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What A Girl Wants

Summary:

Things Sugar misses from the past:
•Snapple
•Butterfly clips
•Watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer after finishing her math homework
•The bond between her, Carmy and Mikey where as long as they had each other, everything would be okay. (That's all fucked now. And there's nothing that she can do to bring it back.)
•Pull-out posters from magazines
•Glitter pens

Notes:

This fic is just a bunch of Sugar headcanons sewn together to form a story quilt. Something about her growing up as the only girl in the house, the only one not involved in the family restaurant and the whole implied dysfunctional family...spoke to me. Plus it was an excuse to use the 90s/2000s as a backdrop lol.

Warnings: brief period typical homophobia (ie. Richie being Richie)

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Things that Sugar doesn't miss from the past:

  • Her mom always telling her what to do
  • Low rise jeans
  • Super thin eyebrows (they never did recover from the embarrassing over-plucking when she was sixteen)
  • Snap bracelets
  • Being forced to go to family gatherings with the creepy uncles who would look too closely at what she was wearing
  • Double denim

Things Sugar does miss from the past:

  • Snapple
  • Butterfly clips
  • MTV (when it was actually good)
  • Watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer after finishing her math homework
  • Spending stupid amounts of time with her brothers and their antics
  • The way they all looked out for one another
  • The bond between her, Carmy and Mikey where as long as they had each other, everything would be okay. (That's all fucked now. And there's nothing that she can do to bring it back)
  • Pull-out posters from magazines
  • Glitter pens

☆☆☆

"Are we there yet?"

Sugar's spearmint gum makes the air taste cold. She is thirteen and right now the car ride is taking forever because Mom has gotten lost again. How hard is it to find the fucking beach?

Mikey sits in the front passenger seat, drumming his hands against the dash because TLC is playing on the radio. Next to Sugar in the back, Carmy plays with his Power Ranger figures, providing the enthusiastic sounds of explosions too. Sugar blows a bubble until it pops loudly. The gum sticks to her lips.

"Maybe if you stop asking so much, we'll get there faster." Mom replies. They take a distracted left turn and end up going down an avenue they've already been through. It's all circles, isn't it?

"I've got a headache." Sugar complains. It is true. Mikey is still drumming on the dash along with the radio, Carmy is absorbed in his toys. All the noise and movement makes her dizzy. They turn right this time, making for another road sign that they've definitely passed before. This is why Mikey should just do the driving. You can't trust Mom to get you anywhere.

The summer sun beats mercilessly through the window. The heat is making the car seatbelt burn against Sugar's arm, and her thighs stick to the polyester seating. She regrets wearing spaghetti straps now because her shoulders will probably burn bright pink. Her gum is starting to lose its taste and is nothing but a synthetic wad in her mouth. Ew.

"Roll your window down." Mom tells her impatiently, so Sugar does. Mikey rolls his down in sympathy too. The air is nice on Sugar's cheeks for a single moment, but it doesn't help with the headache or the sticky feeling of her skin against the carseat or the weak ebb of mint flavour on her tongue.

By the time they finally get to the beach and Mom does some shitty parking against the sidewalk, Sugar is so carsick that she spends the next hour watching the others enjoy themselves in the water while she sits far away on a sandy stoop. Carmy has left her one of his Power Ranger figures to help her feel better soon. He had said so with huge blue eyes and complete seriousness. It rests on the sand by her feet. That kid. She watches Mikey give Carmy a piggyback ride into the surf, laughing. Mom stands to the side, knee deep in the water and staring out into the horizon. She's mad that Sugar threw up on the sidewalk as soon as they parked. It isn't Sugar's fault that Mom can't fucking drive.

"It's not my fault car rides always give me headaches." She complains to Mikey later. He hums in agreement, half way through an ice cream cone. He had offered to buy her one earlier but she turned him down.

Like when she had sat on the sandy stoop after they arrived at the beach, watching her family play in the water, Sugar feels out of orbit, spinning at her own pace on the far edges of her family and not certain of her exact place in it.

 

☆☆☆

 

Sugar loves her brothers, don't get her wrong, but it is hard being the only girl at home sometimes.

Mikey always has Carmy's back for everything. He is so protective of his little brother, especially when it comes to kids making fun of his stutter in school. The two of them cook together all the time. The kitchen is their space. And of course Carmy practically worships the ground Michael walks on. Even as he gets older, it doesn't matter how many benders Mikey goes on or how much cash he splurges on the shitty family restaurant, Carmy doesn't believe that Mikey could do any wrong. They are there for each other always, even when they aren't. In spite of Carmy moving to New York, Mikey shutting him out of The Beef and the two of them barely speaking towards the end, they had a special bond. You can't deny that.

Even now that Mikey is dead, Sugar finds it hard not to be a little envious. It is stupid, she knows that, but the thought still sticks in the back of her mind. If Carmen and Mikey were so busy being there for each other, who was supposed to really be there for her when it came down to it?

 

☆☆☆

 

"You're going to the game with Matt Driscoll? The kid from band practise, with the stupid haircut? Yeah, I hear he sucked off half the track team. What a fucking fa- hey!"

Sugar throws a cushion at Richie's head from across the room. She is seventeen.

"Matt's nice, Richie. So don't say that."

"Say what? I didn't fucking say anything-"

"Well you were going to. Don't."

She stares Richie down, trying to communicate a sharp shut the fuck up with her eyes. She jerks her head towards the kitchen table where Carmy is doing school work, his face scrunched in concentration. He flunked another assignment earlier in the week and now he's trying really hard to pass this next one. He probably isn't even listening to their conversation. Still, Sugar doesn't want her little brother to have to hear Richie spew any more slurs than he normally does. Yeah, she knows that Carmy probably hears that shit all the time at school and that he isn't a baby anymore, but sometimes Richie needs a reminder of when to shut his mouth. He can be cruel sometimes. It's actually disgusting.

"I'm just saying," Richie shrugs and tosses the cushion back across the room lightly, "Matt fucking Driscoll? Why him?"

"Because, Richie, he actually has a nice personality. Unlike some people."

"Haha, very funny."

Sugar folds her arms, "Who said I was joking?" Richie shakes his head, stretching out his arms to lie back against the counter like he's at home. He may as well be. Sugar can't bring herself to stay mad, "You know, it's good to make friends with someone who isn't just Mikey-"

"Oh, is that the problem? Well spare me the fucking lecture, at least I'm not going to some stupid highschool football with a fairy for the free fucking snacks."

Sometimes Sugar wonders how Richie has the audacity to say things like that when he's been hanging off of Mikey's elbow since they were in first grade. She's seen the way Richie looks at her older brother when he's high and the wall of hardened bravado comes down - it's all heart eyes. She isn't stupid. Judgement is pretty rich coming from Richie of all people.

Carmy has paused his hasty scribbling to look between the two of them, blinking. He always looks a little lost, still like a kid surrounded by adults having conversations he doesn't understand. He looks like he's entertained, like he's watching a tennis match on TV. Realising he's been caught gaping, he grins sheepishly before going back to his work.

"Nice, Richie. Real nice," She passes through to the kitchen to ruffle Carmy's hair, "Try not to burn the place down while I'm gone, yeah?" That earns her a laugh at least.

Sugar goes to the football game with Matt and actually has a good time. They spend too much on pretzels and popcorn that they can't finish. The bleachers get slick with rain. The team that they're straining their voices cheering for, ends up losing. Even through all these things, Sugar has a good time. She isn't like the others, she tells herself. She isn't like Richie or Mikey. Sugar can have real friends and fun and a whole life outside of their tiny bubble, where they think the whole world is home and the restaurant. And she's right.

 

☆☆☆

 

For weeks before her wedding, Sugar couldn't sleep. It was just nerves, Pete said.

"It's normal to be nervous about your wedding, it's such a big day." He had assured her, puppy dog eyes wide.

"I know you're worried about your folks but look at it this way. It's one night. They can behave themselves for one night, right?"

Sugar had scoffed at that.

"Well if they don't, they'll have me to answer to- what? What's so funny? I'm serious!" Pete was so earnest. He really believed things would go great. He believed in optimism. He believed in her. Sugar still doesn't know what kind of dumb luck she has to have ended up with a husband like him, so supportive and loving. That kind of thing happens to other girls, not to her.

But Pete is right in the end. Their wedding goes off without a hitch. She doesn't trip and fall flat on her face walking down the aisle. She doesn't mess up her vows. Mom doesn't kill any distant relatives over desert. Mikey only gets drunk enough to hog the karaoke machine and nothing more. Pete cries into a handkerchief and not her dress, thankfully. It's too expensive to stain with so many tears. Carmy plucks up the courage to give a tiny speech at the reception. The weather is clear and sunny.

It's like a dream, all things considered.

 

☆☆☆

 

There is so much that Sugar remembers. Little, stupid things.

Birthday cake. Butterfly clips. Beanie babies. Snapple. Mariah carey. Boy bands. Britney Spears. CRT TV sets. Nokia phones. CDs. Fridge magnets. Stickers. Secret notebooks. Diaries. Glitter pens. Photos and family gatherings at Uncle Jimmy's. Findings her absentee Dad's old Playboy magazines in the basement. Being a footnote on one brother's obituary and a passing mention in the other's Food and Wine interview. Cleaning out Mikey's bedroom after the funeral. Crying on his bed all alone. Watching from the outside as the family restaurant swallows up her family one by one. College parties. Vodka and cranberry shots. Blue WKD. Christina Aguilera. Kitschy interior decor. The Twilight collection in Hot Topic. Troll dolls. Tamagotchis. Juice boxes. Friendship bracelets. Lip gloss. The unbearable struggle of being her mother's daughter.

Like Sugar said, just stupid things.

 

☆☆☆

 

"What about you, Bear?"

"Hm?"

"What are you gonna do?"

Sugar is lying on the cool tiles of the bathroom. It is too fucking hot out to do anything else. Carmy is sitting next to her, his knees tucked up under his chin. He will be graduating from highschool in less than a month. How the fuck did he get so old?

As far as Sugar knows, he should still be using chubby crayons and making his Power Rangers figures fight each other while he sits in his highchair, waiting for breakfast. Bear is eighteen. He's almost a real adult. Not a little kid anymore.

"I don't know, Nat. I was thinking of New York."

"New York?" She repeats.

"Yeah. You know, to get some real experience in the kitchens. You can learn stuff out there that you won't learn anywhere else. The best of the best type of stuff." He says it with such a serious, thoughtful tone. He really is going to leave the nest soon, isn't he?

Sugar just hums in response.

"I think it's a good idea, Bear."

"Really?"

"Yeah! When else are you going to get the chance to explore like that again? I say go for it."

Carmy grins, pleased with her approval, "Thanks, Nat."

They sit in silence for a minute. Sugar wants to reminisce. Remember that time when? When you played a tree in the school play? When you burned your arm on the barbecue? When you slept next to me because you had a nightmare after watching Jurassic Park for the first time?

Carmy shifts his knees closer to his chest, "I just need to tell Mikey now. About New York, I mean." He says.

Sugar hums again, "You know he'll be so excited for you, Bear. You don't have to worry about telling him. He knows how much you want this."

They both know it's the truth. It was inevitable anyway. Out of all the Berzatto kids, Carmy was always going to be the one to leave the nest for greater things. Sugar is so proud of him.

"Do you think he'll let me in, I mean, when I come back? Do you think he'll let me work in The Beef then?" Carmy asks quietly.

Now that is something Sugar isn't sure of. She could lie. (Of course he will. Why wouldn't he?) Or tell him the truth. (Mikey will never let you step foot in that shitheap. He wants better things for you. He doesn't want you to end up like him.) Which would hurt less?

Sugar just closes her eyes and lets the cold tiles prickle her arms. Carmy runs a hand over his face sleepily. They don't need to say much.

The day that Mikey dies and leaves Carmy the restaurant in his will, the day that Carmy has to quit his prestigious job and come scrambling back home, is the day that they find out the answer to his question.

 

☆☆☆

 

Through all the Al-Anon meetings, the group grief therapy sessions, the sleepless nights and mornings spent filling in a shitty reflection journal in an attempt to uncover home truths, Sugar realises something. It isn't really a huge revelation but it becomes clear to her for the first time all the same. She has realised that she acts like her mom when she's angry. The words that come out of her mouth are all moms, the widened eyes and hand on hip are all taught. The snippiness, the impatience and endless persistence to argue things out - those are all from mom too. It is Sugar's worst nightmare.

She sits with this realisation and isn't sure what to do with it. Outsourcing it to a therapist is probably a good idea. How the fuck did she end up here, an adult, becoming the person she swore she never would?

She remembers sullen evenings spent watching daytime TV. Dr Phil would drown out the room while Mom smoked next to her, exhaling smoke into Sugar's face. There was always a barrier between the two of them, some invisible disdain that Sugar never understood the cause of. She was her mother's daughter and that was her biggest crime.

"I see so much of myself in you, more than your brothers. They're like your father," Mom had told her once, her cigarette glowing in the dim. The studio audience on the TV cheered and applauded. "I used to think you could be different- but I've ruined you."

Ruined how? Sugar had been twelve, still a child. She didn't understand shit about the world as she tucked her hair behind her ear and took in every word her mother said.

"I've spoiled you, Natalie. No little girl should be given everything all the time. It makes you selfish."

Selfish. Sugar hadn't even hit puberty yet. She didn't understand the hurt twisting inside her. But Mom did. And Mom always knew how to twist the knife.

The last time Sugar saw Mom was after Mikey's funeral. Her mother had enlisted her to help in opening all the condolences cards. "I might not have been the best mother, I know that. I'll be the first to admit to it. Michael knew it too. But you, Nathalie. You weren't always the easiest daughter to have. You're too much like me." That had stung.

She gets her anger from Mom, Sugar knows that now. A quiet, bitter anger at the world. She has been trying hard to not let it consume her. She's a better person than her mother ever was. You see, Sugar gets her stubborn pride from her mother too.

Pete makes Sugar coffee and kisses the top of her head when he sits down for breakfast. His hair is a mess. He must have just rolled out of bed without even looking in the mirror.

"Journaling again?" He asks.

Sugar sighs, "Thinking about my mom." She admits.

"Oh?"

"Yeah."

He takes a sip of his own coffee, squinting at the sunlight coming through the back window, "I know it's hard for you to talk about her and stuff but uh," He smiles nervously, "We could talk about it? If it makes you feel better. You can like, totally vent. I'm all ears."

Bless his heart. The rest of her family might make fun of Pete behind his back but he is a good guy. He's sensitive. He is always in tune with what Sugar needs.

The morning sun is pretty. Sugar tucks her hair behind her ear and thinks about her younger self. She used to act so much older than she was. She used to think that she had to carry the world on her shoulders. Sugar wants to take that burden from her,

"Thanks, baby. I'd like that."

 

☆☆☆

 

Looking back, as she always does, Sugar realises things weren't that bad. Sure, there were bumps in the road. Plenty of ups and downs. But all together, she had it pretty okay because she had her brothers by her side. She used to think that it was Mikey and Carmy together and then herself on the outside. She used to think that they didn't have her back but really, they didn't do too bad of a job. Growing up all they had was each other (and begrudgingly, Richie) and maybe that made it all okay somehow.

 

☆☆☆

 

Sugar is eighteen when she goes to prom. She has it all: the sleek dress, the strappy heels, the perfectly curled ringlets and frosted purple eyeshadow. It's embarrassingly tacky with the benefit of hindsight. She even has a date. Landon Brady. He's a quarterback on the high school football team, he's smart at maths and he knows how to French kiss pretty well. Sugar likes the thought of how much it would scandalise her mom to know her daughter makes out with a guy in his car while What a Girl Wants plays on the CD after every football practice. Yeah, it's immature, but it's also rebellious. It's young and stupid fun. You're only eighteen once.

Richie is right when he jokes that Landon will dump her as soon as the night starts. Sugar and Landon aren't dating anyway, she tells herself. He's been pretty clear about that. It's nothing serious. Still, when he leaves her at the photo booth to drift off towards the bar and then disappears on the dancefloor for the whole night, she does feel a little hurt. He could have had the fucking grace to let her know beforehand. That way she wouldn't have spent twenty dollars on their ugly purple matching corsages.

Prom night is meant to be a big deal. One last hurrah for the graduating class, right? It’s sort of a national tradition. Sugar mingles on the dancefloor when NSYNC blasts from the speakers and tries to enjoy herself, but by the time that Prom King and Queen are being announced, she finds herself resigned to the corner with the limp streamers and balloons. She walks out to the school office to ask to use the phone.

“What did I tell you? Prom sucks.” Richie says, as she closes the car door behind her. God, his parking is so shitty. They’re practically taking up the whole sidewalk. All they need is to scoot forward a few inches to take out the closest fire hydrant. Mikey pats her shoulder sympathetically from where he sits in the back. Sorry, Sugar. She reaches back to squeeze his hand. Thanks. Carmy is there too, nose buried in a comic book. Who let him tag along? He has school tomorrow. He should be asleep in bed.

“It’s fine, I’m not upset or anything. It’s just any old night and- look, can we just go? I’m starving.” She pulls off her corsage and heels. What a relief.

Richie grins, “Fuck yeah. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

They end up in the parking lot of a McDonalds, stuffing their faces. Richie is telling one of his stupid stories and of course, Mikey is laughing so hard that his eyes water. Carmy raises his cheeseburger as if he is toasting cheers with a glass of champagne instead. Sugar just feels happy to have the three of them around, washed out in the glow of the streetlights. Richie lights a cigarette out the window.

“Can I have one, Cousin?”

Sugar laughs, “Seriously, Bear? You’re fourteen, come on. You’re such a bad influence, Richie.” But she plucks the butt from Richie’s hand to take a drag herself.

Mikey gives Carmy the last of his fries and puts his feet up on the back of Sugar’s headrest, smiling to himself. He never says it but she knows how much he loves this. Spending time with the rest of them. It’s a huge, bursting love under all the quiet smiles. His eyes shine in the dark.

“To Nat,” he raises his plastic cup, “Finally done highschool!”

“Here, here.” Richie agrees. Carmy grins, still wide-eyed at being allowed to tag along at all. Sugar laughs. Still in her satin dress and make-up, she feels decidedly unlike herself. She feels new and grown-up. She isn’t sure that she likes it. The future is scary. Always has been. She has always found more comfort in the past, in the tangible memories and trinkets of old, safe familiarity. Things really are changing now that she’s done high school and has to go out into the big, wide world. A new chapter or whatever. Something a little cheesy, to that effect. Sugar doesn’t know if she will ever be ready to properly grow up and move on. She doesn’t want to leave behind her home or all of her magazine posters or her CD collection. She will miss her tiny bedroom vanity and the nook where she keeps her makeup. She doesn’t want to forget the squirming, warm feeling she gets inside when she looks at family photos or flicks through old, glittery diaries or spends time with her three favourite idiots in all the world.

Mikey, Carmy and Richie are all laughing about something again and Sugar wishes she could just stay here in the car, in this shitty McDonalds parking lot under a streetlight, forever. She’s going to miss this in the future, isn’t she? “I’ve had a great night.” She tells them then, because Sugar is always the one to say how she feels. She’s the best of it. And as corny as it sounds, the four of them manage to pile into a clumsy hug. Carmy almost gets squished. Richie insists on giving Mikey a noogie on the way out of it. Sugar laughs so much that she doesn’t realise she’s crying too. Maybe things will be okay. Maybe it isn’t all so bad after all. They get milkshakes, turn up the radio and blast Backstreet Boys all the way home. Sugar never forgets it. No matter how many years pass, no matter that Mikey is gone, no matter how much everyone changes yet stays the same, she keeps the memory warm.

It is definitely going in the things she misses from the past list in her journal.

Notes:

Can you tell I watched Lady Bird (2017) before writing this?

I also made a playlist of all the nostalgic girlypop I listened to that helped me get into the mood to write this lol: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1xItJaVWOAUKsUx6QorBSa?si=e4d35051865e4850

I'm on tumblr @sweetmilkbread, if you want to say hi

xoxo <3