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Hanna corners her in the bathroom during second period.
It’s funny to think about. Two years go by and suddenly Hanna’s curling her hair just like Alison; wearing her clothes just like Alison, and cornering people in bathrooms - to threaten them, obviously - just like Alison used to do.
She has no doubt Hanna even thinks like her now. Part of Alison wants to be proud of her for even getting this far, but she mostly feels bitter – bitter because it was her who made Hanna into this. A version of herself Alison finds sweet, sweet Hanna, so undeserving of.
Hanna, who had always wanted to be popular and would’ve done anything - even sacrificing her own body, but then again, Alison had been the cause of that, too, hadn’t she? She was the one who made Hanna believe that was okay. - to become just that.
Maybe that’s why Alison’s tired of running, and lets Hanna move in closer to her until her back hits the tiled wall, lipstick she was previously holding slipping from between her fingers and clattering against the floor.
There’s a beat of silence, then:
“What do you want with Emily?” Hanna asks, menacingly, almost. With old feelings caught in the back of her mind, Alison wants to smirk and play it off like the old Alison would’ve done, but she’s better now, she thinks, and she’s trying to be honest, even when it’s hard, and she should’ve known this was coming. She doesn’t like the way Hanna’s staring her down, looking at her like she’s still the same cruel, fourteen-year-old girl with the world in her hands. And maybe she still has part of it – Maybe Alison’s version of the world has always been Emily – but she’s not fourteen anymore, and Hanna should know that better than anyone.
She would’ve liked more time to let the answer to Hanna’s question become a source of comfort, though, without it being threatened out of her, but she doesn’t blame Hanna for being protective of Emily. Not after what she’s done to her – to them.
So gives Hanna a frown instead, trying to play it off like she’s dumber than she actually is with no doubt that Hanna knows exactly what she’s doing. “What do you mean?”
“I’m serious, Alison.” Hanna’s not dumb either. She doesn’t like playing around things. Though it’s been years, Alison still remembers that about Hanna very well. “If you’re just toying with Emily to break her heart again, you might as well just go back to where you came from.”
Alison sharply sucks in a breath, eyeing the door to the bathroom– she could still make a run for it, if she wanted.
She doesn’t because she’s better now. She has to be, if she wants things to be okay again.
“Hanna…” Alison struggles, “I don’t…”
Fingers close around her wrist. Not to hurt her. Hanna would never intentionally hurt her, but Alison feels the cold sting of her nails anyways – feels like someone’s pressing their fingers around her throat, squeezing the lies out of her until she can do nothing but tell the truth, leaving herself bare before Hanna, quite possibly Emily’s closest friend.
“Alison. Emily is my best friend in the entire world – If you don’t tell me right now, I swear I won’t hesitate to end you right here.”
It’s quite like Hanna to protect Emily like this. Alison admires it more than anything. Envies it, almost. The way she would give herself to protect her friends. Alison wishes she could do that, too, without breaking everyone’s heart in the process.
“Emily’s… she’s–” she struggles to find the words because she’s never truly been able to find them in the first place. She’s never even quite figured it out herself – never wanted to, back when she was fourteen and mean, all too bothered by what other people might think about her if they knew kissing Emily wasn’t just about practice, that it had never been about just that.
She lowers her head, eyes straying away from Hanna’s unwavering expression every chance she gets. She struggles to find the courage – she’d really thought it would be Emily she’d say this to for the first time, at least. “She’s special to me.”
But it doesn’t feel like enough, so she offers a smile and thinks of the way Emily’s lips would tremble whenever they kissed, and the way Emily’s fingers always tethered the nape of her neck, or how Alison would allow her fingers to slip beneath the hem of Emily’s shirt, waiting for the unmistakable feel of Emily’s shiver, the way it would push them even closer together.
Hanna’s whole body seems to tighten. Her back straightens and her eyes narrow. “Bullshit. Tell me the truth.”
Alison wrenches her wrist from Hanna’s grip then, suddenly angry in a way she hasn’t been in a long, long time. “I’m not lying.”
“You don’t know anything about love, Ali.” Hanna’s expressions saddens and Alison almost feels guilty, because she knows that’s on her, knows that everything Hanna - all the girls, actually - is going through, is because of her, because she hadn’t been able to keep her mouth shut at fourteen.
“You’re right. I don't," she whispers, “but I care about her more than anything else and I know that means something.” it’s always meant something. She’s just been too good at being in denial. Alison’s whole life has been built on lies and this little fact about her - about Emily - was no different than a lie built on insecurity - even if she’d always been confident - and fear.
“You’re going to break her heart.” Hanna sounds like she doesn’t doubt it one bit - like she knows it’s inevitable - and Alison can’t help it when she lowers her head, almost like giving in, because she also knows it’s probably inevitable. That breaking Emily’s heart will always be a given. It’s happened before, and it will happen again, almost like an unbreakable cycle.
She’s had enough, finally, pushing Hanna back with a noise of annoyance. “Get out of my way.”