Sunset and Vine | Adopted By Elizabeth Olsen

23 | Youre Gonna Go Far

Lizzie stands in the middle of her bedroom, hands on her hips as the events of the morning play over in her head, crashing against her like heavy waves during a storm, not a sign of the end being near. She hadn't had time to process anything before, her day being all or nothing from the start, but the result of her constant pushing aside was coming back to bite her in the ass as she tried to dissect all that had happened without spiraling with Florence and her sisters in the apartment. That was easier said then done as she recounted all that occurred since she'd woken, and how she'd not only spoken to Florence about her license and her intent on getting her transferred, but she'd been called a mother figure and had dealt with the biggest panic attack she'd seen the little girl have within the same hour. She couldn't help but feel like she was already failing, even if the latter wasn't her fault and she'd been equally thrown off. But her brain kept circling back to one bone-chilling question; was she equipped for this? Was she the best option for Florence? Selfishly she wants to be, she can't imagine her life any other way, but she's halfway to a panic attack after only a few hours of Florence knowing the plan, that can't be a sign of fit parenting.

Her mom would know what to do. Her mom always knew what to do. She was always a safe place to land, but she couldn't fall back on her this early. What message would that send? That she couldn't handle this, that she was in over her head, and she is. Lizzie knows that she's in over her head, but she's willing to drown for the next few months if that means Florence can swim. What happens afterward though? When they don't have to worry about Alan, and she doesn't have to say goodbye at the end of the night anymore. What happens when Florence is entirely hers, and she has nothing to fall back on but an empty road she's never been down before. She's never been a fan of the unknown, she's a chronic over-planner, an extensive strategist, but the realization dawns on her like the moon reflecting against a midnight sea in spring that after this moment, nothing will ever be old news.

She'd come upstairs to grab clothes for her and Florence to change into, but she hadn't gotten any farther then the middle of her bedroom staring blankly at her closet. She wouldn't trade Florence for anything, she's confident in that, but she can't help but wonder if she's the right person to be her guardian. She's a twenty-five year old woman who experiences crippling panic and is only freshly out of a four year relationship, can she handle a nine-year-old? Even if she can't, she knows that she has to. She'd give her life before she let Florence fall back into the system, even if that means countless nights like this were every part of her body feels distorted and not her own.

Sighing, Lizzie tugs her damp hair off the back of her neck, securing it in a ponytail slightly higher then the nape of her neck. It's not dripping down her back anymore, but it's not fully dry either. and the way it clings to her skin is only pushing her further into panic. Naming four things she can see, her hand runs over the comforter on her bed, forcing herself to feel it beneath her fingertips. She can feel the comforter. She can feel the floor beneath her feet. She can feel the air conditioner blowing on her wet skin. With a deep breathe and closed eyes, she forces herself to disregard everything she'd been focusing on for the last half hour. Getting cold feet now isn't fair to Florence, and despite everything, she'd never take back those emails. She wants this, she's a thousand percent committed to this, but having nine months to prepare for a baby is different then throwing yourself into a relationship with a nine-year-old who has enough trauma to rival a child actress.

Lizzie spins around when there's a knock on her bedroom door. Just one, a telltale sign that Florence has come to find her. Her heart feels the slightest bit lighter, her lips twitching upward into a smile that she can't shake. Yeah, she wouldn't trade this for the world.

Lizzie takes long strides toward the door, smiling softly when Florence's pouty face comes into view, and she sees the little girl hugging her hands in front of her body as she rocks between the balls and heels of her feet. "Sorry bug, I got caught up in my head. Do you wanna pick out something to wear?"