"If you're ready to sign today, I can offer you zero percent APR for the first year."
"Yeah," Becky says, staring at her phone. "Sure. I just need another minute..."
"Take your time," the salesman says with a plasticky grin, and walks off to the other end of the showroom to help another customer.
Becky opens her Messages app, as if re-opening it will make a new notification appear. But no, her texts remain unanswered.
The first reach-out she'd sent only three hours after leaving Freen blue-balled: Cooled off yet? Paired with the sweating face emoji and the laughing emoji. No response, but Becky knew that one might fall flat; her emoji game isn't very strong.
She'd tried again right before going to bed last night: What are you doing now? She'd thought it might ease into some light sexting, but no response. Whatever, she figured Freen was still angry.
This morning, she'd sent another three texts to Freen from the Honda showroom, at various points while tuning out the dealer's sales pitch.
Might get some fresh wheels this morning. So I can drive you around now
Come help me pick out my new car?
I've got my eye on a sensible used sedan you'd love to make fun of
For some reason, she's still holding out hope that Freen might suddenly answer, and want to come down to the dealership, banter with Becky about how driving a five-year-old car is an embarrassment, and then they'd laugh away every memory of their fight.
After tapping her screen uselessly a few more times, Becky finally tucks her phone away and calls the salesman back over. Two minutes later, she's the proud owner of a blue 2015 Honda Civic.
Regardless of her fight with Freen, it was really time for Becky to buy a car anyway, as she's beginning to settle back into being in Boston for the time being. Much as she doesn't mind public transit, there are plenty of places not accessible on the T. She feels bad about asking Kenny for rides so often, and now that Freen doesn't have a car, it seemed like a great excuse.
And it was a great excuse to reach out to Freen, too.
While Becky makes her inaugural journey home in her new vehicle, she tries her hardest not to obsess. If Freen's mad, let her be mad. Becky's done her due diligence trying to reach out, and if Freen wants to sulk, that's her prerogative.
Right as Becky pulls into the driveway, her phone buzzes, and she's a little too eager to check it. Her excitement fades when she sees it's only a text from Carolyn to the entire family group chat to confirm a plan for dinner on Becky's birthday, coming up in just over a week.
Becky types out a quick affirmative message, then goes up to her room.
Lying on her bed, on her phone. Almost a flashback to her teen years, except back then it was holding an actual landline phone and talking with her friends. Now, it's staring down at her backlit screen as she types a text to Bill.
Becky: Hey, I need advice
Becky: my hitachi wand is acting up again.
(Becky began using this as a codename for Freen, just in case Kenny or anyone else should see her texts with Bill over her shoulder. It seemed fitting, since the main purpose of each was to provide excellent orgasms without emotional attachment.)
Bill: What seems to be the problem?
Becky: I cant find it, it's not responding
Becky: I don't know if it's out of batteries or mad at me or what
YOU ARE READING
And Our Parents
RomanceBecky, we are all adults here." "It's hard to take that seriously when you have your hand in my pants. The chemistry between Becky and Freen is obvious and immediate, so it's awkward when they find out their parents are getting married. This is a co...
