Chapter Text
Leaving the greenhouse, I find myself quieter than usual, all because of one complicated fact: Ian Thomas is alive, and Melissa Hastings is communicating with him.
It doesn't surprise me as much as it should, not because I don't believe Spencer's story about what happened at the bell tower, but because this is Rosewood. And 'A' is still out there. And even though Ian implied he murdered Alison DiLaurentis, my former best frenemy, I know that nothing is ever quite as it seems. I mean, I wouldn't be surprised if I walked home and found him sitting on my porch steps with the rope burns still around his neck.
Maybe that's a tad dramatic, but my point stands. I have a new personal motto so long as I live in Rosewood, 'expect the unexpected and you'll never be surprised.' So far, it's working great, at least until I hear three words I didn't expect.
"Is that Jason?" Spencer asks, sounding nearly as surprised as I feel.
All of us stop walking, and watch as Jason DiLaurentis is throwing away all of the small gifts and trinkets people left for Alison in remembrance.
He looks tense, and maybe even upset as he stuffs a teddy bear holding a red heart that says, 'We miss you' in the garbage. Even now though, I can't quite take my eyes off of him. Neither can any of the girls, but I know it's for a different reason.
"Apparently Jason's moved on." Spencer says, crossing her arms and shaking her head.
I want to help, honestly. I hated those sympathy gifts too. Alison would have rolled her eyes at the teddy bears, flowers, and music boxes. She would have thought they were far too immature for her, she would have been right. If people really wanted to honor her with something she would have actually cared about, they would have left her their old diaries, and sealed envelopes holding their deepest fears and darkest secrets.
I get where she's coming from though, it doesn't exactly look great but, "I don't blame him. It was a nice gesture, sure, but a bunch of tributes from people who didn't even know her is about as bittersweet as Spencer's morning coffee."
She scoffs, glancing at me from the corner of her eye and elbowing me in the side playfully. I give her a smile in return.
We're all staring still as Jason goes back inside his home, Hanna asks, "What is he doing back inside that house?" She's suspicious, possibly even a little disturbed.
"It's still his childhood home." I remind her.
She looks back at me, "Maybe, but all I'm saying is, you couldn't bribe me to go back in that house for anything."
I think about it for a moment, then add, "Not even for those brand new suede boots that Prada just came out with?"
Hanna tilts her head, "Okay well, that's just unfair."
I laugh, shaking my head. She's not a very complicated person, and she loves hard in every aspect of her life, I really love that about her. We finally move on after Emily makes a comment about us staring at the DiLaurentis house from the street.
As everyone splits off to walk back to their homes, I linger for a minute. I don't mean to, I just... can't help it. Especially when I see Jason walk past the window in the kitchen. He looks down at the island, moving something I can't see before looking out the window, and right at me.
The moment our eyes meet, my breath hitches and memories I haven't had time to revisit come flooding back.
•~•
It's the summer right after freshman year, I was staying at Ali's house for the weekend, and her mom offered to take us out to the Rosewood mall while she did her grocery shopping. Ali jumped at the chance but I told her I was way too hot for that, and I'd prefer just melting on her couch with a popsicle in hand. Ali didn't mind much really, she said something about me slowing her down, and she had some people she wanted to talk to anyway. I didn't ask her about it, she never liked when anyone did, and the easiest way to stay in her good graces is to stay out of her business.
I walk downstairs with her, "Hey, text me if you see any worthwhile summer sales. I need at least four new skirts before the school year starts." I tell her.
"What you really need is to get a different hairstyle, and ditch the streaks, you've had them for years. Changing the color of them doesn't make them new, Belle." She rolls her eyes.
I raise an eyebrow at her, smiling a little bit as I respond, "I like my hair, plus streaks are basically just highlights, but way more fun." I say, eyeing her blonde hair with even blonder highlights.
She looks back at me, giving me that signature Alison DiLaurentis smile and head tilt combo, something she does before making a comment that you think about for the next week, "Fun isn't always best, sometimes you have to grow up." And then she's out the door, gone before I can even respond.
Her comments used to bother me much more than they do now. In fact, ever since the other girls turned our dynamic duo into the spectacular six, Ali has changed a lot. I don't know if it has something to do with the girls, I don't even know if it's temporary or if this is just who she is now, all I know is that there's no time to fret about a bad comment she makes towards me, when I now have to spend most of my brain power deflecting the awful comments she makes to the others.
I shrug it off, moving to the kitchen, I have a sudden craving for cookies, and time to kill now. I turn on the television, listening to some show about a group of friends in New York, throw my hair up in a loose ponytail, push up my sleeves, and start on some homemade cookie dough. I decide on peanut butter, my personal favorite, chocolate chip, Alison's favorite, and then some extra sugar cookies just for the hell of it.
I've just finished making the dough for the last batch of cookies when Jason comes downstairs. I glance at the time, it's already five o'clock, but he's always been a late riser, so I don't think about it too hard.
"Just waking up?" I ask, rolling the dough between my hands to create little balls to put on the cooking pan.
He pushes his hair back, and walks into the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen island instead of just sitting down like a normal person. Which admittedly, makes me smile.
"Nope, just thought I smelled cookies and hoped it wasn't my mom making them." He says.
I can't help but laugh at that, Mrs. DiLaurentis isn't exactly the best chef. She prefers to buy birthday cakes, and insists that if someone is hungry enough, they'll look up a recipe themselves. But every so once in a while, she tries, and she fails, but hey, it's the thought that counts.
"I've already finished the chocolate chip and the peanut butter, if you want some." I offer, nodding my head at the two plates next to me.
Jason doesn't hesitate, grabbing one of each. I watch his reaction, I always do.
"Delicious, I want these for my birthday." He says, smiling in that lazy way he usually does when... oh.
I can't believe I didn't notice it before, the red eyes, the relaxed posture, and of course the most telltale sign, his shirt is on backwards. He's been upstairs getting high all afternoon.
I have to bite back a laugh when I nod, "Sure. Although, I'll have to sneak them past Alison."
Ali doesn't like me talking to Jason, or defending him, or even looking at him for too long. I know why, I'm not an idiot, I do find it a little irritating though. I mean, I've been friends with Alison since the DiLaurentis family moved to the neighborhood when we were nine. My family immediately invited them over for a 'welcome to the neighborhood' dinner, all it took was that one night and well... here we are.
But that also means I've known Jason since that dinner too. I think she forgets that sometimes. He doesn't though. And neither do I. And it's obvious in moments like these.
"I can keep a secret." He says back.
Of course he can.
"I can too." I respond, mirroring his lazy smile.
I finish rolling my last dough ball and put the tray in the oven, setting a timer for fifteen minutes. I start cleaning up my mess and he takes a look around, searching for something, or someone, more likely.
"Where's the rest of your posse today?" He asks, I can hear the mocking tone in his voice.
I immediately shoot him a look. "They're at home, believe it or not they all have their own families and their own lives."
I don't. Not really anyway.
"Surprising." He says, finally sitting down in one of the chairs. Clearly making himself comfortable. "I thought their lives just revolved around Alison's."
I huff and cross my arms at him, "Well they don't." I say, feeling that defensiveness that's all too familiar these days.
He rolls his eyes, leaning back in the chair before crossing his arms back at me. Now he's mirroring me. Our favorite game.
"Guess I'll have to take your word for it." He says simply.
"What about you, huh? Have any plans with your party bros?" I ask, using a similar mocking tone to my voice.
He just smirks, like he finds it funny, "Ian is throwing a party at his place, his parents left to spend summer in France."
I raise an eyebrow, "So he'll be alone the entire summer?" I ask, tilting my head.
He nods, "Probably, why do you care?" He tilts his head, to the opposite side.
I exhale a laugh, "Cause that means Melissa will probably be over there most of the time, leaving the barn totally free at the Hastings'." And hopefully, keeping Ian away from Spencer a little more. He gives me a weird feeling whenever he's in the room with her.
"Planning on partying too?" He asks.
My timer goes off, and I move to get the last batch of cookies out of the oven.
"Not in the same way you're planning to." I say, smirking at him now.
He snorts, "I plan on having fun."
I put the pan on the stove, and let the cookies cool for about two minutes, "You plan on getting crossed." I correct him. "I just can't get the appeal of it."
"Try it sometime, you'll get the appeal." He whispers the last part of his sentence, so I turn back to face him.
"Doing it alone sounds horrible, and I'd never do it with someone I didn't trust." I whisper the last part of my sentence, my voice getting just as quiet as his.
He laughs a little, "Smart girl."
Then I hear a car door slam outside, Alison and Mrs. DiLaurentis must be home. Both of us glance at the door, and when they walk in, I waste no time in announcing, "I baked cookies!"
Mrs. DiLaurentis walks over to take one happily, but Ali pauses, looking between Jason and I.
"I made chocolate chip for you," I say in a sing-song voice, ignoring the look on her face revealing exactly what her thoughts are.
She rolls her eyes, "I ate at the mall. Let's go." She walks straight upstairs and I sigh as she goes.
Jason gives me a look I can't quite decipher, and when I round the island and walk past him, I say quietly, "By the way, your shirt is on backwards." I pat his shoulder, and then I join Alison upstairs.
•~•
Then I'm back. Still staring at him on the dark street, through his kitchen window, while he stares back at me.
I smile, I haven't thought of that memory in a long time. And all of a sudden, for the first time since Ali was murdered, I miss that house. And I miss that kitchen.
I tilt my head, raise my hand, and give him a small wave. He doesn't return it immediately, instead he moves one step closer to the kitchen window, tilts his head... and then waves back. Mirroring me once again.
I laugh softly, and finally walk away.