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When Allison dumped Scott after the trapped-in-school-with-a-murderer fiasco, Lydia sat with her all night over a tub of Phish Food and didn’t make fun of her for liking Cherry Garcia the best, despite the fact that putting fruit in chocolate was a fucking abomination. Lydia can remember, in a fuzzy soft-focus kind of way, that they’d settled under the down comforter on Allison’s bed with their makeup still on and fallen asleep curled into each other, murmuring stories and secrets and nothing until their eyes felt heavy. Before she drifted off, Lydia’d hazily offered to kill Scott on Allison’s behalf so that she wouldn’t have to see him at school the next day. Allison scrunched her nose up and smiled a real smile for the first time in hours, shaking her head from side to side and giggling, No.
After Jackson breaks up with her, Lydia gets a text from Allison that reads, “Hey, do you need me to kill him for you?,” and she wonders why it took so long to admit to herself that she is in love with her.
Lydia has phobia-driven obsessive-compulsive disorder and Allison is trying to be fearless. Somehow, they make it work.