Back To You ~ (Cazzie Fanfic)

Progress

God help me this thing is getting so long. 

Everyone still into this? We've got some big things coming up in a couple chapters. 

Comments and likes appreciated

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Izzie stares at the half page of carefully written notes. Her econ professor is taking longer than usual to get to the point, which is already longer than any other teacher she's ever had. She sighs. This class is too easy! She could probably teach it herself. The University of Connecticut isn't as rigorous as UCLA which, honestly, wasn't as rigorous as Clayton Prep. Of course all of them blew the community college she had attended sophomore year out of the water. But at least she'd paid practically nothing to get the rest of her core classes out of the way. And she'd lived at home so didn't have to pay for housing or food. Not any more than she ever had, anyway. The thought of that year back at home made her shudder.

Coming back home, moving back into the apartment she'd waited so long to leave, had been one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do. Her mother's gloating look of satisfaction as Izzie walked through the front door had made her want to vomit. But then Gabby had been there, looking pale and thin. Izzie had wrapped her in a huge hug and Gabby had sobbed, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" into her shoulder until Izzie had shushed her comfortingly and told her everything would be ok. Then Dylan, now almost as tall as she was, had come to lean in the doorway, making grim eye contact with Izzie over their sobbing sister. His expression broadcast his relief... and also just how hard her 9 months away had been on them. Izzie had been worried that Gabby wouldn't be able to fill her shoes. It's not that Gabby wasn't competent enough... it's just that it was impossible, for any kid. Izzie still wasn't sure how she'd been able to do it for so long. It had taken just as big a toll on her as it had on Gabby, just in different ways. She preferred not to think about it.

In her more honest moments now Izzie can admit that the writing was on the wall long before she even left for UCLA. She had known when she did the quick math subtracting her scholarship amount from the total cost of tuition, housing and transportation. The number was so much bigger than she'd imagined. Izzie had always been excellent at math. So she had quickly worked out approximately what her total debt would be after 4 years, taking into account the interest rate on her loan. It just didn't make sense. Sure if she had a supportive family... or a family that she wasn't supporting... she could spend the next decade of her life paying off the debt. Because, let's be honest, she was going to have a well-paying job. She'd make sure of that. But all the loan payments would be money she wouldn't have to help Gabby get a car, or help Dylan and Chloe with college... to support her grandma when she got too old to work. It didn't make sense. But she'd tried to do it anyway. She had to try. For Casey. Hadn't she promised to never leave her again?

By the time she'd let herself fully acknowledge that she wasn't going back for sophomore year it had been too late to enroll at the local community college. So she'd spent the semester tutoring for a family she'd met through her recurrent summer camp counseling job. Then she'd spent the summer working and taking summer classes, making up for the semester she'd missed. Izzie had also spent it getting her family back on their feet. Gabby had been just a shell of herself, so lost in a clinical depressive episode and a budding substance abuse issue that she'd stopped eating and going to school. The school had called Child Protective Services and they were threatening to take the kids away again. Never one to rise to a challenge Sasha had reacted by blaming Gabby for everything and relapsing, again, pouring gasoline on an already roaring fire. Izzie's grandma had done what she could, and even moved in for a while, but she was already paying for half their rent and after working long hours at her friend's restaurant she was exhausted and ready to collapse at the end or each day. She often fell asleep in front of the tv at night with her swollen feet on the coffee table, half folded laundry on her lap and Chloe snuggled into her side.