Ruin Everything

Later, Becca took me to a high-end restaurant to celebrate or something. I’m not sure exactly what we were celebrating but with Becca, you never really needed a legitimate reason. She would show up at my locker, grin and announce, “It’s the birthday of George Washington’s third cousin! Let’s go out to eat!” Or, she’ll drag me shopping, to a movie, back to shopping and then to dinner, just because she has the money and the time.

It was a classy Italian restaurant, with high-backed chairs and fancy blood red tablecloths. Overhead was a crystal chandelier and soft Italian music played over the speakers, drifting between the three different dining rooms. We were, most definitely, in one of the more ritzy rooms, with crystalline flutes for our sparkling apple juice, and satin napkins. This was the kind of place that I could never even dream of affording on my own.

I ordered my usual Italian dish, cheese tortellini in white sauce while Becca ordered whatever the hell was the most expensive. She had this deep-seated need to spend the most amount of money in one night as she could. One time, back when we first started going out on a regular basis, she blew over 600 dollars in one night. She has no idea the worth of a dollar, and work is a dirty word to her. The world is handed to Rebecca Hammond on a sterling silver platter.

“So, how’s the crush going?” Becca asked as I speared a tortellini with my large fork.

I kept my eyes on my plate as I popped the food into my mouth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. What crush?”

This was routine for us. She’d ask about my crush, I’d blatantly avoid her inquiries.

“You know what crush, Cassara,” she replied. “The boy with the dark brown eyes and the voice like a fucking angel who happens to have his own cute little nickname for you, and stares at you like you hung the fucking moon.”

“You’re delusional,” I stated, playing with my flute of juice. I took a long sip, avoiding her eyes. She was constantly trying to push me towards guys. It’s normally Alex, because she knows me way too well. I never even had to say anything to her. She just knew. One time, she set me up on a date with this dull guy named Jake who only talked about himself and his ex-girlfriend the entire time. Another time, she set me up with Thomas’ best friend, who wasn’t bad at first but had tried to slip his hand into my skirt during the movie.

That was the end of my blind date days. I refused to even talk to Becca for an entire week after the skirt incident.

“I am not. There is a lot of things you can call me, Ace, but delusional is not one of them. I know what young love is, and I know that when you two are in the room together, you have this delicious sexual tension going on. Unrequited love, I believe. I’m surprised when we leave you two alone, you don’t jump each other, tearing at your clothes in a race to see who can undress the other fastest. Just get it on already!”

My cheeks flared up with embarrassment as several tables turned to look at us. I covered my face and shook my head again.

“Keep it down,” I hissed.

“Why? Because you’re embarrassed that I’m right? Just admit it, you want Alex to take you in every sense of the word, and you want it hard.”

“Shut up, Becca. For the love of god,” I growled. She was normally rather decent about this topic. She knew when to stop and yeah, she was vulgar to some extent. But she had never taken it to this level.

“Come on, Cassara. Lighten up. Sex isn’t anything to be ashamed about. Everyone in this room wants it. You want it. I want it. That old man in the powder blue suit wants it. It’s completely natural. And it’s alright for you to want Alex. Hell, I want Alex. He’s a fine specimen, and I bet he’d be good in bed. I wouldn‘t mind riding that pony for a night or two.”

“That’s it, I’m done,” I snarled, standing abruptly which caused my chair to slam backwards. It hit a passing waiter, who tumbled into a booth, food flying in every which direction. I didn’t stop to help. I stormed from the restaurant towards my little car and practically ripped the door handle off in my pursuit of getting the door unlocked. I threw myself into the driver’s seat, slammed the door and prepared myself to drive. I didn’t know where I was going to go.

I couldn’t go to Becca’s, because I was currently running away from her. I couldn’t go home, because I didn’t want to prove to Jack that I needed help.

I started up my car and drove quickly, practically pushing the medal all the way to the floor. I don’t know why what Becca was saying had upset me so much. She was always crude. That was just the way Becca was. I was used to her language by now. Was it just because she was talking about Alex that way? Or was it because, in some deep corner of my brain, I knew she was right?

I finally pulled into the driveway of a two-story Tudor house, parking behind Alex’s dark blue sedan. I stepped out of my car, leaving my purse tucked into the center console and headed for Alex’s front door. I held the bottom hem of my skirt as I took his stone steps, and then let myself inside. I followed the soft sounds of an acoustic coming from upstairs. I knocked on the frame of Alex’s door and stepped inside, just as he looked up.

A smile crossed his face, lighting up his beautiful features.

“Hey Lex,” I said, throwing myself into bed beside him. He started to set the guitar on the floor when I caught his arm. “Keep playing?”

“Anything for you, Pebbles,” he replied, setting the guitar on his legs and he returned to playing. I kicked off my heels and stripped off the jean jacket, tossing it away. Alex reached over as I lay my head against his pillow and pulled my beanie off, sliding it onto his own head.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he continued to play. He was such a beautiful guitarist. I watched his hands for a moment as they coaxed the notes from the instrument.

“Becca. She’s just,” I trialed off and then made a noise as if that explained my dilemma.

“She’s Becca. I understand.”

“It’s more than just Becca being Becca though. I don’t know. There’s something up with her.”

“Up with her?” he questioned.

“You know she really has no sense of when to stop, on a good day. But today, she was acting weird. First she insisted that she didn’t get any attention from guys because she’s skinny and then she was going on a rant about how everyone wants sex. It was the strangest she’s ever acted. I’m wondering if something happened with Thomas,” I explained.

“Thomas… have I met him?”

“No. He doesn’t come around very often. I’ve only seen him a handful of times since they’ve been together.”

“Sketchy,” Alex stated. I nodded and closed my eyes, curling up. “What’s with the sexy outfit? Hot date?”

“What? Oh, no. I just felt rebellious.”

“Can you feel rebellious all the time? Because this is kind of turning me on,” he said with a laugh. I smiled and hit his arm. Alex put his guitar aside and slid down so we were face to face. He kissed my nose.

“Everything will work out with Becca, I promise. And if not, there’s always me and Jack.”

I smiled and wiggled closer, letting Alex envelop me in a hug. We fell silent, laying together comfortably.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” I asked quite a bit later, half asleep.

“It’s okay by me, Pebbles. But you gotta ask Momma Barakat about that one,” he said.

“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh,” I moaned into his chest. He was playing with my hair, resting me against him.

“We’ll call her later though. Take a nap first,” he murmured, brushing the hair away from my face. I looked up at him briefly and smiled.

“Thank you, Alex.”

“Hey, what are friends for, huh?”

I plastered the fake smile onto my face as I felt a pang in my guy. I hated that word, so much. Friend. It was all Alex and I were ever going to be. I was just his best friend’s kid sister. He didn’t feel anything for me. Becca was wrong. I didn’t hang the moon, especially not to Alex. I was nothing. I was just, well, Pebbles, the cute little 14-year-old who wore her hair high on her head and ran around a lot. There was nothing special about me. I barely ever registered. Just Pebbles, nothing more.