Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cynthia's mom was always shitty, Alice Zdunowski. She was, in all honest terms, a total loon. She was mean, loud, and angry, and she didn't understand anything whenever Cynthia tried to explain it. They were close once when she was little. They’d drive to the orchards and pick baskets of blueberries and strawberries, getting their fingers stained with purples and pinks. They’d laugh at the TV when her dad was at work, and Cynthia liked helping her mom cook. But there were things she did like, that her mom didn't, and things Alice liked, that she didn't.

One thing, in particular, was cars and dresses. It was like comparing fire to clouds for Cynthia. She’d grown up in her dad's auto shop, sitting on his lap while he fixed an engine, or laying down next to him while he rolled himself under a car. She was always attached to his hip, always begging to go to work with him. Cars made sense in her brain, the way they worked, the way they ran, it was all smooth. Her mom hated it, she would complain and whine like a child whenever Cynthia went to the shop. She would pout and moan about how her life was terrible because her daughter was terrible.

What made Alice happy? Dresses- and she never understood those. Why would you subject yourself to being pinned up and smothered and tangled into a piece of fabric that got itchy and tight, and you had to sit a certain way in, and you basically couldn't do anything with it? It made her mom happy to see her in a dress. She’d fuss over Cynthia's nice long brown hair and her perfect baby blue eyes like she was a doll. She’d show Cynthia off to all her friends, and say “Look, now doesn't this just look so right and nice? Don't you wanna wear this all the time now?” Cynthia never agreed with her. When she disagreed, Alice screamed. And yelled. And fought.

The boys were at the tipping point. One day Cynthia was rolled under a car, she was probably about seven or so, her hair was in two pigtails, ratty and unbrushed but up, off her neck. She was in overalls, it was one of the few days her mom didn't dress her, which gave Cynthia free rein. She had little black boots on, and she felt someone kick it.

“Scram! I’m busy,” she yelled to whoever kicked her, probably her dad who wanted to see what she was doing. But it persisted, kicking her again. She’d relented by then, rolling out from under the car to come face to face with a little black-haired scrawny boy. “Who’re you?”

“I’m Ed,” the boy stood on two flat feet, his hand outstretched to shake, “I’m helping you guys! Your dad told my mom that I can help out here for some money, my dads went away to fight, and we need what we’ll get. What’s your name?”

“Cynthia. You have a front tooth missing, I had that. You’ll be able to whistle real good now,” She’d said, sticking her hand out in greeting. Eddie shook her hand and thus started their friendship of a lifetime. He introduced her to his crew of Gil, Richie, Potato, and Richies sister Olivia.

Alice flipped her lid. It started a screaming match between Cynthia and her. Shouting back and forth about how Cynthia shouldn't have been in the shop in the first place. Cynthia was called all sorts of names: selfish, brat, disgusting, uncivilized, and worst of all, a disgrace. Thankfully, her mom was so loud that the neighbors had the insight to call the shop. Her dad was home in an instant, he told her to get out, to leave the house. And she did.

Cynthia didn't see her for a week after that. Her dad apologized over and over about how Alice treated her, and Cynthia opened up. She told him about how many times they’d fought and yelled like that before. Her dad was disgusted, “All because of some hair you wanna cut and clothes you wanna wear? Now, that's just silly,” He’d said to her. That same night he took her to the barber shop, and let her choose whatever style she wanted.

Cynthia never changed her hair much after that, she said she liked the style. It was a week before her mom saw it, a week of pure bliss with pants and shorts and no hair on the back of her neck and no hair to brush. Then Alice came home. It was after school, mid-fall, and Cynthia was sitting on the couch with her legs spread apart as she watched some sort of horse race on the TV with her dad, since he’d had to pick her up from school that afternoon he took the whole day off. It was rare, and it was amazing.

“What did you do to my daughter? Her perfect hair! Her dresses! You're a monster, you're horrible.” Alice shrieked, pointing a finger at Cynthia's dad. He tried to get up and walk over to her, but he didn't get close before Alice bolted towards Cynthia. She grabbed Cynthia by the hand and started pulling her to the door. “Come on, we’re leaving. I can fix you, you're so broken right now. I’m going to fix you.”

Cynthia didn't let her. She did what she always did best in her childhood, and bit her mom clean on the wrist. Alice let go, holding her wrist and shouting insults at Cynthia before leaving the apartment.

And it stayed that way, just Cynthia and her dad. Until Cynthia's second year of junior high, almost to the exact day, Alice had left.

–

“Cynthia Zdunowski, I’m going to need you to come with me to the main office. Bring your things,” A security officer opened the door to her English 1 class, the only class she had with Olivia and none of the boys. Olivia thrived here, and Cynthia withered. The only joy she had was watching Olivia get excited about answering questions, it felt like she was looking right into the sun. But this day, all that happened was heads turning to her as Cynthia's eyebrows knitted together while she gathered her things. She whispered goodbye to Olivia before she exited the classroom.

Rydell Junior High was probably one of the smelliest places in the whole wide world, and this was a fact. All Cynthia had ever known here was rotting apples left in lockers, and preteens messing with each other because no one knew who they were. It was hell, especially for Cynthia being friends with all boys. But she coped, she got defensive, and she got funny. But she didn't ever prepare to walk into the main office and see her mother standing before her. She was in what she always was, a kitten heel and a nice blue dress that made Alice look like the most perfect princess in the world with her perfect blue eyes and her perfect blonde hair.

“Mom! Hi!” Despite all Cynthia went through, despite the years that she could've been resenting her mom, she only wanted one thing, and that was to run up and hug her. And that's exactly what she did, barreling into her mom and hugging her right around her waist. All she got in return was a pat on the back.

“Hi, Cee,” Alice said, waiting before Cynthia let go. She bent her knees to eye level with Cynthia, cupping her face with her hands. “Wow, look at you. What has this father of yours been doing to you? Keeping your hair short like this?” Alice ran her hands through Cynthia's hair while she stood, getting more and more uncomfortable as the clock kept ticking. “Well it's a good thing I came here when I did! I signed you up for a lovely preparatory school and it's just to die for. Do you have everything? You won't be coming back here.”

Cynthia took a step back, “Mom! What?” she shook her head, “I’m not leaving Rydell. I like it here, I like my friends.”

“Oh please, those boys are not your friends,” Her mother waved her off, picking up her pocketbook and walking out the main office door, holding Cynthia's hand as she dragged her out. “They only want one thing from you, what all boys want. It was fine to be messy when you were little I thought- I guess I was wrong. You need some serious straightening out.”

Cynthia pulled and pulled until they stood outside her mom's car, wiggling her hand free. “Those guys are my friends, where have you been? I’m thirteen, you left when I was seven, Mom. I needed you- and you weren't there! And now you're saying I'm broken? No way. You don't even know who I am!”

“I know plenty just by looking at you. You Are as filthy as you were when you were a child. I left because I had to, and now that you're a teenager I can finally take you back! And I can fix you,” Alice's voice softened for the last sentence, “Don't you want to be normal? Don't you want to be with me?” She took Cynthia's hands into hers, gently at first but tightening her grasp when Cynthia tried to pull away.

“No, I don't want to. If you're gonna... gonna treat me like this? Fat chance.” Cynthia said, tugging her hand free. She didn't know what to do, but she saw her mother open the backseat to the car door.

And then Cynthia was running. She ran to the bike racks, jumped onto her bike, and made her way. Her lungs ached with every breath, and her throat felt raw from yelling, but she kept going, she kept pedaling street by street until she dropped it at her apartment complex, running up the stairs. She knew she was safe when she locked the door behind her, gasping for breath before she sat down, and started to cry.

She only told Ed what happened that day, what her mom had said to her, what she had done, and how she hated her mother, she hated Alice. She never thought she’d see her again. That was- until one fateful day in Rydell High.

Chapter Text

Lydia. That's the first thing Cynthia thought of when she woke up in the morning, her hand still wrapped around the phone cords wire. She looked up at the ceiling, the morning son fluttering in through the window, psyching herself to sit up. She must've fallen asleep on the couch on the phone, listening to Lydia's voice. She rubbed the crust out of her eyes as she sat up, putting the phone back on the hook with a wide open-mouthed yawn.

The morning proceeded like any morning Dad had to take the night shift because none of his guys could- which was often. She normally woke up from her bed, threw her alarm clock across the room, and slept until either the girls or Ed called her on the phone to wake her up. Instead, she walked into her room to shut the annoyingly shrill alarm clock. Huh, like Jane's lectures. I gotta remember that one. She got dressed, normally in a long ankle-length skirt and a t-shirt to her dismay, because the scary dress code was out to get her.

It never got better or felt any more natural to pull a skirt on, but the best she could hope for was bringing pants to change into after school. She regularly forgot breakfast, and Lydia regularly remembered her. The one thing Cynthia never forgot in the mornings was to lock the door.

Her bike was easy enough to ride with a skirt on since it was so long. She pulled into the school parking lot and waltzed right into the school, right up to Jane's locker. “Heya! Looks like not great skies today. Wacha thinkin'? We can't just do Frosty's again- too predictable. I like spice.” She felt happier, and more energetic than usual today. The thing that did weigh down her spirits was Jane's response, which was nothing. “Hey, Facciano, what's going on?”

“It- I don't know. With Frankie around here, I don't feel comfortable going… never mind. Gotta go.”Jane'ss voice sounded weaker, more hoarse. Before Cynthia could ask anything else, Jane bolted like a cat when you tried to pick it up, leaving Cynthia alone in the busy hallway. It didn't make sense to Cynthia, it felt too strange. This wasn't like Jane- was it?

Cynthia took that thought and put it in a box, mentally declaring it for when she's in class to mull over. She made her way to Olivia and Nancy's lockers, annoyingly close to each other. “Hey guys, Jane's being real flighty, less alarm clock than normal. Olivia wants to check it out?” She shrugged, leaning her back on the locker between Nancy and Olivia.

Olivia just looked around, feigning she thought Cynthia was talking to someone else before pointing to herself, “Me? Why me?”

“You're her best friend, duh,” Nancy said rolling her eyes and closing her locker.

“And I’m Nancy's best friend,” Cynthia said, smiling with wide eyes and looking at Nancy expectantly, who merely just walked away without answering. “That means yes!”

“Fine, I’ll check in, just don't fuck anything up today- got it? This is uncharted waters. I’ll pick you guys up and take us to her house,” Olivia warned, putting one hand on Cynthia's shoulder and patting her before she left Cynthia alone too.

Thankfully, the first class on Cynthia's roster was theater, which she didn't quite mind anymore. She settled herself into a third-row seat, perching her legs over the seat in front of her. There was a scene onstage with Floyd and Gretchen, directed by Lydia. They were supposed to be in love, but they kinda looked like two sticks who didn't wanna touch each other. Maybe they’ve both got a stick up their asses- that would explain a lot. And Cynthia laughed at the joke in her head. It earned her some questioning looks, to say the least, but nothing that would make them truly examine her sanity. At least not today.

Cynthia let her eyes trail Lydia, who wore a black skirt and a red button-up blouse. She was gorgeous, entirely breathtaking. Cynthia let herself watch Lydia until the scene ended, and Lydia made her way up to Cynthia with her bag slung over her shoulder, sitting down next to her. She didn't say anything, no she just pulled a bagel with butter in a ziplock bag out of her bag and handed it to Cynthia.

“Thanks, doll,” Cynthia said in a low enough voice to be sure no one overheard her before she took one of the biggest bites out of her bagel she could manage, chewing obnoxiously at Lydia, who simply knocked her shoulder into Cynthais.

The rest of the class was magic, the pleater seats below them with the scent of wood-dust sifting through the air while the techies built in one corner and lit the stage in the other. Typically, actors were encouraged to join, but Lydia always got special exceptions, and by association so did Cynthia. Mr. V was yelling from the first row of seats up to the booth whenever he liked something or didn't, or if he had any thoughts at all. Cynthia and Lydia just sat, and watched, the occasional comment and jokes volleyed between them, but not much beyond that. It was an easy day, a light one. The fall fair had passed, it was mid-November and the weather was inching towards being more cloudy- which was the closest thing California had to seasons. It was one of the few days rain was supposed to happen, even if it was a sun drizzle.

“I long for a place with culture and weather,” Lydia groaned as the bell rang and she stepped out of the building from one of the stage doors.

“You can just SAY New York, you don't have to tip-toe around it.” Cynthia smiled, her crooked teeth peeking out below her lips.

Lydia sighed, the back of her hand brushing Cynthia as they walked to the parking lot, the sun lighting the clouds above. The sky was white-gray, with no promise of any real threat. For some reason, it made Cynthia feel safe. Walking on the asphalt in her black Converse, next to her girlfriend, the sky hiding itself just for her privacy. It felt quiet.

“Hey, what’re your plans today? You wanna come over?” Lydia asked, turning abruptly to Cynthia when they reached her motorcycle.

“‘Livia is picking me up to go to janes. We’re worried about her, but I'll swing around after I get home. Maybe around 10 or so?” Cynthia asked, hoisting herself up to swing a leg over the seat, picking up her helmet from where she left it on the handlebars.

Lydia smiled content in a way, before turning on her heel and sauntering away toward Floyd's car (probably). Cynthia felt a warm feeling in her chest when she saw Lydia's small smile when she turned around to look at Cynthia one last time. Jeez, I’m down bad.

“Jeez you’re down bad,” Nancy said from behind Cynthia, making her jump.

Cynthia regained herself, putting her hand on her beating heart, “God! Nancy! You gave me a heart attack,” She said, handing her spare helmet strapped to the back of her bike to Nancy. “We’re going to my house, not Frosty’s. I’m changing.”

Nancy audible sigh of relief when she sat down behind Cynthia, hugging around her waist as the cycle started up.“Thank god, that outfit is not working,”

Cynthia knew Nancy was looking out for Cynthia, it was obvious she was uncomfortable whenever she wore skirts and dresses, and Nancy knew it. She knew this was her friend, her person. Yeah, Olivia had Jane, but Cynthia had Nancy; who only engaged in physical contact with Potato and Cynthia, so that's a win.

They pulled up to the auto shop, Cynthia's apartment residing in one of the few complexes above it, the parking spots all packed. Cynthia resigned herself to pulling her bike into the shop, noticing legs sticking out of some sort of Mustang with a loud whirring sounds, and walking through it to the main hallway and climbing the stairs, leading a chattering Nancy, something about tulle.

Then her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. The door was unlocked. 106, this is her apartment, the place she grew up. It was unlocked, she just turned the doorknob and it went, it wasn't supposed to. Maybe Dad came up from the shop? Wasn't he just down there? What if it was one of the guys?

“Hello? Are you going to open the door or are we stranded out here? It's just a door,” Nancy said, pushing past Cynthia and opening the door, walking right into the apartment, leaving Cynthia no choice but to follow. Nancy was sprawled down on the couch, fumbling with the remote when Cynthia saw her. Nancy didn't seem like she saw anything unusual, but Cynthia did. There was a plate on the side table with crumbs on it, one she didn't use last night. There was an extra jacket on the hook, and all the magazines went from a frenzied pile to a perfect stack.

“Someone’s-” Cynthia tried to say before she heard a door squeak open, looking at her room as a 5’4 woman exited. She had on a tauntingly blue a-line dress, brown kitten heels, long blonde hair, and Cynthia's same eyes. Cynthia didn't want to believe it, she didn't want to register Alice standing right in front of her for the first time in 4 years.

“-living in this pig sty? Yes, I agree. It's astounding to me too.” Alice said, looking down at Nancy who sat up on the couch, her back razor straight and her eyes wide. “You’re new. I didn't know Cee associated with girls now, looks like you're finally normalizing yourself, sweetheart,” Alice said walking up to Cynthia, moving to touch Cynthia's hair, betting her hand caught by Cynthia's hand at the wrist.

“Don't touch me, Alice.”

“Well, that is no way to talk to your mother.”

Chapter Text

Feet hit pavement, rubber soles slapping onto the hard ground again, again and again. Eyes watering, theyre dry,
No wait, too wet. Thats fine. Keep going,
My lungs hurt are th y too smal ?
Ke p g ing . you ca t stop now
Run n feet hit pavement, the soles are thin you can feel the rocks below your toes
A aw ay go a away maybe you need new shoes
Its d rk
G od ni t

Chapter Text

Olivia pulled into the apartment parking lot when Cynthia was already a mile down the road in the opposite direction, aching and panting and running. Nancy was frantically running down the steps to the apartment and into the broad daylight, followed by Alice with a harsh look on her face. That's all Cynthia ended up getting out of Olivia and Nancy when Olivia came to pick them up.

Cynthia didn't quite know where she was when she collapsed either, but supposedly she was over three miles away from the apartment with blood making a small drip drop from her mouth. She leaned against a tree, appearing that she’d sat down before she lost consciousness, but everything was hazy after she saw Alice. It was like her brain had turned into a block of cheese, holes gaping out of the already squishy and unstable block.

She opened her eyes after she’d been hauled into her mom's car, jostling and tumbling in the back seat. It was the second time she woke up on a seat, yet this time she didn't feel calm. She didn't know where she was at first, but when she did, Lydia was the first thing on her mind, and as the leather seats squeaked below her Converse when she sat up, she regretted not saying goodbye. She didn't say goodbye to any of them. Not even Nancy.

A horn blared eerily close to the car she was tossing in, fully tugging her into awareness, looking at the front seat where her mother sat. They were speeding, and definitely heading east, away from Rydell. She tasted blood, and her tongue aches like it had been stabbed. Cynthia tried to stay hidden, hoping her mom would see she was asleep while she peeked out of the rear window. What she saw was Olivia driving with the hood down, while Nancy was in the passenger seat leaning over to blare on the horn.

And then the car stopped altogether, and life went into slow motion. Cynthia's mom finally did something right, she buckled Cynthia into the seat before speeding off. She was tugged forward, and the seatbelt split her in her ribs and her stomach, taking the air right out of her lungs. She wheezed, holding onto her head that must've slammed onto the front of the seat in front of her head as she sat up, watching her mom get out of the car and start screaming.

The car wasn't hit, it wasn't hurt. With shaky hands Cynthia unbuckled herself, opening the door to the backseat to see a motorcycle parked in front of the car, skidding marks behind it as if it had been fast going into slow. The air had a whiff of burnt and tugged rubber, and Cynthia felt pain shoot up her skin from her feet when she stood, almost dropping to the ground.

Ed was in front of her, holding his hand up, looking at Cynthia with a sideways smile, “Looks like you lost a tooth in the bottom row there, you’ll be able to whistle real good now.” He said, leaning a hand down, hoisting Cynthia onto her feet.

That's when she saw Olivia holding Nancy by the waist, her mother holding her cheek with a wide-eyed look. Nancy looked entirely rabid, fighting against Olivia's grip to get to Alice, who seemed intimidated by her. Cynthia's ears were ringing, but she knew that Nancy said something along the lines of peeling Alice's skin off and making it into a coat. Creepy.

The world faded after that, she knew she saw grassy fields to her left and to her right, but she didn't know how far they were from home. Cynthia was placed into the backseat of the black hunk of junk that Girl called a car, and didn't even bother to wonder why Gil was away from his baby and prized possession. She simply sat in the back seat, twisting around to see Alice try to get past Ed and get into her own car to follow them. Eventually, they faded into the distance, and Cynthia could put her back against the cushion of the back seat, and watch Nancy and Olivia take turns glancing back at her and asking questions.

“Lydia, can we go see Lydia?” Cynthia asked, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, watching Nancy and Olivia glance at each other before Nancy turned to look Cynthia in the eyes.

“We’re dropping you off there, just to get Jane. That means don't get cozy,” Nancy pointed at Cynthia, raising one eyebrow. Cynthia nodded, and in a split second Nancy was handing Cynthia a bundle of napkins, “I carry these with me for these situations.”

Cynthia didn't even want to know what situations Nancy was referring to, but she took the napkins, cleaning her mouth out as best she could, pressing them against her gums where she’d lost a tooth when her head hit the seat and her tongue where she’d bit down. She wondered at that time, the car jostling under her feet and her hair in the wind, what her dad would say, what he knew, how to tell anyone else. It was all so complicated, but in that moment, riding in the car with two of her best friends, on the way to see her girlfriend, she knew she’d be ok.