All Too Well ⏤ Tim Shepard | ✓

CHAPTER TWELVE

Marlene, Annie's younger sister, answers the door, her blonde hair in curlers. She's the splitting image of Annie, only younger; they have inherited the same shoulder-length honey coloured hair and piercing eyes.

When Becca had first met Annie, it had taken a long time for Becca to look at her properly in her eyes. Annie had always seemed all-knowing, like she could find someone's deepest secrets shrouded in their heart from one look.

Marlene was the same, which was ridiculous considering she is only fourteen. "Annie's in her room," Marlene tells her without inflection. She merely blinks, resembling a cat.

Becca knows she should ask Marlene how her summer is, ask her if she's excited about starting high school in the fall. Instead, she nods her head and hopes she doesn't walk too fast the hallway to Annie's bedroom.

"Marlene scared ya again?" Annie questions without looking up from her fashion magazine as Becca slams the door shut behind her.

Becca knows there's no point denying it. Annie is lying on her stomach, flicking through a magazine as her freshly painted nails dry. They're a soft pink like the colour of cotton candy.

"I need to talk to you." Becca needs to talk to somebody. The words are on the tip of her tongue, begging to tumble out like a stack of cards.

Annie looks up, sensing Becca's tone. The magazine gets discarded to the side as she settles on a comfortable position against her pillows, hands resting over her stomach. "What's happened?"

Becca doesn't move from her position against the door. "George and I ended things. Well, can ya really end things if they never started? Anyway, I told George that nothing would happen between us. 'Cause we were at a pool party with some rich kids and some girls were there and one was sayin' that I wouldn't be right with George ⏤ and she ain't wrong, but not 'cause I'm from the East Side, but because I don't have feelings for him." Becca rambles, stringing words on a wire without taking a breath.

"Becca, breathe," Annie instructs.

Becca takes a deep breath.

"Now start again. Slowly," Annie emphasises the last word. "I didn't get half of what you said."

"One of George's friends was having a pool party today and we went together. George went inside and these two girls we went to school with started askin' about George. One girl looked shocked that I could be datin' George ⏤ and I could be datin' George, if I wanted to."

"Who's this girl anyway? I'll get Billy to slash her tires," Annie interjects, infuriated by the slight against Becca.

Becca loves her best friend.

"She's nobody important. Then George and I leave and I realise I gotta be honest with him, 'cause I don't want to lead him on and I've finally realised something; George Russell ain't the boy I wanna be with."

Annie remains silent, biting down on her bottom lip.

"It's Tim. Tim is the boy I wanna be with," Becca drops the words she's realised all long. It's always been Tim, even when she was too distracted to realise it. It's always been Tim and it will always be Tim.

"Jesus Christ, Becca," Annie breathes out, "you've really gone and fallen for Tim Shepard."

"I'm in love with Tim Shepard," Becca says out loud, feeling the words on her tongue. A weight on her shoulders has been lifted as she finally lets herself be honest.

"Love?" Annie is hysterical. "You're actually in love? With Tim Shepard of all boys?"

"So how are you gonna get Tim to say those words back?" Annie asks. Becca is surprised with how well she's taking the news. Annie, almost as though she's reading Becca's mind, rolls her eyes and adds, "I was serious when I said I'm gonna try to judge less.