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The sound of the locker door slamming shut was like a gunshot in Keir’s skull. She hated the way it echoed, hated that she’d let herself get lost in the quiet long enough for someone to sneak up on her. When she turned and saw Lizzy Albright standing there, bright-eyed, bouncing like a cheerleader even when she wasn’t on the field, Keir almost laughed. Of course it was Lizzy. Of course it had to be her. None of the other cheerleaders approached her and Keir didn’t approach them either, she wasn’t the most fond of cheerleaders. Ironic.
Lizzy smiled the same way she always did, wide and warm, like the sun could just be conjured out of her cheeks. Keir felt the same instinct she always did in these moments: the urge to recoil. Because Lizzy wasn’t dangerous, not really—but she was a reminder. A mirror held up to a girl Keir used to be, one she could never stomach looking at anymore.
“Hey” Lizzy chirped, and Keir almost said don’t. Don’t talk to me like nothing’s changed. Don’t say it like we’re still girls on the bleachers sharing gummy worms.
Instead, she stared. A silent, flat stare that was half defense, half plea: leave me the hell alone.
But Lizzy pressed on, chirping about the cheer squad, about how she’d noticed Keir hadn’t signed up, like she was auditioning for sainthood. Keir wanted to tell her the truth: that she’d rather choke than wear that uniform again, rather set herself on fire than pretend she belonged in that pastel world. Instead, she let Lizzy’s words trail over her like static. Cartwheels. Big comeback. Senior year.
God, Lizzy was relentless. Always had been. It used to be sweet, back when Keir still believed in best friends, in pinky promises, in the kind of loyalty that didn’t eventually curdle. Now it just hurt.
“No one can do cartwheels like you,” Lizzy pressed, light, teasing. “Everyone’s been gunning for your big senior comeback. Especially me.”
Keir’s throat caught on something she didn’t want to name. Lizzy still said everyone like they were all in this together, like the cracks hadn’t split wide open and swallowed them whole. Perhaps, if Keir had been stronger, she would have walked pass Lizzy without a word. But instead, she looked at the girl, she once called a best friend and said: "“You sound like Charlotte,” she said finally, voice thin but steady. Keir tilted her head, not unkind, but sharp enough to sting. “Always so sure of what people want. Always so sure of what I should want.” Her arms folded loosely, “I’m not her friend anymore nor yours. i don’t want a big senior comeback. Not on her stage. Not in her uniform. You can have it—all of you can have it. I don’t want to live in her shadow anymore, Elizabeth, but you’re pretty good at it.”
If you had told keir years ago, that she would be speaking to Lizzy like this, she would have called you a liar and pray it never happened, but a lot has changed in a year, especially her.
] ‧₊˚✧@novella ✧˚₊‧