Read Our Song Online

Authors: Ashley Bodette

Our Song (16 page)

BOOK: Our Song
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Chapter Twenty-Three

 

 

Becca

 

My mom hasn't let go of me since the police left, and Dad hasn't been much better. Once the adrenaline of the situation wore off, I just about fell asleep standing up. Knowing Trip is in police custody has brought such a huge relief to everybody you can physically see it. Despite their need to touch me, my parents' shoulders are relaxed, the worry creases between their eyes gone.

When Mom finally releases me from her grip, she looks at my face, and a sad smile inches onto hers. "Oh baby, you must be absolutely exhausted. Why don't you go take a nap while we make some brunch." This was more a statement than a question, and I knew she would drag me to my bed herself if I didn't go.

"I'll take her in, Amy," Asher says, grabbing my hand.

Mom puts her hand on Asher's shoulder, then pulls him into a hug. Asher doesn't let go of my hand, but uses his other arm to hug my mom back.

"Thank you for being here for Becca," my mom says. A tear runs down her cheek, and she sniffles. "It means the world to us."

Asher backs up from her and looks at me. "She means the world to me. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

 

***

 

“Hey Mom? Dad? Can I talk to you guys in the living room?” Asher already sounds nervous and the conversation hasn’t even started yet.

His parents both look at him with wrinkled brows. “Sure, son,” his dad replies.

“Absolutely,” Laura says.

As we’re walking over toward the couch and chairs, I squeeze Asher’s hand and pull back. “Are you sure you want me to stay?” I whisper. “I can go downstairs while you talk with them if you want some privacy.”

“Of course I want you to stay. If you don’t stay, I might not have the balls to have this conversation. I need you to keep me accountable to saying what I really feel.”

I lean up and kiss his cheek. “I can do that.”

We walk over to the living area, where Asher’s parents are already seated in the rockers, so Asher and I sit on the couch together.

“What’s this about, Asher?” Laura asks, reaching for Robert’s hand between their chairs.

“Well Mom, Dad…I’ve been thinking a lot this week, and talking with Becca,” he looks at me and smiles, giving my hand a squeeze, “and I need to tell you something. I know for a long time—for as long as I can remember actually—we’ve been talking about me attending Syracuse to study architecture…” Asher trails off and looks at the floor. I nudge his shoulder and encourage him with a nod to keep going.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before continuing. “And even though there is nothing wrong with those plans, there is something I want to do more. Something that I think I can be happy doing for the rest of my life, rather than just something I’m good at, but I don’t love doing.”

“When did you decide this?” Robert asks.

“And why didn’t you say anything, sweetie? Of course we want you to go into something you love.” Laura is already up out of her chair, kneeling on the floor in front of the couch, reaching for Asher’s other hand.

“Well, I’ve actually been thinking about this for a long time. But Becca finally got it through my thick skull that maybe I should talk to you guys about it. I have really fallen in love with journalism, working on the newspaper. And I’m really a pretty good writer, I think.”

“You are,” I add, hoping to boost his confidence.

He smiles as he locks eyes with me. “So, I’ve been looking at journalism programs here in the U.S. and the UK, and if I can get in, I’d really like to go to Northwestern University. Although the University of Texas in Austin and Syracuse University have pretty good programs too.” Now that he’s said what he wanted to, he chances a glance back at his parents, so I look to see what they are thinking too.

Laura is crying, but she has a huge smile on her face. Robert is frowning a little, and his brows are knit in what looks like worry. “Are you sure about this son?”

Uh oh. Robert isn’t really going to fight Asher about this, is he? Asher looks his dad straight in the eye and responds, “Yes, Dad. More sure than I’ve been about almost anything else in my life.”

It only takes his dad a couple of seconds to stand up out of his chair to stand right in front of all of us. “Well then, son…” Robert holds his hand out in front of him. “Looks like we’ll be making a few flights over the next couple of months.” He breaks out into a grin as Asher’s shoulders drop in relief. He lets go of his mom’s hand to shake his dad’s.

“I can’t wait, Dad.”

 

-----

 

Asher

 

I reach my arms around Becca’s waist from behind and pick her up off the floor.

“Asher!” she squeals, kicking her feet in the air.

I set her back down on the floor, but leave my arms around her. Bending over her shoulder, I whisper into her ear, “Thank you.”

She turns around in my arms, running her hands up my upper arms, resting them on my shoulders. “There is no need to thank me. I love you, and I want you to be happy. If that means holding your hand while you tell your parents you want something different for yourself than architecture, then I’m happy to do it.”

Did she just say “I love you” without being nervous or ridiculous about it?
“Becca, could you repeat what you just said?”

She smirks up at me. “What, that there’s no need to thank me?”

I shake my head vigorously. “No, after that.”

Becca moves her hands up to my neck. “That I want you to be happy?”

“Uh-uh. Before that.”

Then her hands are on either side of my face, pulling it down so she can whisper in my ear. “Oh, you mean the part where I said I love you?” She kisses my cheek as she moves her head until our foreheads are resting on one another.

I look into her caramel mocha eyes. “Yeah. That part. Do you still mean it? I know you said it the other night. But I just can’t help double checking after what happened this morning.”

“What do you think?” she asks, a grin the size of Texas spreading across her face.

“Well, I sure as heck hope you meant it, because I love you more than root beer barrels.”

“Wow, that’s saying something, because I know how much you love your root beer barrels.”

“You still haven’t answered my question, Becca.”

She’s giggling. GIGGLING at me! I scowl at her, because this is not funny. “I’m serious, Rebecca Haines. If you don’t answer my question, I’m going to have to take all that purple rock candy back.”

She immediately stops laughing, and tries to secure a serious look on her face. “Well, we can’t have that. I guess my answer is yes.”

I tighten my grip around her waist. “You guess?”

She shakes her head against my forehead, closing her eyes. “No, you idiot. I know. I know that I love you, I have for a long time. Even if I’ve been too afraid to admit it until this week.” And then her lips meet mine. And any doubt I might have had about her feelings for me falls away as she pours her heart and soul into this kiss. I intend to return the sentiment.

I walk her backwards toward the couch, my lips never leaving hers. I turn us so that I can sit down on the couch, and sit Becca on my lap. As I run my hands up and down her back, I feel her skin heating up through the material of her shirt. She moves her hands down my chest, then around to my back, where she grabs hold of my t-shirt.


Cough. Cough.
” Becca smiles against my lips and turns her head to look at Olivia.

“Did you need something Livvie?”

“Do you guys have to do that? Here. In the game room. Right now.”

Becca starts laughing. “Olivia, you’d better get used to it now. Asher and I are going to be doing a
lot
of kissing in the near future. And we don’t leave for college for another year.”

“Eww.” And with that, Livvie goes into the bunk room and shuts the door.

When Becca turns her beautiful eyes back to me, I raise my eyebrow. “Only in the near future?”

Her features turn serious, and she looks me right in the eyes. “No. Not only in the near future. Always.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

 

Becca

 

My Dearest Rebecca,

 

If you follow my clues,you’ll find my gifts.

They’re all leading up to this.

Can you guess?

 

Love, Asher

 

This is what’s written on the sticky note I found on top of a small paper bag when I woke up this morning. This reminds me of the scavenger hunt he sent me on for my sixteenth birthday, to celebrate the fact that I could now drive, which makes me smile. I can’t imagine what Asher could possibly have planned to do in the next couple of hours before we leave, but I’ll play along.

When I open the bag, there is a half-used bottle of hand sanitizer, along with another clue.

 

To the most beautiful, amazing girl in the world,

 

I’m pretty sure you’ll want to use this when we’re done.

But I promise before that we’ll have some fun.

Go to the place where I sunk the polar bear.

You’ll find my next gift, and a clue, right there.

 

Love, Asher

 

Doing something I’ll want to use hand sanitizer after? I’m not really sure where he’s going with this, but I climb out of bed, and make my way to the game room, bringing the used sanitizer with me. There, on top of the coffee table, is a pair of rubber gloves, and another note.
Seriously?
What could he possibly be planning?

 

Becca, m’lady,

 

I know you’re strong,

But you still might want to put these on.

Go to the spot where we watched the sun rise.

There you will find my last surprise.

 

Love, Asher

Well, okay then. I shake my head, and make my way, carrying my ‘gifts’, to the door to slide on my flip flops. When I step outside, I immediately see Asher standing at the end of the dock with another paper bag in his hand. He’s grinning from ear to ear, and although I’m confused about where this is all leading, I can’t help but run across the yard, and onto the dock. When I reach Asher, he pulls me close and kisses my forehead. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Good morning to you, too.” And that’s when I remember…I didn’t even look in the mirror before coming out here; in my pajamas and flip flops. My hair is probably all over the place, and for all I know there’s drool somewhere on my face! I pull away from Asher and run the fingers of my empty hand through my hair, hoping to salvage some part of my looks.

“Stop worrying, Becca. You look lovely.”

“How did you know?”

“You mean, besides the frantic look in your eyes, and trying to fix your hair with one hand?”

“Never mind. What’s in the bag?”

“Well, why don’t you open it and find out?”

I set my other two gifts down on the dock, and take the bag from Asher. When I reach my hand in, I feel plastic, and Styrofoam. When I pull it out of the bag, I know I’ve been had. “Really Asher? You thought the most beautiful, amazing girl in the world would want a gift of worms?”

But he just laughs at me. “No, I thought you would want the gift of one more small date before we went home. I
told
you we would go fishing this week.”

“Lord, have mercy. Do these gifts mean that you expect me to bait your hook, too?”

“Well, the thought had crossed my mind,” he says, crossing his arms in front of him, and tapping his chin with his index finger. “But then I decided, since you have been so kind as to accept this poor, wayward son as your boyfriend” —
gosh, I love that word
— “that I would let you off the hook, this time. Pun intended.”

What a dork. But that’s what I love about him. “Good. And while you’re at it, you can bait my hook too,” I say, setting the worms down on the dock as well. And then I get an idea. “What do you say we make one last little wager?”

“And what does this little wager entail?”

“Well, whoever catches the first fish wins.”

“Okay,” he says, rubbing his hands together. “And what do we get if we win?”

I grin, knowing this is going to be a real battle. “The loser has to buy donuts for the winner for the entire first week of school.”

Asher picks up the worms and immediately starts baiting his own hook. “You’re so on.”

 

-----

 

Asher

 

She really is my best friend.

But you know what they say…best friends make for the best marriages. And that idea doesn’t really scare me anymore. Not that I would tell anyone else that, especially not Becca. She would go running for the hills after everything that’s happened to her. And we’re only eighteen and seventeen; people would tell us we’re crazy.

Besides, we have a whole lot of life to live, and a whole lot of decisions to make, before we take that journey together.

BOOK: Our Song
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