Authors: Courtney Noel
Chapter 26
: Healing -->
I call Kade at lunch, just like I did between every period this morning. He’s home alone while my parents are at work, and somehow is moving around the house without barfing all over our nice carpet. He said he’s only gotten up once to get more Ginger ale. He doesn’t keep going to the bathroom to puke – he has a trash can and bowl by his bed. (A little too much information for me.)
“Hey, how are you doing?” I ask him when he picks up on the third ring.
“Becca, Lindsey is home now. You don’t have to keep calling,” he says from the other line. He doesn’t sound so out of breath now, which is a good sign.
“Yeah I do,” I respond quietly.
“Why?”
“Because I’m worried about you,” I respond again, wanting to take back what I just said. I worry about him so much. Cynthia left him here and I’m in charge of taking care of him now. I just can’t get too close to him or else I will never let him go.
“What happened that morning you were screaming?”
“I can’t tell you.” Why did he bring this up now? Did he really have to? He basically just ruined the rest of my day.
“Why not?” He pushes me more. I don’t like to be pushed. Never.
I hang up.
Chapter 27
: Watch Her Heal -->
Becca hangs up on me. Shit. I look up from my bed and find Lindsey in the doorway.
“Only push her little by little, Kade, and never twice in one conversation.”
“Will you tell me what happened? You had such a pale face, and she was so red from all the sobbing.” I look up at her. I know she feels bad for me. I wince at the thought. She was so upset. I never want to see her that upset ever again.
“She will open up soon, I can tell. Becca is an open book, you just have to figure out how she writes. Just know, when she does open up to you, you will be the first person she tells,” she says, then walks back downstairs. Was that conversation supposed to make me feel better or like shit even more? Fuck.
Chapter 28
: <-- Breaking
“You didn’t tell me that I couldn’t tell Chasity you liked her. Plus, she’s practically my sister. I would have told her no matter what. She doesn’t like you anyways; she’s glad I told her,” I texted Henry.
“Fuck you, Becca,” he texted back. In that moment, I know I’m done. In that moment, I have no desire to say anything back. I put my cell phone away and don’t have a desire to take it out again. I don’t text back.
Little did I know back then, that I wouldn’t talk to him for three months.
Chapter 29
: Healing -->
The next morning is Saturday. I wake up to the smell of pancakes. Kade’s already out of bed when I get up. He’s at the stove flipping pancakes and mom and dad are in the office working (as usual.)
“Hey, do you want pancakes?”
“No,” I say coldly as I open the fridge and take out an apple.
“Come on. They have chocolate chips in them,” he pressures, giving me a smile.
“I don’t want any.” I say with a strong tone.
“What? Do you have something against pancakes?”
“How is it that I just got up two minutes ago and you are already pissing me off?” I shake my head and walk into the living room, turn on the TV, determined to block him out. I chomp on my apple.
My mom walks in the room with her laptop and calendar in hand.
“Can you and Kade do me a huge favor? Can you guys go to Costco for me? I’ll give you a list. I am so crammed with work and don’t want you two complaining that there is no food in the house,” my mom says to both of us. It’s Saturday, Mom. I don’t think they even know what a weekend is.
“Sure,” Kade says right as I say “no.” Just perfect.
“Thank you Kade,” she says while giving me a cold stare. “You are so helpful.” Oh kiss my fucking ass.
So twenty minutes later, Kade and I are driving to Costco. He’s driving, and I’m in the passenger seat. I swear I am driving for the next like two weeks. Just because he is a guy does not mean he gets to drive me everywhere.
“So, what do you have against pancakes?” He asks as we pull into a parking space.
“Nothing,” I say once again, and look him straight in the eye this time.
“Why don’t you eat them then?” He takes the keys out of the ignition and sighs, still staying in his seat.
“I don’t like pancakes,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. I have nothing to prove to him.
“Now I know you are lying. We used to eat pancakes every morning when we were little. I remember, you would eat like ten.” He raises his eyebrows and I hate that he knows he is 100% right. Why is he always right? Was he this stubborn when we were little?
“I just don’t like them anymore,” I sigh, accidentally letting my vulnerable side show.
“Remind you of something bad?” Okay, now he is on to me. I do not like to be pushed. I stare into his eyes a second longer than I can handle, unbuckle my seatbelt, and get out of the car. He gets out, too, but keeps his eyes locked on me. Like he’s trying to figure me out. Well, good luck with that Kade, no one has ever figured me out, and no one ever will.
But he’s right. Pancakes remind me of Henry. And yes, he is something bad. We would always make chocolate chip pancakes for lunch. Until he stopped coming over, I mean.
“Okay. We need milk, eggs, juice, water, sparkling water, and lunch meat,” I read off the list as we walk from the parking lot to the entrance of Costco. I love this place. Samples plus lots of food is just brilliant. You can just come here for free lunches.
“Easy,” Kade says as he grabs a cart and starts to push it beside me. We walk in and go straight to the back of the store- that’s where the cold stuff is. Kade stops the cart and grabs a huge case of bottled water, picking it up like it’s nothing at all. His muscles are flexed and I admit, I have to look away. I don’t want him to catch me checking him out just like how I caught myself. Then he picks up a case of sparkling water and also puts it in the cart. To distract myself from how Kade looks picking up heavy things, I walk to the giant fridge, to get milk and apple juice. I hate orange juice, but my dad and Kade love it. Freaks. You can taste the pulp and it’s this gross texture in your mouth. No thank you.
Kade walks to the other giant fridge and takes out eggs. He gently puts them in the cart, not wanting them to crack. This is my mom’s pet peeve. We then walk to the right, where the meat is. I love meat. Especially Costco’s steak. It’s like heaven in squares that cuts like butter. I sound like a commercial. We go down the aisle that has the ham, turkey, and roast beef. Kade keeps pushing the cart next to me. Ugh, this reminds me of married couples shopping in the store together. That is definitely not what Kade and I are and it is making it awkward. I pick out lunch meat and put it on top of the water bottles in the cart. Are people staring at us? ‘Cause I feel like everyone is. We walk back to the front of the store, side by side of course, and check out. We take the cart out to the car, fill the trunk with groceries, and then Kade puts the cart back while I sit in the passenger seat waiting for him to come back. It’s like the most time I’ve had alone besides sleeping. I miss the quiet.
When he gets into the car, all I see is how he resembles Cynthia. His eyes. The way he puts the keys in the ignition. Cynthia really raised him exactly how she wanted and, of course, he turned out amazing. Truth is, if Rey and Cynthia aren’t here, I’m glad Kade is. It’s scary to admit that to myself. Now if I could only have Cynthia.
And I can’t hold it any longer. This is all too much. So I let the lump in my throat turn into a tear falling from my eye down to my cheek. Then two more. Then it becomes hard to breath, my nose is running, and the tears are making my vision go blurry. Kade puts the car back in park, pulls me over to his seat so I’m snuggled on his lap between his chest and the steering wheel, and lets me just sit there and cry into his chest. I don’t really care that I’m sitting here crying on him; I just need a good cry. So we sit there for about twenty minutes. I sit on his lap balling my eyes out, in the Costco parking lot, with the wheel digging into my side.
Chapter 30
: <-- Breaking
“Don’t tell Becca this, but I really regret meeting her. If I would have never met her, my life would have been easier and better,” Henry texted my friend Chasity. She showed me.
He regrets meeting his best friend? He regrets meeting the only person that cares about him? He regrets meeting the only person that has been here for him. Well, he’s a fucking dick.
Chapter 31
: Watch Her Heal -->
I come downstairs for dinner. Becca was crying in my lap just a couple hours ago, which I admit was adorable, yet sad, but I know that’s what my mom would want me to do. I’m supposed to take care of Becca while my mom is gone, so that is exactly what I am going to do. I find Lindsey and Becca sitting at the bar in the kitchen, drinking tea. When they hear me coming into the room, they stop talking and stare at me.
“Am I interrupting something?” I put my hands up in front of me, joking like an “I surrender” kind of thing. Becca has this awful look in her eyes. They’re like daggers stabbing me. Then Lindsey looks me straight in the eye, and her eyes are just full of pain. Heart-wrenching pain. It’s the kind you can literally feel in your heart. It’s the kind that radiates all the way down to your fingers and toes.
“No,” they both say a little too quickly. Lindsey looks at me once again as Becca moves her spoon around in her mug. Then Lindsey squeezes Becca’s hand, gets up from the bar stool, and walks out of the room, leaving Becca and I alone.
I grab ice cream and two spoons and sit next to Becca at the bar. I hand her one spoon then help myself to the ice cream. She pulls the tub closer to her, shoving her spoon in the tub in order to get a huge spoonful of ice cream. Who needs dinner, right? Totally. Ice cream dinner is where it’s at.
“What were you and Lindsey talking about?” I look at her. Those eyes. Gosh.
“Oh, this guy just said he would commit suicide if I didn’t talk to him,” she says without any emotion in her voice or on her face, just totally nonchalantly. I, on the other hand, almost cough up the ice cream I am supposed to be swallowing peacefully.
“Who?” I manage to get out before having a cough attack since my ice cream went down the wrong pipe.
She just takes another bite of ice cream. I hear Lindsey in the back of my mind telling me to only push as far as Becca is willing to go. But seeing Becca like this, seeing her in so much pain, it’s hard not to push her to tell me what’s wrong. I know if my mom knew I know something is wrong with Becca but I’m not really doing anything about it, she would freak. Well, I wouldn’t say I’m not doing anything to help Becca get through whatever she is getting through, but I also wouldn’t say I am doing everything I can do to help her.
“So are you going to talk to the guy?” I ask her.
“Well, right now I’m talking to him because I don’t want to be responsible for him committing suicide, but Monday at school my mom and I are going to talk to the principal,” she finally talks.
“Why would you talk to the principal?” Is she fucking crazy?
“Because what he is doing to me is so manipulative. It’s basically blackmail,” she says as her eyes fill up with tears.
“How do you know him?” I ask.
“School,” is all she says. I can tell asking anything about her relation to this guy or about the identity of this guy is too much for her right now, so I don’t overstep my bounds.
“Is that the same guy that you were screaming about that morning and your mom was looking at your phone?”
“Yes,” she says. I just nod at her, glad to finally be having a conversation with her where neither of us run out of the room and away from each other. Yet, at least. She looks up into my eyes and for the first time in the month I have been living with this mysterious girl, I think I have finally gotten a piece of the Becca puzzle. I am one step closer to figuring this girl out. I’m getting pretty damn good at this.
**
That night, I’m asleep in my comfy bed, in my room, which is across from Becca’s, which is still hard to wrap my head around. I’m reading a motorcycle magazine. I want a motorcycle really bad but Lindsey and David won’t let me get one – ever. I like this red one with black handle bars. My friend has this black and white one, and it’s ugly as hell. Of course, I don’t tell him that. It basically looks like an episode of I Love Lucy on a two by two inch screen. Just shitty.
Anyways, so I’m looking at motorcycles when I hear Becca scream from her room. I jump out of bed and run across the hall. By the time I process what’s going on, Becca’s parents are in her room too. Becca is hyperventilating and sweating and sobbing, all at the same time. Lindsey rushes to her side and starts rubbing her back.
“What happened, baby?” She asks, rubbing circles on her back. I sit at the edge of Becca’s bed, next to David. None of us even bothered turning on the light to her room.
“I had a nightmare,” she says, her voice shaking.
“About what?” Her daddy asks her.
“He took me out of my bed; he kidnapped me. He was cradling me out of my room.” she responds, barely breathing. Tears are streaming down her face and she has her hand on her heart. She’s pale as hell.
“Who?” Her dad asks once again. Yeah, who?
Lindsey answers for Becca. “Henry. This is the second time she’s had this dream. Henry comes into her room, tapes her mouth shut, and kidnaps her.”
“Where does he take you, baby?” David asks. He takes her shaking hand in his and squeezes it.
“It never gets that far. I wake up right after he takes me out of my bedroom door,” she says. Okay, who the fuck is Henry? David then looks at me. “Let’s get some rest, Kade. Let the girls talk,” he says as I stand up. Even though I don’t want to leave Becca, I obey David and follow him out of the bedroom, closing Becca’s door behind me. Leaving her right now seems like the hardest thing I have ever had to possibly do. The scary thing is, I have separation anxiety after I close the door. I would do anything to be in that room with her, helping her through whatever the hell is going on.
Henry. Henry who? What’s his last name?
Henry. She knows him from school. He’s the worst thing that has ever happened to her. He reminds her of pancakes, and they used to be best friends. She sobbed while her mom looked at something on her phone related to this guy. Yeah, I have more puzzle pieces to put together, that’s for sure.
**
Then at three-forty five, I hear the TV click on. Am I going to get any sleep tonight? I sigh, rolling my eyes. I step out of bed and slowly walk down the stairs, trying not to make any noise. Lindsey and David’s room is quiet and the door is closed, but Becca’s is open, and she’s not in her bed. I didn’t have to check her bedroom to know who’s downstairs, though.
I find Becca sitting on the couch eating more ice cream. Where does all the fat go? It definitely doesn’t go anywhere on her body. Maybe her boobs, actually. Okay ew, Kade, stop talking. Becca looks up at me when she hears my feet slowly shuffling across the hall, toward the living room. She just looks back at the TV. This time, she’s watching Full House.
“I forgot how much I love this show,” she says quietly. I can barely hear the TV, but if I concentrate really hard, I can hear what each character is saying. I just keep silent, letting her talk whenever she wants. She’s had a hard twenty-four hours. I wouldn’t be able to sleep, either, if I was her, so I understand somewhat. “God, he’s taken so much away from me. He’s so abusive. So much of my happiness is absolutely gone,” she says. Again, I don’t say a word. Hell, I barely breathe. “My love for going to school, living life, it’s gone. He stole it. He’s a criminal. My ability to trust people isn’t even able to be seen in the dust. I can’t even begin to describe how much I hate him,” she tells me. Shit, who is this guy? What did he do that was so horrible? Why does he make her so unhappy? How is he abusive?
“What’s his name?” Maybe she will tell me his last name.
“Henry Joseph,” she says. Yes, a last name! Wait, I know this douche.
“Wait. The ginger one?” I ask, simply. Saying this gets a little smile to come across her face, like it’s some inside joke between her and herself. Slowly, her smile gets bigger and bigger, which causes me to smile.
“Yeah,” she giggles. I nod my head, glad I could get her to giggle at least a tiny bit. When we were younger, I could always get Becca to have huge laugh attacks. Then when she got older and I got poorer, I began to think she was a spoiled rich kid. Now I see that really isn’t the story, and I feel bad for assuming that it was. Her parents always make her work for things, and she gets straight A’s all the time. This girl is no spoiled brat.
“He just proves that gingers have no soul,” I tell her. Her eyes widen and she laughs even more. She walks over to where I am sitting and slaps me in the shoulder.
“You are awful! It just happens that he has no soul; some gingers are actually pretty nice,” she says to me. Her smile is practically touching her eyes and I wish I could just glue it there.
After I got her to laugh, we talked for about five more hours, until around nine o’clock in the morning. That’s when she fell asleep on the couch, finally. Lindsey and David are still asleep, so I take Becca up to her room, cradling her like a baby, and continue to let her sleep. I put her down in her bed and cover her up with sheets and blankets. She is still sound asleep, and didn’t wake up when I carried her up the stairs. I watch her for about five minutes, breathing peacefully in and out, then my eyes start to feel heavy. I have to fight with everything I have to not crawl into bed with her and just lay there with my arms wrapped around her waist. No sex or anything, just sitting there holding her sounds amazing right now. Instead, I close Becca’s door behind me, and crawl back into my own bed, and fall asleep.