Page 31 of All In Good Time

What Brent had said that morning had been weighing on her the same way a plastic bag would wrap around a face. She knew she wasn’t the most exciting person in the world, but Derek had wanted to be her friend anyway. Now that Brent had said that out loud to Derek, she was just waiting for it to click in his head that Brent was right.

Derek pursed his lips, his eyes squinted as he thought hard about something. Becca waited for him to kick her out of the car, but he didn’t.

“Did you know that Brent passes out after, like, two beers?”

Becca blinked. “What?”

“And April whines about literally everything. God, she is so annoying.”

Becca wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. She wasn’t sure why it would matter, or why he even brought it up. He seemed to sense her loss of direction and took his eyes off the road to meet hers.

“Neither of them would go to a party dressed like a whole-ass bunny rabbit or approach a beat-up stranger on the side of the road or walk a little girl home after destroying her skateboard.”

“That was an accident.”

“Brent doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.” His words were firm. He was serious. His usually playful eyes didn’t hold a hint of mockery in them. “Trust me, if I didn’t think you were worth my time, you would know it.”

The car slowed, turning into the driveway in front of her house. She hadn’t even noticed they were there.

She wanted to ask why he found her after everything. Why, after she saw him so vulnerable and weak, did he not avoid her and keep his distance like he had at the beginning? Why now?

But she just asked, “Do you want something to eat?”

His eyebrow raised, and his lips turned upward. “You’re offering me food?”

“I was planning on making spaghetti tonight, and I prefer to eat with someone else.”

She knew quite a bit about Derek now. She’d tended to his wounds more than once, she’d seen him weak, she knew a little about where those bruises came from. But she hadn’t said much about herself until now.

Maybe it was the closest to admitting to anyone how lonely she felt in that house alone.

He turned off the engine and pulled out the key. “Anything is better than sitting at a table with my old man, and I happen to like spaghetti.”

12

January 1985

“I heard something weird.”

Becca looked up from her notebook and left her finger on the page to keep track of where she was at in her book. When Marty had picked her up in the morning, he’d been a little off. His greeting was forced, his hands a little tight on the steering wheel, his posture a bit stiff.

At the time, Becca thought maybe his date had gone bad the night before. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened.

“Oh yeah?” She smiled, eager to tap into any gossip. The project from Mrs. Bernard had destroyed her week and kept her on her toes with Elaine. She was desperate for relief. “Good weird, I hope.”

He didn’t match her energy. In fact, he looked annoyed. “Someone said they saw you with Stokes the other day.”

Oh. Marty’s off-kilter energy was towardher. Her smile fell. She wasn’t ready to delve into that subject with Marty yet. Just yesterday he was complaining that Derek had knocked him off his feet in gym class, and he had assured her it was on purpose.

She swallowed and tried to stay calm. “In case you haven’t noticed, Derek and I happen to go to the same school.” She tried to joke about it, but the look he shot her shut it down. It wasn’t that Becca was trying to hide this weird budding friendship from Marty, she wanted to ease into it. She wasn’t sure how, but that had been the plan.

Okay, so maybe shewashiding it a bit.

“They said they saw him walking into your house.”

She’s screwed. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

He threw his head back, laughing humorlessly. He then stared at the road ahead of them. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” A hand came up to run through his hair. “You’re screwing Stokes.”

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