Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You were 10 when you stole the dress. 

It was near the end of summer, just before you had to go back-to-school shopping. You hated getting new clothes. You always would try to pretend you didn't hate shopping, since Elizabeth and Ma liked it so much, but they could always tell. Your moms would tease you a bit, poke fun at how the only boy in the family 'predictably' hated clothes shopping. They didn't mean anything bad by it. You felt guilty about that too.

As it stood, you were dreading the outing later in the week, but that wasn't today's problem. Today you were cleaning out your room. Once a year, you and Elizabeth (far too 'mature' now to be called Lizzie) had to go through all your things and pack up any old clothes that didn't fit or that you didn't think you would wear anymore, along with any toys you no longer wanted, to be donated. 

When you were little, the process stressed you out. What if you missed the old shirts you hadn't worn in forever? Making decisions, especially permanent ones, was just too scary. Your moms didn’t make you give anything away, it was your choice, but they used to sit with you and coach you through whether you really wanted to keep each thing or if giving it up just felt too scary in the moment. Now though, at 10, you weren't nearly as bothered. You liked to keep some things as mementos, but you were growing fast and you didn't really feel attached to your clothes.

It happened when you went downstairs to drop off your first box. Realistically, you thought, you might have a small bag worth of stuff left, but this would probably be your only box. You rounded the corner into the living room as Elizabeth brushed past you, scowling. She was decidedly not a big fan of losing some of her stuff every year, even if it was just old clothes that didn’t fit. You looked past her as she walked by and could see that she had dropped off her first box as well.

And there it was – a simple yellow sundress she had worn quite a bit last year but not so much now that she was taller. Before you realized what you were doing, you picked it up. You looked around. Elizabeth was doubtlessly back in her room, going through her stuff again. Your moms were nowhere to be seen, probably back in their room as well. You let out a shaky breath, and without really knowing why, you scurried off to your room, your new treasure clutched tightly against your chest.

Frantic, you practically slammed the door when you made it to your room, silently cursing yourself for making too much noise. Your stomach rolled with nerves, and you laid the dress out on your bed.

Why did you take it, you thought. Your brow furrowed as you stared at your prize. It just felt... right somehow – like it was what you were supposed to do. Yet at the same time, you could already feel the guilt eating at you.

She was giving it away, anyway; this isn't stealing. But why did it feel even worse then? Why did you know, deep in your gut, that you had to keep this a secret? No, you were definitely doing something wrong, otherwise it wouldn't feel this bad.

You tried to steady your breathing, just then noticing it had quickened, and reached out a hand, brushing the fabric. Obviously you wanted it for a reason, and a small part of you could admit what that reason was. The rest, however, fought an ultimately losing battle to not realize that you wanted to put it on.

This is so stupid, you thought. It's just a dress – Lizzie's dress. It's weird that you want to wear it. Something must be wrong with you.

Your hand still on the dress, you scrunched up your face with worry. I should just get it over with, you decided. Putting it on felt inevitable, and the faster you wore it, the faster you could take it off and sneak it back downstairs and try desperately to forget this whole weird thing ever happened. You could hang out with Cove later, that always helped distract you from things you wanted to forget.

Sighing, you slipped your clothes off and kicked them to the corner of your room. Slowly, tentatively, you held up the dress and slipped it over your head.

You held your breath. The dress didn't feel all that different at first, it was just clothes, after all. It did fit a little weird; you and Elizabeth-of-last-year weren't exactly the same size, but it was close enough to work ok. You turned and faced yourself in the mirror in your room.

You looked... nice.

The dress was cute and flowy. The color was bright and happy. You almost looked like one of the girls in your class last year, especially now that your shaggy black hair had gotten longer – a little longer now even than Cove's! It wasn't until your eyes reached your face that you saw you were blushing a light pink.

You felt nervous, confused, and guilty, but more than any of those, in this moment you felt happy. You were smiling, and you hadn't smiled at yourself in the mirror for a long time. 

"Hey, Markus, have you seen my..."

The door to your room burst open as Elizabeth unceremoniously pushed into your room, not thinking or not bothering to knock. Her words died in her mouth and her eyes widened as she took in the sight of you. You spun around to face her, eyes also widening in shock. If your face was warm and pink before, it burned a hot scarlet now in shame. You could feel your stomach drop as you watched her face. You looked away, unable to meet her eyes any longer.

She knows you're a freak.

Time seemed to stand still, and that horrible, sickeningly awkward moment stretched out forever. You felt incapable of speaking – not an uncommon occurrence, you often had trouble talking when you got overwhelmed. Now though, your brain kept short circuiting before you could even form complete thoughts. All you knew was that your skin felt cold, and clammy, and you felt suddenly like your body was taking up too much room, like it was this weird, misshapen puppet you didn't really know how to control. You felt disgusting.

"Uh... whatever," Elizabeth said, awkwardly shuffling her feet in a way that seemed very unlike her. "You can just... keep it."

You couldn't bring yourself to answer her, but you stole a glance at your sister through the corner of your eyes. After 10 years in the same house, you felt like you had gotten pretty good at reading Elizabeth. Not perfect, but pretty good. You were certainly better at predicting her than you were at predicting other people. The only person you were better at interpreting than her was Cove, but that hardly seemed like a fair comparison; Cove was just obvious. Now, though, you had no idea what your sister was thinking. 'Unsure' wasn't an expression you were used to seeing on her.

Would she tell our moms? You thought. You couldn’t bear that right now. They might get mad, lecture you about stealing, ground you even. But you knew that wasn't likely. More likely they'd get that look on their faces – the one they always got when you said something weird. They'd sit you down 'to talk' because they just 'want to make sure everything is okay.' They'd ask you questions you didn't know how to answer and always look so... sad. Or maybe scared. Concerned.

You couldn't handle that right now – not about this. You couldn't bear to mess things up even more, to make things worse like you always do.

"P-please," you said, voice so small you wondered if Elizabeth even heard you. "Please don't tell our moms."

Elizabeth was still for a terrifying moment, before giving you a stiff nod. You fully expected to have to do some of her chores later in exchange for keeping the secret, but that was worth it. Then again, she wasn't smirking like she usually does whenever she learns a secret. Maybe she just wouldn't tell.

Elizabeth turned around without a word and left, closing the door behind her. You practically collapsed to the ground as soon as the door closed. Panting, you grabbed handfuls of your hair as tight as you could while your heart pounded away, panic crashing in on you now that that horrible eternity had ended. You practically tore the dress off and got dressed in your regular clothes as fast as you could. Balled up, you shoved the dress into an old backpack in the back of your closet that you kept to use for packing for trips, hoping that would be a good enough hiding place.

For the rest of the afternoon, you devoted all of your focus to packing up things to give away. In hindsight, you were a bit more decisive, or perhaps callous, in what you gave away than normal. Your moms had to actually force you to put some things back. You hadn't realized you were giving up so much; it just felt like there was something you had to make up for.

Chapter Text

It was a Saturday, only a few weeks into 7th grade, and as you often found yourself doing when you had free time, you were hanging out with Cove. 

During the summers you would spend a lot of time at the beach together, you swimming or making sand castles and him surfing or swimming with you. During the school year you found yourselves spending more time inside – always at your house, never at his.

Even though you had lost the shared activity of playing with toys together as you got older, you still found ways to occupy time together – chatting, playing board games or even video games when you could get access to the family computer. Sometimes you would just read while he bounced a ball around, glad for each other's company.

Today was one such quiet day indoors together. You were trying to practice drawing while Cove laid on your bed, playing with a handheld gaming console of yours. Much to your frustration, all your sketches were coming out wonky and disproportionate, and you had started a growing pile of balled-up reject drawings in and around your desk-side trash can. In your head, you rationalized that the beeps from Cove's game and the intermittent chatting between you two was distracting you. In reality, however, you kept finding yourself looking over to the closet, mind seemingly fixated on what you had hidden there.

The dress had remained in your closet for more than two years by this point, and other than one very close call when your moms had helped you thoroughly clean and clean out your room, it had largely stayed hidden in the backpack in the back of your closet. 

You weren't sure why you kept it. Part of you screamed to throw it out. Another part of you hoped that whatever weird thought made you want to wear it would just go away if you ignored it. So far neither had happened, and since you could neither throw it away nor forget about it, the dress stayed in the back of your closet. 

Most of the time, you didn't really think about the dress much. In fact, you had started to get kinda good at Not Thinking About It. For whatever reason, today was different.

Your hands were shaky. There was no reason to be nervous, you thought to yourself. Cove had been in your room countless times since you hid the dress. He had no idea it was there and no reason to go snooping around in your closet. But the alarm in the back of your mind was still going off full force. Your best friend was barely 10 feet away from your biggest secret, from the thing you were the most ashamed of. 

What would happen if Cove saw it? Would he think you were weird? Gross? You were pretty sure he wouldn’t tease you for it, that just wasn’t how he was, but what if he didn’t want to be friends anymore. Or what if it was ok. What if you could talk to him about it? What if he also wanted to wear girl clothes sometimes and you weren’t weird for it. Or you were both weird but that was ok because you were together.

You realized in that moment that you had been drumming your fingers for the last few minutes, and that it had gotten loud . You looked over to see Cove staring at you, eyebrow raised and head tilted in an obvious question. 

You looked away, not knowing what to say but knowing that you had to stop being so fidgety. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“Hey, uh, can I see what you’re drawing?” Cove asked. 

You blinked, temporarily snapped from your spiraling thoughts. You turned to him, smiled, and shook your head.

“Nope. They’re bad.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled back. “I’ve never seen you draw something bad.”

“That’s because I don’t let you see the bad ones. Only the mostly-not-bad ones.”

He turned back to his game, still smiling softly and shaking his head. The two of you had had this ongoing joke, or something like it, since he first came over and visited after you had just met, when he complimented your little kid art and you told him it was bad. You never let him see anything in progress and half the time you wouldn’t let him see the finished work either. Only the pieces that were good enough saw the light of day.

You turned back to your desk, smiling. It was nice how easy it was for him to help pull you out of one of these moods. You wondered if he even knew he was helping you. Was it on purpose? Or did he just make you feel more calm when you got talking?

Shaking your head, you went back to drawing, figuring if you tried to focus more on that, you could ignore the dress and not risk making the mood any weirder. At first you mostly just doodled to keep your hands busy. Once that got boring, you decided you wanted to try and draw figures. Naturally, you started sketching Cove, him being your only reference and all. Certainly there was no other reason for choosing him as your subject. However, much to your frustration, none of your sketches could do him justice. His hair looked flat and plain in your pictures when it should be silky and flowing, and you couldn’t get his eyes to sparkle like they did in real life. 

After the first two attempts to capture him, the whole process of drawing Cove with him sitting right there got to be a bit too embarrassing, so you moved on to trying to draw without a reference. You tried to draw someone you didn’t know, someone made up that you couldn’t get wrong because they didn’t exist. You started drawing a girl. Maybe she could be your age, or maybe older. The figure was facing away from you, that way you didn’t have to worry about a face. You drew her in a flowy dress - not because you had dresses on the mind, they were just easier to draw is all - and you drew long flowy black hair, the same color as yours but down to this girl’s waist and blowing in an imaginary wind. 

Looking at the drawing of the girl made you feel strange. It wasn’t your best work, not by a long shot, but something about her felt... familiar. Maybe she was based on a character from one of the books you read? Or maybe she could be a character if you ever tried writing like you’d been meaning to. 

Discomfort began to grow in you. You didn’t know why it started bothering you, but the poor sketch you had done made you feel just about as unsettled as the dress in your closet. You balled that up too in case Cover were to look over and see what you were working on.

Silence crept back in, and the room started to feel suffocating again. Without the drawing to distract you, your mind wandered back to the dress. Why did you still have it? You couldn’t actually wear it anymore. Why did you ever want to wear it in the first place? Why did the picture you drew make you feel weird in the same kind of way?

Despite all the uncertainty in your head, there was one thing you were certain about, you needed to get out of this room.

"H-hey, uhh, do you wanna maybe... go to the beach?" You could feel yourself sweating.

Cove looked at you kinda strangely, and then said, "Sure. I've been meaning to spend more time in the water before it gets colder."

"Cool, cool. Uh, get changed and meet outside?"

Cove nodded. "Okay." He got up to leave before turning around and offering you a quick, stiff wave. "Uh, bye." Immediately he closed his eyes and turned around, shaking his head at his own awkwardness.

You didn't get up from your desk chair until you heard the door open and shut again, signaling that he left. You let out a long sigh and then went and shut your own door. 

As if drawn to it involuntarily, you walked straight to the closet, and with shaky hands, withdrew your hidden treasure.

You hadn't gotten a chance to wear it much – after that first disastrous attempt, you made a promise to yourself to never wear it when anyone else was in the house. Since even your older sister wasn't allowed yet to be alone in the house for long periods of time, opportunities like that were rare. Even when they arose, you often didn't take them. What if someone else came home and you didn't notice? What if you forgot to hide it afterwards and someone saw? Elizabeth hadn't spoken about that day at all, much to your initial surprise, but it still didn't bode well to take chances like that.

While you weren't wearing it currently, and thus weren't technically breaking your rule, this still felt risky.

Not that you could wear it any more even if you wanted to. You had grown quite a bit in the last two years, and while you were by no means tall, certainly nothing like Cove, you still were much bigger than you used to be. You had gained quite a bit of weight over the past few years. Your mothers insisted it meant you would grow more soon, but you weren't sure. You couldn't ever recall a time when Elizabeth was chubby – just you. And whether you were going to stay wider or grow taller, the fact remained, the dress simply didn't fit you any more.

Nonetheless, you held your one and only dress in front of you and found yourself flooded with the same powerful, conflicting emotions it always gave you. You wanted to wear it, you wanted it gone, you wanted it to fit you, you wanted a body that could fit it, you wanted to never think any of these things again.

Eventually you closed your eyes and shoved the dress back into the bag, and practically threw the bag back into your closet, away from you once more. You didn't have time for this; Cove was waiting on you. You moved on from the conflicting emotions that the dress brought you to the rather simple ones your regular clothes brought: mild disdain and utter disinterest. It wasn't even that you hated your clothes, they just didn't feel like anything, and you really didn't like how you looked in any of them.

Swimwear was, of course, the worst. It was probably because you were chubby – you didn't like showing your stomach. You felt confident there was nothing else to it than that. Ultimately you threw on some black swim trunks and an old t-shirt, grabbed a towel and a book to read, and dashed out to meet Cove.

Cove was waiting for you in the street, tapping his foot and looking around. He didn't seem impatient, as the foot tapping might imply, he just always needed to be fidgeting. You had that in common.

Cove smiled as he saw you come out. He was wearing one of his wetsuits and had a board tucked under his arm. You waved shyly. He had a habit of staring kind of intensely sometimes, such as now. His gaze always made you feel kinda warm.

"You, um, ready to go?" you asked. He nodded, and the two of you walked the familiar path down to the beach. The walk was uncharacteristically quiet, you and he both seemed too awkward to speak. That had been happening more recently, often accompanied by blushing cheeks for the both of you. You knew why you sometimes felt awkward around him – you had this secret and weren’t very good at talking to people (and certainly that was all there was to it!) – but you had no idea why he would feel awkward around you. You hoped you hadn’t done anything to make him feel weird.

Soon your feet were planted in the warm white sand, and you gazed out on the ocean. Cove smiled at you, as warm as the sand under your feet and laughed as he sprinted for the shore, eager to get out and catch some waves. You laugh and cheer him on, glad that the earlier awkwardness seemed to be dispelled.

Your towel fluttered as you laid it out, and you sat down, basking in the warm sun and opening your book.This way, you figured, you could hang out with Cove but didn’t have to take off your shirt and could be a little more quiet than usual – which was already a feat in and of itself. Despite your new distance, you still found your thoughts drifting back to the dress. It was better that you were on the beach and Cove in the waves – maybe he wouldn’t notice your shaky hands, or faraway eyes.

As it turns out, that was not the case.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, staring at the same page without moving, but you did know you hadn’t read a single word. Your mind was elsewhere. Even with distance, you still couldn't stop thinking about the dress. But more than that, your thoughts had wandered into another place they often went.

Why can’t I just be normal?

“Markus?”

You hadn't noticed Cove’s shadow over you until he spoke, and you looked up with a start.

“Oh... are you already done surfing?” The moment you asked the question you regretted it. You could see behind him that the tide was much closer now; you must have been here longer than you realized. Cove squinted and looked at you strangely. You couldn’t help but look away.

“Um... yeah,” Silence stretched out several painful moments before you heard a crunch beside you and turned to see Cove sitting down to your side, board stuck in the sand next to him. His face kept contorting, eyes scrunching up as he would almost start to speak but seemingly think better of it. You both sat quietly for a minute or two before he finally spoke up.

“Are you ok?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Anything you said would make it worse. 

“You just... you seem kinda weird today. Or, wait-” his eyes went wide with panic. “Not like- I don’t mean ‘bad weird,’ just like you feel weird. Maybe. Uh...”

“Cove,” You finally spoke up, head resting on your knees, staring out at the water rather than at your friend. “What would you do if you found out something about me? Something bad.”

“Wh-what?” You could feel his eyes on you. You didn’t answer.

“I mean-” he continued, “I’m sure whatever it is isn’t that bad. ‘Cause you’re, um, you’re really good, so... And either way, you’re my friend. So... yeah.”

You didn’t believe him, but you couldn’t help but smile.

“What... what is it?”

You swallowed. “It’s nothing. I was just asking. Just ‘cause.”

Before he had a chance to ask any more questions, you got up and started to pack up your stuff.

“C’mon, we should get home.” Cove followed without a word.

Chapter Text

Cove walked out of his house and was greeted by the warmth of the sun on his face. After finally getting through his history assignment, he was ready to do anything else with the rest of his day before he inevitably had to go to bed and go back to school tomorrow to do it all over again. As usual, Cove’s dad wasn't home, and since there really wasn't anything he wanted to do at the house, that left one thing for him to occupy his time with: seeing Markus. 

It had been an unusually busy week, and Cove hadn't seen his best friend since they hung out on the beach on Saturday. 

'Where he kept being really weird...' Cove thought, before doing his best to push the thought away. People already thought Markus was weird. Neither of them had many friends - they both weren't super social - but whereas Cove was good at sports and people seemed to like him ok for that even if he didn't talk much, Markus wasn't. He was... well he was kinda big, and some other kids teased him for it. He was shy and quiet, always reading or drawing, and he stuttered a lot whenever he got called on in class. No one was directly mean , at least not most of the time, but people didn't really like him. They thought he was weird.

And Cove refused to be another person that thought that about him.

Cove walked across the street and up to Markus’s door. Having lived here for more than 4 years, and having been best friends with Marcus for basically as long, Cove knew where the strangely placed doorbell was, but knocked anyway. For some reason the doorbell felt too formal.

Cove waited for a few moments before Mrs. Waters, Markus’s mom, opened the door.

“Well, hello Cove,” she said, cheerfully. “I’m sorry, but you just missed Markus. ‘Lani just got back from dropping him and Elizabeth off at the library. We’re not going to pick them up until about dinner time.” Markus’s Mom gave him an apologetic smile.

“Oh...” Cove replied, a little dejected. He turned to leave before Mrs. Waters stopped him. 

“Wait, actually... Would you mind stepping in for a moment? Me and Markus’s Ma want to talk to you. 

“Uhhh” Cove replied, if it could even be called that. His mind went into overdrive trying to figure out what this could possibly be about, certain it wasn't good.

“Not for anything bad!” Mrs. Waters reassured him, holding her hands up as if to ward off his obvious nervousness. “You aren’t in trouble or anything. We just had something we wanted to ask you and now's as good a time as any.”

“Oh, uh, okay?” Cove said, scratching his cheek awkwardly. Markus's Mom turned to the side and gestured for him to come in. Tentatively, he stepped inside.

On the couch in the living room was Markus’s Ma, reading a magazine with her legs curled under her to the side. She glanced up as Markus's Mom closed the door behind Cove.

“Hello Cove,” she greeted, tilting her head slightly in confusion at his presence. 

“Um, hey.” Between the two Waters family Matriarchs, Cove had always liked Noelani a bit more than Pamela. She was far less likely to tease him.

“I asked Cove to come in for a quick chat, ‘Lani. You know, what we were talking about yesterday?” Pam said, locking eyes with her wife.

“Oh! Well yes, please come in and have a seat then, Cove.” Markus’s Ma gestured towards the empty armchair as her wife came and sat beside her. She put her magazine down and turned slightly to face Cove as he sat in the offered chair.

The air was obviously tense. Cove had no idea how to break that tension, nor did he feel like he should have to since they were the ones who wanted to talk to him. Instead he fidgeted in his chair silently while the Mrs's Waters glanced at each other awkwardly, seemingly unsure of what to say.

It occurred to Cove in that moment that, despite the massive amount of time he had spent in this house over the years, this was probably the first time he had been in it without Markus. They always came here whenever they wanted to hang out at a house rather than the beach. Cove wasn't entirely sure why, but it felt too scary to invite Markus into his room, so they didn't tend to spend much time at his place. Plus Markus’s drawing stuff and video games were here so it was way more convenient. But this place that was so familiar felt so different without his best friend there. No matter how quiet he was, Markus had this way of making any space he was in feel really comfortable, like he and Cove could just exist there forever without having to worry. Without him, sitting in his living room just made Cove feel stiff and weird, awkward non-conversation notwithstanding.

Pamela finally cleared her throat. “So... Cove. We wanted to ask you...” she squinted her eyes, trying to think of the right words to say. “... how has Markus been lately?”

‘What?’  

Cove could have guessed this would be about Markus, that wasn't a surprise. But what did they mean by ‘How is he?’ And why are they acting like that was some big question? It didn’t make sense.

“...fine?”

“What we mean is,” Markus's Ma added, interjecting, “has Markus seemed... different, lately? Has he been off, or maybe upset about something?”

‘What would you do if you found out something about me? Something bad.’

Markus's words came unbidden into Cove's head. He looked to the side and bit, avoiding eye contact, realizing only after that it made it obvious there was something he didn't want to say. “What, like- different how?” he asked, hoping to deflect the question for as long as possible.

“Well, has anything happened at school recently? Did he maybe get in trouble or maybe get into a fight with a friend?” Pamela added - pointedly for the last part. Markus didn't really have friends besides Cove.

“No.” Cove replied confidently. They hadn't fought and if Markus had gotten in trouble in a class they didn't have together, he sure hadn't heard about it. Besides, even if he had, did they really think Cove would rat out his best friend? Markus had walked all the way with him to the edge of town when they were 8 and he had tried to run away. Then Markus apologized to him after they were brought home, despite him being the one who got Markus into trouble. Cove knew Markus would do anything for him; they had to know that Cove would do anything for him too.

Pam sighed and Noelani frowned. Noelani leaned forward and asked “And you're sure, Honey, that he hasn't been acting any different around you lately?”

Guilt twisted in Cove's stomach as he looked away from them again, desperately wanting this conversation to end. He had been acting weird on Saturday. And telling his moms about that wouldn't be the same as telling them if he got in trouble, right? It's not like he'd done anything... well clearly Markus thought he'd done something wrong so maybe his Mom's would too. It was probably for the best not to say anything. Cove didn't want to accidentally get him in trouble, even if keeping this to himself made him feel really uncomfortable. 

“No. Just... we've been normal.” He answered finally, with grim determination.

“Alright, well if you're sure, then we won't keep you.” Pam said, looking dejected.

“Thank you for talking to us Cove,” Noelani added. “Just know, we're here if you ever want to talk. You and Markus aren't in trouble, far from it. We're just... worried about him.”

Cove didn't know how to reply, so he just nodded before hurriedly getting up and heading out the door. He shut it just a little too hard before leaning his back up against it. He closed his eyes hard and took a few deep breaths, trying to recover from what may have been one of the top five most awkward conversations of his life.

It was only after a few seconds of breathing that Cove realized he could faintly hear Markus’s moms talking on the other side of the door.

“Well,” Noelani sighed, “that could have gone better.”

“Ha! You're telling me. I don't think we managed to do anything but scare the poor boy half to death.”

“Well, at least we know Markus isn't acting like this just around us. Cove clearly noticed it too. He's not a good liar.”

“Do you think maybe he has a crush, pining over some girl? This could all just be average teen melodrama.”

“Oh please. Pamela, we both know our son has had exactly one crush and that hasn't changed since he was in elementary school.”

Cove’s cheeks burned. He had no idea who they were talking about, but he was suddenly sure that he shouldn't be listening in.

He got up off the door and quickly made his way across the street, back to his house and away from that whole, stressful situation.

Chapter Text

“So, how was school today?” Ma asked as she pulled out of the parking lot. You were in the back seat, and Elizabeth, having been picked up first from the high school just up the road, was in the front. Since technically the question could have been directed towards either you or her, neither if you spoke for an awkwardly long moment.

Ma sighed. “I'm aware that I should only expect monosyllabic answers when talking to teenagers. I can accept that. I would like that one whole syllable though, please.” She said, glancing through the rear view mirror with a bit of a smile in her eyes.

“Markus is only 12,” Elizabeth added with a smirk.

“Close enough,” Ma laughed.

You sunk down further in your seat, embarrassed about being the butt of the joke, even if nothing actually mean was said. 

In truth it hadn't been a great day. You'd messed up a question when you were called on by a teacher because you'd been doodling in your notebook. Embarrassingly, you were met with snickers from your class at your mistake. It probably wasn't a big deal, but it really bothered you. You were fat and slow so it wasn't like you could be athletic like Cove, and you were awkward and bad at making friends so it's not like you were funny or charming to make up for it. If you weren't at least smart, what good were you?

Worse, Cove had been kinda distant lately. You hadn't been able to see him outside of school since Saturday, and he'd been awkward around you since then. You knew all that stuff you'd said on the beach was a mistake. You thought he'd forget about it, but instead you went and made things weird again, bringing down everyone's mood like always. You knew that if you could just hang out with him for a bit, you could do a better job being normal and he'd stop worrying about all the weird stuff you said. Sadly, 45 minutes every other day at lunch wasn't enough and you couldn't see him tonight because you and Elizabeth were going to the library to do homework, so today had been another bad day on that front.

But how were you supposed to say all of that to your Ma?

“School was ok,” you said instead, furrowing your brow and looking out the window. A beat passed in silence, enough for you to guess she was still glancing at you through the mirror.

“Well, at least it wasn't a bad day. What about you, Elizabeth?”

“School is school,” she said, as you watched the buildings go by.

A quiet moment passed in the car, Ma having failed to start a conversation with either of you. Undeterred, she tried again.

“So, are you all set for the library? Got everything you need for your homework?”

Elizabeth scoffed. “You picked us up straight from school, of course we have our school stuff.” You felt her answer summed things up, so you didn't feel the need to add anything.

“You know, it wasn't too long ago that you two loved the library.”

Truth be told, you still did. The library at your school was an ok place to hang out when you were waiting to be picked up, but the one you were going to now had a better selection. Plus it had more memories associated with it. It's just that it was far less pleasant if you were going there to do homework.

Elizabeth echoed what you'd been thinking. “Sure, when I was a little kid and didn't have homework.”

“Alright, alright,” your Ma sighed. “I won't try to put silver linings on your school work.” She pulled the car into the lot and you and Elizabeth unbuckled your seat belts. “I'll be back in about two hours to pick you up.”

Elizabeth waved her off and you nodded. Then you were out the doors and the car was pulling away.

---

You were about halfway through your assigned reading for the week. English wasn't the only homework you had to do, but since you were at the library, reading made the most sense to prioritize. The smell of old books always made reading more fun at the library than at home, even if it was for an assignment rather than something you actually wanted to be reading. Still, as assigned reading went, this wasn't too bad. Maybe you'd check out more books by the same author once you were done.

You closed your eyes and took off your glasses for a moment, rubbing the bridge of your nose as you took a break from reading. When you opened your eyes, you looked across the table at Elizabeth. 

You two didn't really see that much of each other any more. Obviously you saw each other by way of both living In the same house, but you didn't really spend time together anymore. Last year, when she was still in middle school with you, you two would hang out occasionally. Now that she was in high school, you obviously didn't see her around the halls or at lunch anymore,  and she only ever really wanted to hang out with her friends from school.

You knew the timeline didn’t quite add up - you two still hung out a good bit last year after all - but you couldn’t help but wonder if she was kinda cold with you now because of the dress...

She glanced up at you, deadpan. “What?”

“Um, what are you working on?”

“History.”

“Cool.” You said, scratching the back of your head. “Can I help?”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “I'm in high school; I don't need help from a 7th grader, no matter how smart you are,” she said, her voice slightly venomous. In hindsight, you felt dumb for offering. It's not like you even knew what 9th grade history covered. You just couldn't help but remember when you used to do your homework together, helping each other.

“W-well, maybe you could help me with my math later?” You did actually struggle a bit with that, and since asking to help her made her mad...

“Weren't you just bragging about being able to do my work? I'm sure you'll figure it out.”

You sunk back in your chair, dejected. This place used to be fun for you two. Back when you were both in elementary school, you remembered the summer book lists. You and Elizabeth would check out and read as many of the books on the list as possible. She always wanted to make it a competition, but in truth, you just liked reading. And at the end of the summer, there was a quiz on all the books you had read, which Elizabeth always loved.

You missed that. It was something you did together.

A sigh broke you out of your contemplative moping. “Alright,” Elizabeth said. “Give it here.”

“W-what?” you said, looking up at her in surprise.

She rolled her eyes. “Your homework. Let me take a look.”

You slid your work across the table and Elizabeth started to go over it. Over the next fifteen minutes, she explained the assignment to you and helped you with a couple of problems. It felt a little like it used to. By the time she passed the assignment back to you, you felt a little bit bolder and a little bit sentimental.

“Hey, do you, um, do you remember the quizzes we used to do here?”

Elizabeth let out a snort. “Oh god, yeah I do. Those were so stupid,” she said, but with a smile on her face. You smiled too. Elizabeth’s expression softened for a moment. “And I remember those last couple of quizzes you did with me instead of hanging out with your Baby Boyfriend.”

You cringed a little at the embarrassing nickname she had for Cove. Obviously Elizabeth didn't mean it the same way as the guys at school who made those kinds of jokes about you and Cove - you both had the same two moms afterall. She probably was just teasing you for how much time you two spent together. I mean, it’s not like you had a crush on Cove, and he certainly didn’t have one on you. Elizabeth just smirked at your reaction and continued on.

“That was cool of you.”

You chuckled and rubbed the back of your head, looking away. “Yeah... those were really fun.” Maybe your sister did still like hanging out with you...