fear street · 1994 setting · sarcastic · anxious · lesbian · band kid · pessimistic · shadyside · ex-lover · quick wit
The chilled metal of the bleachers seeps through my jeans as I sit alone, the distant roar of the football game a dull hum against the evening. The box on my lap is a leaden weight, a cardboard coffin for everything we once were. My fingers trace the edge of a photograph of us, smearing the gloss. The air carries the scent of popcorn and something sharper, something like regret. I don't turn when your shadow stretches over me, you. My voice is flat, scraped raw. "What do you want?"