Early Bird | ✓

07 | crow

"What was that?" Paisley asked uncertainly with the slightest hint of fear.  Lizzy could almost picture her moving toward Mateo swiftly, just so that she could be closer to him; in fact, Lizzy could guess that Paisley was grateful for the excuse to close the distance between herself and Mateo.

"I don't know."

"Let's just get to class."  Teagan and Lizzy listened closely to Mateo and Paisley's fading footsteps.  The two friends exchanged relieved looks, Teagan's hand wrapped around Lizzy's wrist so tightly that her knuckles were as white as snow.

Teagan peered around the trashcan, verifying that Paisley and Mateo had indeed fled the vicinity.  "They're gone.  Thank goodness," she whispered, slouching against the blue metal exterior.  Lizzy joined her until their shoulders rested against each other.  Lizzy froze like an ice statue when she heard sniffles coming from her friend; Teagan was quietly weeping, her eyes bloodshot and cheeks paled.  Lizzy threw her arm across Teagan's shoulder and brought her close, comforting Teagan, not with words but simply with her presence and the love that bloomed inside her heart.

"We're gonna get through this," Lizzy whispered in Teagan's ear, both of their eyes squeezed shut to forget the sorrow around them.  "I don't know how or when, but we are."

❁

Lizzy was dreading lunchtime with every fiber of her being.  Every spare second she was given was spent staring at the clocks above the doors of her classrooms, willing with all her might that the tiny, ticking hands would move at a more sloth-like pace.  Ever since they were kindergartners, Mateo, Teagan, and Lizzy convened together for lunch—it was tradition, it was routine, it was normal.  They had always owned twelve o'clock, packing the hour with laughter and stories and smiles.

And, occasionally, fights.

Lizzy recalled one time in seventh grade when Teagan and Mateo were engaged in one of their worse squabbles.  The night before, Teagan's mother had cut Teagan's long, straight hair into a bob with a perfectly even line of bangs across her forehead.  Teagan absolutely hated it—"I look like a toddler," she had whined, her bottom lip quivering as she and Lizzy stared at Teagan's reflection in the school's bathroom's mirror.

"You sure do sound like one," Lizzy retorted.  Even though her glare full of fire burnt Lizzy, Teagan said nothing.  Now that she looked back on it, Lizzy guessed that Teagan was storing all of her upset emotions and that she was bound to explode eventually.  And that happened to occur during lunchtime with Mateo as the unfortunate receiver.

Teagan had worn a hat all day to disguise her humiliating haircut, her face constantly flushed with embarrassment.  Unlike her usual self, Teagan hadn't uttered a single word throughout the entire day; instead, she lingered in the back of the classroom, endeavoring to blend into the bland walls as best as she could.  Mateo, who was oblivious to girls and their feelings, was unaware of the change in Teagan.

"What're you wearing that for?" he asked inconsiderately, reaching for Teagan's hat.  Teagan evaded his invading hand and didn't reply, plopping into the seat next to Lizzy instead.  Lizzy glimpsed knowingly at her friend, whose shoulder were hunched over as though she was carrying the world on them.

Perplexed, Mateo looked back and forth between his two friends.  "What's going on?" he inquired, receiving no answer.

After a few minutes of silence, Lizzy reassured him, "It's nothing, Mateo.  Don't worry about it."  Mateo picked at his food skeptically, not believing a single word his friend told him.  He bit his lip and tried to discern the issue that Teagan and Lizzy weren't disclosing to him.  Finally, he decided to take matters into his own hands—literally.