really....um, can we talk ... inside?"
"I guess," she voices with uncertainty.
He moves out of the way and she opens the door to her apartment.
When they get inside, she just stares him down, crossing her arms, and awaiting an answer.
He shoves his hands into his pockets, "I wanted to talk."
"So, you decided to camp out on my doorstep?" she inquires with incredulity.
"You didn't answer your phone, and... I don't know, I figured you'd be back soon. I wasn't going to wait the whole night. Just a little while, but I ended up falling asleep...so," he confesses. "Here I am, I guess..." he holds up a smile, but it falls into a frown almost a second later.
"What's so important?" she questions.
"Why did you end it?" he bursts out. "Us?"
"I told you," she tiredly answers. "I'm too busy for nonsense like this," her eyes involuntarily shift from his. "I'm just done fooling around," she meets his gaze.
"Well, I don't want this to stop," his words tumble out.
Her eyebrows gather in puzzlement, "I didn't expect you to be happy about this, but I didn't expect you to be a jerk." her words coat with ice.
"No, that's not what I mean," he groans, his fingers running through his hair. He paces back and forth in front of her for a moment, then stops, looking at her with a certain genuineness. "I don't care about the sex," he clumsily declares. "I mean I like it, and it's great, but that's—it's not what matters," he sighs.
Her heart begins to race as he continues speaking. Oh no.
"I just—I want, I want to be something with you. And I don't want it to be enemies, or friends, or friends with benefits, I want something more. We can take things slow...we don't have to have sex. We can go on—,"
"Toby, stop, please," she shakes her head, rolling her eyes back. She turns around, pacing. She runs her manicured fingers through her hair in frustration. "I don't—just stop talking, okay... I can't."
"Why not?" he tries, gently touching her elbow. from behind "There's something between us. Something real. And God Damn me, I have feelings for you Spencer. And sometimes it actually feels like you might have them too."
She turns around, stepping away from him. "I do!" she confesses, exasperated. "I do," she mumbles again, her eyes swelling with tears. "And it isn't just sometimes. It's all the time," she exclaims in a breathy voice, "all the damn time," she shakes her head, her eyes staring at the floor.
"Then what is the problem?" he demands in an irritated matter.
"I told you," she begins with more confidence. "I suck at relationships, okay? And it..." she shakes her head, "I don't feel like going through this with you." Her voice cracks a little as she starts a moment later, "I haven't—this is the first time I've ever felt this way about anyone. Maybe that's pathetic, but...it's true. And I just know it's going to really suck when it all goes up in flames."
"How do you know it will?" his voice is stern.
"Because we fight all the time!" she exclaims. "We're fighting right now. Why would this ever work out, Toby?"
"Noah and Allie always fought, didn't they?"
"Are you really referencing a movie—you hate, by the way—to our relationship? They're fictional, Toby! It's unrealistic, as you said before."
"I said them dying together was unrealistic—and how she just remembered him when he visited her that night, when she didn't know who he was most of the movie, was unrealistic. Not them fighting all the time."
She covers her face with her hands, groaning. "I can't do this," she mumbles. "I just—I can't."
"Spencer, everyone has issues, okay?" He finally finds his confidence. "I have plenty of issues, myself. I have trust issues. I run when things get too hard. I'm stubborn, and afraid of getting hurt. And probably more. But, I don't let those things ruin my life. I was scared of telling you how I feel. I was terrified because in high school—I liked you. And I was going to tell you, but then you brought up all that shit with your physics project."
Her face goes blank, her doe eyes wide. She had no idea.
"But, I got over it, okay? Because I rather tell you how I feel, with the possibility of being completely embarrassed and heartbroken, than to sit back and do nothing, and forever sulk and wonder if I made a huge mistake. So, I'm telling you how I feel. I'm taking a risk. And I'm asking you to do the same."
He is close to her now. Not so close that she can feel him breathing, but if she reached her arms out, her hands could connect with his. Well, she is pretty sure they could. There is only one way to find out...
She reaches her hands out and takes his hands in hers. His fingers entwine with hers almost instantly. His face melts into something soft and understanding, and she knows that the next action she takes will define them. It will label them as something other than enemies, friends, or friends with benefits. It will bring them to a certain intimacy that she hasn't let herself explore in awhile. They'll be something more. Something terrifying, but wonderful, all at the same time.
"Okay," she nods.
A small smile expands across on his face, but his eyes smile more at her. They shine with so much joy that it is almost blinding. Only a moment passes before their lips are engaging in something wonderful and brilliant, and, dare she use the word, magical. It's comforting and promising, and maybe she won't screw this up. Maybe she will actually try to stay in this relationship. Maybe it will last.
She hopes it lasts.