At the mention, her father grew a smile. "Is that right? How are they?"
"As jumpy and weird as they've always been."
Sam chuckled. "That sounds about right." He quickly sipped his chocolate shake. "Stiles always asks me about you."
Lacy's face stills. "He does?"
Another sip. "I think he was in shock in the beginning. Everyone was, but, our families are close. He was always asking Noah for updates." Sam finished his burger. "I'm happy he talked to you."
The girl didn't speak for a couple minutes. She spaces out, listening to him sip the bottom of his shake and she hears the crumbling of paper. It hurts her ears like nails on a chalkboard. She doesn't feel herself barring her teeth so hard until they scrape together, then she finches and holds her jaw.
Sam quickly looked her way. "Sweetheart, are you okay?" He placed a fatherly hand on the side of her cheek.
"I'm fine," she whispered and dropped her hand. Lacy turned her head towards the window and she eyed the school. "It's just not the same. I don't think it ever will be."
Her father frowned deeply. "Maybe school won't be the same, but home will be. I'll make it the same."










The girl she sees in the mirror is tired. Her eyes are sunken and purple, her cheeks hollow. Dry, cracked lips dotted with scars. Her lips were always dry no matter how much moisture she tried putting in them. Sometimes she picked at them and they'd bleed. It was a sense of familiarity to feel and see the blood. She raises a shaky hand to her lips and presses four fingers into the skin, slowly sinking them deeper. With tears in her eyes, she pulls her lip downward, feeling the pain and wincing when she draws blood.
There's a knock at her door.
Lacy flinches and drops her hands, widening her eyes at her reflection. 
"Lacy, honey." It's her dad.
"Come in," her voice cracks.
Samuel opened the door and peeked his head inside. "Lacy, baby, someone's here to see you," he tells her.
Lacy furrowed her brows. She watched him open the door even further and step out of the way, revealing a familiar face. Red hair and green eyes. Pale skin. Beautiful. She releases a shaky breath. "Hi, Lacy."
She blinks, the tears in her eyes from before fall. "Hi, Lydia."











While everything in her life seemingly was changing, Lydia Martin remained the same. There's flashbacks to them at fifteen, summer nights spent in Lydia's pool and stealing her mom's cheap wine to drink it on the roof. Sleepovers and sleepless nights. Her gums bleed whenever she thinks about it. It lives in her bones and hurts every time she walks. Two girls who shared strawberry flavored lipgloss and pink nail polish. Braiding each other's hair and sharing clothes. They're girls. Young girls. Lacy wishes to hold onto those memories and yet the biggest one she remembers is that she was supposed to go to Lydia's house that night.
Lydia sits on her bed across from her, Lacy's legs criss crossed and she's slumped over like she's scared that she's there. Her hairs in a messy braid. She's in her pajamas. Lydia hasn't been in her house in so long that she forgot what her bedroom looked like. She forgotten was her voice sounded like. "I didn't see you today."
"Did you know I was there?" Lacy spoke quietly.
Lydia nodded. "Yeah, I heard. I think I was avoiding you."
She frowns. "I don't blame you." She meant it in more than one way. "I was considering not going at all."
Her hand feels cold against the bare skin of knee. "How long have you been back?" Lydia asks with rapid blinks.
Lacy's nails dig into her legs that are covered by pajamas pants. "A while," she answered truthfully.
"I always feel sick when I think about that first week."
"You and me both."
Lydia's eyes water. She fans them with her hand. "Do I ask all of what happened?" She wonders.
A pit formed in Lacy's stomach. "No," she whispers. She licks her dry lips. "Maybe someday, but not now." She watches Lydia gulp, emotions that she always did unleashing in her presence. "Hey, do you want to spend the night? It's a school night but I'm sure my dad won't mind."
Lydia's chest hurts at the hopeful expression that appears on her face. Her green eyes continue to cloud with tears. "I should be getting home," she mutters. She watches her frown. "But I'm so happy you're back, Lace. I'm so happy."
Lacy smiled shortly. She doesn't know how to respond anymore. Lydia leaves. They say goodbye but don't hug. Lady stares at the door after she closes it. She's left all alone again. All alone. All alone. All alone with photos of her dead best friends on the walls around her. Alone with reminders that she's here and they're not. These are the memories of being young she doesn't want to make. She closes her fists in tight balls, nails digging into her skin. She tells herself to let go. But she can't let go. I can't let go. I can't let go. How do I let go?