Chapter Text
February 5th, 2014 72 days left
Andie Bell was good at pretending. She'd trained her whole life. Everything you do has to be calculated or you'll make a mistake. It was a skill that had to come back into practice now as she practiced lines for the spring play. Partly, to play Juliet Capulet, the proper send-off for her high school theater career. Partly, to pretend that she hadn't spent last week stalking her father and a girl that was practically her age. It's easier to play a part in a life that's fiction than to experience a world that constantly strangles you.
"She speaks: O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art as glorious to this night, being o'er my head. As is a winged messenger of heaven unto the white-upturned wondering eyes of mortals that fall back to gaze on him when he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds
and sails," his face finally broke free from the grandeur as he erupted into laughter. "I'm sorry Ands but you can't actually expect me to read that seriously. Sails upon the bosom of air?"
"It's not Shakespeare's fault that your mind has been corrupted by the horrors of modern world," she matched his previous grandeur, pulling herself across his bed towards him.
"Oh of course. It was Nietzsche who said 'to live is to suffer' and all of that suffering has obviously caused my brain to rot," Sal raised his eyebrows and exaggerated his words as he pulled her closer.
"You can say all the fancy quotes and be all smart, but I'm the one who will have some kid laughing at my plays one day," her lips met his as soon as the words had left. He tasted like the future. They were too young to be thinking of the future, but that was what Andie had to keep her mind on. The future. Her escape from the endless present.
If Sal would stick along past the fall when he went to Yale, and she went to wherever she could stand a chance, preferably albertus magnus or southern connecticut, they'd be happy. She knew it was impossible to get into college with a 2.1 GPA, but she needed to go anywhere but here. She also knew Sal was destined for great things. He was something special. He'd be a college professor, history. Regardless of college, she'd be a playwright. Maybe an actress too. She'd been acting all her life, but she wanted to write the story for once.
Sal would take care of his family. Andie would leave hers behind. Everyone except Becca.
"Mm- practice. As much as I enjoy kissing you, we need to finish this scene and then we can do your flashcards," she smiled, pulling away from the magnetism.
He gave her a mock frown, still holding her in his arms. He didn't want to let go. Andie was a force. A hypnotic, firey, electric force. It would be a crime to not gaze upon her, to not be close to her, as much as he could.
"Fine, I'll be serious this time if you get us snacks? I feel that food will aid me in reflecting on my blunderous insults to Shakespearean prose," he raised his eyebrows as he smiled expectantly at her.
"Are you trying to bribe me?" she giggled like a child as she looked at him,"I'll do it, but you better stay true to your promise"
She started toward the downstairs trying to hide her humongous smile. Something washed over her when she was with him. She felt like she was actually real. Part of that was absolutely terrifying, but part of it felt like heaven.
Sal's family was perfect. Not in the ways hers was, but genuinely perfect. His parents loved him an Ravi. It was plain to see with everything they did. Like right now Nisha was bothering Ravi about finishing his lunch as Mohan laughed at the two of them. Her mom and dad would do the exact opposite. Which was why Sal would never meet them, and why her dad thought she was at the library right now.
"Oh hey sweetie how's studying going?" Nisha said with a bright smile as soon as she noticed her.
"Well, I think I'll get the part but I don't think he should take up acting anytime soon. We're about to start on his work, but he requires snacks," she smiled, heading to the pantry to grab some insanely over sugared caramel popcorn. Sal's favorite.
Before she could head upstairs something worked its way into her mind. A face in the corner of her eye. A face she had seen before. A face she had stared at for way too long before. Her dad's mistress.
She stepped back a few steps to see the girl. Her face was plastered on the television screen. Then it hit her. The newscaster said something about a strangler but she couldn't hear. The floor swayed beneath her, and her lungs stopped working. Her dad's mistress was dead. She desperately screamed at her mind to stop thinking about that one "what if" question. It felt like something was clawing at the insides of her stomach.
"Are you okay dear? You look like you've just seen a ghost."
Fifteen minutes later she was trembling inside of a gas station bathroom with her phone clutched between her hands. She'd made up an excuse about her dad needing her.
Now she was obsessively rereading each and every line in this article. She couldn't turn herself away. Each and every word wrapped around her brain. Like they were sucking every last shred of hope out of her. Within second they moved down to her throat, strangling her.
She couldn't sleep that night. Not that she ever could. She knew it was insane to think her dad could ever kill someone. Her mind just jumped at the worst and she wouldn't let it go until she proved herself wrong.
A/N SO I'M GONNA LEAVE IT OFF HERE BC I FEEL LIKE I'M MOVING TOO FAST BUT I WILL TAKE ANY AND ALL CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM Y'ALL HAVE FOR ME :))))
Have a great morning/day/night