HARPER:
.
To be honest, Harper wasn’t exactly sure why her middle school yearbook was here. Her dad took over the yearbook storage duties when she went to college. Plus, she hated everything about middle school so why she would hold onto it, she didn’t know. Making a mental note of where in the house it was to inspect further, and then quickly burn the evidence of her tragic hair, amused eyes fell back onto Izzy. “God the split ends were so bad. I’m honestly so surprised I have any hair left after how many products my mother put in it.” Scoffing a bit, she picks up a box. “I wish mine didn’t exist. Some things you don’t need to remember forever y’know?”
❀
Izzy wishes she could say that she wished they didn’t exist. While no one should see the phases of Izzy that were before she understood makeup or why blue roll-on eyeshadow wasn’t for everyone. However, the fact is that she wishes that she didn’t have an estranged family that definitely wanted nothing more than to not think of her or the decisions she would make a few years after middle school graduation. But she also kind of hates them for that too. “Mine was mainly just trying to have scrunchy hair and then stick straight hair and then curled all within like five minutes or something,” she explains. Products weren’t always available to Izzy, unless she stole them from her older sister or mother. And even then, they weren’t exactly using heat protection. “Oh yeah, of course I know. I mean, you met Ethan. And high as fuck Izzy,” she smirks. Maybe she shouldn’t brush off those issues like she does but it’s her only means of survival sometimes.








