Page 57 of All In Good Time
She walked quicker than she normally would through the hallways, speeding just enough to be fast, but not enough to be running. Because of that, her reaction was delayed as she turned the corner and saw the two men standing outside the office in the empty hallway. She slid to a stop when she saw both familiar faces standing in front of the empty front desk.
One younger with his face downturned, avoiding the eyes of the older man, who had one hand grabbing onto the boy’s collar.
She wasn’t close enough to hear what he said, but she could see Derek’s face and the finger that Mark stuck into it, wagging it like he was chastising a small child. Becca’s heart pounded at the look on Mark’s face. The tension in his jaw, the slight reddening.
He was angry—trying to hide it behind a casual expression—but he was angry, and he was losing his cool in a school hallway.
Becca stayed in place as Mark said something, and Derek’s hung head slowly rose until his chin raised. His eyes connected with his father’s.
Becca saw his fists clench. From where she stood, she could make out the scabbing red on Derek’s knuckles from where his barrage on Brent had broken the skin.
She swallowed, unsure if she should continue forward or back up. The last time she saw an interaction between Derek and his father, Derek shut down and grew quiet. Would it be better if he didn’t know she saw the way his eyes reddened slightly, or the way his breathing quickened when his dad pulled him roughly by his collar until their faces were right in front of one another?
The choice was snatched away from her when a classroom door opened somewhere in a hallway behind, and Mark’s head snapped in her direction. It took him a few moments to register that he and Derek were not alone.
Becca held her breath, her grip on the hall pass tightening until the edges of the wooden stick dug into her palm.
Mark smiled, and Derek followed his father’s diverted attention. His eyes widened slightly when they saw her standing there. A heavy shame washed over her at the same moment it appeared in his face.
The grip that Mark had on Derek loosened, and he patted his son’s shoulder in a way anyone else might interpret as a fatherly comfort before stepping away and letting go.
He mumbled one last thing to his son, who did not react to his words before the man turned and left.
Becca stayed in place, listening intently as Mark’s footsteps faded down the hallway and the front door of the school clicked open.
She moved when they were alone. He didn’t avoid looking at her. This time he stared with every step until she was right in front of him.
His eyes weren’t just red, they were rimmed with the shine of tears.
“Are you alright?” Her hand skimmed over his face, over his neck, and down his arm to his injured knuckles. His hand was hot to the touch, and she had to gently pull the tension out of his clenched fingers until he relaxed in her grasp. Brushing the uninjured skin around his knuckles, she pulled them to her lips and blew onto the bloody marks.
He flinched as if the air hurt him and nodded.
Becca exhaled.
There were a million things she wanted to say to him. She could tell him he shouldn’t have done it. That giving in to what Brent said was playing into his game. That by defending her, he was hurting himself.
But who did that help?
Her arms flew up and circled around his neck, pulling him against her into a hug.
He froze up under her embrace and grunted in surprise as she closed her eyes and buried her face into his shoulder.
“Thank you, Derek.”
A few seconds passed where Becca wasn’t sure how he would react, but then he relaxed, like the words were the only thing he’d needed to hear. His arms slid around her waist, pulling her in close. His face came down and settled into her neck. He sighed into her hair.
Becca could have stayed like that all day, wrapped in Derek Stokes’s arms. It didn’t even matter to her that they were standing in the middle of the school hallway. All she could think about was that she never realized how wonderful Derek’s hugs would be.
21
March 1985 | Before
When you really care about someone, it’s crazy how little you mind what others say anymore.
In such a short time, they had become inseparable, and she no longer stressed what rumors floated around about them.
Marty wasn’t as thrilled about her newfound friendship, and he didn’t understand why she felt so connected to Derek, but she couldn’t blame him. She also couldn’t explain it, so he just accepted her lame reasoning, which left out just about every real detail.
