a pale shade of blue
Characters: Becka and Adam Setting: Becka’s room, early afternoon
Adam’s mind was on what Cal had suggested, the sleep therapy things, how to get his memories back or at least get rid of the nightmares, and it was hanging like a low cloud over his head while he ate a reasonable lunch he’d grabbed in his room. Becka’s message was actually a relief, something to get distracted by and a reason to leave his own mind and maybe focus on someone else.
Not long after she sent him the message he was headed to her room, leaning on the doorway as he knocked, able to find a smile he thought he would have had to force. Instead it was just there, pulling at the corners of his mouth with little to no effort. It might be a bad idea, but he really did like being around her.
Becka had taken a few minutes after messaging Adam to finish up writing out her thoughts about everything her and Dominic had talked about, feeling a little better for getting it out even though she knew her thoughts would probably go around in circles for a while yet. It was just the way she worked, and these circumstances were a lot different than normal, so she figured it was probably normal and maybe even a good thing that she put some thought into everything. She’d moved the little side table again, setting it on top of the tarp laid out, and then covered it with one of the other tarps she’d grabbed so she could put the paint pan on it.
She was just picking up a can of paint when she heard the knock at the door and looked over to see Adam standing there. Smiling, Becka ignored the way her stomach did those same flips it had done earlier when she and Dominic had been talking about Things. “Hey! You’re just in time, I haven’t started painting yet,” she said, setting the can down and looking for something to pop the lid off of it.
“Lucky me,” Adam said with a bit of a dry tone to his voice, moving into her room to sit on the edge of her bed. “What color are you painting it?” he said, looking at the can, wanting to help but sure he was completely out of his element.
Becka pouted, trying to hide a grin at that tone. “What, you mean you don’t feel so lucky getting to come help me paint? Unless you’re just here to watch, in which case I fully expect you to provide some kind of entertainment,” she teased as she found the tool she’d brought up earlier to open the can with. “It’s this really pretty light blue,” she answered, popping the lid off and setting it aside.
“So you don’t think I’m entertaining just being here?” Adam asked, looking at her curiously. He watched her for a moment longer and then got up half to drift closer to her again, half to check out the color. “Light blue. I think that fits you actually.”
Looking at him with a speculative expression, Becka pretended to think about it. “Hmm, maybe. I guess we’ll see,” she said with a little laugh. She glanced at him when he stood up and moved closer, looking back at the can as she tipped it to pour the paint into the pan, hoping that the little bit of nerves she still felt at everything she’d admitted to Dominic weren’t showing. “Yeah? So you don’t think I’m, like, a neon pink kind of girl?” she asked as she set the can back down and replaced the lid.
“You could be a neon pink, but I think I like the side of you that isn’t the cheerleader,” Adam said with a smile, watching the paint pour out and getting an idea. “This is soft...sweet. Like you.”
Becka gasped, looking at him with a jokingly shocked expression. “What’s wrong with the cheerleader side of me?” she asked with a little huff. Her expression softened at his next words though, and she had the thought that if he kept saying things like that, she was going to get in over her head fast. “Thanks,” she replied, pretending her cheeks weren’t tinged a faint pink.
Adam made a face, tilting his head at her with one eyebrow raised. “What on earth am I going to do with the cheerleader side of you?” he asked. He wasn’t at all sure, but he was curious what kind of answer she’d give. The blush surprised him though. He wasn’t the type capable of making girls blushed. Nor was he used to girls who blushed. Seeing it though made him smirk more, really, really liking it.
Becka bit her lip, grinning as she shrugged. “I don’t know! But it’s all a part of me, so you should probably figure it out,” she teased with a little laugh. Moving to her bed, she picked up one of the brushes, dipped it in the paint and started painting along the edges of the wall.
“Nothing you can think of?” Adam asked, watching her with his head tilted to the side a little as she painted. “And here I thought you’d come up with something.” It was teasing, venturing into something to see if he could make her blush again. Part of him doubted she was blushing over him and maybe just blushing because he was too much, but he was going to at least try.
Oh dear, he was going to keep with that, wasn’t he? Becka was beginning to think this was going to be the ‘what was she going to do with him’ conversation all over again, and then she grinned a little mischievously as an idea came to mind. “Hmm, how about ‘whatever you want’?” she decided, tossing his own answer back at him.
Adam made a noise close to a laugh and shook his head. “Alright, alright. We aren’t getting anywhere until we actually decide to do something.” He looked at his hands for a moment, then glanced up at her again. “What am I supposed to be doing? I feel like I’m in the way just standing here watching you.”
Becka found herself laughing lightly, nodding in agreement. “I know, what a pair we are, right? So you really don’t have any ideas either, then?” she asked. Sure, she might have a couple ideas, but she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to entertain them quite yet. “Oh! You could go ahead and grab one of those other brushes and start painting along the other side, or the top or bottom, wherever. That way when we get to the rollers, we don’t have to worry about splotching anything else with it,” she explained, moving back to dip her brush in the paint again.
“I have a few ideas, but I’m not sure I’m ready to admit to them,” Adam said, tone still slightly sarcastic, but more because that was his natural state. He hadn’t even intended to say it, and once the words were out there he looked away, internally cursing himself for being an idiot. Needing something to do he grabbed a paint brush, dipping it in the paint and starting along the floor if only to stay closer to her.
The admission surprised her, and Becka looked at him with lips parted, not sure what to say. Her stomach was doing those little flips, and her cheeks were flushing again as she wondered if maybe his ideas were along the same thoughts as hers, and before she knew it she was speaking again. “Me too,” she admitted, though she turned her attention back to the wall, hoping that he hadn’t caught the pink in her cheeks, which he might not have cause he was looking away too. She smiled to herself when he started painting along the base, because even though she really wasn’t sure what they were doing, she liked that he was close by her.
He could feel her looking at him and Adam forced himself to steady his breath, focusing on the painting instead. When he felt her look away he did glance her way thinking her cheeks looked pink again, but maybe not. “You’d think we’d talk about that then. Instead of talking around it,” he said, voice lower, not looking up at her again.
Becka’s cheeks flushed a little darker at that, and she kept painting for a minute while she tried to work out how to respond to that. As usual, honesty won out. “Well, I already told you that I liked you,” she pointed out, studiously focused on the wall as she painted it, brush moving up and down. “So I guess the way I see it is the ball’s in your court now.” She didn’t want to think that maybe he didn’t enjoy her company as much as she did his, but the thought was there in the back of her mind.
Adam was quiet for a moment, painting before sitting back on his heels. He was still looking at the wall, not her, but he wasn’t able to paint if they were just going to talk more near this than around it. “Ball’s in my court about what part?” Because she could get an answer in one regard or she could be waiting for forever.
When had the conversation start going in circles? Becka wondered as she pulled the brush away from the wall to turn and look at him fully. “About what happens next,” she answered. And then, because she really was not good at leaving things simple, she continued, “There’s nothing simple about this situation or this place, but...” Dominic’s words of advice echoed in her head, and she went along with that train of thought. “Who knows how long we’ll be here, so why not just live.”
Adam felt her looking at him and bit his lip again, thinking before tossing the brush back towards the tray. That was making it hard to breathe, hard to focus, and really hard to look at her. “You might end up waiting a while Becks,” he said, putting space between them. “I’m not really the making moves kind of guy,” he told her. And she looked like the girl he’d killed. A lot like her. Like if that girl had been able to live to Becka’s age she could look like Becka. Not perfectly but she’d have hair like that, maybe a similar smile.
He was moving away from her, and Becka felt a sinking disappointment in her stomach. Whatever he was saying - well, actions spoke louder than words, right? And he was putting space between them. “That’s all right,” she said, turning her attention back to the wall. Her voice was off, and she hated that. Making more of an effort to sound normal, she continued, “Besides, you can never have too many friends.” She didn’t need more than that; she would be happy to even just be his friend.
That had him looking back at her, frowning some. “Wow. Friends zone just like that. That has to break some kind of record.” It was slightly acidic, but he wasn’t upset with her, he was upset with himself. He wasn’t used to making moves, to having to. All of his experience was hinged on girls that had been fine with dragging him into the situation. He’d done plenty, but not because he started something.
Becka flinched slightly at the tone, feeling guilty at the words. “Adam,” she said softly, closing her eyes and taking a breath before turning to look back at him. “I don’t...” She was confused, his own words and actions not lining up to make any sense to her. She wasn’t used to guys who weren’t clear about whether or not they were interested, the few she’d dated having not been shy about asking her out. “You’re very confusing,” she finally admitted.
He sat on the edge of the table she was using for a work station, looking up at her finally. “I’ve heard that before,” he admitted. “I’m not...not good at that. And...the last girl she was...” He trailed off, rubbing his face for a moment before looking at her again. “I want to.”
Watching him, Becka chewed on her lower lip as he spoke. When he trailed off, though, she found herself extremely curious about what he was about to say. She was going to ask, but he was speaking again, and it took her a moment to realize what he’d said. “You do?” she asked, though she didn’t really need to hear it again. She moved to him, setting her brush down on the raised end of the paint pan before holding a hand out to him.
He looked her hand, feeling warmer than before, but he was sure his cheeks had only slightly pinked. “You’re asking that really?” he said looking at her before reaching out taking her hand, not entirely sure what to do with it once he had it.
Flushing deeper, Becka wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have asked. It wasn’t like she’d needed him to confirm. “Well, yeah. I mean, you say that, but then you still look at me like you aren’t sure about anything at all,” she admitted. When he took her hand, she tugged on his, urging him to stand up again.
“Because I’m not,” Adam pointed out. “That part should have been obvious.” He let her pull him up so he was standing, towering over her despite not being that tall. He had a million things to explain he was sure, but her blushing like that was distracting and Adam found himself smiling at her instead.
Becka knew that she was short, but as he stood, she felt even shorter than normal. Maybe it was because she was barefoot, or maybe it was the conversation, she didn’t know. “Nothing? Nothing at all?” she asked in a prompting tone. She turned her hand in his, lacing her fingers with his. “How about that? Is that okay?” She was testing boundaries, but most of all she wanted to have a better understanding of what he wanted.
Briefly Adam felt like he was fifteen, holding a girl’s hand like it was some sort of accomplishment. “We’ve done this,” he said softly, pulling her hand closer to him and running his thumb over hers. “Anything you want is fine Becks. Seriously.” Whatever she wanted from him, he was going to give her. He was having a hard time saying no to her, despite the fact that he probably should.
They had done this, just the night before, and Becka would not be forgetting that. “I know,” she said, voice coming out nearly as a whisper because the feel of his thumb moving over hers was sending tingles throughout her whole body. It was silly, she knew it was, but even such contact that would seem innocent to others felt intimate to her. “Anything?” she repeated, her expression turning speculative. “I wouldn’t want to do something that you really didn’t want to do though,” she admitted. “Like... What if I wanted to...” she trailed off, standing up on her toes so she could press a small kiss to his cheek, right next to the corner of his lips. “Would that be all right?” she finished, falling back to the flats of her feet.
Adam wasn’t sure what she might suggest, but the moment she was kissing his cheek he was leaning into her, nodding with it. “I said anything,” he reminded her. He did mean it. He wanted her to kiss him again even if he was sure he was pretty sure he couldn’t stop with just that. If this got started she wasn’t going to get her room painted. “I meant it.” There was something in the back of his mind, about how he had no idea why she’d pick him, but he wasn’t going to stop it if she was so determined. His self esteem might not be that high, but he wasn’t stupid.
There was no doubt that Adam was confusing, but Becka was determined to figure him out. She didn’t understand his earlier hesitance, the way he’d put space between them with his sudden willingness (or return to the willingness?) to go along with whatever she wanted. She didn’t want to question it, though. “I believe you,” she said when he told her he’d meant it. “I want to try something,” she admitted in a whisper, her stomach all twisted in knots as she pushed up onto her toes again, this time pressing a light, nearly chaste kiss to his lips.
He didn’t mean to be confusing, he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help the warring feelings with what he should be doing and what he shouldn’t. He went from feeling cornered, to not, to feeling there again. He was pretty sure he should have guessed what she was going to try, but then she was kissing him and he only barely hesitated before he answered it. While what she gave him was simple and gentle, what he gave her back was something far more eager, something needy, his free hand in her hair pulling her closer. He kept at it for a moment when his senses kicked in and he pulled away, letting go of her. “Sorry, I just...yeah.”
The response was so much more than she’d expected, and Becka gasped against it in surprise. But when he pulled her closer, she went, leaning into him. The warmth started at the kiss and spread slowly through her, dizzying her so that when he pulled away and broke contact with her, she wasn’t entirely steady. She brought one hand up, fingertips pressing against her lips as she looked at him with wide eyes. “What?” she said, looking at him blankly, not understanding why he was apologizing. “I’m not.”
He watched her, that hand on her mouth, those eyes, and he was aching to kiss her again. This was not what he needed to be doing, kissing her like he was, without thinking it through, but he couldn’t stop the flood of thoughts. “No?” he asked. He was reaching for her again without thinking about it, taking her hand and pulling it away from her mouth, studying her fingers, running his thumb up and down them.
Becka shook her head at the question. “No,” she repeated, smiling slowly when he took her hand again. Would it make things better or worse, she wondered, if she told him that she’d never been kissed quite like that before, with that intensity. “Why are you sorry?” she couldn’t help but ask, choosing not to go admitting things that might make him hesitant to kiss her again just yet.
“Because that’s my normal reaction to everything,” Adam said shaking his head. It wasn’t always, but he did apologize more than most people did. “You believe me yet?”
As she lifted her free hand, Becka stepped just a bit closer to him, thumb moving over his cheek as her fingers pushed up to brush against his short hair. “You shouldn’t be sorry for that,” she assured him with a smile. She tilted her head at the question, not sure what he was asking her. “Believe you about what?” she asked.
She needed to stop doing that. Not if she wanted him to have a real thought about how this was truly a bad idea. Still, Adam tilted his head into her hand, nodding slightly. “About doing anything.”
Becka giggled softly, then bit her lip, still smiling. “Oh, that,” she said, clearly having forgotten that that was what had got them to this point in the first place. “There’s nothing like seeing it in practice,” she answered, giggling again. She felt light and silly, though she was trying to convince herself that she didn’t want to kiss him again right then. She didn’t want to rush any of that, and she didn’t want him to pull away from her again.
Adam shrugged one shoulder, smirking a little, more in response to her smile than anything else. “I’m a sucker,” he admitted, reaching out to twist a loose bit of her hair around his fingers, thoughts back to kissing her again when he realized the door was still open. At least that helped him reign his thoughts in somewhat, if only enough to remember that he needed to close the door before lifting her up to kiss her again.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Becka disagreed. She really didn’t think he was a sucker for going along with this. Unless it wasn’t something he actually wanted. That thought didn’t sit well with her, and she felt a strong urge to make sure that he wasn’t just going along with her. “You’d only be a sucker if you didn’t really want this,” she pointed out, hoping that he would reassure her that that wasn’t the case.
He shook his head slowly, watching her for a long moment before speaking. “No, I’m a sucker because I probably shouldn’t be doing this, but you’re pretty and...well I’m not stupid. I can want this like I do and still be a sucker.”
Becka wanted to ask why he shouldn’t be doing this, but a little voice in the back of her mind pointed out that it would likely be along the same lines of why he said she shouldn’t like him to begin with, and that wasn’t a train of thought she wanted to go down at this moment. And so she latched onto something else he’d said, pouting and looking up at him through her lashes. “I’m not just pretty, I’m smart too,” she told him even though she knew that wasn’t what he’d meant.
That actually made him laugh a little, shoulders relaxing slightly with the release. “I never said you weren’t,” he pointed out. “You’re probably a hell of a lot smarter than I am.” Adam was sure he had no business being here, one hand in her hair, completely in her personal space, but he wasn’t sure how to leave either. The resolution to the dilemma wasn’t coming to him, and he wound up just staying where he was. “We were supposed to be painting, but I’m starting to think that was a waste of time.”
It made her feel so incredibly better about everything when he let out that little laugh and visibly relaxed a bit, and she didn’t stop smiling at his response. “I know you didn’t,” she admitted, not about to hide that it had been a ploy to try to get him to laugh. She just laughed, shaking her head at his next comment. If there was one thing she’d learned growing up with three brothers it was that you didn’t play the ‘who’s smarter’ game with guys. His next words were a reminder, and she looked at the wall almost blankly for a moment. “Oh yeah, we were,” she agreed. “No! Not a waste of time! I still want them painting, but it’s a-okay with me if it doesn’t get done right this minute.”
“You were just trying to get another compliment out of me huh?” Adam guessed, smiling as she stared at the wall. It gave him a moment to move, perching on the armrest of the loveseat. It made breathing easier, less caught up in the smell of her shampoo, which might have been the same as his, but it still smelled like something else entirely. “No need to rush I suppose. We do have nothing but time...”
“Maybe,” Becka answered, dragging the word out a bit. She was disappointed when he moved away again, but it didn’t feel as much like he was retreating, so she stomped down on the disappointment. By all appearances, they would have plenty of free time to explore whatever this was. She could be patient. “No, but if you’re going to be over there, you could at least turn on some music, and I’m going to get back to painting,” she said with a smile, reaching out to pick her paintbrush back up, dipping it into the paint before heading back to the section of wall she’d been working on.
“You are kind of a terrible liar aren’t you?” Adam teased with half a smirk, leaning behind him to wake up the computer, not sure entirely where the music was but assuming he could find it. Once it came to life though, there was definitely something she’d been working on left open on the screen. Her journal probably, and while Adam wasn’t really the nosey type, the large capital letters right there in the middle of it had him looking at it closer, spotting a few things. The virgin part--which was only partially surprising, she was as nice as they got--and his name, more than once. Her saying how she felt about him was one thing, but the last part, about what he did made Adam wish he hadn’t read it, not at all. He’d taken too long already he had to have, but he couldn’t keep reading one part over and over again. She was afraid of him. Which she probably should be. “I’m thinking..” he started, glancing over his shoulder to see if he could get away without her seeing.
“I am!” Becka confirmed with a little laugh, shaking her head at the teasing. It really wasn’t a secret, and even if it were, it wasn’t like she would be able to keep it anyway. She started painting the wall, though after what must have been a couple minutes without any music starting up, she glanced back over at Adam, a teasing comment about not being able to find the music on the tip of her tongue. It died there, never to be uttered as soon as she saw the screen. Her heart dropped to her stomach, and her eyes went wide. How could she have left that up? How could she have forgotten that it was up? When he glanced at her and started speaking, she waited, but then he didn’t continue. “Adam,” she began, taking a step toward him. She wanted to turn that page off, to rewind things to five minutes ago when they were kissing and laughing. “I can explain.” How, she wasn’t sure, but she would try. She just didn’t know what he was thinking. She should probably figure that out first.
He was going to tell her he was going to go. Make up some excuse, not feeling well, anything, to get out of there, away from her and then she was looking at him and it all fell flat. “What’s there to explain Becks?” he asked, hating the way his voice changed, the way it got harsh. “You’re scared. You should be. She looked like you.” Not the way he should have said that, but something in him hurt and he was lashing out like a child. “I should go.”
Becka hated the way he was looking at her, and she flinched at the harsh tone to his voice. But when he said she was scared, she squared her shoulders, protest on her lips. And then the rest of what he said sank in, and she hesitated. She looked like her? The last girl... He’d said that earlier. How was she supposed to process that? What was she supposed to think about that? “No!” she said finally, her one clear thought when he said he should go. “No,” she repeated, softly this time. “I’m not scared of you. Please don’t go.” She moved closer to him, reaching out to him even if she was a little scared of how he might respond now. “Please.”
Adam had already been on his feet, willing himself to leave, to get away from her, from whatever damage he was sure he could muster if given enough time. “You are scared of me,” he corrected, but he didn’t leave. Her moving got her close to blocking his way out anyway and her saying no stopped him in his tracks. It shouldn’t be that way, but he couldn’t help it. He needed to leave, but he didn’t want to. The only silent victory was not reaching for her back, but he didn’t shut down, didn’t stop her. He wanted her to touch him even if it was the worst of ideas. He’d killed the last girl he’d made out with, the last girl he’d been with. The memories might not be there, but Adam was fine with taking the blame for what happened to that girl and he couldn’t bear the idea of something just as awful happening to Becka. What if he’d just snapped, lost it in some sort of haze and killed her too? “There isn’t anything else to be afraid of besides me.”
“No, I’m not,” Becka said firmly. “And would you stop trying to tell me how I feel?” She set the paint brush down again, shaking her head at his next words. There was so much more to be afraid of, things that she’d touched on when she’d talked to Dominic, but now she realized that she needed to just come out with it with him, put it all out there so he would know that she wasn’t scared of him. “Yes, there is,” she disagreed, closing the rest of the distance between them, though she didn’t touch him again yet.
“It makes me nervous to have these feelings for you when I don’t know the circumstances around everything, but that does not mean I’m scared of you. Most of all, I’m scared that this won’t be real, that it’ll just be a product of the environment because there’s nothing better to do. I’m scared of the fact that I don’t have work or family obligations to fall back on as excuses if things get too serious because I don’t know how to be in a relationship.” A memory, one that hadn’t faded even over the six years since she’d lived it, came to the front of her mind, but she pushed it away. She didn’t want to think about Robbie or the rumors or the bet or any of that. She pressed her hands against his chest, then, lifting up to kiss him lightly, briefly. “If I was scared of you, I wouldn’t do that, I wouldn’t want to be with you,” she whispered, arms moving around him to hug him.
“Then you should be afraid of me,” Adam insisted, but it felt like it fell short because he didn’t have the determination to back it up. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him, even if he was sure she should be. Especially not if she was moving closer like she was, sucking away at what little resolve Adam had left. “None of that makes it less real,” he heard himself counter, not at all sure why he would do such a thing. “And you can’t be any worse at this than I am.” There was no real ‘experience’ when there was nothing to build on. It didn’t help that Adam was pretty sure he sucked at having just friends, let alone something more.
Mentally he was gearing up to fight things, torn between wanting to prove to her that what she was saying was pointless, that she was scared of all the wrong things and wanting her to keep believing whatever she needed to believe to give them space. He was ready for it, something on the tip of his tongue to answer, but then she was kissing him again and Adam caught himself following after her when the kiss ended, as if he might be able to make it last longer. When she hugged him he was very aware of how close she was, left with nothing to do with his hands for a long moment before one wound up in her hair, holding her closer to him. “You know full well those things aren’t mutually exclusive,” he pointed out, voice taking on the same hushed tone as hers.
Becka didn’t believe for one minute that she should be afraid of him. She’d seen enough of the guilt and anguish he obviously felt over what he was convicted for for her to believe that there was a whole lot more to it than the crime itself implied. “I want it to be real,” she admitted in a small voice. And she heard Dominic’s words again, that just because they were here didn’t mean they couldn’t have something real. She smiled softly at Adam’s next words. “Well then, I guess we’ll just have to figure it out as we go along,” she said decisively, because she wasn’t going to let him push her away on this, not now that she knew that he was definitely interested as well. Smiling when he held her against him, Becka tucked her head under his chin and just closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying being so close to him. “No, I don’t,” she disagreed, biting back an amused grin.
Somehow, just like that, he’d found himself in the exact situation he was probably supposed to be avoiding. If this was some sort of test, a challenge not to get involved with the girl who reminded him of a dead girl, Adam was obviously failing. Still, he couldn’t let go of her, not when it felt good to be so wanted, to be close to someone who wasn’t trying to beat the crap out of him, abuse him, or just lie to him. “You do. It’s the storyline for every chick flick ever written: pretty girl turns the bad boy she shouldn’t like good.”
Keeping her arms around him, Becka pulled her head back to look at him with a bemused expression. “The good girl in those movies can only turn the bad boy good because he’s already got a lot of good in him, it’s just hiding behind bad choices,” she pointed out. She didn’t think admitting that she didn’t think he was a bad boy would get her anywhere, as he clearly saw himself as such.
Adam was fairly certain his life was never going to be a movie, or anything close to it. “I’m not sure what’s left that’s good,” he started, watching her eyes.
Becka’s forehead creased at that. “You really don’t think you have any good in you at all?” she asked softly, clearly not believing that that was possible. She could see good in him, even if specific examples weren’t coming to mind right at that moment.
Taking a deep breath, Adam moved away enough to sit on the armrest of the loveseat again. He was still close to her, one hand finding its way to hers and holding it. “I’m not sure. I’m not sure what’s inside me.” There was one moment he supposed, one he definitely wouldn’t talk about for fear of what might happen, but that was all he had to hold on to that felt good. The rest had been filled with nightmares and worry. Fear that he’d turned into something even he was afraid of.
Becka frowned when he moved away, though it softened a bit when he took her hand. “Well, I think there’s plenty of good in you,” she said softly, squeezing his hand. There was something there, something he wasn’t saying, and Becka had a feeling it had everything to do with what had landed him in prison in the first place. He’d said he would tell her eventually, though, so she was going to hold onto that. She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before venturing a small smile at him. “Can we paint that wall, now?” she asked, thinking they both probably could use a break from the heaviness that had settled around them since he’d read her private entry.
He wondered if she actually saw something or she just believed it because she didn’t know better and if it would change to the latter if she found out everything. An urge to protect her surged up some, but he was certain that not telling her the full story might be putting her in danger as well. At the change in topic and direction Adam found himself nodding, fine with that, needing something else to do. “Sure.”
Even though he’d agreed to the change in topic, Becka noticed that he didn’t move, and so she closed the space between them again, the fingers of her free hand lifting to brush over his cheek. There was a lot more that she could, that she wanted to say, but she didn’t just then. Instead, she leaned in to kiss him, thinking that she wasn’t going to be able to resist doing that whenever the urge struck now that they had done so already. She broke away with a smile, turning to go back to the paint, which needed stirred now, she noticed.
The kiss was so simple, so easy and Adam found himself returning it, one hand on her lower back to hold her against him until she pulled away. He wasn’t sure what to make of the casualness of it, of what it meant, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to stop doing it just because he didn’t understand it.
Becka stirred the paint in the pan before dipping her brush back in it and moving back to the wall. Biting her lip, she glanced back at Adam. “You could turn music on now, if you want,” she said. What could it hurt, now? He’d already seen the entry, she just hoped that it wouldn’t put him back in the mindset that she was scared of him; because she wasn’t. She went back to painting, finishing along that side as far up as she could reach before grabbing the little step ladder to set it up so she could paint along the ceiling.
Adam glanced towards the computer then shook it away. He really didn’t want to deal with that this instant, read through the journal entry again because he was pretty sure he would. Instead he got up and started towards her, grabbing his own abandoned brush and frowning. “You want me to do the tall parts?’
Becka gave a mental shrug when he went toward her rather than turning on music. She couldn’t say she blamed him for wanting to go there again, but she did hope that he wouldn’t hold it against her. She smiled at the offer, stepping away from the ladder. “Sure,” she answered, leaving that for him and going to the other side of the wall to get that before starting with the roll brush.
He took her place with the step ladder, running his brush along the pane at the ceiling, hoping he didn’t mess this up for her. While she worked on one end of things and he the other it slipped into a sort of silence between them, but Adam wasn’t terribly worried about it. It didn’t feel awkward on his end, or not until he’d moved across the room to where she was again. Then he was sure he was suppose to say something or at least fill the space between them, but he was out of ideas since everything kept taking him back to what they’d talked about before. “Are you gonna do the whole room blue?” he ventured missing the tray with paint with the brush and winding up with paint on his arm.
The silence was a little on the awkward side for Becka, who enjoyed noise and activity, but she was trying not to let it bother her. She smiled up at him when he reached her side of the wall, glancing around at the question. “Oh, yeah I am. I just couldn’t prep all the walls without moving all the furniture out of the room, and I wasn’t going to do that,” she pointed out with a little laugh. “The smell’s going to be pretty bad though, I might have to sleep with the door open just to let it air out!” She shook her head, wrinkling her nose at the thought, still laughing a bit.
Adam was going along with the logic until she said the part about the door being open and he made a face. “You’re sure about that?” he ventured not sure what he could offer otherwise, but that oddly enough didn’t seem safe.
Becka glanced at Adam at the question, not sure what to make of the tone of it. “Have you ever tried sleeping in a room that was just painted?” she asked, wrinkling her nose. “I’ll see if the windows open, but yeah, I don’t really see me getting much sleep with the smell,” she admitted.
He made another face, then shook his head. “Sounds like you should be sleeping somewhere else.” The moment the words left his mouth, he rolled his eyes at himself. That sounded like the worst pick-up line ever and it wasn’t even meant to be.
Becka fought every instinct to look at him because she knew her eyes were a little wide and her cheeks a little flushed. He hadn’t meant that the way it sounded, he couldn’t have. “Like where? Not like there are lots of choices. There’s the couch in the activity room, but seeing as how that’s a common area, that would be kind of rude,” she said, rambling a little bit, though that couldn’t really be helped.
There was an easy, obvious answer to that question and saying it just sounded stupid, but not saying it was completely wussing out on something he’d already half committed to. “You can sleep in my room. I slept last night so I probably won’t tonight.” There was no getting out of this unscathed.
Oh, there was no doubt that her cheeks were as red as the tank top she was wearing, and Becka studiously did not look away from the section of wall she was painting. She really hadn’t considered sleeping anywhere else, and she didn’t know what it would mean if she did. Other than camping trips with her brothers, she’d never slept in the same room with a guy, and that was a whole other set of nerves she didn’t know how to navigate. She stayed quiet for a minute, and when she finally felt the heat in her cheeks go down, she looked over at him, focusing on the second part of what he’d said. “You probably won’t sleep tonight? That’s not good,” she commented softly. She went back to dip her brush in paint again, then dropped to her knees to finish where he’d started along the baseboard.
“Uh, no,” Adam said with a shrug. “Probably for the best if you needed somewhere to crash. If I did let you stay you wouldn’t want me to sleep either.” Not with the nightmares that left him screaming. She would love waking up to that and adding another thing to the list of things to be nervous about.
She still wasn’t sure what she thought of the idea, but Becka would think about it because she really didn’t think she would sleep well in this room with the paint fumes. “Why?” she asked automatically. She couldn’t even begin to fathom why she wouldn’t want him to sleep. Sleep was good, it was important.
Because I woke Mazie up screaming last night. Adam wasn’t ready to give over that answer right away though. “I’m not very good at it.”
Becka’s brows furrowed at that answer. How could someone not be good at sleeping? “I...” What was she supposed to say to that. “You wouldn’t just stay up all night staring at me sleep, would you?” And where the heck had that question come from? She wasn’t really concerned about that, but it had just come out.
Adam almost laughed and shook his head. “No, but good to know you’re still lumping me in with creepy people,” he said shaking his head at her. “I’ll probably find something to do to entertain myself.”
Becka flushed lightly and bit her lip, shaking her head at him. “I don’t think you’re creepy, I just... I’ve never slept in the same room as a guy who wasn’t family,” she explained. He already knew that she was a virgin now, though she realized that he hadn’t commented on that at all, focusing on what she’d written about him instead. She supposed that made sense, but she found herself hoping that it didn’t make it weird for him that she was one. “Like what?” she asked, genuinely curious about what someone might do for entertainment in the middle of the night.
“Never?” Adam asked. “Not even in the pass out at the end of a party sort of way?” he asked. He’d just shared his bed with Mazie and that wasn’t including the interesting people he’d found himself tangled up with after parties. “I read sometimes. Last time I walked around a little, mess with that computer.”
If they kept talking about these things, it was likely going to turn her cheeks a permanent shade of red. Becka was never really surprised to find out that she'd lived a very different life than a lot of people her age, but she wasn't ashamed of it. Sometimes it just felt a little awkward to think that she might be judged for it. " I've never been at that kind of party long enough to pass out," she admitted, not sure admitting that she'd never drank anything other than champagne at her brother's wedding last year would help with the whole feeling awkward thing either. And why would someone passed out at a party unless they were drunk? Whenever she'd gone to those kinds of parties she'd always stuck with soda or water. “Reading can be nice,” she commented with a small smile. There wasn’t a whole lot to do on the computer, though. Not without the internet.
“No?” Adam said giving her a little look. Not everyone partied like he had, but he was surprised she hadn’t done anything of the sort. “I used to live a place that partied like that. The place you went to one of those parties,” Adam said with a shrug. “Reading’s alright. I keep picking things that don’t really interest me, but I guess these days I’m not sure what I’m interested in.”
“No,” Becka confirmed. She should probably look at him, maybe even explain more, but she didn’t want to see how he might be looking at her. She knew that she was the odd one in the prison setting, that she hadn’t had the troubled or partying lives that a lot of people in prison had. “Really? Wow. My parents would’ve killed me if I’d gone to a place like that. If my brothers hadn’t got to me first,” she said with a wry grin. “Growing up the only girl with three brothers - I didn’t really have a lot of freedom,” she admitted with a small shrug. She didn’t feel like she’d missed out, really. “Aww, well what kinds of things have you been picking?” She didn’t think her reading preferences would interest him, but she might have some ideas.
“Really. Grams was not happy, but it worked out when all I did was wait tables and I had an almost free place to stay.” Of course the lifestyle had lead to the worst of things, but for the first while it had been fun. “Three brothers though, wow. It was always just me.” He stopped painting for a moment, watching her. They really came from different places. She was going to be beyond surprised when things shifted forward he guessed. “I read one about a whale. Which was stupid. I grabbed it because it was thick.”
“Ah,” she said softly, understanding theoretically how that might work out. She filed away the fact that he’d mentioned his grandma, not any parents, curious about that but thinking that now wasn’t the time to ask about that. Another time. “Aww, really? I can’t imagine having grown up without them. It was insane at the best of times, but I loved it. We were all really close.” Becka paused in the painted, feeling an overwhelming ache in her chest at missing them all. She wanted to see them, or even just hear their voices. She closed her eyes against it, then blew out a breath, focusing back on the painting. There was no use dwelling on the things she couldn’t change. “A whale?” she repeated, biting back a laugh. “I’d say try reading something that’s along the same lines of what you like watching. Like, if you like watching horror movies or sci-fi type, then maybe something like Stephen King would be good,” she suggested. She didn’t really know a wide variety of books that guys might like, but she could try to help.
“And I can’t imagine having brothers. Or well I’ve seen it, my... Jeff had brothers. They were all, I guess close is the right word.” He stumbled over calling Jeffrey his friend, since what kind of friend had he been lately? Adam glanced at her in time to see her close her eyes and heard her let out that breath. “It’s okay to miss them,” he told her, feeling like he was the wise one in this situation which was rare for him. This though, this he knew. “I heard that a lot. It’s okay to miss them. ‘Course the person telling you it’s okay to miss them, doesn’t seem to know what it feels like, but after this many years I figure it’s okay, so at least you’re hearing it from someone with experience.”
Becka looked over at him, tilting her head slightly. She wanted to ask who Jeff was, but she figured they had time to learn all those things about each other, that they didn’t need to rush and try to learn everything all in one day. She loved talking about her family, but with not having seen or spoken with them in three days and not having any idea when she might get to again made it difficult to think and talk about them. She looked back up at Adam’s words, pressing her lips together against the wave of emotions that didn’t seem to want to pass entirely. “I... I do miss them, more than I can say,” she said softly. Since she was so close to finishing painting along the base, she forced herself to finish that before letting that strong desire for contact and affection win out. “Finished up there yet?” she asked, setting the brush aside.
Adam gave her a small smile, though it was a little weaker than before. “I get that. And you’re doing better than I was. No one’s tried to have you tested and you’re making new friends.” Which was miles ahead of where Adam had been. He finished up the last part of the ceiling and the part of the wall she couldn’t reach then jumped down from the ladder, nodding after taking a step back. “Yup. You’ve got...part of wall painted.”
Looking at him for a moment, Becka wondered what they’d had him tested for, and she found that this time she couldn’t keep from asking. “Tested for what? And you’re not doing so bad here, right?” The impression she’d got was that he was already getting along with people here, too. She watched as he jumped down from the ladder, grinning when he said he’d finished that part. “Good,” she said softly, crossing to him. It was silly, she knew it was, but she needed a hug, and so she gave him one, resting her head against his chest, just closing her eyes and being for a minute.
Adam shrugged one shoulder. “Whatever you’d tested a ten year old with no friends for. They were worried I was crazy or something. Turns out I was just...cut off. Reserved or whatever.” He’d just set down the paint brush when she hugged him, looking at the top of her head confused for a long moment before wrapping an arm around her. “You’re gonna be okay Becks.” He wasn’t sure how or why but he guessed she’d get out of this better than the rest of them.
Becka’s expression turned sad for a moment at his answer, but then she smiled softly at him. “I’d have been your friend, even if you were the quiet boy who sat in the back and didn’t really talk to anyone,” she said honestly. Because that was just the kind of person she was; she’d always hated seeing the other kids sitting alone and had always wanted to include them in things even when the other kids just blew it off like no big deal. “I hope so,” she whispered against his chest. She couldn’t know for sure, after all, who knew what tomorrow would bring? She just breathed him in for another moment before moving away to get the rolling brushes, handing one to Adam. “Let’s get the rest of this wall painted!” she said with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Probably not,” he said softly, shaking his head. Even after eighteen years he hadn’t managed to amass much in the way of friends. There were people like her, but he never really got engaged, or made relationships that stuck. “I know so. I’ll see to it that it happens.” He let her go when she did, frowning slightly. He knew what she was doing, trying to cover up the sadness. “We can take a break if you want.”
“Would so,” she said stubbornly, jaw tilted up a bit. “Decided to be your friend here, didn’t I?” she pointed out with a smile that made it clear she thought she’d won. Of course, that wasn’t all she’d decided, but she wasn’t sure what to call what things had progressed to today. There was a fluttering in her chest at his words, at knowing that there was someone here that cared enough about her - not just liked her because she was nice or anything like that, but actually cared enough to want to look out for her like that. She looked away at the suggestion, shaking her head, and when she looked back at him, her eyes were shining a bit. “No, I need to keep busy right now, otherwise... Sometimes it just gets overwhelming,” she admitted.
Adam shook his head at that smile. He didn’t think she was right, but it was obvious she wasn’t going to let him believe what he knew to be true. That change in her eyes, the sadness showing through had him nodding. “Whatever helps. I get it, I really do.”
It sounded like he meant it, like he really did understand that just then she couldn’t just take a break and let the sadness overwhelm her, and so she smiled gratefully. “Thanks. So yeah, let’s just get the painting done.” It would probably take a little while, because they would have to move the furniture around some and be careful not to smudge any of the already painted areas, but she thought they would be able to manage. She rolled her brush in the paint, then, and turned back to the wall.
Enough therapy sessions had Adam wondering if she might just crack under the sadness she was holding back, but he didn’t push. He wasn’t the shrink here, just a kid who’d lost his family too. “At your service,” he said reaching for his own roller brush and starting on his end of things.