God help me this thing is getting so long.
Everyone still into this? We've got some big things coming up in a couple chapters.
Comments and likes appreciated
___________________________________________
Izzie stares at the half page of carefully written notes. Her econ professor is taking longer than usual to get to the point, which is already longer than any other teacher she's ever had. She sighs. This class is too easy! She could probably teach it herself. The University of Connecticut isn't as rigorous as UCLA which, honestly, wasn't as rigorous as Clayton Prep. Of course all of them blew the community college she had attended sophomore year out of the water. But at least she'd paid practically nothing to get the rest of her core classes out of the way. And she'd lived at home so didn't have to pay for housing or food. Not any more than she ever had, anyway. The thought of that year back at home made her shudder.
Coming back home, moving back into the apartment she'd waited so long to leave, had been one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do. Her mother's gloating look of satisfaction as Izzie walked through the front door had made her want to vomit. But then Gabby had been there, looking pale and thin. Izzie had wrapped her in a huge hug and Gabby had sobbed, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" into her shoulder until Izzie had shushed her comfortingly and told her everything would be ok. Then Dylan, now almost as tall as she was, had come to lean in the doorway, making grim eye contact with Izzie over their sobbing sister. His expression broadcast his relief... and also just how hard her 9 months away had been on them. Izzie had been worried that Gabby wouldn't be able to fill her shoes. It's not that Gabby wasn't competent enough... it's just that it was impossible, for any kid. Izzie still wasn't sure how she'd been able to do it for so long. It had taken just as big a toll on her as it had on Gabby, just in different ways. She preferred not to think about it.
In her more honest moments now Izzie can admit that the writing was on the wall long before she even left for UCLA. She had known when she did the quick math subtracting her scholarship amount from the total cost of tuition, housing and transportation. The number was so much bigger than she'd imagined. Izzie had always been excellent at math. So she had quickly worked out approximately what her total debt would be after 4 years, taking into account the interest rate on her loan. It just didn't make sense. Sure if she had a supportive family... or a family that she wasn't supporting... she could spend the next decade of her life paying off the debt. Because, let's be honest, she was going to have a well-paying job. She'd make sure of that. But all the loan payments would be money she wouldn't have to help Gabby get a car, or help Dylan and Chloe with college... to support her grandma when she got too old to work. It didn't make sense. But she'd tried to do it anyway. She had to try. For Casey. Hadn't she promised to never leave her again?
By the time she'd let herself fully acknowledge that she wasn't going back for sophomore year it had been too late to enroll at the local community college. So she'd spent the semester tutoring for a family she'd met through her recurrent summer camp counseling job. Then she'd spent the summer working and taking summer classes, making up for the semester she'd missed. Izzie had also spent it getting her family back on their feet. Gabby had been just a shell of herself, so lost in a clinical depressive episode and a budding substance abuse issue that she'd stopped eating and going to school. The school had called Child Protective Services and they were threatening to take the kids away again. Never one to rise to a challenge Sasha had reacted by blaming Gabby for everything and relapsing, again, pouring gasoline on an already roaring fire. Izzie's grandma had done what she could, and even moved in for a while, but she was already paying for half their rent and after working long hours at her friend's restaurant she was exhausted and ready to collapse at the end or each day. She often fell asleep in front of the tv at night with her swollen feet on the coffee table, half folded laundry on her lap and Chloe snuggled into her side.
Izzie's disappointment at being back where she started had been like a black rage burning her from within. She'd been angry, short tempered and just plain mean more often than she cared to admit. After spending all day with the kids at summer camp and, in the fall, tutoring, she was done with children by the time she got home. Sometimes, after she yelled at Dylan to do his dishes or snapped at Chloe for refusing to brush her teeth she wondered if she was doing more harm than good. But, as always, she'd buckled down and did what needed to be done, never giving up. Which was more than she'd ever been able to say for Sasha.
Izzie had made sure Gabby was going to school, cooked for the kids, read Chloe bedtime stories and made sure they all did their homework. She'd also done what she could to pour life back into Gabby. She'd filled her prescriptions, driven her to therapy, reminded her to eat and sleep, curled up in her bed with ice cream and a movie when Gabby couldn't stop crying. And slowly she'd seen life come back into Gabby's eyes. Gabby had started helping out again; doing the laundry or taking Chloe to the playground. She'd started doing her homework and actually listening to Izzie, albeit with a sigh and an eye roll, when Izzie talked about Gabby going to college.
The summer after freshman year a lot of her old high school friends had been home and it was easy to find someone to hang out with during the bulk of the summer that Casey wasn't home. But in the fall a lot of their friends had left. And Casey had left again too. Izzie's heart still aches when she thinks of saying goodbye to Casey at the airport. Her tear streaked face. The look of confusion and betrayal in her eyes.
It was then that her old GSA friends had become a lifeline. Some of them had gone back to college out of state, sure, but some were still nearby at UConn or Denton. Erica was at UConn and had introduced Izzie to a whole community of queer folks and lesbians that had become a chosen family for her and a soft place to land when the reality of her life got too hard to bear... and when she was heartbroken and lost after losing Casey. Calling it a breakup had never felt adequate to Izzie. It was a loss. A deep, soul sucking, grief inducing loss. The kind of absence that becomes an actual presence. A too-large piece of furniture in the crowded apartment of her mind that she was always squeezing around or banging her shin into or stubbing her toe against. The problem was that Izzie's internal apartment was already so full of things she was trying to ignore.
Avoiding bumping into the large, Casey-sized absence in her life was hard enough without factoring in Elsa. Izzie had assumed that losing Casey meant losing Elsa. It had made her devastation feel that much more complete. After things had ended with Casey she hadn't had the heart to answer any of Elsa's calls or texts asking to talk. She assumed it was just a misguided effort to try and heal the divide between her and Casey. Finally she had texted Elsa late one night, when her losses had stacked up so high they threatened to crush her.
Izzie had written, "Thank you for everything. I will never forget your kindness. Every moment I got to spend with you was a gift I can never repay."
The next thing she knew Elsa was texting from outside her building, asking her to come outside. She had looked at the clock. It was 11:46 pm.
When she went outside, puffy faced and disheveled, Elsa had wrapped her in a big hug and said, with relief, "Ohh, Izzie I'm so glad you're ok," while continuing to squeeze her so tightly she had trouble breathing, "Your text scared me!"
Elsa was wearing pajamas with tennis shoes and no makeup, having clearly gotten out of bed and thrown her shoes and coat on as soon as she got Izzie's text.
"We aren't done, ok?" Elsa had said fiercely, in the light of the street lamp. She put her hands on either side of Izzie's face. "Regardless of what is going on with you and Casey, you and I are not done. Do you understand?"
Izzie had nodded wordlessly and sobbed so hard that she'd had to sit down on the sidewalk, with Elsa's arms wrapped tightly around her.
At first it was weird, swinging by the Gardner house without Casey there... without having Casey's permission to be there. But over time she's getting used to it. She's unconsciously trained her eyes to studiously avoid every framed photo of Casey. She's figured out how to get to and from the upstairs bathroom without accidentally glancing at Casey's door. She even has an autopilot routine for going into the bathroom, looking down at the counter and reaching over to close the door that opens into Casey's room, all without accidentally glimpsing it in the mirror.
Now she often stops by on her way home from track practice to have tea with Elsa or comes over to watch a movie when Doug is working the night shift. She's even started bringing some of her siblings along. There was one memorable occasion where she had brought all three to dinner, thinking Doug would be at work. When she realized he was joining them she had almost choked on her anxiety. But it was fine. Chloe hadn't thrown food and Gabby hadn't rolled her eyes and Doug and Dylan had talked about football. Doug had been as distant as ever, but polite. And if he thought it was strange that he and Elsa had inherited an entire family in the wake of his daughter's breakup with her girlfriend, he didn't say so.
In addition to her queer friends, Elsa's friendship had been a godsend over the past year and a half. Just thinking about all the things Elsa had given her made Izzie's chest swell. Frozen casseroles, items of clothing she'd picked up because they made her think of Izzie, toys and clothes for the kids, gas money. She'd even let Izzie and Gabby sleep over for a week when things with Sasha got so toxic Izzie was afraid their mother would unravel any progress Gabby had made. Izzie had Elsa to thank for helping them find an affordable apartment, and steer clear of others that had problems Izzie never would have noticed. And when they'd moved in Elsa had made Doug change the batteries in the smoke alarms and use his truck to transport the really nice second hand furniture Izzie had gotten from an old Clayton friends' rich parents.
But the greatest gift Elsa will ever give Izzie is her unconditional friendship and support. There have been so many times Izzie has called Elsa or met up with her for coffee to get her advice about her school loans, Gabby's medical care or Dylan's clothing size (because he would not stop getting taller!) and ended up pouring her heart out or laughing at one of Elsa's stories from when she and Doug were first dating.
Elsa is always very careful not to mention Casey by name and Izzie is very careful not to ask. Occasionally when Izzie texts to say she's stopping by Elsa will reply, "Can't today sweetie, the kids are visiting! Want me to give you a call later instead?" or "The kids are here for break but why don't we meet at that cute coffee shop near your apartment this afternoon?"
Izzie knows that "the kids" means Casey. Because when just Sam is home she comes and goes without issue. But she and Elsa don't talk about it. On those occasions that "the kids are home" Izzie furiously fights the urge to drive by the house, just to see if she can catch a glimpse of Casey. She goes for a ruthless, hours-long run. Or she scrolls through her apps and texts her friends-with-benefits, manically looking for someone to fuck. And when her hands thread into the hair of whatever girl's face is buried between her legs she tries, honestly she tries to not let herself think about Casey. Mostly, she fails. Sometimes Izzie wonders what the Gardners tell Casey about her. If they tell her anything at all. But she can't let herself think about it. She has other things to focus on now.
Now Izzie is at the University of Connecticut studying accounting and economics. The in-state tuition is less than her rent after taking into account the track scholarship she got to go there. And a small school loan covers what little her scholarship doesn't. Coach Crowley had been instrumental in helping to smooth over Izzie's year-long gap in her track career. Izzie and Gabby have a small, one bedroom apartment that is halfway between UConn and the community college Gabby attends. It's near a bus stop and a grocery store that they can walk to. Izzie sleeps in the bedroom and Gabby sleeps in the curtained off dining room that she's converted into a bedroom. They also have a car they share. Well really it's Izzie's car but Gabby seems to think it belongs to both of them. At least she helps pay for gas. It's rusty, makes terrifying noises sometimes, rattles all the time and won't go over 60 mph. But it gets the job done. And it's theirs.
Dylan stays over with them a lot now, especially on weekends and Chloe lives with her grandparents part time so Izzie worries about her less. Things are finally a little better. A little easier. Izzie heaves a sigh of relief just thinking about the orderly, clean, quiet apartment. It can be hard to cover the rent sometimes, with her income from tutoring and Gabby's job at a diner. Their grandma has to help them a lot. But Izzie is used to living on a shoestring budget. She knows what bills she can pay late and how late she can be with them. She has for a long time. Occasionally they can't put gas in the car or pay the electric bill but they always survive. They always figure it out. Izzie is good at figuring things out. She's even figured out how to live "after Casey."
"Soooo... when are you gonna, you know, get back out there?" Erica had asked her one night, in the winter of sophomore year.
They were bundled up and drinking cheap beer on the front porch of the old house Erica shared with some college friends. Izzie had smiled and tried to brush it off with some non-committal answer. But Erica, who had been dating her girlfriend for a few months, was persistent.
"Izzie! It's been months," she'd said, shaking Izzie with pretend exasperation.
Then, more gently she added, "I was holding out hope for you guys too, but-"
"I wasn't... doing that," Izzie had interrupted halfheartedly, picking at the label of her bottle.
Erica knew by now not to utter Casey's name. She was friends with Casey, sure. They probably still talked. Izzie tried not to think about what Erica might know that was causing her to try and help Izzie move on.
"I'm just saying, when you're ready there are a lot of girls and non-binary folks who would love to take you out. Or hook up with you. Or both," Erica had giggled.
Izzie had laughed, surprised, "Good to know. What are you, my pimp?"
"Just a friend," Erica had said with a smile, "A friend who wants you to be happy."
"I am happy," she'd said, unconvincingly.
Erica made a skeptical face at her.
"I'm gonna go get another beer," Izzie had said.
She went inside and splashed some water on her face in the bathroom, gazing in the mirror for a long time. She wondered when her own face had started to look so unrecognizable. So foreign. She supposed it would be nice to have an actual human body rubbing up against her as opposed to her own hand or a vibrator. And it was really hard to come on her own when she was trying so hard not to think about Casey. Plus, if there was one thing Izzie needed it was stress relief. Self care. Though the thought of having sex with someone other than Casey made her feel physically ill. But maybe that would go away if she just did what Erica said and "got back out there." It's not like Casey was waiting around anyway, she thought bleakly, swallowing the lump in her throat.
Back outside she'd pulled Erica aside.
She'd fought down a wave of panic, plastered on a smile and said, "Ok, fine!"
Erica's face lit up.
Izzie had rushed to add, "No relationships. Just casual stuff. But... Ok. I'm ready. Whaddya got?"
Erica had been taken aback for a moment.
"No relationships? You sure?"
Izzie had gone home with someone that night. Of course she had accidentally pictured Casey's face, and almost said her name, when she came. And she cried afterward. But otherwise... it had been ok. And after that it was easy. Especially once she figured out the apps. It works for her. No emotions. No attachments. Just sex. Of course there are plenty of people who want attachments with her. But she is always very clear about what she can offer, and what she can't. After all, she isn't relationship material. That has been made clear. She doesn't have time for anything serious anyway. She's too busy working toward her goals.
Her plan has changed over the years. It had to. She will become rich and successful of course, like she's always planned. But now, as she becomes financially stable, she is determined to take her whole family with her. The kids will go to college, she tells herself. Her grandma will be able to retire. And someday she will have a savings account and when she needs to buy gas or clothes or tampons she won't even think about whether she can afford it, she'll just do it.
Izzie stares at the clock. 11:55. Class will be over in the next five minutes which means her professor will be wrapping up in fifteen. Izzie will beeline her way up to the front to try and talk to him before he bumbles off to his next class, flustered and running late. She needs to line up a paid internship for this summer but isn't quite sure what firms to approach, when to approach them, if she will need references and how good her chances are. She's been buttering up all of her professors, to see if anyone has a connection that can improve her odds. This is not the time to be shy. And if this professor isn't able to talk to her today maybe she'll see if she can flag down the cute girl with the chin-length bob in the second row that she's been exchanging glances with for a couple weeks. Izzie will see if the girl... Kayla, she thinks her name is... she'll see if Kayla wants to come over and "study together" tonight.