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Woken In Winter
Chapter 5: Bekka

Chapter 5: Bekka

Philadelphia, Earth

The convenience store was run down, but the bell tinkled loudly as Elisabeth pulled her through the door. There were metal bars inside the windows, supporting the dusty glass. Faded advertisements were taped to the walls.

They were the only customers.

Bekka had never been in this store before, although she passed it everyday. As the door opened, dust bunnies skittered out from beneath the shelving.

Jamie didn’t follow them inside. He stood with his back to the door and his face hidden. Bekka almost turned back to tell Elisabeth she wanted to wait outside, but was distracted by establishment’s sole employee.

The teller didn’t seem pleased to have customers. She looked up from her phone, her glittering hoops swinging.

“What are we doing in here?” Bekka asked Elisabeth.

“Gotta get something.”

Bekka tried to look out of the window, but the neon cigarette ads blocked her view. “Um, OK. Do you think, maybe, I should wait with Jamie?”

Elisabeth laughed, “In the cold? Why?”

Bekka tried not to blush. “So…um...what do you need?”

It was one thing to crush on the new guy, but it was totally different actually talking about it.

She hadn’t done much dating. It probably didn’t make sense to start with the basketball star. Looking around for some way to change the subject, she ran into a pair of angry eyes. The girl at the counter was staring at them.

“What’s her problem?” she asked Elisabeth.

The clerk was perched on a stool behind the counter surrounded by row upon row of cigarettes. The register was ancient, but it was her heavy lipstick and scowl that captured Bekka’s attention.

Elisabeth turned, “I don’t know, but she sure is pissed we’re here.” She grabbed Bekka’s hand and pulled her into the first aisle. “I won’t be more than a few minutes. Come on.”

Bekka glanced back, “I don’t understand why she’s looking at us like that.”

“Well, she shouldn’t be. I mean, don’t people usually say hello when you come into a store? Isn’t that, like part of their job?”

Bekka nodded absently.

“Northerns,” Elisabeth sighed.

“You think the south is different?” Bekka asked, picking up cake mix and brushing the dust of the top.

“Calmer, softer, slower, nicer,” was the prompt answer.

“People here are usually nicer than that, too,” Bekka said, replacing the box. “You have a job?”

“No. You?”

Bekka frowned, “I want one, but Grams thinks it would be too much with the classes I’m taking this year. I work in the summer though.”

“We don’t work either,” Elisabeth admitted. “I would hate to work here. This place is gross.”

Bekka met the teller’s eyes again. “Yeah. Um… are you sure you don’t know that girl? She’s still staring at you.”

Elisabeth shook her head, her blond tresses bouncing. “Me? Maybe she’s staring at you. But no, I would’ve remembered someone with earrings that big.”

Bekka giggled, trying to smooth her own hair into a semblance of order. Stupid hats, no matter what she did, her hair was going to stick up straight for the rest of the night. “Even if you don’t know her,” Bekka said, watching the girl lift the plastic counter door, “I think she knows you.” She elbowed Elisabeth.

The blond twin arched a perfect eyebrow. “Maybe she knows we’re talking about her.”

Sure enough, the girl was headed in their direction. Bekka watched her approach in the mirror mounted above the drink refrigerator and read her nametag: Frannie.

A push-up bra had the girl’s goods stacked so high they seem likely to overflow. Frannie narrowed her eyes at Elisabeth as she approached.

“What do you girls need?” the teller asked. Her voice was high and her heels were higher.

Bekka had never seen shoes like them, at least not on an actual person. Bright red with a plastic sheen, they looked like something Barbie would wear.

“Just looking.” Elisabeth answered.

Bekka shot her a glance. They’d come in here for something. Why not just tell the girl what they wanted?

Frannie put a hand on one hip, cocking it out to the side. Looking at Bekka, her expression softened, “You’ve never been in here before.”

“No,” Bekka replied, confused by the comment.

“Well, can I help you find anything? This isn’t really a nice area. It might be safer if you leave.”

“I…” Bekka stuttered.

“We’re good,” Elisabeth cut in.

Frannie looked at them in frustration, “Are you sure? I can help you find what you need. You really should go.”

“We don’t need your help.”

Frannie dropped her arm, “There are a lot of aisles, you know. If you need any help...”

Bekka couldn’t help herself. “Do we know you?” she asked.

Frannie’s eyes widened in surprise, her mouth open in a little o.

“Do you go to St. Lucille’s?” Elisabeth asked.

Frannie shook her head.

Bekka wasn’t sure if she was answering her question or Elisabeth’s.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” Frannie said. “Go home. It’s not safe.”

When neither of them responded she gave Elisabeth a nasty look and stalked back to her register, her heels clicking loudly on the tiles.

“Well, then,” Elisabeth exclaimed picking up some lipstick.

Bekka turned to her, “You’ve got to know her…”

Elisabeth tossed the tube back on the shelf. “Nope. We haven’t been here long enough to make enemies.”

“Then what’s her problem?” Bekka asked.

Frannie had returned to her post, her eyes, hidden by heavy mascara, following them in the mirror.

“Don’t know.”

They walked down another aisle, Bekka watching the clerk and the clerk watching them. “Do you think she thinks we are going to steal something?” she asked.

Elisabeth turned back, “I don’t know, but this is ridiculous. I’m going to find out exactly what her problem is.” Picking up a box of toothpaste, she marched to the register, her boots squeaking on the floor.

Frannie was waiting, toying with the buttons on her blouse. Before Elisabeth could say a word, she grabbed the box out of her hand, rang up the price and slammed it back on the countertop.

Bekka felt her mouth drop open.

“That isn’t necessary,” she said, feeling the impulse to defend Elisabeth. This was her town and Frannie was being ridiculous. “What’s your problem…”

“What are you doing in here?” the girl interrupted, her eyes hadn’t left Elisabeth’s.

“Excuse me?” Bekka asked. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. No wonder this place looked like a dump, no one would ever come back to this hole after being treated this way.

“Just pay and leave,” the girl ordered, glancing sideways at Bekka. “You should be more careful. Especially now.”

Elisabeth hadn’t said a word, but when Bekka looked at her she was smiling sweetly, her athletic shoulders thrown back. She reached in her pocket and pulled out a few bills. Counting them slowly, she laid them on the counter like a fan.

Frannie frowned. “You’re short.”

“I know,” Elisabeth replied. She grabbed the box and turned for the door.

Frannie looked stunned, “You can’t....”

Elisabeth grabbed Bekka, “Sure I can!” she yelled as she ran. “Next time you shouldn’t be so rude!”

With perfect timing, Jamie opened the door and the girls ran out laughing.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Bekka managed.

Inside, Frannie was still standing where they had left her, shock plastered beneath her make-up.

Elisabeth grinned, “Give me five!”

Bekka put her hand up and got slapped.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Ouch!”

Jamie and Elisabeth both laughed, pulling her along.

“Come on,” Elisabeth smiled, “she totally deserved that!”

Bekka shrugged and then listened as Elisabeth recounted the story for her brother.

“What a jerk,” he said, finally. They were almost back to the apartment. “What is it with this city? Is everyone…?”

Catching himself, he finished, “I mean...not you, of course, Bekka. It’s just been...”

“Yeah,” Bekka agreed, “all the crazies are out tonight. I bet there’s a full moon behind those clouds.” She paused, looking at Elisabeth, “We aren’t going to get in trouble, are we?”

Jamie’s sister laughed again, “For forty-five cents? Not a chance. It wouldn’t be worth their time.”

“How do you know?” Bekka asked.

“Trust me.” Elisabeth replied, “First of all, you didn’t steal anything. Second of all, I know what I’m talking about. No one is going to bother us. Just don’t go back in that store when Frannie is around.”

“That place was horrible!” Bekka declared. “I’ll never go back.”

“It was pretty gross,” Elisabeth agreed. “That must be why they hired Frannie.”

“She didn’t get the job for her personal skills.”

Elisabeth laughed, “No, that’s for sure.”

“Have you done this before?” Bekka asked, trying to keep up with their long strides.

Elisabeth shook her head, “No, well, once in a while I guess. But only if I had a good reason.”

“Like people being complete, psychotic jerks?” Bekka supplied.

On their left were two empty storefronts and a dive bar. Bekka craned her neck towards the door and staircase. At the top of the steps, a single bulb illuminated the sign on the door: POOL.

Too bad the place seemed dirty. It might have been fun to play. She wondered if Jamie was any good. It would sure beat sitting around in the apartment. Although...

Elisabeth pushed the toothpaste further into her bag. Her voice was pitched low, almost to herself as she said, “I know I don’t know her.”

Bekka didn’t reply. Either there was something going on with Frannie or Elisabeth just wasn’t remembering. People didn’t act like for no reason. And what had she meant when she said they, “weren’t supposed to be in there?”

It almost sounded like Frannie had been warning them away, like the place was dangerous somehow.

The sidewalk was a mess so Bekka moved closer to the buildings. A cabbie flashed his lights at them, but they ignored him, they only had a few more blocks and no one wanted to spend the money. It wasn’t that cold, not yet.

Seeing the light of apartment’s foyer, they rushed the last block, snow chunks flying across the sidewalk, kicked up by their hurried steps. As soon as he was close enough, Jamie hit the button to buzz them in, blinking in the light from the lamp. In moments, Arthur was at the door.

“Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds,” the night watchman said. He smiled down at her, “And Bekka, wonderful to see you.” He had skin the color of hot chocolate, eyes like hazelnuts and the warmest personality she knew.

Bekka and her grandmother had relocated to Philadelphia when she was in sixth grade and Arthur had helped them move into their apartment. She’d known him since then and he’d always been kind to her.

She let the twins get ahead of her. “Arthur, some man from the newspaper was really weird today. Don’t let him in, all right?” The lobby was empty and hot, the iron furnace pumping air against the interior of the doorway.

Arthur’s expression darkened, “Of course, princess. No one is allowed in here that doesn’t belong.”

“Thanks,” she whispered.

Arthur wouldn’t let anyone in, she was sure of it. Relaxing a bit, she ran to catch up with the others. Elisabeth and Jamie were using the steps, so Bekka flew up the first two flights, hoping she wouldn’t trip. Catching them, she said, breathlessly, “You guys want to come up? My Grandma’s out for a while yet.”

They stopped and exchanged glances.

Bekka felt her heart stutter in her chest.

Had she misread the signals? Maybe they just wanted to get rid of her and do whatever they had been planning to do with their Friday night. That must have been why they’d gotten so far in front of her. She felt her face flush and took a step back.

Her mind worked quickly. It had been nice enough of them to walk her back. She shouldn’t have assumed they would want to hang out. Elisabeth must have been running interference for her brother at the convenience store so he could call whoever they were going to meet tonight.

“Why don’t you stop by our place on the 6th?” Elisabeth asked, kicking the snow off her boots onto the carpet.

“No one is ever home at our place,” Elisabeth explained.

“Nice. Why?” Bekka asked.

The girl’s mouth turned sour and she pulled off her mittens and stuck them into her pockets. “Dad died when we were little. Mom is overseas.”

“Oh,” Bekka exhaled. They started climbing again and the silence stretched.

She might as well just say it. The twins would find out eventually. “Both my folks are dead. It’s just me and my grandmother.”

Elisabeth gave her a surprised look and then a half smile. “Well, we’ve got tons of snacks.”

“Sweet,” Bekka replied as Jamie unlocked the door.

Their apartment had nothing on the walls, but they had a huge TV and a game console with a bunch of games.

“Nice set up,” she said as Elisabeth threw her stuff in the corner and grabbed some snacks from the kitchen. The countertops were clean and there wasn’t anything hanging on the fridge.

“Yeah, it’s OK,” Elisabeth answered.

Jamie flopped on the sofa and let his head fall back against the pillow, closing his eyes. “I’m so happy it’s the weekend,” he groaned.

Bekka sat next to him on the floor. The carpet smelled new. She looked around, trying to find something to say. She wasn’t the best with strangers and this conversation was more work than she was expecting. “You had a really good game, Jamie,” she said at last.

“Thanks. I’m glad we beat ‘em.” A smile played on his lips.

“How come you don’t play?” Elisabeth asked her, stuffing chips into her mouth. “It seems like you really like the game.”

Bekka made a motion with her hand indicating that she was oh-so-short.

Elisabeth shrugged, “Plenty of point-guards are short. You just have to be fast.”

“I’m probably the least coordinated person you’ve ever met. And no one has ever called me ‘fast’."

“Please…” Elisabeth replied, pulling off her sweatshirt and grabbing some cookies. They were the prepackaged store brand kind. “I can think of some who’ve got you beat.” Rubbing the crumbs off on her pants, she said, “There was this one kid in Ohio...”

Jamie interrupted her, “I don’t think Bekka wants to hear about Ohio, Elisabeth.”

His sister looked at him with surprise, more unspoken communication passing across the room. Bekka hoped they didn’t do this all the time. The whole twin thing was strange enough without them reading each other’s minds.

In a lot of ways she was actually jealous. She’d wanted a sister or brother for as long as she could remember. She could usually predict what her grandmother was going to say before she said it, but that wasn’t the same thing. Her Grams was old and things she said were often reminders for Bekka to stay safe in the city and get her work done. Not that her Grandmother didn’t have anything else to say, but she definitely preferred to hear what was going on in Bekka’s life than to talk.

Elisabeth plopped onto the carpet. “Well, anyway,” she muttered, “there are plenty of uncoordinated people out there. All you need is a little practice. If you want, we can go to the gym sometime and I can show you some basics.”

Bekka waved her off, “Thanks for the offer, but...”

“If I were you, I’d be taking kickboxing or Tai Chi or something,” Jamie chimed in. His voice sounded amused. “The way that newspaper guy was looking at you…”

“What did he say, anyway?” Elisabeth asked, intrigued.

Bekka grabbed a few from the bag and ate them, giving herself time to think. They were salt and vinegar, her favorite. “Nothing really. But he wanted me to meet him at a diner. To help him find someone. ”

“You know him from somewhere else?” Jamie asked.

Bekka shook her head, “I’m not sure. I thought he was filling in for the regular guy, but it’s possible. I don’t really remember.”

“You have brothers or sisters or anything?” Elisabeth asked, seeming to follow her earlier train of thought.

Bekka didn’t believe in that kind of stuff, but Elisabeth was eerily good at reading people’s mind. “No,” she replied, answering the question. “It’s just me and Grams.”

“But you’re not from here?” Jamie asked.

“No,” she replied.

It was her brother who replied. “I thought I recognized a little accent.”

Bekka smiled at him, combing through her long dark hair with her fingers. “We lived in New Orleans for a while.”

“We did, too,” Jamie murmured.

Elisabeth coughed. “Well, you guys want to just sit here or you want to do something? It’s only ten and it is Friday night!”

“Sure,” her brother replied. “What did you have in mind?”

Elisabeth shrugged and then looked at Bekka.

“Don’t ask me,” Bekka explained. “You guys can do whatever you want, but my grandmother doesn’t usually let me out late.”

“You’re ready to leave?”

“Um…” she stalled. “What do you guys like to do?”

“Movies? Games?” Elisabeth stretched her legs. “We’re new, remember. I don’t have any idea what’s fun in this town.”

Bekka tugged at her sweater, “Well...there is a movie theater not far from here and a bunch of restaurants.” Neither of the twins looked impressed so she continued, “Lots of kids try to get into the college parties. Drexel, Temple, Penn, most of them are in walking distance, although we might freeze.”

“Really?” Elisabeth’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, Jamie, let’s go. It’ll be so much fun! Do we need IDs?”

Bekka shook her head, “I don’t think so.”

“Good,” she replied, and as quick as that she was running to her room to change.

Jamie’s cool blue eyes focused on Bekka and his expression was thoughtful, “You’re going to go to a college party?”

Bekka wanted to die, that, or hide under a very, very large rock. After her suggestion, how could she not go? Unfortunately, she had Grams to contend with. The twins didn’t seem to have anyone checking up on their curfew, but her grandmother would be home from her card night soon.

Maybe she could go up and talk to her for a bit, head to bed and then climb out the fire escape. She realized Jamie was still watching her. “I want to,” she said. “But… Grams will be home soon.”

“What about tomorrow?”

Bekka closed her eyes. Was Jamie Renolds asking her out? “I, um...”

Elisabeth threw herself through her bedroom doorway looking perfect. Her hair was a loose, soft halo around her face and she had heavy eyeliner rimmed about her blue eyes. She had also traded her sweats for a slinky black dress that showed all her curves.

“Wow!” Bekka exclaimed. “You look great!”

Elisabeth grinned, “I haven’t been to a party in ages. Where are we headed? Don’t you need to change?”

Bekka looked down at her fingers. “I...”

“She isn’t coming,” Jamie explained. “Her grandmother is going to be waiting up for her.”

“Aww,” Elisabeth pouted. “What about tomorrow?”

Before Jamie could answer for her, Bekka blurted, “Yes! Tomorrow! I can probably go tomorrow.”

Elisabeth clapped her hands, jumping up and down, her leg muscles flexing, “Great, we’ll go check it out tonight and see where to go.” She turned to her brother, “You up for some reconnaissance?”

“Sure,” he agreed. “Let’s do it.”

“I should go,” Bekka said, getting up.

Jamie got off the couch and walked her to the door. “See you tomorrow, Bekka.”

She thought about the look on his face all the way back to her apartment. He was so hard to read. She passed Mrs. Flynn’s door and unlocked her apartment. Surprisingly, her grandmother wasn’t home yet so she changed into pajamas and got into bed. She checked her phone before she plugged it in and she saw she had messages from Wyatt. Her instinct was to respond, but for some reason she didn’t.

She snuggled into her bed. In moments, her cat, Scottie, was cuddled against her side. The cat’s warm fur and steady purr put her to sleep almost instantly.

Her dream was a recurring one.

She sat on the shore of a winter beach. In her dream there was no one with her. It was just an open expanse of sand and rocks. There was land behind her, she knew there was, but she never turned to see it. It was just a haze of green, fuzzy and unimportant to her dreaming mind.

What was important was the sea. Her dream self sat on the beach and watched the waves. In the morning, she would think that watching the sea all night would be boring, but in her dream, she was mesmerized. The waves came in and out, the black-blue sweeping against the sand. Inexorable. She watched them, sitting like that on the shore, until she awoke.

In the morning she could smell pancakes.

Bekka rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and rolled out of bed. Her mind was foggy, but last night made a solid week that she had been dreaming that dream and she was getting used to waking up tired. Apparently, watching the waves all night was hard work.

“How was the game?” her grandmother asked when she sat down at the table.

Bekka was wearing her footy socks. If Jamie saw her now, he’d think she looked about twelve. “We won again.”

“That’s good. You have any tests on Monday?”

She nodded, “Two.”

Her grandmother put a plate of pancakes on table. “Help yourself, dear. I can make more if you’re still hungry.”

Bekka realized she was famished. She loaded three big pancakes onto her plate and then poured on the maple syrup. Using a knife, she divided the mound into manageable bites. “Did you eat yet?” she asked, eyeing the last two cakes on the plate.

“Mmm, hmmm,” her grandmother replied. She was in the middle of cleaning up and Bekka knew from experience that talking to her while she was working was like talking to a wall. Using her fork, Bekka pulled the rest of the pancakes onto her plate.

“Here’s some milk,” Grams said, offering her a glass.

Bekka smiled her thanks.

Her grandmother looked well today. She had her hair up in curlers and she’d already changed out of her robe and into a sweater and jeans.

“What are you doing today?” Bekka asked.

“Oh, just this and that,” was the reply. “What are you doing?”

Bekka grinned, “Studying.”

“Good.”

“With a friend,” she added.

Her grandmother stopped cleaning. “What friend?”

Bekka got up and put her plate in the dishwasher, studiously avoiding her grandmother’s eyes. “Oh, uh, Elisabeth from downstairs.”

“Who?”

“Elisabeth,” Bekka explained. “She’s new and in a bunch of my classes. I thought I’d go over there this afternoon and help her get caught up.”

“That would be nice.”

“And…” Bekka continued. Scottie circled her legs as if he were upset with what she was about to say. “I thought that I could go out afterwards.”

“Out where?”

“Oh, to get dinner and then maybe a movie. I won’t be in too late.”