#my sister picked it for me from my ginormous list of options

[dksartz]

i spent way too long picking a hebrew name for tony just for this jewish tony wearing a kippah doodle ^^’ but he is cute and i like the name ^^

[icanneverbesatisfied]

Burned- Part Three(Marliza Fic)

Note: I love you if you’ve stuck around this far. You’re great.

Word Count: 5285(why am i like this)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, alcohol, and being a terrible sister

Tags: @secretschuylersister @butlinislin @living-in-a-whale @linmanuclmiranda @sunriseovertheroomwhereithappens @maybe-mikala @ham4fan-fiction @steiiarrs

“But where exactly do we look?” I asked, propping my elbows on my knees.

“Anywhere. Eliza is… unusual, and,” Peggy stopped, as if she was searching for a word. The smirk never left her face. “I’m not sure if there’s a word for it.”

“Go on,” I urged her, and she bit her lip.

“Almost none of her clues have seemed to link up until you look at them side-by-side, or until you find the very last of her clues.”

“Enigmatic,” I said, and Peggy nodded gratefully.

“But, none of her clues quite made sense when you looked at them apart. She jumped from one extreme to another without explanation until they were put together in full.”

“Interesting,” I remarked. “Where does she usually put clues?”

“Anywhere and everywhere,” Peggy answered, raising her eyebrows. Her eyes were glittering intelligently, lighting their brown and crystallizing the colour.

“Can we start in her room?”

Peggy tensed, the corners of her mouth pulling down. “Likely not.”

“What?” I asked. “I’m sure Eliza wouldn’t mind at this point-”

“It’s not that,” Peggy interjected. “My lovely father has locked her room and flushed the key down the toilet.”

“What about her window?” Peggy stopped, scrunching her eyebrows together.

“I didn’t consider that,” Peggy said. “I haven’t climbed that tree since Angelica fell out of it.”

“That was scary– for all of us.” It had been. Even though I had been in my room, Eliza’s shouts had drifted through my open window. Angelica was eleven, Eliza was two weeks away from turning ten, and Peggy had still been eight. They had been too high in the tree, and a branch had snapped. Angelica lost her footing, and plummeted to the ground. When she didn’t get up, Eliza jumped out of the tree– something that should’ve broken her leg or ankle, but didn’t– and sprinted to get their parents.

“Mom was still alive when it happened. I remember her sobbing,” Peggy said offhandedly. “Dad was more calm about it– he is a doctor, so that seemed to kick in. Mom, she stayed at home to raise us, so one of her girls being hurt like that– she didn’t have any special training.” I could vaguely remember Catherine crying, Eliza and Peggy clinging to her.

“They said that Angelica shouldn’t’ve lived. They said she should’ve died from the impact, but she didn’t,” Peggy said, and I knew by the set in her jaw that she was ready to move on from the subject.

“We should get to your house and get into Eliza’s room,” I suggested, standing up and pushing my hair away from my face. “Before your dad gets home.” Peggy nodded, getting up from the chair.

We walked down the stairs, and I scribbled a quick note on a loose piece of paper to tell my parents that I was going to Peggy’s. I may not have been sharing the whole story, but it was enough of a truth to keep them from being suspicious.

We walked across the street, and walked up to the tree. Peggy took a deep breath, before stepping onto it first. I followed after her as soon as she was high enough, reusing her foot and handholds. Soon enough, we had pulled ourselves onto the blue shingled roof, and walked carefully across it.

She pushed at the window, and it, mercifully, opened fluidly. She pulled herself in, and I followed, looking around Eliza’s room.

The walls were painted a pretty blue, with pictures hanging on the walls and pinned to a cork board. Her bed was pushed against one wall, a dresser perpendicular to it. Parallel to the bed, a heavy desk was set against the wall with a matching chair, a colourful cushion resting on it. Pinned to the wall above the desk was a huge map of the United States, next to it a map of New York. Pins were pushed into both maps, in two different colours.

“I don’t remember either of these maps being here,” Peggy remarked, walking towards the desk and running her fingertips over it. “But I haven’t been in here in weeks.”

“The tacks are two different colours– green and red,” I pointed out. Peggy looked at it again.

“Wait,” she said. She climbed on top of the desk, crouching down. “There’s a pin in Honolulu– we went there as a family when Eliza was seven. Oh, and another in Los Angeles. That was two years ago.” Peggy looked over the map again. “Little Rock. Indianapolis. Houston. These are all places that we’ve visited, except,” Peggy ran her fingers over the map. “Ooh, I’ve never been to Chesapeake Bay, but Eliza has. It’s marked with a green tack.”

“So, places she’s visited are green, places she hasn’t are red,” I inferred. “And since the rest of the map isn’t covered in red tacks, we have to assume that the red pins are marking places she wants to visit.”

Peggy pointed at me, smiling approvingly. “Good one, you have to be right.” She moved on, looking over the map of New York.

“Yeah, Manhattan, Brooklyn. These pins are skinnier, so it’s probably for precise places. Like the Statue of Liberty, it’s marked with a green pin. We’ve been there, all of us.”

I look back over the New York map, and my eyes caught on something. “Pegs, this tack is yellow.” She looked up, immediately spotting the yellow pin.

“I… don’t know where that is,” she said, and looked at it again. “There’s not even a name of the town or tourist trap that’s pinned there.”

I looked at it again, looking at the places around it. Suddenly, it clicked. “That’s the campground,” I announced, and Peggy turned to me.

“You mean the one that’s no longer in commission?” Peggy asked, looking me in the face. “The one you two burned those letters at?”

“Yeah, see where it’s at?” Peggy looked again, and realization dawned on her face.

“There’s something there. Has to be.” Peggy looked me in the eye, and cracked a ginormous smile. She pulled me into a hug, wrapping her arms snugly around my neck. “I’m so glad you agreed to trust me, I just want my sister back,” she whispered, before pulling away and hopping off of Eliza’s desk.

“How soon can we go to the campgrounds?” She asked, raising her eyebrows and looking at me intently.

“I can’t go during a school night,” I said, and Peggy frowned.

“What about a school day?” Peggy suggested, a cunning smirk slowly replacing the frown.

“Wouldn’t we be, y'know, in school?”

“Not if we skip. I’ve done it before,” she said plainly. “Come on, it won’t kill you.” I weighed the options in my head, making a mental list of pros and cons as Peggy gave me her best puppy eyes.

“Okay, yeah. Let me talk to Sarah and Quinn about it, they’ll want to come.”

“I’ll make a rebel out of you yet, Lewis.” Peggy said.

I called Sarah, and she picked up almost immediately. “We’re skipping school tomorrow,” I said.

“Who’s we’re?”

“You, me, Peggy-”

“Okay,” Sarah agreed. “I’ll tell Quinn.”

“You only agreed because of Peggy, didn’t you?”

“Absolutely,” I could hear the smirk in her voice, and I chuckled.

“Alright, be sure to let Quinn know. Tell her it has to do with Eliza.”

Sarah didn’t reply for a second, then she said, “I want you to know, that I nodded like you could see me.” And hung up.

I had no clue how I was going to get out of going to school. I decided that it was probably best to convince my mom that I was at school instead of at the campgrounds.

She dropped me off, and I immediately spotted Peggy’s car parked in the parking lot. It look like Peggy was still in it, and I walked over, knocking on the window.

“Get in, we have to pick up Sarah and Quinn,” she said, after rolling the window down. I opened the door, and sat down in the passenger seat.

“Where are they?” I asked, buckling my seatbelt before Peggy drove off.

“They’re at Quinn’s house. They decided to officially get excused from school, instead of going the route you and I did,” she said, and licked her lips. “I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Is Sarah a good person?” She asked, hesitation in her tone as she stared at the road.

“Can you clarify your meaning?” I asked, scrunching my eyebrows together.

“I mean exactly what I asked. Is she a good person?”

“She’s a bit… different, but she’s definitely a good person,” I answered. “Why?”

“She sort of asked me out,” Peggy answered. “And I told her I’d think about it ‘cause I haven’t got a clue if she’s some sort of axe murderer.”

“I promise she’s not an axe murderer.”

“That’s relieving.” Peggy pulled up in front of Quinn’s house, and we walked in.

“Quinn, we’re here!” She emerged from the living room, Sarah directly behind her.

“Hi, Peggy,” Sarah said, waving sheepishly. She blushed a furious shade of red when Peggy waved back, smiling brightly at her.

“Okay, we have to get to the camp grounds and scour the area for clues. I’ll drive,” I said, and Peggy tossed me the keys. Quinn sat in the passenger seat, leaving Sarah and Peggy to sit together in the back.

Fifteen minutes into the drive, Peggy announced that she was exhausted. “I spent all night looking at her maps on the walls, I only got a few hours of sleep.”

“Take a nap,” I suggested. “It’s your car.”

Peggy looked at Sarah, “do you mind?” She asked, tilting her forehead towards her.

“Not at all.” Peggy rested her head on Sarah’s shoulder, taking her glasses off and closing her eyes. Not long after, Sarah’s eyes fluttered shut and she drifted off, her cheek resting against the top of Peggy’s head.

I noticed Quinn’s eyebrows fly up in my peripheral vision, and had to suppress a laugh at her reaction. “How did that even happen?”

“Beyond my limited knowledge,” I answered. We spent the rest of the ride in silence, attempting to let Sarah and Peggy sleep peacefully. We pulled up to the campgrounds, and I stopped the car, taking the keys out of the ignition. We turned to look back at Sarah and Peggy. They were in much the same position as the had been, Peggy’s head resting on Sarah’s shoulder, Sarah leaning against her ever so slightly.

“They look very cute,” I pointed out, and Quinn nodded. “I don’t want to wake them up.”

“I don’t want to wake them, either.”

“Not it,” I whispered, and Quinn groaned. She reached back, hitting Sarah on her knee, and she startled awake.

“Whosawha?” Sarah muttered intelligently, and blinked. “Why did you wake me up?” She asked, giving us an accusatory glance.

“Because we’re at the campgrounds. Get Peggy up,” I said, turning around and opening the door, Quinn mirroring my movements. Eventually, Peggy and Sarah emerged from the car, Peggy’s glasses back on her face.

“What’re we looking for, exactly?” Sarah asked, stretching the sleep out of her limbs.

“Anything that wouldn’t belong in a campground,” Peggy answered, before scrunching up her face. “And maybe even stuff that would be found in a campground. Just, anything that seems interesting.”

“Pair off, just in case we come in contact with danger?” I suggested, winking at Quinn.

“Absolutely,” Quinn agreed. “I’ll go with Maria.” She looped her arm through mine, and we walked towards the boys cabins.

“D’you think there’s really anything here?” Quinn asked, as we walked into the first of the three cabins. Old bunk beds lined the walls, with moth-bitten blue and white pinstriped blankets and water stained pillows. A wooden dresser was pushed against the wall across from the door, and it was practically falling apart.

“Oh, I really don’t want to touch anything in here,” Quinn announced, attempting to back out before I stopped her.

“We have to look,” I said, and took a few steps forward. I peeled back the blankets on the first bunk bed, revealing the mattress, equally as water stained as the pillow. There was nothing worthwhile, and I moved on. Quinn, after gathering her wits, started on the other side of the room, peeling back the blankets and scanning the yellowed mattress.

“There’s nothing in here, Maria,” Quinn said, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Let’s go somewhere that smells less like mold.”

“Lemme check the dresser.” I pulled open the top drawer, completely empty, albeit the slightest bit moldy. The next drawer was the same, and the bottom drawer contained a dead rat.

“Dude, that is gross,” Quinn said, cringing. “Close the goddamn drawer before I vomit all over the corpse of that unfortunate rodent.” I closed the drawer, and we moved onto the next cabin. Everything was nearly identical in all of the cabins, safe for the varying degrees of water damage.

We walked to the girls side of the camp, and found Peggy and Sarah in the second cabin. “We haven’t checked the third, yet,” Peggy said, while pulling back the pink blankets on a disgusting looking mattress. “You can go look, keep yourselves busy.” We left Peggy and Sarah alone, moving onto the final cabin.

We pushed open the door, and walking in I immediately noticed a CD propped on a pillow. I walked forward, grabbing it and turning it over to look at the back.

“Goodbye Marie,” Quinn read aloud. The song title was circled in sharpie haphazardly, nearly catching the top half of the song title beneath it. “Almost sounds like Maria.”

“And that’s Eliza’s bunk,” I pointed out, nodding towards the e scratched into the wall crookedly,

“It’s definitely her doing,” Quinn agreed.

“Let’s go show the lovebirds,” I said.

“Hey, Peggy has not accepted yet,” Quinn pointed out, and I chuckled.

“But she will,” I sing-songed, and she nodded. We walked back into the cabin that Sarah and Peggy had been in.

“Look at what we found,” I announced, and Peggy turned to face me. She caught sight of the CD case in my hand, and came towards me, grabbing it.

“Goodbye Marie,” Peggy read aloud. “Do you know this song?” She asked, turning to me with a quizzical expression on her face.

“I know it,” Sarah said. “By Kenny Rogers. It’s something along the lines of leaving a woman he was with for three weeks, but he fell in love with her,” Sarah explained, all of us with our mouths slightly open. “Ya know, it was fun Marie - I gotta run Marie that’s what it was about.”

“You are absolutely amazing,” Peggy said, placing a kiss on her cheek, and Sarah began to blush furiously.

“No,” she assured. “My parents just like strange music.”

“Is there anything specific in the song, Sarah?” Quinn asked.

“Well, the song ends by saying I’ll be back in Houston but-”

“She could be in Houston,” I said, a mix of giddiness and victory turning in my stomach.

“No,” Peggy said. “The one similar thing about Eliza’s disappearances is that they have always been to revolutionary war sites, or to places that have to do with that timeframe. Houston isn’t one of those.”

“This isn’t the final clue, then,” Quinn pointed out the obvious, but I knew it was her need to think out loud. “Okay, we’re going to go back to Peggy’s, sit in Eliza’s room, listen to this song, and study her maps.”

No one was going to argue with Quinn’s plan, and so I said, “Let’s do this.”

We scrambled in through Eliza’s window again, Peggy muttering apologies as she helped each of us through it after climbing in herself.

“So this is the famous map,” Quinn said, looking at the map of the US. “Eliza is so meticulous, it’s amazing.”

“Yeah,” Peggy agreed. “Maria and I deduced that green means already been there, and red means an intention to go there.”

“There’s no red pin on Houston,” Quinn said, confirming Peggy’s remark about Eliza not being in Houston.

“Write down all the places that have red pins on them,” Sarah suggested. “Maria, play that damn song.”

I walked over to Eliza’s laptop. “Would Eliza care if I used it?” Peggy shook her head, and I opened her laptop. Luckily, it didn’t ask for a password and I searched the song online.

I pulled up a recording, and pressed play. Kenny Rogers voice flooded the room, and Sarah mumbled along with the words quietly. After a few minutes, the song concluded.

“What lyrics match up to you and Eliza’s night?” Sarah asked.

“Well, saying Goodbye Maria to me, like the song title. Out the window there’s a lonesome highway callin’ me, Eliza left, so that’s a bit similar,” I stopped, biting my lip. “It was fun Marie - I gotta run Marie again, very similar.” No one replied, as if they were expecting more. “And that’s about it.”

“Interesting,” Peggy said, before turning back to the paper she had been writing on with Quinn.

“Check which of these are revolutionary war sites, or had ties with the founding fathers.”

“Well, I know that Yorktown is, I think Trenton is, that’s in New Jersey,” Quinn said, tapping the pencil against her chin. She began to pace around the room while she spoke, and Peggy moved to sit on Eliza’s bed with Sarah.

“Weehawken– hasn’t she already been there?” Peggy nodded, and Quinn bit her lip and suppressed a groan. “Fort Constitution, New Hampshire. Mount Vernon, of course-”

“What’s Mount Vernon?” Sarah asked, crinkling her nose.

“George Washington’s house, love,” Peggy answered, and Sarah nodded.

“Then we have… Boston, that one is no surprise. Philadelphia– again, no surprise.”

“You know what, this is only making our chances of finding her seem smaller,” I pointed out, and Peggy sighed, leaning her head on Sarah’s shoulder.

“I agree, Maria,” Peggy said. “I miss her, she needs to come home.”

“We all miss her,” Sarah said, throwing an arm around Peggy’s shoulder casually.

“She’s the only of my sisters that I’d trust anymore, Angelica hurt Eliza in a way that I never thought possible for her.” As Peggy spoke, her voice took on an edged tone, like a person very close to crying that instead chose to turn the sadness and anger into purpose; and Peggy had found it. “I think if I see Angelica again, I may lose it.”

“You haven’t seen her?”

“Since before all of this,” she said. “The last I saw her was prom– of course, Angelica had already graduated so she wasn’t going, but she wanted to see Eliza and I.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, picking at my fingernails.

“Don’t be. Not like you knew, I sure didn’t,” she said, copying Eliza’s exact words when I had told her the same thing just a few nights ago. “Angelica seemed too… perfect to do that.” There it was again– the idea that Angelica was too perfect to wrong anyone, and she would never do this to her sister and that had been the very downfall that had made Eliza disappear.

“Oh, crap,” Peggy suddenly said, pushing her palms into her eyes. “I have a party to go to tonight.”

“Ooh, cool kid parties. A whole other world,” Quinn said, her lack of interest being very obviously shown.

“I promised I’d go, and maybe someone there will have an idea about Eliza,” Peggy muttered. “But, I still want to stay in and stare at this map until something makes sense.”

“That’s not good for you,” I pointed out, even though I wanted to do it as much as her. Maybe even more. “We’re going to this party. Maybe it’ll help us get an idea of Eliza.” It was hard to imagine her as everyone else saw her– a girl that went to parties and drank unnamed alcohols and kissed her boyfriend in a secluded corner. It was equally as difficult to imagine her having had this all ripped away from her by her sister, having her whole high-school identity dissolved so easily.

“I’ll go,” Sarah said, and we turned to look at Quinn. Finally, she noticed us looking at her, and she gave us a half-quizzical, half-sarcastic look, and said, “what?”

“You’re going to a party with us,” Peggy said, raising her eyebrows. “It’s been unanimously decided.”

“Unanimously means that all of us decided,” Quinn argued.

“But you’re going to accept in just a minute,” Peggy said. “Because you have never really been to a party and you’re super curious about it.”

Quinn was quiet for a very long time, before saying, “goddammit, she’s right.”

“This is the place?” I asked, as Peggy pulled into a long driveway, which lead to a huge house, likely lived in by a resident of cool kid land.

“Yeah,” Peggy replied. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, I know that staring at those maps all night isn’t good. But being here just feels wrong.”

“I know,” Sarah answered. “We only need to be there for a few minutes.”

Peggy nodded, pulling her curls out of her face. “Let’s do this.” She pushed open her car door, and we followed her up to the front door of the house, walking in.

“What do people usually do at parties?” Sarah asked.

“They drink several exotically named alcohols, and make out in corners,” Peggy answered, rolling her eyes. “Eliza hates these parties.”

“Really?”

“Yep. She only even showed up ‘cause it was Alexander’s scene,” Peggy said, picking up beers and passing them to us. “These will help you blend in better.”

“You mentioned making out in corners earlier?” Sarah brought up, and Peggy snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Maybe if you’re lucky,” Peggy replied, winking at her.

“That’s disgusting. I’m gonna go find the bathroom,” Quinn said, and grabbed Sarah’s wrist, yanking her along.

“Guess it’s just you and I,” I said, setting the beer down. “I’m deciding to remain the smart sober friend that keeps the less-smart drunk friends from doing dumb things.”

“But- oh hell no,” Peggy said, cutting herself off. I followed her line of sight, spotting Angelica and Alexander in the corner, kissing with such a fervor that it was surprising they weren’t already naked. We watched for what felt like too long of a moment as Alexander’s hands slid up her shirt, before Peggy let out a small noise of disgust. She set her drink down.

“Angelica!” She shouted, and Alexander broke away from her. He caught sight of the look on Peggy’s face, a pure fury solidified in her eyes, and ran off.

“Peggy…”

“How could you, Angelica?” Peggy asked, and I knew she wasn’t waiting for an answer. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to Eliza? To me? You hurt my sister, and you hurt her bad.”

“I-”

“Dont,” Peggy’s eyes glittered dangerously, and Angelica set her jaw. “Do you want to know what I did when I found out what you’d done? I got up to check on Eliza and make sure she was alright, and you know what happened? I walked into her room, and she was gone.” Peggy’s voice cracked, and she stopped for a moment. “I ran through the whole house, searching for her, before realizing that she had disappeared, and I knew that it was because of you!”

“Just listen to me!”

“What explanation could you possibly have to justify what you’ve done?”

“I loved him first, Peggy,” she said, and Peggy’s face contorted into a look that was pure disgust, but Angelica continued. “I told myself that I would step back, and let Eliza have him, but then I couldn’t anymore.”

“Angelica, if you think I would forgive after you’ve said that, then you’re so pathetically wrong,” Peggy said. “I love my sister more than anything in this life-”

“I’m your sister, too.”

“No,” Peggy said, shaking her head. “Put our sisterhood aside, I’m standing at her side. You can never be satisfied.” Peggy took a deep breath. “God I hope you’re satisfied.” She turned away from Angelica, her eyes glittering with unshed tears and hurried off, covering her mouth.

“Maria,” Angelica began. “You understand, don’t you?”

“No, not really,” I said back. “I really, really, really don’t understand how someone could first betray one sister, then look the other in the eye and say that what you’ve done is justified. So yeah, I really don’t understand.” I walked off after Peggy, hoping to find her before anyone else did.

I finally found her in a closet in the basement, due to opening it under the assumption it was a bathroom.

“You alright?” I asked, toeing the edge of her shoe.

“No,” Peggy answered. “Does it seem like I’m alright?” I walked into the closet, sitting down and crossing my legs together.

“Not really.”

“I mean, it was one thing to hear about Angelica doing all this. It was another thing to see it.” Peggy shook her head. “Angelica is lucky I didn’t punch her in the face.”

“You should have,” I said, before I could stop myself. Peggy laughed.

“I wanted to, but I figured it’d be best to take the high ground.”

“You did great. That was a verbal bitch-slap of epic proportions,” I complimented, and she laughed again.

“C’mon, let’s get out of this closet, it smells like mothballs.”

“Yeah, and you want some time to make out with Sarah in a corner.”

“Shut up,” Peggy replied intelligently.

“Where even are they?” I asked, looking around the party for any sign of Quinn and Sarah.

“Right there, in the corner.”

I snorted. “The perfect setting for you and Sarah.” Peggy ignored me as we walked towards them. They both had apparently abandoned their beers, trading them out for Pepsi’s.

“Peggy, I heard about what you said to Angelica,” Quinn began, and Peggy ignored her altogether, walking straight towards Sarah. She pushed Sarah against the wall, pressing her mouth to Sarah’s as Quinn’s jaw dropped.

“No way,” Quinn whispered, hitting my arm as Sarah tangled her fingers into Peggy’s hair. “Whatishappening?”

“I’m not totally sure,” I whispered back. “Wanna go wait in the car?”

“Yeah that’s probably a good idea,” Quinn agreed, and practically pulled me out to the car.

“That was strange,” I remarked, sitting in the backseat with Quinn. “Like, on a scale of one to ten, that was an eleven.”

Quinn shook her head, taking a sip of her Pepsi. “It was a fourteen.”

“Honestly, we should have been expecting it. We watched them flirt for hours on end and it never clicked.”

“We’re such virgins that we can’t even sense sexual tension.” I snorted, and Quinn took another sip from her Pepsi. “The temptation to leave them there is very strong.”

“But we’re good friends. Good friends wouldn’t do that,” I pointed out, and Quinn shrugged. “Peggy has the keys, anyway.”

“And it’s what, eleven?” Quinn asked, and I checked the time on my phone.

“11:22”

“I’m going to sleep.” She stretched out, throwing her legs over my lap. I found a blanket that was shoved under the seat, and threw it over the both of us.

“Goodnight,” I muttered.

“Likewise,” Quinn responded. I leaned my head against the cool window, closing my eyes. Not even ten minutes later, the car doors opened, Peggy and Sarah sitting down.

“Well, well, well,” Quinn said, not even bothering to sit up or open her eyes. “What have we here?”

“Be nice to them,” I urged, when neither Peggy or Sarah replied. I opened my eyes, long enough to see that both of them were blushing a furious shade of red, and Peggy had dark bruises littering her neck and collarbone. “Have fun covering those up tomorrow, Pegs.”

“Shut up,” she mumbled, before turning the car on and backing out of the long driveway. I leaned my cheek against the cool window again, and I closed my eyes, the movement of the car lolling me to sleep.

I made it back into my house, and up to my room. I didn’t even bother with a shower, choosing instead to change from jeans into fuzzy pajama pants, and I crawled into bed. It was amazing how much tonight contrasted from the night with Eliza. That was arguably the latest I had ever stayed up, and I never never felt so not-tired than I had with her. But, now here I was, at 11:41 at night, and I was so exhausted that my whole body felt weighted down.

I closed my eyes, and sleep overtook me easily.

The days went by in a slow, repetitive pattern like the beating of a bass drum keeping tempo. I spent my free time in Eliza’s room with Peggy, studying her map and listening to Goodbye Marie at a volume that would attract Mr Schuyler to the room.

Graduation began to creep closer, and finals were hitting us hard. Quinn reinstated her mandatory locking-myself-in-my-room-to-study technique, and we heard from her less and less until finals had passed and we were finally free.

On the morning of graduation, I walked downstairs in my red, knee-length dress that I had went with Sarah, Quinn, and Peggy to pick out.

“We’re so proud of you, honey,” my mom said, fiddling with something behind her back. “And since you won’t be going to college straight out of high school, we figured the best we could do was help you with transportation.” My face scrunched up. Transportation left two options: either mom was driving me everyday, or…

“We got you a car, ‘Ria,” my dad said, and mom handed me the box from behind her back.

“No way,” I breathed out. I pulled the top off the box, and looked at the key.

“It’s a used car, but we figured you would find it useful,” he explained, and I pulled them both into a grateful hug.

“Let me help you get any of your things out of my car,” mom offered. “Since you’re just the slightest bit disorganized.” I nodded, and she walked me outside. I caught sight of my new car, an old-model Buick painted a silvery-white colour, and followed mom to her car.

I pulled open the backseat, and checked throughout it. I grabbed a few miscellaneous things, and reached my hand under the seat to make sure there was nothing left. I felt something soft, and grabbed it, pulling it out from its spot wedged under the seat. It was a black hoodie, and smelled of flowers and vanilla; Eliza.

I didn’t even notice that she had ditched her hoodie and left it in the car, and I felt a conglomeration of feelings growing in my stomach.

I unbunched the hoodie, shaking it out. Nothing fell out, and I reached my hand inside the first pocket; nothing. The second pocket was my last hope, and I reached in; my fingers closed around a piece of paper, and I could almost scream.

The paper was folded haphazardly, the edges unaligned and the paper crumbled, and I could see the indented marks from the point of a pen, the ink showing through in small glimpses.

I dropped the hoodie, and unfolded the paper with shaking hands. It was a printout of the lyrics of Goodbye Marie, but only this had writing on it.

Notes had been made, words crossed out and changed. My heart rate sped up, and I chewed at my lipstick covered lips. At the bottom of the paper, the word Houston(this time tomorrow, I’ll be back in Houston)had been crossed out, and replaced with one word:

Monticello.

[smackit17-blog]

Of course in Los Angeles everything is based on driving. Even the killings.

In my last post, I talked about my adventures in couch surfing. More specifically, staying with my dear friend, her two kids and my newest frenemy, her 10 month old white lab, Kota. In addition to imposing upon her home, I arrived carless which in LA renders you completely dependent and helpless. 

Before you judge me to harshly and chalk me up to a mooch through and through, I had no idea how this test drive in LA (pun fully intended) was going to play out and figured I’d need to see what happened before committing to anything, even car rental. Also, I had asked my friend before arriving about immediately renting a car and her strong recommendation was to wait and see.

So as I bounced around between a couple of AirBnBs and a couple days at a friend’s (who subsequently broke up with me after my stay - more on that in another post) I made my way around via Uber. Mostly local west side trips, and I was feeling good about the decision as Uber is the one thing that is significantly cheaper here in LA vs NYC. Where this decision turned was last Wednesday when my friend picked me up to begin my extended stay in Bel Air. And then I started my new job on Thursday (the next day) which was located back in Santa Monica.

My friend lives in a beautiful gated community in lovely Bel Air. So lovely, I now reside mere houses from Kim K and Kayne, Freddy Prince Jr and Sarah Michelle Gellar and most interestingly the beleaguered Kathy Griffin. But with the gate comes some serious security, i.e. you cannot get through the gates unless you are on the list. So me being without a car meant in addition to all the other pain in the ass aspects of my presence my friend now had to alert the front gate every time an Uber came for me. 

Which brings me to lesson 1 in this post - A caged bird doesn’t actually sing. Unlike NYC there is almost no set up in LA where you can walk for simple errands like running for toothpaste at Walgreens or picking up a salad for dinner. You have to drive. And Uber’ing for every little thing not only starts to add up financially, it starts to take a toll emotionally -the feeling of dependence and gluttony to be lining the evil Uber company’s pockets and dropping $5-10 at minimum every couple hours. To add to the festivities, the AT&T cell service is spotty to non existent in wide swaths of LA geographies, so there are times when trying to get an Uber is not possible, unless you happen to be near a store with wifi that will allow you to use it. 

And then there’s the fact that I don’t know many people in LA, and the ones I know are sprinkled throughout the city, and like most Angelenos don’t like to travel outside of their neighborhood, or have been too busy to see me. I’m not trying to lay a guilt trip on anyone here. I realize that just because I am here, doesn’t mean anyone’s life stops to accommodate me and be my security blanket. Part of the next 3 months is to see if I can sort myself out here in a way where I can have a happy life and that means, making some friends and finding my way around and all that that entails. And let’s be honest, I’ve been in NYC for more than 20 years so you just cant compare being thrown into a brand new giant city. But its isolating and lonely as fuck. And for me, that’s never good.

So when I am feeling blue, a healthy self-medicator is exercise and outdoor activities. One of the big draws of SoCal as it so happens. However to go on these hikes and bike rides, you have to drive to the start point. I know ironic. Uber’ing to hike by yourself and risking poor cell reception and potentially being stranded - not appealing. So as my first weekend in Bel Air arrived, I started planting the seeds with my friend about hiking. The same friend who is run ragged as a single mom with two kids and battling an extended flu. Yeah, I know. But, I mean I’m desperate, and apparently also totally an ass. She gamely said she’d be down but as the weekend progressed it became clear it wasn’t happening. I felt pathetic that I had no friends to do anything with, and pathetic for being so helpless and stuck. And I felt annoying and embarrased. And then I started to feel like a prisoner. A prisoner in Bel Air. Pretty nice prison, but a bit of a caged animal feeling nonetheless.

Sunday morning arrived and I asked about food delivery in this city. I was told, sure yes and so I ordered for my friend, her sister (also staying there - more on that in another post) and myself. Only to have the delivery service promptly cancel. Just a sorry we’re too busy email. WTF! You’re too busy?! At this point I knew a meltdown was imminent. I also knew a meltdown wasn’t an option, given my circumstances. 

My friend’s sister seemed to sense the level of my distress and offered to take me to Whole Foods. I’m sure the level of gratitude I displayed was unnerving, but I truly felt it. I immediately went to get a Green & Glowing smoothie for myself and my friend. Surely that would put me back in the game. I got a few other staples for the day in case I would be housebound when I returned. So I put the smoothies in a carrier and walked out to the parking lot with my bag of food in one hand and the smoothie carrier in the other. And wouldn’t you know it, I dropped the smoothies. As I watched the contents ooze across 3 parking spots, I contemplated dropping to the ground and licking them up. I mean how much lower could I go?

Which brings me to lesson 2 - Don’t underestimate small acts of kindness. I went back to the counter and by the grace of god the same smoothie maker was at the register. I explained my woeful tale  and not only did she make me two new smoothies free of charge. she upsized them and walked me out to the parking lot to make sure I would make it. I mean...by the grace of god my friends I had a sign. LA didn’t hate me, I just needed to get a fucking car.

Now before concluding, there is a story within this story to share. The last time I was in a new city requiring a car was when I spent one year to the day in Richmond Virginia. At that time I couldn’t have been more stoked to have a car! A car was freedom from the shackles of the vile NYC subway system and smelly hot cabs. A car was road trips every weekend. And I got myself the dream car of every 60 year old man. A big white Mercedes that I dubbed the “white princess” and my co-worker dubbed “million $ listing” proclaiming I looked like a real estate agent in my big white sedan. Whatever, the car was awesome. So awesome it practically drove itself. Let me give you an example. If I wasn’t staying within my lanes it would urge me to pull over and get a cup of coffee, and beep insistently when I was too close to another car.

And I needed all the help the car had to offer. I had chosen the extra special tires to go with the car, i.e. most expensive $ could buy. And parallel parking by braille cost me about 6 popped tires in the span of the year. Another time the car couldn’t save me from myself was when i was driving on 95 South and went flowing over a ginormous pot hole at 85MPH not only popping the tire but damaging the wheel. Miraculously this occurred next to a construction site and I was able to get two of the site workers to put on my spare and drive the remainder of 95 at 25MPH. enough to get home. 

Which brings me to lesson 3 - Learn from your past. Don’t be imprisoned by your past. And I have a history of being distracted behind the wheel. One such event occurred a few months into my move. I was at a stoplight texting. YES you can do that at a red light in VA! I’m not the devil. Anyway I noticed out of the periphery of my eye that the light turned green. So as I looked up I simultaneously hit the gas petal. This white princess had serious pick up and between the time I had looked down and the light turned green, a motorcyclist had pulled in front of me. My led foot caused my car to bang right into him. Thankfully he jumped off and away from his bike at my first bang, because instead of hitting the break at that point, I panicked and hit the gas. The White Princess crushed his motorcycle like a bug. And then she was in the shop about 8 weeks of my single year in VA.

So this combined with a spotty track record from the get go of driving, nervousness of freeway driving, and poor night vision, was all playing into my insecurities around driving myself around LA. But the pros - the freedom, the chance to not feel like a prisoner and the biggest burden in the world, was putting me over the edge...

Which brings me to the final lesson of this post - Movies can have morals. The capper came at the conclusion of the weekend when my friend and I went to see Wonder Woman. The movie could carry 2-3 posts in an of itself, but the net net as it pertains to driving is that this woman was a fearless warrior and inspiration. And if she could save the world from Ares and leave her flawless island and mother to do it and never look back, then god dammit I would drive myself around LA. So Monday morning I marched into HR and proclaimed that I would accept their generous offer to use the agency car for a few weeks and swiftly ended my carless status.

And just to bing this back to what matters most is the simple fact that I have NO EXCUSES to not go to every ass finding class LA has to offer because I can now drive myself there anytime day or night :)