bea prewett ☆ tris prior. (stiff) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2018-05-06 21:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, * kit, * terri, c: clara bea hyland, c: noah ritter |
WHO: Bea Hyland & Noah Ritter (with appearances from Rohan & Stella Hyland)
WHEN: Saturday, May 5, 2018; Night
WHERE: Noah’s Apartment → Hyland Residence
SUMMARY: Bea’s feeling out of place at prom, so she leaves early to go somewhere she can feel a little more like herself. Things go awesome and then...not so awesome.
WARNINGS: Mentions of Bea’s time on her own in Nashville. Sad things.
It had been a last-minute decision to skip out on the rest of prom and go somewhere more her speed. Bea had been sitting at the table she had claimed with Josie, Beau, and a handful of their mutual friends, watching the people around her celebrating the end of years of school together. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she’d opened up some old wounds while talking to Noah the night before, or the way she’d once again let her mother steamroll right over what she wanted in an effort to keep everyone else happy, or the way she suddenly felt like an interloper in this person and life she hardly recognized. Whatever was causing it, Bea had suddenly felt like she couldn’t breathe beneath the twinkling fairy lights and tulle. She’d shot Josie a quick text to let her know she’d catch back up with her later that night at the after party (maybe) so that Josie wouldn’t waste time looking for her at the dance, and then she’d wound her way out of the ballroom, and the hotel, and into the night air. Struck with the sudden certainty of where she wanted to go from here--going home was not an option--she’d walked the fifteen minutes it took to get to Grandma’s. By the time she’d gotten there, she had taken off the heels she hadn’t wanted to wear in the first place, and her dress was trailing almost tragically across the dirty pavement. She ordered a plate of nachos to go and, while she waited, sent off another quick text. I’ve got the nachos. You’ve got the games. Ready to show off those chin playing skills? Another twenty minutes after that, she was standing in front of Noah’s door, not even hesitating as she lifted a hand to knock firmly on the door. She couldn’t explain how Noah had so quickly come to feel so normal to her when so little else did. When she felt like she was living someone else’s life every other minute of the day, giving in to the gravitational pull created by Tris’ memories somehow felt the most like herself. Shifting the bag with the nachos to her other hand, Bea knocked one more time. Unless he made plans with Niall or Eve, Noah spent most of his evenings in a similar kind of way. It usually involved games or television, perhaps after an evening run if he had felt up to it. Without a self-defense class or any of his usual company to occupy his time, he had let himself settle in with a game that he knew like the back of his hand and expected the night to continue in an uneventful fashion. The last person that he really expected to see that evening was Bea. He was well aware of the fact that it was her prom, which just put their age difference into startling perspective. It was something he never seemed to think much about when they were talking, but there were moments when it weighed heavy on his mind. Perhaps they were destined for a friendship and nothing more, but he remembered vividly how Tobias felt for Tris and those feelings had a way of becoming his own. When he got a text from Bea, he had to read it twice before he really believed it. He had promised her that he could be persuaded, and if she was texting him on this night, she had left her dance early. He couldn’t - wouldn’t - disappoint her. He sent an affirmative response and put his game on pause, shuffling around his apartment to slip back into jeans instead of his sweatpants and pulling a tee back on over his bare chest. He tossed an empty bag of chips and put a few drink cups in the dishwasher in an effort to pick up a little of the clutter. He had it presentable by the time that he heard the knock on the door. When he pulled the door open, for a moment he had to remind himself not to stare. Despite the fact that she had abandoned her heels and dragged her hem through Dunhaven, Bea was still stunning. The dress was delicate and modest, and his lips quirked into a grin as he noted the bag of nachos in her hands, “Well, I feel drastically underdressed.” He paused just a moment, and before he could think better of it, he admitted, “You look beautiful.” Even as he said this and hoped that it didn’t cross some line that he couldn’t see, he moved back so that she could step into his apartment. Despite how much Bea wasn’t into the whole dressing up and looking fancy thing, she couldn’t help the way Noah’s compliment brought a small smile to her lips. She stepped into the apartment and glanced back at him over her shoulder as he closed the door behind her. “I should have warned you that you needed a tux to hang out with me, so that’s my fault,” she laughed, moving to set the bag down on his coffee table as though she was welcome to make herself at home. “Believe me, if I could, I’d be dressed more like you are right now.” She took a moment to take in the apartment once her hands were free of the food and abandoned shoes. It was funny to her how it only took a second to see how completely him his apartment was, despite the fact that what she knew of him she’d only gleaned over the past few weeks. It was organized and tidy, but still very much lived in. She was impressed by the sheer number of game consoles surrounding his TV, if only because she’d had no idea so many even existed. “I think I’m completely unprepared for the level of gaming you do in here, by the way,” she said, gesturing toward the wall of consoles. He was still debating the merits on whether or not it would be inappropriate to offer to let her change into something of his - privately, far away from him, maybe in another galaxy, far, far away - when she commented on his collection of consoles. Noah’s smile turned crooked and boyish as he took in the garish display. All of the consoles there were organized, but there were probably far too many of them for it to be considered a normal sort of display. “It’s...a lot, isn’t it? Most of these are incredibly outdated models. They’re all functional, but they’re no longer in production and you can’t find many working ones anymore,” he admitted, gesturing to some of the ones that were across the bottom, “I’ve had most of those since I was a kid, but I took good care of them. Sometimes I actually hook them up, but they’re really more there for nostalgia than anything else.” He indicated the few near the top, “These are the ones that get the most use now. They’re the newest models on the market with the largest variety of games.” He shrugged almost sheepishly as he glanced to where he had his hand-held systems, every game he had ever owned organized alphabetically by console, and the gaming PC that sat at a desk nearby, “I took my hobbies and my studies very seriously, but it was really all one in the same.” When he had moved, those systems had been packed the most carefully, and he was still thankful that they had all made it in one piece. “Hey...if you want, I could probably find something less formal for you to change into. Everything I have would be too big, but if it’s more comfortable than the dress, I can lend a shirt and some pants,” he put the offer out there just in case, but she was under no obligation to accept. “No, it’s perfect,” Bea replied, moving to study each of the consoles, noting their aesthetic differences. She could tell which ones he’s had for a long time, though they all seemed to be in good condition from what she could tell. “You wouldn’t be a very credible game designer if you didn’t care enough about games to have a display like this, right?” She went on to peruse the titles on the some of the games there, too, before turning back to look at Noah. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?” she asked, not wanting to impose, but also desperately wanting to get out of the dress she wore. It was pretty, she had to admit, and far nicer than anything she’d ever owned before. She thought she might not even mind wearing something like it to another fancy event at some point, though she thought it would be better if that sort of even were further in the future, more distanced from her past. “If I’d had the forethought to consider it, I’d have brought a change of clothes with me. I’m not totally sure what I was planning on doing about the after party later if I had to stay in this dress.” “I guess not. Niall has a similar set up to this, with a few differences here or there, so at least I know my business partner is as credible and serious about games as I am,” he laughed a little, knowing full well that his best friend was just as dedicated to the world of gaming as he was. They’d met online playing a game, after all. It was for that very reason, if not for the game itself, that World of Warcraft would always have a little bit of a special place in Noah’s repertoire. “Thankfully, you brought your after party to a place that has plenty of spare clothes,” he pointed out, “Just let me grab a few things.” He disappeared back into his bedroom, but it didn’t take long for him to rifle through a few drawers and find a smaller pair of basketball shorts and sweatpants for her to choose between and both a tee and a hoodie, in case she was cold. He wanted to give her options, anyway. He left all of them at the end of his bed, which was thankfully already made. Emerging from the room, he gestured back, “I got you a couple of things to pick from, so just...whichever you want, and I’ll be out here.” He moved back to the couch where his controller rested, the game still on pause from earlier. It didn’t take long for Bea to change into the clothes that Noah had set out for her and, once she’d found her way out of her dress and into the t-shirt and sweatpants with the legs rolled up to accommodate for her shortness, she felt so much more like herself. She laid the dress carefully over the side of the bed to change back into later, at least somewhat aware of the fact that her mother would be disappointed if she treated the expensive piece of clothing with complete disregard. She felt a small stab of guilt over having left the dance that her mother had worked so hard to prepare her for, but she reminded herself that no one had actually asked her what she’d wanted, or she could have spared everyone the effort in the first place. She emerged just a few minutes later, walking back into the room where Noah sat with the controller in hand. Bea had the thought that maybe she should feel a bit more like a guest in his apartment, but she moved without hesitation to grab the nachos before taking up the space next to him on the couch without waiting for him to offer her the seat. She’d meant to keep a friendly distance between them, but she was keenly aware of the fact that her feet had gotten caught in that gravitational pull she couldn’t resist and she’d sat much closer than she’d intended. Bea didn’t move. Instead, she opened up the box and grabbed a nacho. “I hope you don’t mind me digging in. Or me eating on your couch. I just realized I probably should have asked about that, but..” she punctuated the thought with a shrug. “What are you playing?” He tried to ignore the fact that she looked comfortable and good in his clothes. She looked far more like herself, even with her hair still done in its style for prom. Even though they’d only met in person a handful of times, Noah felt as though he’d known her for longer. Months...maybe years. It was hard to put a label on that kind of comfort, especially when he didn’t often find himself at all invested in anyone until long after he met them. With Bea, it had been immediate. He had opened up to her about things that it had taken an agonizingly long time to say to other people. As a general rule, Noah didn’t like discussing his feelings, but it was somehow easier with her...as though he knew that she would understand without judging him for it. He noticed that she sat closer than he had anticipated her to, but when she didn’t move away, he was relieved. He relaxed, shaking his head a little even as she started to doubt whether or not she should have brought the nachos into his living room, “This is fine. I eat here way more than I should,” he told her even as he invited himself to one of the nachos from the box, “It’s called Skyrim. It’s a very open-world kind of game. I’m a level 34 on this playthrough, and I’ve barely started the main quest,” he unpaused the game and clicked over to the world map which was mostly explored. He panned around the screen to show the magnitude of the map, “There’s so much to do here that it’s kind of insane. It’s hard to do everything in one playthrough, but it’s based in a fantasy world where it’s all magic, swords, bows, armor, and dragons. Well, and ruins like the one I’m in right now that are set up with traps and the undead frequently rise to try to kick your ass.” As if to demonstrate, he walked his character right past a draugr that he knew would wake just by looking at it, and with a well placed spell and sword in hand, killed it for good, “I’m actually at the end of this ruin. They spent the next couple of hours like that. Noah taught Bea how to navigate the game and she was predictably, comically bad at it. She laughed at him while he tried to balance nachos and game play, his attempt at playing with his chin everything that she had hoped it would be. It was as though they’d been this way before. Easy, comfortable. For the first time in a very long time, she felt like she fit back into her own skin, like she was more herself than she had ever been sitting here in Noah’s apartment, in his clothes, sharing his space. She had other places she loved to be, too. She loved spending nights at Josie’s, or having dinner with Danielle, or curled up with her sister while they talked and watch movies. Being with Noah, though, was like multiple pieces of herself falling into place, like she’d been spread too thin but was now put back together just right. At some point, she’d shifted closer to him, leaning comfortably against him while he took over the controller, leading the character through various quests, her head occasionally coming to rest against his shoulder. She liked watching him play, and not just because the game itself was interesting. She liked how gracefully his hands shifted over the controller as though it was just another extension of himself. She liked the expressions he made that she was pretty sure he didn’t even realize he was making. She liked how intently he poured his energy into this thing that he loved. Without noticing the shift over the past few weeks of getting to know him, she realized that she liked him rather than some memory of someone he might have been. “I like this game,” she said after he’d finished a piece of the quest he’d been on. “Is this the kind of thing you design when you’re at work all day?” The longer that Bea was there, the more Noah forgot to worry about things like space or social stigmas. He didn’t know exactly why she had left her prom early, but he thought the least he could do was make the rest of her evening worthwhile. He found himself doing or saying some things just to make her smile. He coveted her laugh. Sometimes it was difficult to tell where Noah ended and Tobias began, but when he was with Bea, it didn’t seem to matter. He was a little bit of both, and the two halves of him had never been more in agreement than when she was in his presence. With Bea leaning her weight into his side, he felt more energized than he’d ever been. As long as she didn’t mind the proximity, he wasn’t going to push her away. Instead, he let himself enjoy it, explaining little parts of the game to her as he wandered through Skyrim and all that it had to offer. His smile quirked at her question, and he hit the pause button on the game, “Sort of, yeah. We’ve had to build...everything from scratch, because we didn’t want to do something that had been done before. All of the concept stuff seems to keep growing. We’ll finish a map and then get inspiration for a new section or some other obstacle to put in the way of the hero. It’s a lot of design work, figuring out what kinds of weapons and armor you want available, what the story is going to do and where it’s going to take your protagonist. It’s...building a whole world for someone else to live in.” He paused a moment, but added, “I’ve got my hands in a little bit of everything with the business. I told you before that I’m the one that has to talk to people? So, I make sure our business operates as a profitable business, getting people excited and vying for a chance to get our project on their platform. Sometimes that takes me away from the development portion, but I do a lot of coding until my eyes cross, too.” Bea smiled while she watched him talk and explain what he did on a daily basis. It still struck her as a little funny that he should be their marketing and public relations point person, if only because she was still trying to imagine someone like Tobias being in public relations, but he was good with people. She’d seen the way he’d taught the self defense class. “You’ll have to show me a demo of what you’re coding sometime. Does your game have a badass female lead? Because I think it should definitely have the option of a badass female lead,” she said, grinning. She’d meant to say more, but just then her phone started ringing. She assumed it would be Josie asking if and when she’d be getting to the after party (though Bea was loathe to leave where she was just then), but one look at the phone told her that it was her mother. Brow furrowed, she answered the phone. She was barely able to get a greeting out before that panicked voice could be heard coming from the phone. “What? I’m fine. I’m at a friend’s place. I told you I was going out after prom. I just left prom sooner than midnight.” She paused, listening. “What do you mean you couldn’t find me? [...] You were tracking my phone? How long have you been-- yeah, no, it does matter if--” she huffed out a breath as her mother continued on. “Fine. All right. I’m on my way.” Bea pressed end on her phone and, momentarily forgetting that she wasn’t alone in the room, she let out a strangled, frustrated growl. Her fingers squeezed so tight around the phone that she worried she might break it. “I have to go,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut tight. “Apparently hearing my voice on the phone isn’t proof enough that I’m not, I don’t know, dead or something.” He was going to insist that, of course, their game had the option of a badass female lead because how could it be any other way with such strong female presences in both his life and Niall’s. Whatever he was going to say about it, however, faded into the back of his mind when Bea answered her phone. He couldn’t hear everything that was said, but he could tell that the voice on the other end of the phone was panic-gripped. Whoever it was - probably a parent - was worried about her, but had also crossed some pretty serious personal boundaries by the sound of it. If they were tracking her and she hadn’t known them all that long to begin with? He couldn’t really imagine that going over well at all. Noah was more than a little disappointed that their evening had gone so suddenly sideways, though they’d had a few hours in which he’d lost track of time. Though perhaps there were still some boundaries in place, he felt comfortable enough to put his arm around Bea’s shoulders in a half-hug and give her a gentle squeeze against his side in some small attempt to impart some comfort or ease from the strain of the call, “At least let me drive you home. I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but it would make me worry less.” Bea wanted to fight against anyone needing to worry about her, but ultimately nodded. “That would be nice, thank you.” Despite her instinct to fight, she knew that it wasn’t Noah’s concern that was upsetting her. To the contrary, her frustration eased just a little knowing that he’d come to care enough to offer the ride. She glanced up at him, saying a hundred different things in her expression. “I don’t actually want to go, you know,” she settled on, figuring it said most of the things she’d been trying to say without words to begin with. “If I wasn’t 100% sure my parents wouldn’t hesitate to send the Dunhaven police out searching for me if they didn’t hear from me in the next twenty minutes, I wouldn’t go,” she said, and then added with incredulity, “I can’t believe they’ve been tracking my phone.” His heart squeezed at her admission, searching that look in her eyes and taking in what felt like more words than what she really spoke. He didn’t want her to go, either. In fact, he was pretty certain that if he had a way to stop time, he’d just pause tonight for forever and enjoy this comfortable familiarity that they’d found with one another, “I don’t want you to go either.” He sighed softly before he added, “You can come back to visit any time, though. That’s an open door if you want it.” He motioned to his front door. It was more a figure of speech, but if she knocked, he’d always answer, “I’d be pissed if my parents had tracked my phone, too...especially since you’re legally an adult, even if you do live there.” Perhaps he should have tried to be more understanding to them, but his loyalty wasn’t divided. Bea was glad that that feeling, at least, seemed to be mutual. Her sentiment had meant a lot of things--that she wasn’t ready to leave him, that she wasn’t ready to return to her parents’ home--but mostly that she wished she could curl up in this moment where she felt so at home and stay there for just a while longer. She sighed, deciding to take a moment longer to revel in the comfort of Noah’s arm around her before she moved away. Her hand came up and rested on his arm, her head fitting perfectly just beneath his chin. “Every time I think I’m on the brink of normalcy, something happens to remind me that there’s nothing normal about my life. I felt normal tonight, though. For a few hours, I felt like I was just me again, so thank you for that. I’ll almost definitely take advantage of the open invitation.” After a few more moments, she finally forced herself to put her feet on the floor and get up. She retrieved her dress from his room, though didn’t waste time trying to get back into it. She could bring his things back to him some other time. Glancing back at him while she lingered near the door, she steeled herself and said, “All right. Ready?” Although he had gotten up from the couch to grab his keys and his wallet while she secured her dress, he hesitated just a moment when she asked if he was ready. He knew that she had to go. He knew that this would not be the last time that he saw her, even though there was a strange edge to the moment like a dull knife scraping against a wound he didn’t know he had. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t know that he could ever be ready to watch her leave, but at least he would know she was safe. Whatever protectiveness that he felt over her was probably misplaced...something left over from Tobias, though he had never felt quite like he did in this moment during a memory. Getting her home safe was what needed to happen right now. They had more time. There would be more days of figuring out whatever this was, and right now it was selfish to keep delaying. The words stuck in his throat, but he managed a small smile, “Let’s go.” -- Bea wasn’t sure what emotion it was that was propelling her forward toward her parents’ house. As much as she had grown over the past few months, it was still difficult to really think of it as home, not in the least because she still felt like she had stolen someone else’s life. She wasn’t a stranger to taking what she needed to survive but Clara’s life, the one she’d been stolen from, was such a grand heist that it felt like too much. She tried to remind herself that it wasn’t Stella and Rohan’s fault that they still didn’t understand just how hard it was to think of herself as the daughter they had lost. After all, she had a tendency to keep everything close to the chest, in part to spare them from hurt, in part to spare herself from losing what little normalcy she’d managed to gain since moving into this house. Her perception of herself might not be able to change overnight, but that didn’t mean she actually wanted to lose this family that had been handed to her. Even so, Stella’s words had made her angry enough that the risk seemed very small just then. We couldn’t find you on the GPS tracker. In some ways, Bea understood why they’d want an extra layer of protection against losing her again but the thought that they were tracking her movements even without the presence of danger felt like such a violation of her privacy. It felt like a violation of trust. She’d noticed the phone finder app and had thought it was one of those factory presets, so she’d shut it off. Never had she imagined that her parents were using it on her to keep tabs on where she was at all times. She couldn’t fully explain why it made her so angry, so disappointed, but it did. The drive back to her parents’ house had been tense and silent after Noah had offered to drive her there so that she didn’t have to walk. She might have preferred to walk, but she couldn’t confidently say that her feet would have actually lead her back to the house. As she got out of the car, she gave Noah a strained smile, thanking him for the evening. Without giving it much thought, she’d reached out and given his hand a quick squeeze, though she was pretty sure it was more to take some courage from him than it was a gesture to assure him that everything was fine. Bea pulled her dress from the backseat and, with a final, uncertain glance back at him, she left Noah to drive back home while she walked inside to face whatever was waiting for her. They were waiting for her in the formal living room as though they’d been counting the seconds to make sure she arrived on time. “Who was that?” Rohan asked, his voice gruff in a way she hadn’t heard it before. Bea hadn’t even had a moment to sit down before asking. She shrugged. “My friend, Noah.” “Is that where you’ve been, then? Is that where you got those clothes?” There was a hint of accusation in her father’s voice. Judgment, too. “Yes, actually, but I don’t appreciate the unspoken assumption I hear.” Rohan sucked in a deep breath as though he were preparing his words. “What do you expect us to assume when you disappear from the place you’re supposed to be? When you go completely off the grid without the common courtesy of letting us know where you are?” Bea’s nostrils flared. “I wasn’t off the grid. If either of you had thought to call or text before you flipped your shit, you would have known exactly where I was. I answered my goddamn phone the one and only time either of you called.” “Watch your language, Clara.” “I’m not Clara!” Bea yelled back, all of the emotions that had been bubbling and churning since the phone call rushing up and out of her. Stella, who had been sitting on the sofa quiet while Rohan spoke, flinched. Bea felt the same guilt that had maintained her own silence and compliance at the sight of the gesture. She swallowed it back, though, because this conversation was too important to back down from. “I’m not Clara,” she said again, this time more calmly, more defeated. “Clara’s never coming back. But I’m here. I’m here exactly as I am and I can’t change who I am for you, or for anyone. And who I am is someone who’s spent the last seven years on her own with no one to answer to but herself, who’s had no one to protect her but herself, who’s done a pretty damn good job of surviving. So I don’t appreciate this apparent lack of trust that’s led one or both of you to think it’s okay to monitor me without my knowledge.” Both of her parents looked like she’d hit them with more than just her honesty, but it was Rohan who looked ready to hit back. Stella just kept watching her as though it was more important to wait for the right words to say rather than retort with what she really wanted to say. Bea supposed they had a lot more in common than either of them sometimes remembered. “You think we don’t know that you’re you? That we don’t realize that you’ve been irreparably changed by what happened? Cla--Bea,” Rohan began, his face turning red. “We have done everything in our power to bring you back to us and everything we do now is to make sure you never have to be alone again. I’d expect a little bit more gratitude from you after everything we’ve done for you.” The tension that rose in Stella’s shoulders made Bea certain that even she knew that Rohan had said the wrong thing. “I am not something that needs to be repaired,” Bea spat, her voice dangerously quiet. “And if you really think that I’ve been so ungrateful for you taking in this broken stray that you think you need to fix, then you can just stop trying. I haven’t needed your help since I was four and I don’t need it now.” Rohan looked like he was about to rage back at her, but Stella finally stood up, gesturing for him to back down as she approached Bea, a sadness in her eyes that made Bea need to look away. Stella’s hands found Bea’s arms and she held her in place, almost as if she could see the invisible need Bea felt to run away before she could be discarded. “We don’t think you’re broken, baby. That’s not what he meant. But we can’t be expected to know what you’ve been through or who you’ve become when you won’t tell us. I know you think you’re protecting us from something we don’t want to hear, but we do want to hear it. We need to hear it,” Stella said, proving that she saw more of Bea than Bea thought she ought to been able to. “If you had never been taken from us, I still wouldn’t have expected you to be perfect. And we are not, by any means, perfect parents. Maybe it was a mistake to track your phone without you knowing, but you have to know that we only did it to make sure we didn’t lose you again. After we lost you, we never stopped wondering what we could have done differently and we don’t want to have to wonder that anymore. That’s why we did it. Not because we don’t trust you but because we know better than to trust the other people in this world.” Bea felt her heart clenching as tight as her throat, some of her anger ebbing away. Her dress fell to the floor as her fingers came up to curl comfortingly around her mother’s wrists. But then Rohan, driven by his own emotions rather than his logic, added, “But I won’t apologize for looking out for you. I don’t care how long you spent without structure, doing whatever the hell you wanted, we’re your parents. When you change your plans, I expect you to call us.” Her hands fell away and she stepped back, looking as though Rohan had just raised a hand to her. “Is that what you think my childhood was? Just doing whatever the hell I wanted because I felt like it?” She scoffed. “I was ten when I started living on the streets just so that I could escape the revolving door of foster and group homes that didn’t want me, each one worse than the one before it. Where was your structure when doing whatever the hell I wanted meant living on a stolen loaf of bread and three cans of ravioli for a week? Where was your divine parental intervention when the only real rules I could live by were the ones that made sure no one could rob me or kill me in my sleep, that ensured that I’d make it from one day to the next? Huh? Where were you then?” “It wasn’t our fault,” Rohan yelled back despite every effort Stella made to calm him down, “We did everything we could to find you!” “Then why didn’t you!” The words were out of her mouth, tumbling as quickly as the hot tears that came to her eyes with them, before she even had a chance to stop them. “Why didn’t you! I wasn’t hard to find. I wasn’t hiding. I was right there, waiting for someone to show up and want me and no one ever did. You never did.” Her tears seemed to cut through the anger that had been fueling her father and, though he was blurred through her tears, she could feel the anger and the tension deflate in him. “Bea,” he said, stepping closer and reaching out to pull him to her, “we would trade just about anything in this world to have found you sooner. We always wanted you, we still want you.” She shrugged off his attempt to hug her, not finding any comfort in his words just then, not when they’d been preceded by his outburst. Without looking at either of them again, she knelt down to scoop up the discarded dress. “Thank you for the dress, Stella. Everyone thought it looked nice. Could I be excused?” “Bea,” her mother pleaded quietly, searching for words that weren’t there. But Bea was already moving toward the stairs, toward her room, toward another sleepless, restless night. |