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Spencer never makes the first move. Technically.
She flirts.
Friendly flirting that can be played off as just friendly. Coy flirting that can be read as shyness. Playful banter that could be just natural competitiveness.
She drops her pens too often, and takes just a moment too long finding them on the ground. Her skirt rides up just a tiny bit higher than the cut alone should cause.
She plays with her hair. A lot.
Aria has seen the routine a dozen times, for a dozen guys. Up until about a week ago she had never felt anything but contempt and a smouldering resentment for those boys. Contempt for their clueless confusion, and resentment that not one of them seemed to understand how very, very important Spencer Hastings was.
Until last week.
Last week it had been sunny, and the others had been busy. They'd walked home together, just the two of them. Spencer had knelt down to tie a lace on Aria's high top sneakers...except Aria didn't think it had been loose. She'd flipped her hair away from her face, tucking it all to one side so that the nape of her neck was exposed, soft skin and the delicate golden clasp of a necklace. A waft of apple scented shampoo from her loose hair.
She'd glanced up at Aria through her eyelashes, just for a second.
"All better now," she'd murmured, in her quieter, talking-to-boys voice, the one you had to lean in just a little closer to hear.
For one glorious moment, everything had fallen into place, everything had made sense, everything had been perfect…
Then Spencer had bounded to her feet, loud and laughing, issuing a challenge to race to the corner, bouncing ahead while Aria tried to remember how to breathe.
By the time Spencer had beaten her to the corner and come back to collect her, Aria had never been less sure of anything in her entire life. Her laces probably had been undone, she just had been too busy watching the sun play in Spencer's freshly-washed hair to notice them. Spencer knows she can't easily bend down to tie her shoes when she's wearing a corset top. She was being a friend. Because they are friends. She moved her hair because it was in her face and she couldn't see. She looked up like that because she was literally kneeling at Aria's feet and there was no other possible way she could look at her while talking. She'd spoken quietly because they'd been so close. Aria would have heard her even if she hadn't leant closer.
It was all...plausible. It all made perfect sense.
Aria's heart rate slowly returned to normal.
The next day, Spencer had borrowed a hair tie. A normal, friendly thing to do. They all borrowed hair ties...from Spencer, because she always had dozens of them, "just in case".
And the next day the little hook and eyelet closure on the back of Spencer's dress had kept slipping open, and somehow Aria was always the closest and most natural person for Spencer to ask to do it up for her. The dress was tight across Spencer's back, the fabric stiff against Spencer's warm, smooth skin, the hook popped neatly and firmly into place every time. It shouldn't have come loose at all. But it did. Three times at school, and once more when Spencer drove her home.
This week, every teacher they have seems to have conspired to give them record-breaking amounts of homework. Spencer is beside herself. Which is normal. She demands study sessions, and caffeine. This is normal. Emily and Hanna try to weasel out of the study sessions, which is also pretty standard. Spencer accepting "baking muffins" without question slightly less so.
Perhaps she is too stressed on her own account to stress for Hanna and Emily as well. It doesn't seem to stop her stressing for Aria, but Aria has been falling behind lately.
Aria is pretty much definitely almost certain now that Spencer is flirting with her. She's completely certain that she wants her to be flirting, which is where the "almost" comes in. She wants too much for this to be real, and her active imagination combined with too strong Spencer-made coffee and the fact that after three days studying together in Aria's bedroom all of her pillows and sheets and cushions and furniture and clothing now smell faintly like apple shampoo is possibly causing actual hallucinations.
Possibly Spencer has always leant in this close while explaining a particularly tricky piece of math homework. Before last week, would Aria even have noticed how many buttons of Spencer's high-necked blouse had been loosened for comfort? Would she have cared about the black lace edging on Spencer's red bra?
So this week...this week she feels something closely akin to pity for all the boys who have ever had reason to doubt that Spencer's soft swishy hair is being deliberately swished just for them. The possibility of being wrong, of having Spencer sweetly, gently, telling her she doesn't see her that way, that they're friends, that she likes boys, and dashing out the door with a chirpy, "thanks for having me!" thrown over her shoulder is honestly the second most terrifying thing Aria can imagine right now.
The most terrifying thing, though, is that maybe Spencer is flirting...that maybe she wants this, too. That she's been flirting since last week, last month, last year? How long did it take Aria to notice this thing that might or might not be a thing at all? How long before Spencer takes her silent uncertainty as silent rejection? How long before she switches her attention to another guy...another girl...another person who will seize that priceless opportunity with both hands and never let her go?
"Spence?"
Spencer's head snaps up instantly, as though she's been waiting, listening. Her eyes look hopeful, almost. She smiles, just a little.
"Hmm?"
Aria scoots down from her sitting position until she's lying next to Spencer on top of the doona, their heads sharing the one pillow.
Aria opens her mouth to say something, anything, "I'm going kiss you now," "please don't slap me," "you have beautiful hair". She sighs, instead, and leans forward. Her hand trembles more than a little as she brushes Spencer's hair away from her cheek.
Spencer's lips are soft and smooth and warm and sweet, and Aria knows instantly that she had been right last week. This is Spencer's first date lip gloss, the one that doesn't catch and stick, the one that tastes like strawberries.
Aria's eyes are closed, but she can feel Spencer's surprise turning quickly to satisfaction, can feel a triumphant smile against her mouth, a possessive hand at the small of her back. She keeps her eyes closed as Spencer pulls away, brushes a nose against her cheek.
"When did you notice?"
Aria sighs.
"Not until last week...with my laces. How long…?"
Spencer's laugh is breathless, affectionate rather than mocking. The laugh is followed by a sigh.
"Much longer than that."
"Thank you for being patient with me. Was it terribly frustrating?"
"Terribly." Spencer pulls her into another kiss, and Aria starts to forget how words work. "But you're worth waiting for...you're worth anything."