Page 84 of All In Good Time
“Yes, and so is Stokes—who’s going psycho, by the way.”
Stop trying.
“I’m not interested in getting involved with—”
“He won’t listen to anyone else, and he’s going to hurt himself at this point.”
Becca paused. Her lies were useless on Marty—who knew her too well. He knew when she was hiding things, and he knew that she wouldn’t stand by and let Derek get hurt.
She sighed and closed her eyes. She’d have to go against Derek’s wishes again, just this time.
“I’ll be there in a bit. Keep an eye on him until I’m there.”
Hanging up the phone, she rushed to grab her jacket and pulled it on as she went out to the side of the house for her bike. It’d been a while since she’d ridden it, but walking would take too long, so she hopped on and peddled toward Ruby’s house.
It took about fifteen minutes to get there—by working her legs into overdrive. She passed dozens of trick-or-treaters dressed up, but barely paid attention to them besides dodging them as they crossed the residential roads.
All the windows at Ruby’s house were lit, and Becca could see people drinking, both outside and inside, as she approached. She dropped her bike on the grass and ran to the front door.
People were leaving as she walked in. She caught some of the words they said—Stokes. Crazy. Sucks.
The entryway reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke, and she was wildly underdressed in an oversized t-shirt with a bun on her head.
Didn’t matter though—the looks she got weren’t even a worry as she pushed through bodies, her eyes searching frantically for any sign of either Marty or Derek.
“Thank god you’re here.” Nicole appeared from within a group and grabbed Becca’s arm. “Marty was trying to deescalate the situation, but who knows how much helpthatwill be.”
“What’s going on?”
A chorus of yells guided Becca’s attention right to where it needed to be.
Over the music playing in the living room, it was difficult to focus on any one conversation that might help her find what she was looking for, so she focused on their eyes instead. The stares and pointing fingers lit up a path that Nicole led her down, pushing past people to reach the opening in a semi-circle of kids.
Ruby stood to the side, sobbing about how much trouble she was going to be in, while her friends patted her shoulder. Marty ran an exasperated hand through his hair not far from her, but the main attraction took place dead center.
Derek stood next to an empty table that clearly hadn’t always been empty. From the look of it, it’s where all the alcohol had been.
Now it was scattered over the floor—red punch staining a rug, glasses and the punch bowl shattered around his feet. Derek didn’t look like he cared. With one hand, he chugged a can of beer, and in the other, a smoking cigarette. His eyes were bloodshot as he leaned his head back to spout a stream of beer into the air over him. Some people cheered, some left—annoyed that the alcohol had been ruined.
Still oblivious to Becca’s presence, Derek tossed the can over his shoulder and slipped the cigarette into his mouth. Ruby continued to sob off to the side, unwilling to step in and stop him, but Greg Wolski looked much more eager to put an end to it. He rushed up from behind an unsteady Derek, turning him by his shoulder to make sure he had a clean shot to Derek’s face.
Becca’s covered her mouth and yelped into her fingers as Derek stumbled backward.
He was never easily fazed by a punch, so he caught his balance against the table and retaliated with a strike of his own. The crowd oohed and ahed, but Becca flinched as another hit crashed into Derek’s jaw.
“Fuck you, Stokes,” Greg said, grabbing Derek by his collar.
Derek’s lip was split, and a drop of blood slid from the corner of his mouth. He laughed straight into Greg’s face, eyes crazed with intoxication. “You wish, Wolski.”
Becca’s stomach churned, but she finally found the courage to move out of Nicole’s grasp, so she could push her way through the bodies to throw herself in the midst of the tussle.
It was a stupid choice, sure, but she couldn’t stand by and watch Derek get beaten any more.
Marty appeared on the other side and grabbed Greg from behind as Becca reached Derek and pulled him from the other boy’s grasp. Unlike Greg, Derek didn’t resist being pulled away, still laughing at Greg’s angry face.
“Leave it be, Derek,” she said, from behind, her hands holding onto his arm and tugging him with her.
His grin stalled and his resistance against her slowed as her voice caught up to his impaired mind. His expression cleared, like someone had dumped a sobering bucket of ice water over his head.
