woman (cazzie oneshot)

woman

       

"Should we just search romantic comedies on Netflix and then see what we find?"

Casey asked Izzie as the other girl sprawled herself onto the Gardners' couch. It was a hot summer afternoon and both girls were having their weekly sleepover. Things weren't that good at home for Izzie, so the girls made a pact to have a weekly escape from the rougher things in life with each other. For Izzie, the Gardners' were home away from a broken home. Her stepdad still hasn't changed (it's not like he ever would), and her mom always takes his side instead of her own daughter's. For Casey, Izzie was a refuge from the underlying battles she fought with the copious amounts of attention Sam got, and the lack of it on her receiving end. Izzie was the one person who made her feel like it was just the two of them and nothing else mattered. Maybe Evan did too. But ever since the night of her birthday party, Casey just couldn't shake her mind off some things.

I'm selfish, I know. But I don't ever want to see you with him.

Ever since the forehead promise, Izzie couldn't stand seeing Casey with Evan. Whether it was talking, hugging, or kissing, she despised any contact the girl made with her boyfriend. Scratch that—ever since the day she cut off Casey when she thought Nate was someone he wasn't, her thoughts kept rambling on about the Newton track star. The way her hair smelled, how strong her arms were, how close she was to kissing—

I'm selfish, I know. I told you, but I know you never listen.

Izzie always told herself it would never happen. Casey had a boyfriend, albeit a somewhat gross one. But still, Evan grew on her and she realized how he is everything Casey could ever need. Izzie isn't that. She beats herself up for even letting her thoughts wander to places they shouldn't, places a best friend usually wouldn't arrive to. But she lets them anyway. Late at night when her stepdad won't shut up and her siblings are yelling in the next room, Izzie takes a deep breath and thinks about what it would be like to touch Casey. Touch her in ways she shouldn't even think about, in ways best friends don't. But it feels so right to think about kissing her neck and letting her hand creep up her thigh, and—

I hope you can see, the shape that I'm in while he's touching your skin.

"Yeah, that works."

"What's up, Iz?"

"Nothing."

But nothing is something. Nothing is always something, especially for a girl like Izzie. Every single time she sees Casey, she pictures the moment she kissed Evan that night. With all the love in the world. All the love in the world that Izzie would never get from her best friend. She felt selfish. Evan knew Casey before she did, hence the connection, but she couldn't help but feel a searing jealousy burn through her every time she'd think of him. How his man hands and unkept hair didn't deserve Casey. How a woman like her needed someone who understood her and knew how to please her. The problem is, Evan Chapin is exactly that. Evan Chapin is exactly everything Casey needs and wants. Izzie isn't that. Not broken home, almost broke Izzie.

He's right where I should, where I should be, but you're making me bleed.

"Casey, there's something I need to tell you."

"What is it, Izzie? You're worrying me."

Without thinking twice about her decision—about how it could ruin everything, about how it could create the greatest love the world will ever witness—Izzie haphazardly puts her head on the sweet creature beside her's forehead, and she feels hot tears sting her eyes. She wasn't supposed to cry, neither was she supposed to break character like this. She was supposed to be strong for herself and Casey. She knew she wouldn't be able to take it if Casey ever knew, and she wasn't sure if Casey would be able to either. But sometimes some things feel so right, and in this moment, this is what Izzie felt the strongest about.