Rebecca opened her eyes. She was standing on the front step just outside of the house. The fingers on her left hand flexed, and she looked down at them with a frown. After a moment, she smiled. What a great day. She turned around and stepped across the edge of the doorway, shutting and re-locking the door behind herself.
She took a deep breath, observing the sensations that she was feeling.
Her surroundings flickered, and she caught a glimpse of a room with gray walls before she felt cool sand pressing on her from all sides, and a sensation of rapid movement startled her deeply. It lasted for only a few seconds before she felt a sudden, dry heat pressing down on her as the pressure of the sand fell away. A bright, refreshing light shone down upon her.
She coughed a few times as she caught her breath, regaining her feet in the process. What just happened? She dusted herself off, feeling the grating indignity of the task, but she spotted a pair of bare feet nearby and brought her head up to see whether the person might be useful.
Upon recognizing him, Rebecca came to a complete halt.
Somehow, in one way or another, she had been brought from the house of Carl Theodore Weathers to his side. And, as she further took in the sense of her surroundings, she realized she was now on a different world, though the reality of that knowledge was unsettling to an extreme degree in contrast to her expectations of what it should mean. She recoiled completely in the shock of everything, needing to gather more information before something else could go wrong.
Becca blinked at Carl, a sudden sense of disorientation washing over her like the waves she'd been thinking of moments earlier. "Carl?" she said, the only word that came to mind. What the fuck… Where am I? She looked around, trying to recall what had just happened. I was sitting in the den, and then I went to answer the door… Her memories reached a gap, and she brought a hand up to her forehead. She could remember walking over to the door, but she couldn't remember what had happened between then and now.
Carl, looking as she remembered when he'd been in his early thirties, stared back at her with a look of… Is he surprised or suspicious? I can't… Fuck, my head's pounding all of the sudden. She rubbed at her forehead with her palm.
"Uh, Rebecca?" he said.
"It's Becca," she corrected him out of habit like always, the use of her full name annoying her and making her feel like she was still a little girl.
"Right," Carl said like he usually did, being the only person whose use of the name didn't upset her for reasons that she strove to keep her mind away from. "So, uh, I didn't know you played?"
She stared, the non sequitur making her forget about the throbbing headache she'd been suffering from. Played…what? Like, some kind of game?
Becca had always enjoyed games, though she'd never gotten deep enough into playing anything to even reach the point where she'd consider herself skilled. She enjoyed the sense of newness she felt when she started one, but she tended to grow bored as soon as it faded, which was why she'd seldom enjoyed finishing anything she'd played, whether it be board games, card games, or the occasional video game.
The lone exception to this rule was New Era and related VR sims, which she'd gotten into over the past couple years as dating had shifted into the virtual world, making it easier and safer to do anything she wanted on the first couple dates without needing to worry about her personal or professional lives suffering from weirdos. In that sense, however, she wasn't really playing the game for the purpose of playing the game; the game's existence served a purpose for her, but she'd never had any particular interest in it beyond that. It was, in fact, how she'd met Nick a few years earlier.
"Never figured you as the type to be playing New Era," Carl continued after a moment. "Guess we really do have broad appeal," he muttered, his expression changing to the same, poorly concealed, slight grimace that he wore any time they were alone now.
The same expression that made her want to cry every time she saw it, which in turn made her angry at herself for how stupid she was being and how fucked everything was.
She shoved her thoughts away from all of that yet again. "We're in New Era?" she asked, shielding her eyes as she took in her surroundings. Two suns, just like the game. Did I really decide to go in during the day? While I was at their house?
"Yes?" Carl said in a tone of voice like she was asking an obvious question.
"Oh," Becca said. How… "Where are we?" Wasn't I downstairs? My New Era brain link is up in my room though, and it's not like I'd ever log in if I wasn't…
Stolen novel; please report.
"Not really sure," he replied, moving his squint off to the horizon. A dark rectangle hovered in front of him and a little ways to the side, looking just like the game's contact list.
Log out. Too weird. Please be dreaming. This has to be a really weird dream. Wouldn't even be the weirdest one I've had of him.
"Log out," she murmured when the first command had no effect.
Still, however, nothing happened.
A sense of panic began to mount. She'd heard the stories of people who had gotten trapped in VR, though none had ever been confirmed or proven to be anything more than fear-mongering, but it was seeming like that exact scenario was happening to her now, and, while she'd done her best to become strong like her sister, she still wasn't strong enough that she could remain calm in this kind of situation like she imagined Marianne would. At least I'm here with Carl. He's at work now, so if anyone knows how to fix this, it'll be…
She frowned, shifting from one foot to the other as she suddenly became aware that the bottoms of her socks were scorching hot from the heat of the sand underfoot. She began hopping from one foot to the other as she moved towards a patch of shade next to a giant rock. "Okay, well, can we go somewhere else?" she asked. "This sand is way too hot."
She leaned against the rock, feeling that it was at least a little cooler in her new spot. Wait, but I'm still stuck here, and I can't log out. She looked back to Carl and gave him a pleading look. Then again…
Her eyes swept over him, and suddenly she was seventeen again, and she was a total fucking mess of hormones, and she wanted him, except she didn't, and she was in total control, and she wasn't seventeen, and it had only been for an instant, but she'd totally fucking lost her mind. What the fuck. What the fuck was that?
Becca opened her mouth, intent on telling him that she couldn't log out, but instead her mouth remained closed, and she pouted, imagining that telling him something like that would ruin her plans now that they were alone together in a place where nobody would ever find out if something happened between them.
Carl's expression had shifted several times while she wrestled with herself, and he seemed to be thinking about something, unaware of her struggles.
Nope. Fucking stop, you idiot. I'm past this now. I have to be. I'm a fucking adult. Don't make things worse.
"Alright, I'll warp you somewhere," Carl said with a resigned expression on his face. "But don't tell anybody about this, and don't—"
"Nooo, I wanna go with you," she said in the flirty voice that she'd used to persuade past boyfriends that her way was the right way. What is wrong with me?
"Uh, yeah," Carl said, his grimace becoming less concealed and twisting her heart even after so many years and despite the fact that she now knew she didn't even want him, just some weird idea of him. "Sorry—I mean, no offense, but, uh… Probably you'd have a, uh… You know, you'd have more fun going around on your own, I'm sure," he said in a clear attempt to get rid of her.
Becca got the hint. She'd always been great at getting hints, those subtle social cues that revealed a person's true intent. It had always served her well in her professional life, and it was at least part of why she'd risen so quickly in the B2B division. In this particular case, she agreed with the idea: she absolutely should go somewhere else, somewhere far away from whatever was going on here, ideally somewhere that involved going back to the real world with her adorable nieces.
But then, as she thought about what she'd do when she got back, she came across another idea, which was that maybe staying here would also be great? She didn't know why that would—No, she remembered, if she stayed here, then maybe she could try and patch things up between them, or at least reach a point where he stopped grimacing every time he saw her? Wouldn't that be worth staying for?
It… Maybe it would… She wavered as she thought about it, though she didn't know exactly how she could manage it without fucking things up even more, but leave everything to her because she had a plan.
"Please?" her mouth opened to say while she continued to think about it. "I know we don't really get along, but as long as I'm here, wouldn't it be nice if we could get along? Sort of like a team-building exercise?" Team-building exercise? What does that even—
A sudden image of Carl, kneeling before her, sliding her pants down, grasping her knee with his broad hands, moving them upwards as he said her name smashed into her thoughts, and Becca lost herself in the familiar, hated daydream that she loved.
Rebecca walked towards Carl as he deliberated, feeling more aware than she had. "We've been doing whatever this is for too long," she said, pointing a finger back and forth between them once she'd stopped just out of reach. "We're family, aren't we? Wouldn't it be great if we could get along? Wouldn't Bobby and Sammy like it if we could all get together more than once every year or two?"
Carl's hand rose to his face, and he began rubbing his beard at a remarkable speed, his hand moving so quickly across his cheek that it appeared as a blur, the feat well within her expectations.
"Annie and I have been working to fix things too," she said, knowing now that this was the key to her revised, better plan. "It's not going to happen right away, but we're making some progress."
"Hm." Carl shrugged. "Alright, we can try it, but I'm kinda in the middle of something. So may—"
"That's not a problem, I'll just tag along," Rebecca interrupted. "I mean, unless…" She raised an eyebrow. "Is it something I'm not supposed to know about? Something you wouldn't want Annie to know?"
"What? No, no, obviously not," Carl said, waving dismissively. "She already knows everything. I'm just gonna meet up with a friend I gotta talk to about something, then I'm gonna play a little prank on Bobby before I head back home."
Rebecca smiled. This will be too easy.