"Sorry, I should pay more attention to what I say. And yeah, there's nothing really to do about it. It just puts me on edge. I go from being invisible one week to the spotlight the next. Just doesn't sit right…. Sorry, I should probably leave you to your lunch.” By now they were in the lunchroom, sitting at one of the smaller tables where nobody was likely to hear them over the typical lunchroom buzz of numerous conversations. Liza listened pensively as Thomas spoke, sucking on the inside of her cheek. Had she sounded hurt before? Why was he apologizing so much? She slightly frowned without turning to him—pulling out her pudding cup and a plastic spoon.

“You’ll get used to it,” she scoffed, shaking her head. “And I’d rather you just say what you mean without trying so hard not to offend me…. I’m not just some delicate flower that’s gonna break down crying if you don’t think my hair is pretty, y'know?” 

She wanted to say more. She wanted to tell him she truly didn't care what he thought, so it didn't really matter what he said. And that she didn’t want his pity. She wanted to tell him to stop acting so high and mighty like he never laughed at a Loose Liza joke before or just sat by complacently as people shamelessly spread outrageous lies and rumors about her. She had little faith in the quiet boy's ability to stand up to most of the loud, raucous pricks Liza dealt with on a weekly basis. But this was normal for her. 

People are always the picture of benevolence when they’re talking to your face. Was sympathizing with her Tom’s good work of the day? Jesus must be [i]so proud.[/i]

“I know people talk shit about me and I stopped caring a looooong time ago,” she sighed, placing a spoonful of pudding onto her tongue. “I’d be more worried about what you’re going to say to those inspectors when they come busting through your door.” 

She pointed her spoon at him, “Or what people around here are going to say to [i]them[/i]—not each other.”

If the police can’t find enough evidence right away—it’s the rumors that are going to tie them to that suspect list. Liza knew this… and honestly? For the first time in a long time she felt frightened of something other than the dark. After what happened between Sierra and Liza, she was never sure exactly which version of the story prevailed…. But if it was the one she was thinking of, she could be in some trouble. She blinked a couple times, realizing she’d just zoned out for a few seconds there and shoved more pudding into her mouth. 

“You were her friend, right?” she glanced at him suddenly, “You’ll probably be fine. It’s not like you’ve got anything to hide.”