Tuck Sinn

33

He hurried again. What was the deal? He loved Becky. Always would. So he walked and walked, back around to the school building. The campus was never locked up, and teachers never stayed there past the time the students did, and so Tom and Becky would be alone there.

Tom came back into the courtyard. So many years of everything. So much happiness and sadness and embarrassment here, with Becky.

Tom found her again, and walked up to her.

"So... What's going on, Tom?" Becky asked. The nervousness in his stomach echoed that of her voice. Her voice... it was all so real. So, so much to think about.

"I wanna talk to you, Becky." Tom said. He took her hand and walked with her slowly to one of the empty classrooms. One of the classrooms for the little kids— the classroom they first got "engaged" in.

"...Tom?"

He glanced down at her and realized his grip on her hand was harsh.

"Sorry, I..." Tom breathed in, out, and smiled at her. "Becky, it sure has been a lot, being with you." He said, and then immediately saw her eyes widen. Her empty hand went to the bottom hem of her dress. "I— I mean, we've been through a lot." Tom said, and his empty hand wandered into his schoolbag's pocket, with the old little ring in the small wood box. "And I've been with you most of my life." Tom said.

And his breath caught after that. What was a few more years, being together? Was was his life? Nothing, with her. But it felt wrong. The words he was saying were how they should be, but... there was something in Tom's mind that made his heart skip the wrong way and made a pit in his stomach as he continued. It was like he was getting farther from what it should be. He thought of Huck, for some reason. What was wrong with him? Becky was the best thing he had! Why was his body betraying him, so?

"We been through thick and thin. And... this part isn't anything more than telling you I won't have anybody but you, ever. So, Becky," Tom tightened his fingers around the box. If it wasn't anything then why did he feel so conflicted? He started to pull it out of his backpack. "Will you..." he looked at her. His eyes felt wild and his skin was fiery and his heart was cold. Why? Why? It shouldn't be like this. Becky deserved everything good he could give her.

"Will you marry me?" Tom asked, suddenly, before he could stop. He was pulling out the box, kneeling, opening it. The air swirled in his chest and blocked the oxygen in his throat. The words were sudden. They wrapped coldly around him as soon as he said it. It was perfect, on the surface. and Tom wished violently that he could take it back. But why? This was supposed to be perfect.

Becky's hands came up to her neck, clasped together under her chin. And then they went down to the bottom hem of her skirt and fiddled with it. And everything around Tom just darkened. He saw her smile, and then look at him.

"Oh, Tom..." her voice was much too quiet. She really examined him, and Tom didn't even know what she could be looking for. He just waited there. This wasn't right.

Tom's head rushed with heat and cold and he was dizzy. He was still kneeling, his knee pressed against the harsh floor. "Oh..." He just needed an answer from her. "Oh, Tom, get up." She said. He did, and just held the box in his hands. There was sadness in her voice, he could tell now. "Tom, I know you don't want this." She said.

"What? Becky, I—"

"Now, don't play me for a fool, Tom Sawyer. You've seemed upset this whole day. And a marriage is supposed to make both of us happy, right? I'm happy, of course, Tom, because I'm always happy with you." She said, giving a small smile. "But your eyes give you away, Tom." She said. He stood, empty, in front of her. "We can marry eventually, but... But... I can see it in your eyes. If you need time, I'll give you it. That's what it's about. Not about wearing some beautiful ring." She said. And his face burned and his heart was fleeing. "Just a little longer, Tom. For you to get yourself situated."

"Okay." Tom said. His head was hot and compounding and he couldn't think. For some reason, he kept on thinking of Huck. The recesses of his mind were in control, and he just had to watch. "Okay, Becky. I love you."

"And I love you." She said. Why wasn't he arguing? Why wasn't he saying it— saying that he was fine, that he wants to marry her, and that it's all he wants? This was supposed to be their moment! The place they first got "engaged", the place they have been together in all along! This was going horribly. His mouth was closed and dry and he couldn't open it. He thought this would work. He thought this would be the solution.

He closed the box. And he then felt this awful weight, this thing in him.

With closing the box, putting it back in his pocket, he felt a horrible relief.

He realized why his breath was always gone.

His heart beat fast.

This was wrong. This wasn't what was supposed to happen.

There was a mixing in his chest of feelings he shouldn't be having. He needed to talk with Huckleberry. Becky smiled and turned away.

"Let's be going, now." She said. She took his hand, and all he could think on was how he wanted it to be Huck's. He needed his thoughts to stop. He should be upset they weren't getting married. But he wasn't.

He wanted to talk to Huck. ...He needed to stay away from Huck.

He put the box away. His mind was a blur and was split between so many different places and times and memories, but he walked her home, and stared in her eyes and smiled and watched her smile back with a perplexing pain.

He walked her home.

He looked in her eyes one last time and only thought of his best friend. The friend that Tom hardly knew yet and anymore, and the friend that had helped Tom with everything. The one with the smooth and dark and soothing voice and the eyes that carried so much that Tom didn't know.

Becky went inside, and Tom was alone. His mind was skidding, racing, humming. He was rejected, but... He was glad. Relieved.

In the rushing of his heart and the blur in his head, he knew absolutely.

He was in love with Huck.