Needing 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

HOW TO RUN FROM THE MESS YOU MADE

TARA

"I'd appreciate it if you'd keep your comments about Gerard to yourself, Liz."

Lizzie Young was one of my sister's closest friends, alongside Claire Biggs. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to look straight through you, while her messy blonde hair gave her a carefree appearance. Her face was angelic, with delicate features that seemed almost ethereal. Yet, she was an angel with a bleeding heart and wings that had been cruelly torn away.

A bit like you, huh?

Life had been harsh and twisted for her. She had lost her older sister, Caohmie, when she was just eleven years old. Although I had never met her sister, Darren had known her well. Shannon had told me that people in Tommen referred to her as 'the Viper' due to her harsh demeanor and sharp tongue.

"Since when are you friends with him?"

"He was there with me in the hospital when my mother lost the baby."

"I'm...I'm sorry."

I offered her a half-smile. "It's not that hard, is it? To say sorry."

Lizzie Young was still, in many ways, that eleven-year-old girl who had lost her sister, trapped in the body of a sixteen-year-old. It was almost absurd how this fucking town expected her and her family to simply move on from Caohmie's death. As if that was something you could just do. If anything like that ever happened to one of my siblings—Joey, Shan, Tadgh, Ollie, or Sean—I knew I'd lose my mind. I'd tell the whole world to fuck off. Yet somehow, people here thought Lizzie should just pick herself up and get on with it. The absurdity of it made me want to scream for her.

"I guess not," she finally replied. "But fuck them."

I placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling the tension in her body. "I get it. You lost your sister, and that's something no one should ever have to go through. But so did he." I paused, choosing my words carefully. "The circumstances might have been different—hell, they were a lot different—but that doesn't change the fact that you both lost your sisters."

People grieved in their own ways. Some took months or years; others might never truly move on. And then there are people like Lizzie, who refuse to let go, clinging so tightly to the pain because it's all they have left of the person they loved. Caohmie's death had become Lizzie's defining trait, the thing that overshadowed everything else. The bright, joyful girl she once was had been buried beneath all that pain and loss, replaced by someone who couldn't find her way out of the darkness.

She turned away from me sharply, her expression hardening. "Are you taking his side now?"

"I'm not taking sides, Liz. I'm trying to make you see that taking your anger out on that boy isn't going to bring your sister back. Using him as your personal fucking punching bag isn't going to change anything. It isn't going to bring Caohmie back, and it isn't going to make you feel better in the long run."

Lizzie's facade cracked, her face twisting with guilt and shame. "I know!" she shrieked, the words bursting out of her like she'd been holding them in for too long. "I didn't mean to... I just can't stop. Every time I see him... all I see is him."

Him. Mark Allen. Caohmie's ex-boyfriend and Gibsie's stepbrother.

"I hate everyone."

I couldn't help but soften at that. "You don't seem to hate my sister," I said, allowing a small smile to tug at my lips. "And Shan likes you."

"She shouldn't. She'd be better off without me. Claire and she—they'd both be better off without me."

"Maybe," I teased lightly, watching as her eyes narrowed into a glare. "But you're stuck with them. They'd have ditched you a long time ago if they really thought that way. You know that."