All Too Well ⏤ Tim Shepard | ✓

CHAPTER TWO

"Sorry about the wait, the line was so long," George explains with a roll of his eyes as he hands Becca the paper bag with their food.

"Don't worry. We're stupid to go to a fast food place on a federal holiday anyway," Becca says, opening the bag and sorting through the food.

"Us and about a hundred other people." George rolls his eyes again and gestures to inside the store. Through the window, Becca can see it bursting to the seams with people. It's why they agreed to eat in the parking lot while George went in and ordered for them.

Becca hands George his cheeseburger and fries. She bites into her own cheeseburger, swinging her legs as they sit on the hood of George's car. It's midday and the sun has reached its peak, beating down on them. Becca can already feel her shoulders becoming tender. There's no wind to give them a respite and no clouds in the sky to cover the sun.

"How's Michigan?" Becca asks once she's finished chewing. She takes a sip of her Coca Cola, relishing how cold it is. She keeps the drink wrapped around her fingers, soaking the cold beads of condensation dripping down the cup and onto her hand. "What's it like?"

"It ain't like being in Tulsa, that's for sure," George says, shoving a few fries in his mouth.

"How's that?" Becca's genuinely interested. She's never been out of Tulsa before. Her mother has some family in Missouri but they have never gone up to visit them before. They've come down a few times when Becca was young but that stopped after Becca and her mother moved into the public housing complex and her mother gave up her life working to support them both.

"It's much more humid in Michigan than here," George states, nodding his head at Becca's disbelief. "Like ya wouldn't believe," he adds, "I was sweatin' like a dog all last summer."

"I heard Florida is real humid. Annie's got a cousin livin' there and she sends postcards always complaining about the weather ruinin' her hair," Becca replies.

"Well I won't be visitin' the new park Walt Disney is planning on buildin' there," George snorts, nose wrinkling.

"I ain't ever visiting Disneyland."

"Why's that?" George tilts his head, looking at Becca curiously.

"Why go across the country for some rides when there's plenty of good rides here in Tulsa?" Becca responds. "And I'm too old for Mickey Mouse," she jokes and George laughs.

"What about travelling? You fancy visiting other countries?" George questions, finishing his burger. He wipes his hands on a napkin before depositing his rubbish in the bag.

"I haven't been out of Tulsa let alone out of the country," Becca answers, finishing the last of her fries.

"If you could, would you?"

Becca shrugs. "Haven't thought 'bout it." It's an honest answer; she really hasn't thought about it because she knows it's not possible. She's never been a dreamer and when her father left them it forced her to learn to be realistic quick smart. Dreaming about impossible things when you're struggling to get by everyday is a waste of time. "What about you?"

"I'd like to. Maybe once I've paid off my college loans," George answers, shrugging his shoulders. "Or maybe when I've got a family. Then I can take the little ones to Disneyland and see Mickey Mouse." He smiles at Becca who laughs.

"When you're a big hotshot lawyer?" She teases, plastic straw of her Coca Cola in between her lips. Becca can see it now; George will become a successful lawyer and marry a girl from a respectable family ⏤ probably a middle-class girl like him or even richer. They'll get married and have multiple kids and a dog in a house with a picket-fence. The essence of the American Dream.