FIVE.  SUMMER MEMORIES EAT ME ALIVE

There's a bitter taste in Lacy's mouth that's lingered ever since she was taken. It's gritty, almost metallic tasting, like blood's filling her mouth but not actually there. She tastes it when she swallows. It makes her gag. Sometimes she smells it. It takes over her life sometimes. She can't sleep because of it. It makes her cry. It appears whenever she thinks of the horrific tragedies she had to endure while being trapped in that room, her mouth sewn and arms shackled, or when she accidentally cuts herself and bleeds, or when she thinks about everything she was forced to leave behind and now forced to face again.

Lacy gets that bitter taste in her mouth when she thinks about volleyball.

She'd been playing the sport since seventh grade. She was tall even for a thirteen-year-old, one of the tallest on the team still yet, and Coach Loren thought she'd be a perfect placement. She was first, Kayla came second, Daphne was third. A perfect group of three. They were the popular girls: kind, good grades, star athletes. Lacy felt like she had the perfect life. She had all her ducks in a row. One day she'll ask God why he didn't answer her prayers in that room. God, it's me again. It's me again. It's me again. It's me again. It's me again. It's me again.

Their photos were put on display in a case in the hallway. Generations of Beacon Hills volleyball players before them. Lacy stares at herself in black and white, her full name written in black font: Lacy Sophia Austin. Sophia was her mom's name. Daphne stood between her and Kayla, their smiles reaching their ears, arms over each other's shoulders. It was a haunting photo. All of them so happy, so youthful. Lacy knew she'd never be that happy again. She'd never see those smiles again or feel those affectionate touches from her friends. All she had left were photos.

"Lacy Austin?"

She turned her head to the side and Lacy's eyes widened in shock. "Erica?"

Erica Reyes was a sweet girl. Always had been. She was quiet, shy, the kind that made her an easy target for mean people. She was an epileptic. She was bullied. Lacy always liked her even though they didn't speak often. Erica kept to herself because it was easier than having to listen to the nasty things people said about her. But now she stood in front of her tall, beautiful, and confident, wearing clothes Lacy never imagined her to wear. "Is that really you?" Erica voiced, looking her up and down.

Lacy slowly turned her body toward her. "Y-Yeah. Is that really you?" She reciprocated, taking in her outfit. "You look gorgeous."

The tall blonde grew a smile. "Thanks. I feel amazing."

"Guess I missed a lot," she mumbled, thinking that if Erica could change herself in such a drastic way that she truly had missed out on so much.

Erica's smile faded in the slightest. She walked closer to her, high heels tapping on the floor. "When did you get back?" Her voice became light.

Lacy wrapped her arms around herself. "I've been back for a while. It's my first day back at school," she answered quietly. "It's hard being back."

"It's hard being here in general. These people are the worst." Erica said with a slight smear. Her smile soon returned. "It's my first day back too, though. Well, the new me."

She furrowed her brows. "New you?"

"Hard to explain, but, you'll see eventually." The tall blonde started to walk by her but then she paused. She placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad to see you back," Erica spoke gently before strutting away down the empty hall toward the doors.

Lacy watched her still in shock. She suddenly heard the sound of running from behind her, causing her to turn around and she almost screamed when she came in contact with Stiles and Scott. "Whoa!"

"Oh my god!" Stiles screeched and slowed down, almost tripping over his own feet.

"Lacy, you scared us," said Scott.

"Scared you?" Lacy said back and placed a hand over her heart. "Jesus Christ."

"H-Have you seen Erica by any chance?" Stiles asked after catching his breath.

"Yeah, she just left. She went that way—" she pointed toward the doors only to get cut off by the boys flying past her, almost knocking her over. "Guys!"

"Sorry, Lacy!" Scott yelled over his shoulder as he and Stiles rush to the doors.

Lacy blinked multiple times. Her phone dinged in her pocket and she took it to, seeing that it was a text from her dad.

Daddy-O
fancy having lunch with me?

Lady stares at the bottom of her fast food bag, staring at the stray fries what had fallen out. She ate slowly, no longer having the appetite she did months ago. Her dad understood that though. He got her a small burger and small fries. He was different though. Sam ate like a pig, something he says he has the privilege of doing so. She chews on the end of a fry, swallowing painfully. It used to be a routine to them, Lacy and Sam to have lunch together. He'd always take his lunch break away from the station so they could eat together in his car. Lacy felt grateful he chose to continue that tradition on a day like today where she didn't have to go to the cafeteria. She couldn't take any more of the staring.

Samuel watches his daughter struggle to eat, her burger not yet eaten and her fries slowly disappearing. "If you don't want to go back, you don't have to back. I'll pull you out now if you want," he tells her once again, half of him wanting so badly for her to say yes. If she were to say yes, she would stay home and he'd never have to worry about her coming home or not. She'd be safe with him.

"Everybody knows I'm back, dad. It's too late," Lacy utters, taking her eyes off the bag and she looked into his. "It's not so bad."

His eyebrows went up. "No?"

"Not everybody looks at me like I'm a freak."

Samuel frowns. "You're not a freak, Lacy."

Lacy doesn't say anything else about it. "I talked to Scott and Stiles," she switches subjects, taking a bite of another fry.

At the mention, her father grew a smile. "Is that right? How are they?"

"As jumpy and weird as they've always been."

Sam chuckled. "That sounds about right." He quickly sipped his chocolate shake. "Stiles always asked me about you."

Lacy's face stills. "He did?"

Another sip. "I think he was in shock in the beginning. Everyone was, but, our families are close. He was always asking Noah for updates." Sam finished his burger. "I'm happy he talked to you."

The girl didn't speak for a couple minutes. She spaces out, listening to him sip the bottom of his shake and she hears the crumbling of paper. It hurts her ears like nails on a chalkboard. She doesn't feel herself barring her teeth so hard until they scrape together, then she finches and holds her jaw.

Sam quickly looked her way. "Sweetheart, sr you okay?" He placed a fatherly hand on the side of her cheek.

"I'm fine," she whispered and dropped her hand. Lacy turned her head towards the window and she eyed the school. "It's just not the same. I don't think it ever will be."

Her father frowned deeply. "Maybe school won't be the same, but home will be. I'll make it the same."

The girl she sees in the mirror is tired. Her eyes are sunken and purple, her cheeks hollow. Dry, cracked lips dotted with scars. Her lips were always dry no matter how much moisture she tried putting in them. Sometimes she picked at them and they'd bleed. It was a sense of familiarity to feel and see the blood. She raises a shaky hand to her lips and presses four fingers into the skin, slowly sinking them deeper. With tears in her eyes, she pulls her lip downward, feeling the pain and wincing when she draws blood.

There's a knock at her door.

Lacy flinches and drops her hands, widening her eyes at her reflection.

"Lacy, honey." It's her dad.

"Come in," her voice cracks.

Samuel opened the door and peeked his head inside. "Lacy, baby, someone's here to see you," he tells her.

Lacy furrowed her brows. She watched him open the door even further and step out of the way, revealing a familiar face. Red hair and green eyes. Pale skin. Beautiful. She releases a shaky breath. "Hi, Lacy."

She blinks, the tears in her eyes from before fall. "Hi, Lydia."

While everything in her life seemingly was changing, Lydia Martin remained the same. There's flashbacks to them at fifteen, summer nights spent in Lydia's pool and stealing her mom's cheap wine to drink it on the roof. Sleepovers and sleepless nights. Her guys bleed whenever she thinks about it. It lives in her bones and hurts every time she walks. Two girls who shared strawberry flavored lipgloss and pink nail polish. Braiding each other's hair and sharing clothes. They're girls. Young girls. Lacy wishes to hold onto those memories and yet the biggest one she remembers is that she was supposed to go to Lydia's house that night.

Lydia sits on her bed across from her, Lacy's legs criss crossed and she's slumped over like she's scared that she's there. Her hairs in a messy braid. She's in her pajamas. Lydia hasn't been in her house in so long that she forgot what her bedroom looked like. She forgotten was her voice sounded like. "I didn't see you today."

"Did you know I was there?" Lacy spoke quietly.

Lydia nodded. "Yeah, I heard. I think I was avoiding you."

She frowns. "I don't blame you." She meant it in more than one way. "I was considering not going at all."

Her hand feels cold against the bare skin of knee. "How long have you been back?" Lydia asks with rapid blinks.

Lacy's nails dig into her legs that are covered by pajamas pants. "A while," she answered truthfully.

"I always feel sick when I think about that first week."

"You and me both."

Lydia's eyes water. She fans them with her hand. "Do I ask all of what happened?" She wonders.

A pit formed in Lacy's stomach. "No," she whispers. She licks her dry lips. "Maybe someday, but not now." She watches Lydia gulp, emotions that she always did unleashing in her presence. "Hey, do you want to spend the night? It's a school night but I'm sure my dad won't mind."

Lydia's chest hurts at the hopeful expression that appears on her face. Her green eyes continue to cloud with tears. "I should be getting home," she mutters. She watches her frown. "But I'm so happy you're back, Lace. I'm so happy."

Lacy smiled shortly. She doesn't know how to respond anymore. Lydia leaves. They say goodbye but don't hug. Lady stares at the door after she closes it. She's left all alone again. All alone. All alone. All alone with photos of her dead best friends on the walls around her. Alone with reminders that she's here and they're not. These are the memories of being young she doesn't want to make. She closes her fists in tight balls, nails digging into her skin. She tells herself to let go. But she can't let go. I can't let go. I can't let go. How do I let go?