Disclaimer: I do not own Blacklist
Lizzie. The best way to describe her? She was just "that girl." Her father was "the cool dad." Her boyfriend was "the hottest guy in school." Her dad, Red to her friends, was rich and eternally knowledgeable. He knew everything about anything, and liked to do things himself. Her boyfriend, Tom, was what girls called "a fixer upper." He was, thin but had muscles, tall, gorgeous, but rough around the edges. He got in fist fights regularly, his rough edges catching those of others. He got bad grades but she always made sure he passed his classes. They took all the same classes and, while she was a model student, he contributed nothing and copied her work regularly. Her best friend, Donald was easily the second hottest guy in school. Tall, muscular, he was captain of the football team. He was strong, and buff, and big, but while his build made him appear to be the perfect football star stereotype, his grades told a different story. While he did lead the team to victory more often than not, his grades came first, and he aspired to help people: his heart was bigger than his muscle. It was their last year of high school, and Lizzie's limited friends had given her space to focus all her attention on school. Tom however, had only become more protective. He was, however, not the kind of guy to end a fight. He was quick to start one but was just as quick to let Lizzie finish them. Donald was usually quick to defend Lizzie but she could handle herself. Agile, she always bested her opponents, usually without injury to herself. She would turn and walk off, Tom trailing behind her shooting smirks over his shoulder at the losers. For the first time, Tom had intentionally patronized Donald, wanting to see where Lizzie's true loyalty lay. He and Donald dented lockers and broke the benches in the men's locker room before Lizzie, against her better judgment, appeared. The other boys, all still in the process of changing, shouted at her and hurried to cover themselves. She separated the two, but when it appeared the larger boy, Donald, was not going to stop, she punched him hard in the gut. He staggered, his eyes conveyed hurt beyond the physical pain as he fell to his knee. Smirking over her shoulder, Tom was pleased. In one last attempt to take Tom down a notch, Donald threw a wild left hook. Unfortunately, Tom's reflexes were no match to Lizzie's and while he ducked in time, she did not. The two boys rushed her to the nurse who immediately called Red. He arrived shortly, a frown etching his features. "Lizzie." He said in a stern voice. Tom shrank into the plushy chair he was in. Donald's hands were clenched in his lap so tightly the knuckles had turned paper white.
"Sorry dad." She said meekly.
"Can I have a moment?" He asked the nurse. She looked worried but consented. Tom and Donald shared a look, both wondering if they too should leave.
"You three. Fisticuffs?" Red asked looking hard at the three of them.
"He started it." Donald growled looking scathingly at Tom. Red had always wished Lizzie would date someone better, someone like Donald, a good kid, smart, athletic, and not a miscreant like Tom. Lizzie was looking down, trying not to cry despite the throbbing pain in her right eye.
"Which one of you hit my daughter?" Red asked, eyes narrowing between the two boys.
"He did." Said Tom, eager to get the blame off himself.
"I was trying to hit him!" Said Donald urgently.
"Muscle head can't hit the broad side of a barn." Mumbled Tom. He shrank further into his chair with a threatening look from both Red and Lizzie.
"Lizzie, I thought I taught you better." Red said frowning at his daughter. He had taught her how to defend herself, wanting her to be able to do things herself, as he had. Lizzie nodded sadly; she should have been paying attention. "Tom, stop fighting with Lizzie's friends or you will find your secrets coming to light." Red looked at Tom with a threatening glare. Tom at, least had the sense to flush and look down at his shoes. "And Donald, if you ever hit my daughter again I will end you." Red gave Donald his most terrifying smile, the one he reserved for only those who posed a threat to his little girl. Saying things like that, cliché, Red felt like he was acting a little out of character, but things like this, with Lizzie, he became a different person. She was that way around everyone. Tom was better for her, Donald was protective of her, all the girls in their high school tried to act cool around her, and all the guys tried to impress her. She was beautiful, smart, funny, kind, rich, she was perfect. Red gave them each one last look before standing, collecting his coat and hat, and leaving. The three of them looked quite shamed when the nurse returned, ushering them back to class. Lizzie, who assured the nurse she did not have a concussion, but promised to come straight back if she showed any symptoms, walked to class with Tom.
"Please stop getting into fights." She said for the zillionth time. Tom was silent. "It gets us both into trouble." She continued.
"I'm always in trouble Lizzie." Tom laughed harshly. The rest of the short walk to their class was silent and they shared few words the rest of the day. Lunch was supremely awkward, Donald having made a scene of sitting with the football team instead of his usual place next to Lizzie. Lizzie had tried to look as if it hadn't bothered her but it had, she was quite distraught the rest of the day and therefore said nothing to anyone aside from Tom.
Tom had offered to walk her home three times but she insisted she wanted to walk home alone, giving her time to think. He finally gave in and went to find Donald. Locating the big blond boy was easier than he expected, and when he finally had a clear path to him he took a running head start. Colliding with the larger boy, Tom knew instantly he had not thought this through. Surrounded by the rest of the tram, he had no chance of winning. "So we got in a fight, doesn't mean you take it out on her." Tom snarled.
"What?" Donald asked giving his teammates a look that said not to attack.
"Lizzie was heartbroken the way you treated her." Tom said narrowing his eyes, as if the meat head were that obvious. Maybe he really was that blind, maybe Tom had been overestimating his abilities the whole time. He was silent so Tom decided his job was done. Of course he couldn't simply walk away so he took a swing at Donald who let himself be hit. Not wanting to wait around to question it, Tom turned and walked away. He walked for a long time, his bag growing heavier with every step until he finally stopped. Looking up at the house he had stopped at he realized it was Lizzie's. Sighing he slunk up to the house. He slipped up the side of the house and into her open window. Dropping his bag on her desk chair, he flopped down on her fluffy bed. Tom's eyes slid shut as a smile crept on his face, he loved the way her room smelled: perfectly overwhelmingly of Lizzie.
Waking instantly at the sound of her bedroom door opening he leapt off the bed and hoped the person on the other side of the door was his beloved. Her slim form stepped into the room, one hand on the bag of frozen peas covering half her face. She, of course, knew instantly he was there, he was always there when she got home from school. "I made snacks." She said producing a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in her other hand.
"I'm starving." Tom said eagerly grabbing a sandwich. It was just a normal day. Red was downstairs talking to their driver Dembe, Lizzie had left her bag downstairs and brought up food she'd prepared for Tom. Tom leaned out the window and looked at the sky, its crystal clear blue shining brightly only interrupted by occasional fluffy white clouds. He finished his first sandwich, turning to look at Lizzie who had sat down on her bed. He was just about to bring up a topic when her phone rang. Of course, it was Donald, always interrupting Tom when he was with Lizzie, because it was such a painfully normal day. Tom wanted something different, and he was surprised to get it when she ignored the call. Maybe it wasn't a normal day, maybe it was a wonderful, perfect, sunshiny, day full of fisticuffs, and normal, adorable, perfect young love. A smile spread across Tom's face.