"Elizabeth." The boy with the dark brown hair, and warm eyes called out to her.
It was simple, classic, old. It was her name. But Elizabeth Sutton hated everything her full name stood for. It was everything from her childhood, everything she didn't want in her future.
Elizabeth was the name her father called when he wanted her to work harder, take more tests, hack more sites. Elizabeth was the name her father always used when he was lecturing her about striving for greater things, more power. But she had been doing as much as she could, she had all the power she had ever wanted. 'Elizabeth,' her father often called in an exasperated southern drawl 'you can't take a break. No, you have to keep working to achieve more.' She didn't tell him that she stayed up into the wee hours of the working, perfecting her skills.
The school children call her Elizabeth. The only connection the little boys and girls of her small rural town made with the name was with a small, shy girl who aced all her tests and was smarter than her teachers but sat in the corner during recess, a small trail of tears rolling down her face. Elizabeth meant nothing to them. She had no friends, no social life. But Elizabeth wanted friends. She wanted to prance around with the girls in sparkly blue dresses, and the boys that always had dirt on their face. She wanted to dance, and she wanted to sing like she'd seen all her classmates do on the playground.
'Elizabeth!' her father once exclaimed when she joined MENSA. It was a proud moment in her life, and her father had for once, showed some pride in her. But the moment was gone as soon as it came. She saw the other kids celebrate with sweet, sticky ice cream when they got a praising report from a teacher. Elizabeth didn't even get ice cream on her birthday, although she dream of tasting the crisp sweetness of the treat.
One day. Elizabeth was the name her father called the day that the agents came to recruit her into Gallagher. The name he used was monotone, and it held little emotion- but even then she couldn't make out what emotion his voice held. It didn't sound proud, or sad, or happy, or excited for his darling girl. It sounded there. She remembers the day she left her little Alabama home. Her father gave her a quick hug and a pat on the shoulder and said, in the way he always talked to her, 'Elizabeth, you can do so much better. If only you worked more.' With a sad smile gracing her father's face she was gone. As she walked out the door, she knew in her heart, that this was all she ever wanted. Going to a school for the exceptionally gifted. Maybe she would make friends who would dance and sing with her. Maybe she would make friends who told her how great her work was, and how she worked herself too hard. Maybe she would have her first taste of ice cream. Elizabeth.
Elizabeth was the name her mother always called her when she wanted her daughter to try on the new, frilly, pink dress she had bought. The little girl stood in the mirror, and smiled at her mother but the little girl hated pink. And she hated tool. And she hated dresses that she couldn't play around in, the ones that were always paired with tights and little pink shoes that squeezed her toes too tight.
'Elizabeth,' her mother shushed her sweetly as she sobbed 'your father just wants the best from you. You don't want to be stuck in a little Alabama town, being a dentist like your mamma and pappa now do you?' The sobbing girl who wiped her tears agreed with her mother, but didn't tell her that maybe she would like to be a dentist. Maybe she would like to live in a small Alabama town with her little sister, and scold people about their poor dental hygiene. It was important for her parents, so why couldn't it be important for her too?
'Oh, Elizabeth!' Her mother exclaimed once when her daughter told her that she wanted to learn how to play the piano, and braid people's hair just like her mamma. For once, her mother had been excited, and happy. She still liked doing people's hair, but prefered to sing over playing the piano. She never told her mother, even though she would understand. Her mother still got tears in her eyes when she would play a short melody, and so Elizabeth kept playing. As a silent 'I love you.'
'Elizabeth, darling.' Her mother would say when her little girl tripped over cables, and wires, and even once managed to trip over a piano bench. The little blonde would just giggle with a big smile, as her mamma shook her head fondly. Her mother always thought that her sweet child was doing it on purpose, and was hilarious, but Elizabeth was just naturally clumsy.
'Elizabeth, honey, are you sure?' Her mother sounded personally offended when her little girl, in a glittery pink tutu of her mother's choice, told her that she didn't want a birthday party. That all of her friends were busy. Her mother never realized that Elizabeth had no real friends. Just the ones who said hello when her mother made Elizabeth roll down the window and greet them when they passed.
'Elizabeth! You're going to be such a fine girl someday, all dainty like the princess you've always wanted to be!' her mother squealed as she left for the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. Elizabeth, now a highly intelligent young lady who was not (thank the heavens) in any glittery pink getup of any kind, didn't bother to tell her mother that she thought that she was already a fine girl, and that she could never be dainty because she was too busy swatting and screaming at spiders as she tripped over her own feet. And most of all, she didn't tell her golden haired mother that she never wanted to be a princess, of any kind. She wanted to be behind a computer, with numbers and algorithms where, for once she felt like she could be herself. Elizabeth.
But finally what pained her the most, was when her darling sister, whom she cared about more than anyone else in the world, choked the name out mid-sob. It was the day she was leaving. Her father already told her his well wishes, and her mother already said her little goodbye. But Ellie, little sweet Ellie, hair in a short bob and a little pink bow that used to belong to her older sister, clung to Elizabeth's clothes. She begged her to stay, and then asked if she could come with her. Elizabeth shook her head sympathetically, but Ellie was already set on joining her sister. 'Elizabeth,' her sister cried out and buried her face in Elizabeth's shirt in one last, feeble attempt to stop her. 'Elizabeth I love you, I love you so much. I wish you could stay.' At that point, there were tears streaming down the older girls face as she hugged her sister and kissed her on the cheek. 'Ellie, I love you too. More than you'll ever know. Don't worry, Els. I'll be back for winter! It'll come quicker than you know it.' Ellie smiled at this and with one last squeeze they parted ways. When she was at the door, Elizabeth spun around. Her sister had wiped her tears away, although her nose was still tinged red. She smiled, 'See you later, Liz.'
And that's when Elizabeth decided she was not going to be Elizabeth anymore. That she hated it. It stood for her past, for everything she couldn't be (in terms of her father), and everything she didn't want to be (in terms of her mother.) And most of all, it represented leaving. Leaving the past, leaving what she hated, but saddest of all, leaving the one person she still loved. And when she heard her sister utter the name Liz, she knew that's who she wanted to be. The girl who did what she loved, and didn't change herself for anyone. The girl who still screamed at spiders, but the girl who ate ice cream. The girl who danced with her friends, but were also supported by them. The girl who loved, and was loved back. Liz was everything she wanted, everything she now had.
And then the boy was there. With dark brown hair that was shortened to a buzz cut and dark eyes that were framed by dark glasses. His lanky figure stepped closer to her as he said her name. 'Elizabeth.' And he changed the meaning of the word for her. Always insisting on calling her by her full name, she now associated it with life and whirlwinds and dancing to soft music while laughing because they kept trampling each other. It was when he won her a teddy bear and the carnival and they kissed at the top of the ferris wheel. It was him, always supporting her and holding her when she cried. It was him working alongside her, making sure their friends in the field were doing okay. It was him saying her name the way he always said her name, slow and purposeful, filling her with warmth and safety. And it was him, saying her name with such emotion and passion that it made her head go dizzy, and her knees go weak. It was him always looking at her like she was the greatest thing he'd ever seen when he said her name. It was him, arms warm and inviting, as he said it. 'Elizabeth,' as smooth as honey, slow and sweet. 'I love you, Elizabeth.'
And then she wanted to always, and forever be Elizabeth. To him, at least.
Hello, there! Congrats on finishing Elizabeth, I hope you enjoyed it.
I recently reread the Gallagher Girls Series, and absolutely fell in love with it. Again. And then I decided to write some fanfiction!
This is something I'm just doing for a bit of fun, and this is the first story I'm writing so it isn't as expected, too great.
But I still hoped you enjoyed reading it! It was a whirlwind to write... the idea came to me one night and although
I've seen many Cammie, Bex, and Macey fics I haven't seen too many about Liz so this was great. I always loved the idea of
Liz having a father who pushed her, and a mother who wanted her to be a southern princess. And I've also loved exploring the
relationship between Liz and her little sister, Ellie. Maybe I'll do a fic more on that. I also wanted to explore the idea of loving her
friends when she didn't have many as a child, and along the way I thought of other things she might of missed. Like ice cream.
I based the boy in the story off Jonas, and so the characteristics portrayed are meant to be of him, but really I'm not going to
put a name on him so it can be anyone you'd like.
Although it may not be great, I'm still proud of this work and it would mean the world to hear your thoughts! And also other
fic ideas you may want to see from me :)
Until another time,
E x
(Usually disclaimers are put in at the beginning of a story, it is a disclaimer after all, but I thought I'd at it to the end: All rights for the characters and settings go to
Ally Carter. I don't own anything accept the idea for this story!)