Until Tomorrow
let me in
Becca had been avoiding people ever since Kelly left. It seemed like the safest option for her. She didn’t want to talk to anybody, but that’s all anyone wanted to do, it seemed. Talk. Becca knew they didn’t really care what she had to say. She was just another broken teen they wanted to push into a psychologist’s office so they could feel good about themselves – like they’d actually helped someone.
She escaped to Logan’s as often as possible, and whenever she did, it so happened that Whakaio had to be working. He’d taken an interest in her, and kept calling her ‘Indie,’ as that was her favourite genre of music and she refused to tell him her name. He kept asking her questions about music, to which Becca would offer one-word replies only. - she didn’t need anybody, and she certainly didn’t owe him anything. He started giving her discounts, asking her what she did on the weekends – desperate for a chance to see her again. Becca did nothing but push him away, but still he kept coming back.
It was a Saturday afternoon four months after meeting Whakaio that she finally snapped. “So what are you doing tonight, then?” Whakaio asked her; just like he did every other Saturday she so happened to be in the store when he was working. Usually, she’d reply with one word – ‘nothing’ being the favourite. This time was different. She’d resisted, held back, bit down on her tongue and remained silent for far too long.
“Why do you care?” she snapped suddenly. Whakaio was obviously taken aback, surprise written all over his face.
“Why don’t you?” he replied, blinking twice.
“Why don’t I what?” Becca hissed.
“Care. You don’t care about anything, do you?” he said.
“I don’t think my life is any of your business.” Whakaio shook his head.
“You’re good at what you’re doing, I’ll give you that,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“Why can’t we just be friends?”
“Why do you want to be?”
“You’re different,” he said with a shrug. Becca had to bite down on her bottom lip to stop herself from smiling.
“That’s one way of putting it,” she said.
“Just let me in, Indie.”
“My name is Becca,” she said, and just like that; she’d let him in.
She escaped to Logan’s as often as possible, and whenever she did, it so happened that Whakaio had to be working. He’d taken an interest in her, and kept calling her ‘Indie,’ as that was her favourite genre of music and she refused to tell him her name. He kept asking her questions about music, to which Becca would offer one-word replies only. - she didn’t need anybody, and she certainly didn’t owe him anything. He started giving her discounts, asking her what she did on the weekends – desperate for a chance to see her again. Becca did nothing but push him away, but still he kept coming back.
It was a Saturday afternoon four months after meeting Whakaio that she finally snapped. “So what are you doing tonight, then?” Whakaio asked her; just like he did every other Saturday she so happened to be in the store when he was working. Usually, she’d reply with one word – ‘nothing’ being the favourite. This time was different. She’d resisted, held back, bit down on her tongue and remained silent for far too long.
“Why do you care?” she snapped suddenly. Whakaio was obviously taken aback, surprise written all over his face.
“Why don’t you?” he replied, blinking twice.
“Why don’t I what?” Becca hissed.
“Care. You don’t care about anything, do you?” he said.
“I don’t think my life is any of your business.” Whakaio shook his head.
“You’re good at what you’re doing, I’ll give you that,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
“Why can’t we just be friends?”
“Why do you want to be?”
“You’re different,” he said with a shrug. Becca had to bite down on her bottom lip to stop herself from smiling.
“That’s one way of putting it,” she said.
“Just let me in, Indie.”
“My name is Becca,” she said, and just like that; she’d let him in.
♠ ♠ ♠
What even is the point of an author's note?What even?