Page 26 of Solitude

“It’s not…” I trail off, breathing through the frustration. “I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t go with Ben and Gus.”

“I see them all the time.”

“And?”

Beck shrugs again, walking ahead of me into the cemetery. His feet crunch over leaves and twigs, and he bends at the waist to pick up a gum wrapper.

“I’m sorry about the other night,” Beck says when my feet move.

Butterflies erupt in my belly.

Now things shift again, reminding me that sometimes things don’t change. Like usual, the tables have turned, and I’m the one tripping over myself to follow after Beck. Or, at least, how I’ve always wanted to in the past. My feet are moving faster and faster to keep up with him even after I told myself to stop.

I’m so caught up in Beck and the way he’s guiding me through the cemetery that I trip over one of the flat headstones. Stumbling over Thomas Gooding’s grave, I apologize silently and chase after Beck.

“Let’s not talk about it,” I finally manage when Beck glances back at me with curious eyes.

“Have to talk about the things that upset you eventually, Winnie.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I think you’re giving yourself a bit too much credit.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you’re insinuating that you have something to apologize for right now, and I’m trying to tell you that you don’t.”

Beck snorts, arm bumping into my shoulder as we walk side by side now. “I didn’t insinuate anything… But you were upset that night. You know, I would’ve introduced myself to your mom, right? Explained things.”

“See?” The word bursts out of me, and I tug his arm so he stops walking and looks at me. I don’t know why I’m choosing Hollow Graves as my safe spot to voice my insecurities, but I can’t keep the words from exiting my mouth. “That. Why? Why would you introduce yourself, Beck? Why would you care?”

Beck stares down at me, and it’s almost like I can see the wheels turning in his head as he listens to me.

“She was angry because you were talking to us.”

No point in lying. “Yes, and I can handle it.”

“I could’ve talked to her or?—”

I square my shoulders and waggle a finger in his face to cut him off. “I am a woman. Maybe I wasn’t two years ago, but I am now. I can joke about penis nicknames evenif they don’t make sense. I don’t think everyone does that, though, right?”

“I’m not sure. Should I go ask Mrs. Betty if she does?”

“No!” I gasp. “My point is?—”

“Yeah, what is the point here?”

“—that I’m not a child, so stop treating me like one. I can handle my mother.”

Maybe. I know for a fact I wouldn’t be able to handle Beck interjecting himself.

Beck inhales, blue orbs locked on my amber eyes. Finally, he nods his head once. “You’re right. I’ve been assuming you couldn’t handle yourself, and you can.”

“And I—wait…really?”

Beck chuckles, hand lifting to run through his hair before remembering his gloved hands, and he drops it back to his side. “Really. I’m sorry for trying to coddle you. I think… Fuck, I’m just going to say it. I just like the idea of being able to take care of you in some way.”

My eyes widen, and my cheeks heat under his intense gaze. Sincerity creases the corners of his eyes, and it’s refreshing even if I’m surprised.

“I didn’t expect you to apologize. Or say…that.”

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