A to Z

I'll Show You My World

Isabelle Jones had not gone by the name Isabelle in almost four years. The name was too soft for her. She needed a better name. So she chose to go by Izzy, or Z for short. This was a name that could earn a reputation. A reputation was exactly what she needed to make it through her life. She was an orphan who was finally adopted when she was thirteen. Her family was fine, but their children were terrible. They treated her like trash, so when she began eighth grade, Izzy made herself a reputation in order to cope. Now she was Z, the girl who made trouble, skipped class but still excelled, and stayed out late every Friday and Saturday night. That was her reputation.

Adam Cassidy was the notorious A, a boy who never went to class, had a new girlfriend every week, and seemed to live in detention. No one knew how he'd gotten like this, but many assumed it happened after his mother passed away and left him with a neglectful father. A had gained terrible reputation, and was most likely going to fail out of school. That was the name he had gained, but A felt like that was actually who he was.

* * * * *

One Monday morning, Z was running late for school, but she needed to attend her homeroom that day in order to keep up her grade, so she raced to her locker and was almost at her class when she bumped into A. Everyone was scared of A - even the girl with a reputation almost as bad as his - so Z shivered as she looked up and into his diamond eyes.

"What's the rush, love?" A stared at her as he began to back her into the wall.

"I- I just need to get to class," Z struggled against his buff arm, "Please get off of me. My class is right here."

"Oh? So the famous Z needs to get to class? Since when does she care about that?" A inquired.

Z glared, "Since she needs to keep up her grade."

"Hmmm, maybe I should just tell the whole school about who you really are," A challenged, "That is, unless you want to meet me after school by my bike?"

"Fine! Just get off of me!" Z shoved his arm away and made it into her classroom just as the tardy bell rang.

A smiled a cheshire grin as he watched her step into class. He doubted that Z would bother showing up after school, but A could still wish. Then a teacher spotted him, gave him another detention, and walked him to his homeroom.

When school ended, A escaped the detention room with masterful ease and ran to his motorbike. To his surprise, Z was there. She was sitting on his bike with her feet on the handlebars and her hands behind her head. When she noticed A running towards her, Z hopped off, stretched, and bowed to him with a flourish. A stood shocked for a second and then regained his composure to grab her hand and pull her towards his chest.

"You're taller up close," he whispered into her ear then spun out to grab his helmet and an extra for Z, "Take this and I will show you something amazing."

"Okay, Ace, show me your world," Z hopped on the back of his bike and grabbed his waist as he began to ride off. The wind swept across her face and her bleached hair whipped out behind her. A was driving very fast, "So," Z yelled, "are you going to tell me where you are taking me? Or will I just have to trust you?"

"Trust me!" A said, "Believe me, you'll like it!"

"Okay Mr. Ace."

"Why am I Ace?"

"Why don't we stop and I'll tell you!"

"Don't worry, we're almost there!"

A few minutes later, A pulled to a stop at the bottom of a tall hill with a view of the town. He hopped off and helped Z with her helmet. Then A ran to the top of the hill and Z ran up after him.

"Are you gonna tell me why we're here?" Z asked sweetly.

A spun around to face her and put his hands on her shoulders, "You're going to tell me why I am Ace. Then I tell you what this place is."

"Okay..." Z prepped herself and plopped down on the dusty ground near the edge of the cliff looking out on the town, "You are Ace just because I like that name. No other reason. It seems to fit you. Also, it would be weird for us to be A and Z."

"Oh? Us?"

"Hmph. Okay, I said my reason, and it's not much of one. Now you say your reason for taking me here."

"Well, I've never actually taken anyone up here," A hesitated, "This is..., well, this is the last place my mom took me before she got sick. Now I come up here when life gets too hard. It always seems to clear my head when I come up here and talk... to my mom," he stopped and his face began to flush, "I don't know why I took you up here. We should go now," he stood up and tried to go down the hill, but Z grabbed his ankle, "Please. Please, can we just go," A tried to hold it together, but tears began coming out of his eyes, "Please."

Z stood up and wrapped her arms around him, pulling in his head and letting him cry, "It's okay to cry. Let it out," and she stood there holding him for a few moments, shocked that A was showing a weak side, "It's okay. It's okay. I'm glad you brought me here. It's okay. Shhhh."

A let himself be comforted by her and found that he actually liked it. He hadn't had someone to cry to since his mother had passed away. After a few minutes, A pulled away and wiped his eyes. He looked at Z and smiled softly, then thanked her for letting him let down his guard.

"If you want to talk, we can. I have stuff that I should probably get off my chest, too," Z said softly.

"Okay," A sniffed, "Let's talk then. Your turn."

"Did you know I'm an orphan?"

"No. I actually didn't."

"My parents gave me up when I was three. I barely remember them, and all I have from them is a few pictures and a baby blanket. When I was four, I entered the foster system and went from family to family - every single one giving me up because I was too much of a burden. When I was thirteen, I was in a group home when a family adopted me and I move here during the summer. The parents are kind and took care of me as if I was their own, but their two children - one older, one younger - have treated me terribly and used to bully me every day behind their parents backs. I want to stay with the parents, so I've never said anything because then my social worker might take me from that family. When eighth grade began, I decided to change. I would no longer be Isabelle or Belle, I would be Izzy, and eventually Z. That's how I got to who I am now. I don't even remember who I am."

A paused and thought of what to say next, "Wow. That's... really sad. I'm sorry Z."

"It's okay. I've gotten better."

"No, it's not okay. But it can be. How about you meet me tomorrow at the same place and same time, and I'll take you somewhere else?"

"Sure. Then you can tell me your story."