(no subject)

[shellies.livejournal.com]

for oneangrykate's 5 Things challenge. thanks to thepsychicclam for the once-over.

dedicated to captnobvious. rated PG.



i. Liv never thought it would be possible for her to be the one with the broken heart, but here she is, standing in her nicest dress and more miserable than before she had ever come to Kellerman’s. Looking over at her sister, though, she knows she isn’t the only one who came here one person and leave another.

She can’t bring herself to sing along, or even to join her family at the table. So she just stands and waits for this torture to end. Then she can go back home where she knows her place.

Her place.

Liv sighs, so stuck on that one thought that she barely hears the doors to the auditorium open.

When he pulls her from the corner, looking at her like he’s needed her all his life, she finally knows where she belongs.

ii. How she got into this mess, she’ll never be able to tell. She was supposed to be on a date, on a date with the coolest boy she knows, as a matter of fact. But instead, she’s here, on a subway for God’s sake, stuck with three of the most amazingly wonderful and yet, most infuriating children she’s ever known.

And did she mention she’s on the subway?

All Liv wants is the station wagon back and to be able to bring these kids home, safe, and not be held responsible for any possible lost cars or limbs or lives for that matter.

When Elijah rises from his seat, she’s not sure any of that is going to be possible.

It happens fast, too fast for her to react before the knife falls to the floor – Oh God, not the floor, Lij’s foot, and there goes lost limbs from the list – and it’s two parts fear and one part really-pissed-off that leads her to say, “Don’t. Fuck. With the babysitter.”

iii. It started out as a joke. Wouldn’t it be funny, just to stick it to that bitch, just once?

But now Liv is standing in her best friend’s kitchen, trying to figure out what to do with this bottle of detergent or cleanser or some shit, while said best friend is lying face-down in a pile of glass and vomit all over the pristine living room rug.

She drops her shaking hand from her mouth and runs it frantically through her hair, but Dom just looks at her and laughs.

iv. She’s tired of being that girl, that rich fucking pretty girl. She doesn’t only want to be known as that girl who had the best clothes or the best parties or the best hair – although she has to admit, she does have the best hair.

It’s not all she is, even though that’s what they’ll remember her for. Her high school legacy is to be that girl.

At least Liv knows that, for one boy, she’ll be that girl who kissed him and gave him a diamond. And hopefully Daddy won’t ever realize it’s missing.

v. Some might say she’s a masochist, and right now she’d have to agree. Stifling a sigh, Liv adjusts her stupid driver’s cap and drives, subtly ignoring anything that might be going on in the backseat.

Her words echo in her mind, “Don't go mistaking paradise for a pair of long legs”, but now she’s thinking she should have taken her own advice. Being Billy’s best friend has been far from paradise as of late, nice legs or no.

It’s only later that night, when he uses those legs to chase her down the street, - “Tyler!” - that she’ll understand what paradise really means.