B E T T Y | Grey's Anatomy

4

Amelia's Keurig percusses the awkward silence between herself and Betty.

"Alright, two hot chocolates." Amelia sprays some squirty cream on her beverage. "Want some?" Betty shakes her head.

"What Keurig pods do you use?" Betty asks, taking the drink from Amelia. Amelia shows the pod and Betty seems content, beginning to sip her drink.

"Um, thankyou."

"You're welcome." Amelia smiles.

"How's school?" Amelia questions once herself and Betty have positioned themselves in the previous places on the couch. Betty sits as close to the edge of the couch as possible, the under side of her thighs not touching the cushions. In their tensed position, Amelia notices Betty has lost muscle tone. Perhaps she's grown taller, but the circumference of those thighs was significantly healthier a year  ago.

"Graduated early. Track honours."

"Oh wow! I mean... I'm not surprised, you're one hell of a runner." The comment is loaded and Betty splutters over it. 

"You looking at colleges?"

"I'm not sure." Betty stares into her drink. 

"Well you've got time! There's no rush. Do you have a college fund?"

Betty nods.

"Okay good. But if you get into a private school let me know and I can pay the top up fees." Amelia begins to ramble. 

"Amelia." Betty halts. Any kind of bind to Amelia would be too much to cope with, but a financial bind? That would be even worse. 

"I'm serious. I've got savings and a high income to replenish those savings pretty fast. Don't decline an Ivy League if money is the only problem."

"Don't. Don't pity me." Betty shakes her head.  "I don't want charity."

"Sorry. I just.... The offer is there."

There's static in the air once again, like the black and white buzzing of an old television without a signal. The fuzziness and electricity act as a barrier between the women, and if one was to reach out, they'd be zapped. 

"I was wondering," Amelia sets her empty mug on the side board, a couple inches back from the edge (a habit she's developed with Scout's tendency to touch anything and everything within his reach) "when you've finished your drink, would you be up for a shower? Not trying to be rude, but your clothes are soaking wet and your hair's gone frizzy, and I'm not sure how quickly the drink will warm you up."

"Oh... um..." Anxiety fills Betty instantly at the thought of being without the protection of her clothes. Although, in Betty's mind, physical vulnerability is easier to cope with than mental. 

"I'm not forcing you, you just look really uncomfortable, and you never used to like sitting in wet clothes." Amelia smiles at a memory. "You'd ring me at school for new pants if you spilled water on them at lunch."

"I shouldn't have done that." Betty chastises herself in a monotone fashion. 

"Shouldn't have done what?"

"Ring you."

"Why not?"

"You weren't my mother." The word 'mother' lingers in the air, getting caught and held in the static, before the glitches of that old television dissolve it away. Still, the word hung between the women for seconds too long, neither of them wanting to have to look at it. 

"No I suppose you're right."

Amelia's phone rings. A welcome distraction for the neurosurgeon.