All Too Well ⏤ Tim Shepard | ✓

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Becca wakes up to a quiet apartment and a knot in her stomach that hasn't disappeared overnight. The silence that surrounds her is deafening as she pulls her bedsheets over her head, hiding her from the outside world.

The television isn't on, she can't hear two pairs of low voices from the kitchen and there aren't any clinking of dishes in the sink. She is alone in the apartment ⏤ her parents choosing to leave to avoid being here with her.

Becca understands where she has inherited her avoidance tendencies from.

Ginny is lying on the arm of the sofa, tail swishing as she stares at Becca when she shuffles into the kitchen. She expects Ginny to leap from the sofa to curl herself around Becca's feet as she normally does every morning when Becca shuffles out of her room, bleary from sleep.

Ginny's stare is unflinching as she remains moored on the arm of the sofa.

"I'm not in the mood for this," Becca tells her cat, shaking her head. Then, realising she is talking out loud to her cat who certainly isn't able to respond back, shakes her head again. This time at herself.

As Becca sits on the sofa, television on to drown out her thoughts with a bowl of cereal in her hands, Ginny remains on the arm of the sofa, eyes unblinkingly narrowed at Becca. She feels as though she is being chastised for something, and as Becca leans over to scratch Ginny behind her ears, Ginny leaps off the sofa and disappears down the hallway.

Becca sighs, leaning back. Even her cat doesn't want to be around her.

The morning passes by slowly as Becca stays glued to the sofa, eyes on the television. Old reruns of Get Smart are playing and Becca immerses herself in the adventures of Agent Maxwell Smart and Agent 99. Her parents haven't come home and Becca tries not to read too much into that, but she can't help herself.

A knock on the door interrupts her impromptu Get Smart marathon. The person on the other side knocks again in a series of rapid raps. Becca gets up, wrapping her robe around her. Whoever it is doesn't need to see her pyjamas. It's probably Diana, asking to borrow some sugar or who has come to rummage through the Atkins' fridge for food.

It isn't Diana on the other side of the door. It's Tim. Becca slams the door in his face in shock and rests against it, a hand on her chest.

"Becca..." Tim's voice filters through the door. "Don't be like that."

Becca fixes her robe, making sure she is covered ⏤ Tim does not need to see her bunny pyjamas. She wrenches the door open, fixing Tim with a glare.

"Do you know how long I waited around for you last night? The first words coming out of your mouth should be 'I'm sorry'. What was so important that you couldn't show up yesterday? Or did you just forget?"

Tim glances around him, noticing Becca's neighbour outside unlocking his front door. Tim turns back to Becca. "Can we do this inside? I don't want an audience."

Becca has half a mind to slam the door in Tim's face. He left her alone, worrying that something had happened to him. Her mind had conjured up images of Tim beaten up in a deserted alleyway with nobody to help. She had panicked and was tossing and turning in her bed all night, scared out of her mind.

And now he decides to show up, looking as though he'd rather have teeth pulled out than apologise for standing Becca up.

Becca laughs; a sharp, cutting sound that slices through the space between them. "Have you ever apologised to anybody in your life? 'Cause this ain't the way to go about it."

Tim sighs, tension leaving his body as he hangs his head. His shoulders slope down, like the air has been sucked out of him. "I ain't good at this," he admits, not looking at Becca. "I don't care much to apologise 'cause most of the time I'm not sorry. And I don't have a lot of people I care about ⏤ it's a short list, but you're on it."