[x] sweet

Lind prefers lollipops. Derek learns this the first time that he accompanies her and Emma to the park. She likes to slip them into her mouth, sucking until her tongue is stained with bright, artificial colours. Then she sticks it out at whoever's around and Emma shrieks with delighted laughter and pulls at her sleeves, her jacket until she relents and digs into the secret stash in her pockets. She's never without them, and always willing to give them away to children at the park because for all her abrasive tones and cutting jibes at school, she's sweet. Like candy. 

[x] snapshots; silence

He's taking the shortcut through the park home when he sees her. Her eyes are closed, one earbud in, her fingers tapping. He's curious so he sits down, slipping the other earbud in. Nothing. She cracks an eye at him, smirking. She tugs the cord from her pocket, unattached to anything; her fingers tap to a beat that only she can hear. He likes that so he stays, listening to nothing. When the sun disappears, she takes it back from him and stands. He watches a little girl detach herself from the playground, skipping over to take her hand and leave. 

[x] snapshots; long distance

The coins slip from her fingers into the slot and she punches Derek's number in. It's a long while before he picks up; she realises with a jolt it must be past 2AM for him. It's easy to imagine messy hair, half-mast eyes when his sleep roughened voice finally answers. "'lo?" 

She laughs, high, nervous, edged with something unidentifiable. "I'm at a beach somewhere." 

When she starts thinking he's fallen back asleep because he hasn't said anything, he says abrupt but soft, "Take care of yourself." 

"Yeah." She says, because there's nothing else, and breathes until the call runs out. 

[x] snapshots; fight

"C'mon." Derek holds out a hand. "Let's go home." 

"Yeah." After what seems an age she swipes her hand over her forehead and takes his hand. 

She doesn't miss the way his eyes track the movement; the shadow in them tells her she must be smeared with blood. This is the moment that will haunt them both for years. For a split second, Lind sees herself as he must: thin and bleeding, fingernails ripped jagged; feral. He looks like he might be sick but he doesn't shake or flinch from her as he leads her away. They don't look back. 

[x] snapshots; secrets

"Wanna know something," she says. It's not a question so Derek just breathes dust. Lind refuses to roll up her window when she drives. 

"Emma isn't really my sister."

Emma is almost thirteen years younger than her. Derek plays dolls with her sometimes when Lind wants to smoke out the back. 

Lind jerks them over to the side of the road and cuts the engine. "Mum knows this woman - Abby. It could be Abby or Abigail. She calls me Bel." There's something dark and hateful in the back of her voice when she continues. "Only my dad calls me Bel." 

[x] snapshots; thin

It's months before he notices the way her skin stretches tightly over the bones of her wrist. Her fingers, wrapped around her illegal cigarette, are almost pale, in spite of her tan. 

She breathes smoke out. "What?" 

Her clothes are layered and baggy; her body drowns in them, mysterious. He reaches over and touches her side, trying to feel where fabric ends and she begins. 

She drops the cigarette and smacks his hand away. "Don't," she says sharply, angry. She walks away, disappearing into the crowds on the streets. 

He watches the cigarette burn out. He never sees her eat. 

[x] snapshots; beginnings

It's a Tuesday. She shows up with tiny plastic butterfly clips in her hair, chewing cinnamon gum and calls him Dick. Not even twenty minutes into class. Just leans right over into his personal space, jabs him in the chest and says, "If you fuck anything up, I'll end you, Dick." 

His name isn't Dick, it's Derek. And if she meant it as an insult, he's offended by the implied capital letter. He's a pretty decent guy. 

On Wednesday she comes to school with pigtails and speaking in Spanish. She's sort of beautiful, in a really dysfunctional kind of way.