Our Song (11 page)

“So, now that I’ve
finally
won something, what are we going to be playing next, Ms. Haines?”

Becca’s eyebrows come together, and her tongue barely sticks out as she thinks about what our next game should be. I can’t help but shake my head and grin. Sometimes I wonder if she can get any more adorable. But then a slow smile spreads over her entire face as she looks up at me. This is not a good sign.

“Ever shot a gun before?”

Chapter Fifteen

Becca

I still can’t believe Asher won. But, since he won, that means
I
get to choose what we’re doing for our next game. And there is no way Asher is going to beat me at what we are going to do this afternoon. He’s taking a long time to respond to me, so I bump his arm with my elbow, raising my eyebrows in question.

“Wow. Wasn’t expecting that question. No, I’ve never shot a gun before.”

Ooh, this is going to be good. “Well, then we’re going to go to the gun range and get our target practice on.”

Asher still looks a bit gun-shy, pun intended. “Well, I can’t foresee this happening, but if I win something by shooting a gun, I want you to come out with me tonight on a canoe for a bit of a midnight float out on the lake.”

I can feel the heat reaching my cheeks, along with my ears. A part of me already wants him to win…but another part of me is terrified. Although his actions have continued above and beyond just being a friend who feels sorry for me, his answer to my third question last night is still bothering me. He did come right out and say that he felt sorry for me. What if he really is just doing all of this because he’s pitying me? What if I am nothing more than a good friend to him? But what about that kiss? Could it really have been just a pity kiss? I thought we had a connection. It didn’t feel like pity in the heat of the moment, but maybe that was just my wishful thinking. If platonic friendship is all this is, I’m not sure I can keep doing this with him. But how could I stand to lose him?

Asher’s hand comes to rest on my cheek, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Becca, where did you go just now?”

“I…umm…I’m sorry. I just got stuck in my head for a minute there.” I shake my head, trying to get rid of the icky feelings I dredged up.

But Asher’s not about to let it go. “I’m serious, Becca. I want to know what you were thinking about. Remember last night when I told you that when you thought no one was looking, you looked like you were trapped inside yourself at school?”

I nod, unable to speak. Tears are pooling in my eyes again. “Well,” Asher begins again, “you had that look again, just now. And I never want to see it again. So please tell me where you went inside that pretty little head of yours, so I can make sure that look stays far, far away from your pretty face.”

I feel a tear escape, and quickly wipe it away, pulling away from Asher’s hand. “I really don’t want this afternoon to turn into a ‘poor me’ session.” Another tear begins to fall, but before I can even move, Asher’s hand is back, and he wipes it away with his thumb.

“Becca, this is not, nor has it ever been, a ‘poor you’ session. I care about you. I want to know what’s going on. And I want you to feel comfortable enough to tell me anything, no matter what it’s about.”

I sniffle, then take a deep breath, hoping to stifle the tears that are so desperately trying to break free of my eyelids. “I feel like I’m just being a big baby. And I don’t want to sound stupid.” I gulp in another big breath, hold it, then just blurt out, “Are you just being nice to me because you feel sorry for me?”

Asher stares at me in complete and utter shock. His eyebrows are raised high, his mouth slightly open, and he doesn’t move a muscle. “Wow. Okay then. Forget I asked.”

After shaking his head back and forth a few times, he looks me straight in the eye and asks, “Becca. What on
earth
would make you think that my actions towards you are because I feel sorry for you?”

I look back down toward my hands. “Well, last night, when I asked if you felt sorry for me…” I trail off, not really knowing what else to say to explain what I’m feeling.

His eyes widen in understanding. “That’s what that question was about the other night,” he almost whispers. Asher moves his other hand so he’s cupping both my cheeks. “Look at me, Becca.” I sigh, but do as he asked. “Just because I am sorry that you had to go through that shit with Trip does
not
have
anything
to do with how I feel about you. My actions, my words, my feelings towards you have
nothing
to do with what that douche did to you.” Asher wipes another tear away from my face. “Now my actions toward him on the other hand—”

“Nope. We’ve already had this discussion. You made a promise.”

“I know. But it doesn’t change how I feel about him.”

I peel both his hands from my cheeks, and hold them in my much smaller ones. I take one last deep breath to shake off the feelings, then squeeze his hands. “What do you say we start heading to the gun range? We’ll need to grab my dad, since I’m still under eighteen, so he can sign my release forms.”

Asher stands up, helping me get off the log as well. “Wait, your dad is going to be there too? This could be even more embarrassing than I anticipated.”

I laugh at him. “Don’t worry, he won’t be on the range with us. He just has to get me past the front desk. Unless, of course, you’d rather he taught you how to shoot a gun, instead of me.”

“Oh, no, no, no. That won’t be necessary.” He lets go of one hand, then tugs my other to get me walking with him back toward the cabin. “But maybe I should be asking this: are you sure you can teach me how to shoot a gun? I mean, I’m sure you’re more than capable of shooting, but can you really teach me, too?”

I shove him with my shoulder, and he almost trips. “Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t show a guy how to shoot. Besides, I am an excellent teacher of
all
things, as you should know.”

“Wow, remind me never to underestimate your teaching abilities again,” he says with a smirk on his face.

“Never underestimate my teaching abilities again, Asher,” I remind him in as serious a voice as I can muster.

He bumps my shoulder with his elbow. “You’re such a Smart Alec.”

I smile as I reply, “Don’t you mean Smart Becca?”

***

As we’re about to walk out the doors onto the shooting range, my dad calls out, “Don’t forget your hearing protection! And your safety glasses!”

I shake my head and smile at him. “We know, Dad. I’ve done this like a hundred times with you. Safety first. Always.”

“That’s my girl!” he says, throwing his fist in the air.

When we get outside, I can feel just how heated up my cheeks have grown from embarrassment via my father. Hopefully Asher just thinks it’s the change in temperature from the AC to the outdoors. When we get to the bench, I set the gun case and ammo on it and turn to Asher. “Alright. Before we do anything else, we’re going to put our safety glasses and earphones on. We don’t need to be losing any hearing, or eyeballs for that matter, today. And before you ask, yes, you will probably look like a dork. No, there is nothing you can do about it. Yes, getting to shoot a gun is
totally
worth looking like a dork.”

Asher laughs and says, “Well, okay then. I guess I better follow the rules,” causing me to laugh with him. He immediately puts his glasses on, followed by his headphones. Which immediately causes me to stop laughing. I know what I just said to him, but he definitely does not look like a dork. “What?” he practically yells. It’s nice to know his headphones are working.

I realize I must have been staring. “Nothing. You stay back here and watch while I shoot. Then I’ll teach you step by step after I’m done with my two clips of bullets,” I yell.

He gives me two thumbs up and takes a step back.

Then he surprises me when he shouts, “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid!”

What am I going to do with him?

-----

Asher

I’m seriously nervous about this. Not only is Becca an amazing shot, but I’ve never even held a gun, much less shot one.

I watch as Becca loads her second clip into the semiautomatic pistol. She spreads her feet with her knees slightly bent, aiming the gun out in front of her. When she leans forward before pulling the trigger, I can’t help but let my vision drift lower on her body…

Bang!
Oops. The first bullet out of the gun brings me out of my reverie. The second draws my attention to the target Becca is shooting at. By the time she finishes the clip, I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to do this. Even from this distance, I can see that Becca’s target is full of holes right around the bullseye.

“Alrighty, Asher. It’s your turn.” Becca sets the gun down on the bench, facing down range, then flicks the switch to pull her target back in. After taking the small chain off the bottom of the target, she releases it from its clips, then turns to look at me. “There are a couple of things you need to do before you even pick the gun up.”

There are? “I didn’t see you do anything, other than set up your target, and load the gun of course.”

Becca rolls up her target. A small smile comes onto her face, and I can see the laughter in her eyes. “Yes, but I’ve already done these things. Once you figure them out, you don’t have to do it ever again.”

“Oh.” Her shoulders are shaking now. “Why are you laughing at me, Becca?”

And now she just lets it all out. “I’m sorry!” she says between giggles. “It’s just so weird that I am teaching you how to shoot a gun.” She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “I really am sorry. Shooting a gun is no laughing matter.” She takes another deep breath then says, “Okay. Take your pointer fingers and thumbs and make a diamond with your arms stretched out, like this.” She moves her hands and arms out to show me what she means. But I must be taking too long to copy her because she drops her arms and moves so she’s standing in front of me. “Here,” she says, grabbing my hands. Electricity races up my arms from where she’s touching me, and I involuntarily shiver.

Becca looks up at me with her eyebrows wrinkled together, but then focuses back on the task at hand. She pulls my arms straight out in front of me at shoulder height. She uses her hands to close the last three fingers on each of my hands to my palms, and makes a diamond with my index fingers and thumbs, just like she told me to. I smile, squint one eye, then tell Becca, “This is a great frame for your face. I need a camera, because this is the perfect shot.”

She laughs but reprimands me, “Focus, Asher!”

“But I am! On your smile!” I wink, and that gorgeous blush I love so much rises on her cheeks.

She releases my hands then says, “Alright, all jokes aside, find something that can’t move to fit right in the middle of the diamond you made with your hands.”

I slowly move my ‘diamond’ around until I find a bolt on the bench. “Okay. I’ve found something. Now what?”

“Now I want you to close your left eye without moving your hands.” Ookaay. “Now switch and close your right eye.”

“Alright. There was a difference, but why am I doing this?” I start to bring my arms down—

“Ah, ah, ah! Keep your diamond there. When you closed your eyes one at a time, which eye was closed when you
couldn’t
see the object anymore?”

I repeat the exercise to double check. “My left eye was closed when I couldn’t see it.”

“Huh.” She says. And doesn’t continue.

“Huh, what? Is there something wrong with me?”

“No,” she laughs. “It’s just that you are a left-handed shooter, that’s all.”

“What do you mean? I’m right handed.”

“I know you write with your right hand. But your left eye is your dominant eye. Which means when you’re shooting down range, you will use your left eye to focus the sights, and you’ll use your left pointer finger to pull the trigger.”

Okay, that just sounds weird. “I’m not so sure I’m going to be able to shoot that way, Becca.”

But she just smiles at me and grabs my hands again, pulling me toward the bench where the gun and ammo are waiting. That same zing runs up my arms again, and this time I stifle the shiver, hoping Becca doesn’t notice. “You’ll be just fine. I promise.”

Becca releases my hands and grabs my target off the ground. “I can do that Becca. You don’t have to do it for me.”

She just smiles and says, “I know. I never said you were incapable. But you just focus on shooting, and I’ll take care of the rest...this time.” Oh, she thinks we’re going to go to the shooting range again sometime? I’m not so sure how I feel about that idea.

Becca doesn’t give me any time to consider it. She picks up the gun off the bench, then presses it into my left hand.

“Okay Asher, hold the gun out in front of you the way you think you would if you were shooting one-handed, but keep your pointer finger straight. Don’t touch the trigger.”

I immediately follow her instructions, wrapping my lower three fingers around the grip of the gun, my thumb around the back, and leave my index finger straight.

“Good. Now I want you to wrap all your fingers of your right hand over your left hand fingers, and then cross your thumb over your left thumb, but keep it on the same side of the gun. We don’t want the slide to hit your thumb.”

I do as she says, but, “Becca, this feels really weird. I don’t know if I can do this.”