As the youngest Shelby child and twin to Finn Shelby, Kezia has spent the last 4 of her 10 years locked away for her mental defectiveness.
She returns to Small Heath under the legal guardianship of her brother, Thomas Shelby. Despite knowing she's s...
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There's an important Author's Note/Reminder at the end of this chapter.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Kizzie didn't feel like her own person most of the time.
Because she truly wasn't.
The mask she wore was an amalgamation of people she met. Bits of their personalities and interests and gestures that Kizzie liked the most. It became easy to steal them, because no one was looking at her in the first place.
"Just for the part," Finn told her as he placed the pint in front of her. "This ain't the Garrison. Won't find your Coke here."
Kizzie smiled and wrapped her fingers around the handle. "It's okay, Finnie."
Her twin sat next to her in the booth, hiding her from his friends. Four of them plus her and Finn sat together. Kizzie leaned her back against the cushion, like she noticed other girls doing. This was nice.
"Ugh, here he is."
Kizzie turned to see who the boys were talking about.
She'd seen the newcomer around. A boy around her age who technically wasn't a Peaky Blinder yet; it was easy to tell because new boys didn't earn their haircut yet.
"You made it, Ozzy!" One of Finn's friends greeted. His smile felt genuine, despite his earlier words. Strange.
He was tall and lanky, like a brand new pencil. And with a smile that took up most of his face. He took the only available seat opposite Kizzie and Finn. "Sorry I'm late."
People-colors showed themselves less frequently now. Kizzie wasn't really sure what changed, but she was grateful; colors often overloaded her brain.
Oscar—Ozzy—was one of the colors she couldn't see. But that didn't mean she never would. He had a quietness to him. Maybe his colors were gray, like John. John liked to keep to himself most days and let Arthur and Tommy take the lead. Kizzie missed him. Maybe she'd ask Esme to come over for dinner one night... Even if she disliked being around her nieces and nephews. Children colors never turned off.
"S'alright, mate. Get yourself a pint."
"Y-you can have mine," Kizzie mumbled. The boy looked at her untouched beer. "I haven't had any. Finn just came with it." She felt her twin's eyes searing her, but she remained smiling. Kizzie didn't want the drink to go to waste, and no one would dare ask for hers if she hadn't offered.
The boy nodded. "Thank you, Miss Shelby." He wanted to smile, but anything other than looking like a stoic corpse could be perceived as flirting. Kizzie still didn't know what flirting meant. Ada said it was the way someone spoke or acted with you to know if they like-liked you.
