Page 81 of All In Good Time
She held up a hand. “Don’t you dare. If I have to listen to Metallica, I won’t be able to focus on this. And Ineedto focus.”
Derek pushed the tape back in and continued the song he’d just claimed was shit, his attention successfully diverted from messing around with the stereo. He came forward, stopping to peek at the papers scattered on the bed in front of her. “What are you doing anyway?”
She gestured dramatically at the extensive lists and scribbled notes in front of her, particularly at the bold letters at the top of every page: the names of universities around the country.
“College applications.” Only the same thing she’d been prepping for at the library while Derek was working at the pool all summer. The lists of requirements and addresses had all been provided by Ms. Roylance in one of their meetings, when they’d narrowed Becca’s choices to a few select schools to study nursing like her mom. The notes on each school, written in Becca’s chicken scratch, were all her doing. “Most of the deadlines are in December, so I want to be early.”
He raised a brow, looking both impressed and overwhelmed by the extensive information in front of him. “Four months early?”
“I’m just starting on the essays. Then I’ll have to get letters of recommendation, maybe do some interviews. It just depends on the school.” Becca frowned. “When are you going to do yours?”
He pulled away and laid down on the ground. He tilted his head backward so he could look up at the ceiling. “Not sure I am.”
“What?” Becca slid her papers to the side and leaned forward so she could see him. “Why not?”
He shrugged. “Never thought about it.”
“Well think about it now. We could go somewhere together. I hear college is easier when you already have friends there. You don’t even have to go to school if you would rather work.”
That piqued his interest, and his head lolled to the side to meet her eyes. “Where are you going?”
“I’ve got a few that I’m interested in.” She took a moment to slide around the papers on her comforter, searching for the master list of her options in the unorganized pile. She found it and pulled it out, turning it for him to read.
His eyes scanned the list, pausing halfway down. “You’ve got some in California.”
“Some of the best schools are in California.” She smiled. Seeing him intrigued at the idea made her heart warm, and maybe she was getting ahead of herself, but she loved the idea of Derek being with her. Truth was, she wanted to go to school somewhere new and different, but the inevitability of leaving her comfortable little town scared her. If Derek could be there with her, everything would be perfect. “I know you wanted to go back to California.”
He nodded and read them off. “Madison, Boston, New York, Seattle. They’re all over the country.”
Becca pursed her lips. “I wasn’t sure if you’d like those places.”
He pushed the papers down, and Becca let them settle on the bed. Derek smirked, his eyes sparkling, and Becca’s heart fluttered, “Go wherever you want, sweetheart, I’m sure I’ll like it too.”
32
October 1985 | After
There were only a few days in a year that Derek remembered as significant: His birthday, Mal’s birthday, Becca’s birthday, and Halloween.
He didn’t care for Halloween in particular, but it was an event that took place on Halloween night that meant the world to him. Well, it used to.
It was on Halloween—one year ago—that he met her.
And that’s why he wanted to forget it.
Parties were his escape on the regular, but now they were a necessity. Ruby’s fucking Halloween party was the best place to go to get cheap alcohol and hazy memories—everything he needed.
Apparently, he had other responsibilities first, though—like getting his stepsister to her friend’s house so she could go trick-or-treating.
He wouldn’t do it when his dad asked, but when Mal asked him herself, he couldn’t say no. He could count it as a distraction.
Mal was grateful for the ride, even if she didn’t say it. Her way of showing appreciation was sitting in the passenger seat andnotmoping—a new record. They’d gotten better in the past months, but they weren’t the perfect brother or sister by any means.
When she asked for a ride, he didn’t expect a conversation, so he played his music at top volume, just shy of being painful. A favor was a favor, whether they spoke or not. But the side glances from Mal had him second-guessing that thought. He might have been able to brush it off the first few times, but after five minutes, it was digging into his skin and running over his nerves.
“What?” he asked, the question overly accusatory and abrupt.
Mal didn’t flinch, though she leaned back like she had finally gotten what she was working toward—a reaction.
