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Chapter Twenty-Six: You Will Taste My Blade


When I got into Fresh Oasis, Ricky was behind the counter and Thomas was wiping down a table in the corner of the room. There was a line three or four people deep. Ricky looked up at the jingling of the bell and called Thomas over and I stood awkwardly, looking around, not seeing Becky. Ricky wiped his hands with a towel and came striding over as soon as Thomas got to the counter. He came to a stop a couple feet in front of me. He was wearing skinny jeans and a hot pink t-shirt under a black apron. He stared at me for a long moment. "She isn't here," he said darkly. "She called out."

"She called out?"

"Yeah." Ricky nodded. His eyes narrowed. "How could you do that to her?" he demanded.

My throat ached. "She knows?"

"You're all over the god damn TV, of course she knows," he snapped. "She isn't stupid."

"I was going to tell her," I said thickly, "Last night, but I --"

"You were too busy breaking her to pieces," Ricky said, shaking his head. "Did you think about her for even a moment? About what this would do to her?" He brought his hands up and shoved me squarely in the chest. I hit the wall beside the door. I wasn't about to fight back. Ricky glowered at me. "You're a selfish bastard. They should've left you in jail." He turned away.

"I really do love her," I said. "I made a mistake."

Ricky turned around and came back in a couple quick strides. "If you loved her you wouldn't have done this to her." Ricky walked away.

I slipped back out of the Oasis, back to the sidewalk. Jason was already gone. I'd just assumed Becky would be there and I'd be able to get a ride back with her. I'd pictured me telling her and her forgiving me and everything being okay.

I knew I still needed to talk to her. So I walked down the street and called for a cab and got a ride to Becky's house.

I waved off the driver when I got out of the car and I walked across the yard, muttering to myself, trying to think of what words to say. I climbed the steps with heavy feet and reached up to knock on the door but before my fist could come into contact with the wood, the door swung open and Bruce stood there in the doorway, hovering. He stared down at me, his eyes narrowed, his jaw set, nose flared with emotion. I took a deep breath.

"You've got a hell of a lot of balls to be showing up here," Bruce growled.

I lowered my gaze, not quite daring to look him in the eyes. "I need to talk to Becky," I choked.

Bruce shook his head, "Hell will freeze over first," he snapped.

"Please," I begged, "I can explain..."

Becky suddenly appeared at Bruce's side. She pushed around him, stepping out onto the porch. I took a couple steps back as she advanced at me, her eyes red-hot with anger. "How dare you," she screamed into my face.

"Becky, I can explai--"

"No! You don't get to explain! There is no explanation for this. You lied to me! You lied about everything! I trusted you, I told you everything about me, I told you everything that hurts me and haunts me, and you told me a bunch of made up shit that isn't even real. I had sex with you! I gave you everything that I had, everything! I fell in love with you, and I was dreaming about spending every day of the rest of my god-damned pathetic waste of a life with you and you -- you! This whole time you've been just using me. This whole time! Probably laughing at me in your fancy-ass mansion over there in Beverly Hills, probably telling all your rich, beautiful Backstreet Boy buddies about the stupid, no-life bitch you'd been duping for the last month."

"I haven't Becky! It's not like that. Please, let me explain. See, it all started with this bet I had with Chris --"

"What was the bet? Huh? To find the ugliest, stupidest person you possibly could that would fall in love with you?" she cried.

"Becky, you aren't ugly or stu--"

"YOU HAVE SHATTERED ME!" she bellowed. Bruce was holding onto the door, looking down at his shoes, his knuckles white in the grip. Becky's voice trembled as she shouted, "DO YOU HEAR ME? YOU HAVE SHATTERED ME!"

The words seemed to reach right into my very core, and a burning shame and rage at myself burned all over me like fire. "Becky, I'm sorry," I choked the words, because I couldn't even get the oxygen through my lungs to say it in a normal voice.

"You are not forgiven," she hissed.

I dropped to my knees. The floorboards stung against them as I looked up at her. "Please," I begged, "Please Becky, please understand I made a mistake. Please. I love you... Please."

Becky stared down at me and her eyes softened, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Before I met you," she said thickly, "I thought no one could possibly love me. I thought I was worthless and that I was gonna die alone, having done nothing and never been loved." Her lower lip trembled. "Then you came along into my life, like a burst of light out of no where. You were the first person that wasn't morally obligated by blood and biology to love me. You were the first person that really saw me. You made me feel special. Every time you touched me I felt like I was worth something to someone. Every time you said my name I felt like maybe it wasn't so horrible to be me after all. Like maybe I could be loved. And the other night when you made love to me, I thought maybe, just maybe - by some unbelievable miracle of God - that maybe you did love me." She shook her head, "I was so naive. Now I know you lied to me about everything. Your touches and your words and your eyes, they were all lies. All the feelings I had were lies."

"No Becky," I whispered, "Not all of it was lies. Not all of it. I do love you."

"I don't believe you," she choked the words out. "I don't believe you because everything you've ever said to me is a lie. I don't want to hear anymore lies.."

"Becky..."

"Leave."

"Please!" I cried, my throat bursting as I looked up at her. I crawled forward and hugged her knees. Inside, Scooby Doo was barking. "Becky," I wailed. I felt like my entire world was imploding, blowing up all around me. I'd finally found someone worth living for and I'd been too fucking stupid to see it. Becky had been right that first day, when she said that I hadn't seen her. I hadn't seen her until it was too late to undo what I'd done. Until it was too late and I'd broken her heart.

"You don't get to be sad, Nate," Becky said thickly. "Or Nick. Or whatever your name is." She shook me off her, and turned and walked away. As she went, I felt like all the colors were going with her, like everything was draining away.

"Don't go," I sobbed. "Please. Becky. Please. I love you. I love you."

She went inside and Bruce closed the door behind them, leaving me kneeling there on the edge of their porch. I covered my eyes with my hands, sobbing into my palms, gasping for oxygen like a man who'd been trapped underwater.

Suddenly the door opened, and I looked up, expecting Becky.

Instead, it was Bradley.

And he was holding a lifesize replica Star Wars light saber. He stood there in the doorway, holding the light saber in front of his face for a moment, one hand clutching Scooby Doo's collar, staring ahead at me. And then, he let out war cry and released Scooby Doo.

"You-you will taste my bl-blade!" he yelled.

I scrambled to my feet as Bradley and Scooby launched forward. I ran down the walk away. Bradley was waving the light saber in front of him, making whirring noises as he ran after me. They apparently had an electric fence, because Scooby stopped right at the edge of the lawn as I ran out into the quiet suburban street. Bradley ran after me with his light saber. I jogged a little ways down the road before I stopped, clutching my knees, gasping for air. Bradley came up behind me. "Y-you hurt m-my Becky!" he yelled, "Why-why di-did you hurt my B-Becky?"

"I didn't mean to Bradley," I choked.

He swung the light saber, hitting me right in the side with it. Of course it didn't slice through me like they did in the movies, but it was hard enough that I was sure to have a bruise there later. Bradley glowered at me, his eyes glistening with tears. "You - You were my - my friend," he said thickly, "And you - you hurt m-my Becky."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"BRADLEY!" Bruce was standing at the end of the driveway of the house, staring down the street at us. Scooby Doo was running frantically, right along the boundary line of his yard, his head craned, trying to see us, barking loudly. "Come home this instant," Bruce shouted. "Let the tash take itself out."

Bradley lowered his light saber. He stared at me for a long moment. Then he turned and started walking back, dragging the Jedi sword behind him.

I stood there and watched that he got back safely. Watched as Bruce pulled him along inside, called for Scooby Doo, and climbed the porch. Bruce paused at the door and looked back at me, and even from that distance I could see that he was looking back at me with a mixture of regret and sadness.