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Abigail Goodfellow

Making up her own words

3 posts in this topic

Regrets were a thing Abby didn't like to think about too much. They weren't real things, as far as she was concerned, and were just a person's reaction to an event or situation or feeling. Okay so maybe they were a thing, but she'd never really expected herself to be a person who had regrets. Apologetic for certain actions? Sure. But never regrets. And yet, after running away from a surprise kiss and spending the entirety of the winter holidays trying to sort through the mess that was her own mind, Abby realized she was a person with regrets. 

 

It kind of sucked. 

 

Abby regretted running away after the kiss with Trish. Abby regretted not talking about it, or reaching out to the girl sooner. Abby regretted letting the prospect of captaining the last game get in the way of actually discussing this stuff with Trish. Pretty much, Abby regretted taking the coward's way out. Trish was a good friend, always had been despite minimal interactions outside of the Quidditch Pitch, and the fact that she hadn't told anyone about the mess that was Abby's first non-orchestrated, non-theater kiss. Well, that was kind of a big deal to the rainbow-haired girl.

 

So she'd reached out to Trish, hoping the girl didn't shove her away for being a bit of an insensitive cad (after all, Trish was affected by the kiss too, right? Abby kind of hoped so, so she didn't feel stupid for thinking about this too much). Trish had agreed to meet with her by the lake, which meant Abby was there five minutes before she'd told Trish to meet her there, fidgeting a bit with the charm bracelet she'd gotten from Diane for Christmas.

 

Even if Trish didn't want to pursue anything past the kiss (did Abby want to? How did someone find out if there was something worth pursuing behind a kiss? What if it had just been a spur of the moment, hormone-induced thing that wasn't supposed to be more? Abby still wasn't sure what her own motivations were for being a part of the kiss, much less what the damn thing meant), Abby wanted to talk to her, wanted to open up to her and trust her. Because she needed to, and Trish was, really, the most sensible choice considering. So long as the other girl didn't hate her for her previous actions anyways. 

 

"Trish, hi!" she said, her voice maybe a little higher than usual when she saw the girl approaching her. "How're you?" Was Abby being terribly awkward? She felt like she might be, which sucked because Abigail Grace Goodfellow was not normally an awkward individual. Who even was she anymore? 


Edited by Abigail Goodfellow

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Coming from a family with so many expectations for what she'd accomplish, Trish tried her best not to dwell too much on her own shortcomings. Doing so only served to make her feel worse about something she couldn't really control. How could she look towards the future if she kept thinking about how she'd messed up the past.

 

And Trish had messed up a lot.

 

She hadn't been prepared for messing things up with Abby, though. While she'd realized that she'd been harboring feelings for her fellow Slytherin, Trish had not planned on acting on them, out of fear of rejection. It was one thing to be teasing and flirty during practice or a game, with the safety of being able to fly off if things got too awkward. But kissing the other girl in the library, with the only means of escape a hasty retreat into the bowels of the castle, Trish had no defense against that. 

 

To make things worse, they hadn't exactly been able to avoid each other. There was still the match with Hufflepuff to contend with, forcing Trish to actually interact with Abby. She'd thought asking if she could sit the game out, but that would mean having to answer some very awkward questions later. So she'd sucked it up and played, even if she felt like she wanted to go back to bed and hide under the covers.

 

Now she was going to meet Abby at the lake, having been asked to talk by the girl in question. Feeling like she'd been handed an olive branch, Trish asked if she could bring the drinks this time, remembering how Abby had gone through the trouble when they'd agreed to a study session in the library. 

 

She wasn't quite as familiar as some of her peers with muggle trends, but she'd heard of a colorful confection that sounded like it'd be something Abby would enjoy. The house elves had been eager enough to attempt to make the drink for her, and she couldn't help but to admire their work as she slowly made her way down to the lake. The colors that swirled in the clear cup she'd procured reminded her of Abby's hair, and she smiled. 

 

"Hi," she said, a little breathless as she reached Abby. Trying to fight the urge to run, she held out the colorful frappuccino. "For you. I'm not sure why the muggles associate it with unicorns, but it looks pretty." Like you, she wanted to say, but bit back the urge to do so. If Abby had asked her here to break her heart, she'd rather it not be more awkward than it had to be.


Edited by Devlin P. Whitehorn

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It had definitely been difficult, trying to remain casual while also harboring confusion and ... well, really that was it. Abby had just been thoroughly confused about what the kiss had meant for her and Trish, or if it even had to mean anything. It was official, though, Abby was going to boycott those Muggle movies where these things always seemed so simple. They were not simple at all. They were disastrously complicated and confusing and Abby was not emotionally equipped for this at all.

 

But she had to deal with it eventually, and sooner was better than later. She didn't think she could continue to look at herself in the mirror if she continued to be a coward about this. She glanced down at the frappuccino Trish held out to her, a wide smile threatening to break out on her face. Abby didn't know if she was allowed to, so it faltered a little as she tried to keep it at a relatively casual level. "Thanks!" she said happily, taking the cold drink from Trish and cupping both hands around it. The drink, one that she and Finch had tried over the summer, was overly sweet and fantastically colorful, so naturally it was one of Abby's favorites. She hadn't told Trish that, but she supposed her rainbow hair was enough to hint that something like this was popular with Abigail Goodfellow.

 

Still, the fact that it was the drink Trish brought her was sweet and it made something inside Abby swoop in a way she wasn't familiar with. Puberty could truly suck it. It was the worst.

 

"I, um, I guess I should explain why I asked you to come out here today," she started, shifting her weight between her feet. She had never been the girl who had a problem sharing her experiences or feelings, but the attacks and the subsequent reactions she had had sort of diminished that openness. Long story short, this was hard and she really hoped she didn't mess it up somehow. 

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