A Gentle Collision

Chapter 14

The sun was barely above the horizon, casting an early glow over the quiet streets. Becky was already awake, lying in bed with her headphones plugged in, the soft sound of music filling her ears. It was an automatic ritual, one that she had done every Sunday for as long as she could remember. Music was the one thing that kept her mind from wandering into uncomfortable places. And today, like every other Sunday, her mind seemed determined to find something to worry about.

It had been an odd day already, and it hadn’t even begun. Becky had spent most of the night replaying the events of last night’s party. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Freen—Freen, with her quiet eyes and stiff demeanor. There was something about her that Becky couldn’t quite put her finger on. It wasn’t just that Freen was different from the others; there was a weight to her presence that unsettled Becky in ways she wasn’t used to.

She pulled the blanket over her head, blocking out the thoughts that buzzed around her mind. Just as she did, she heard a soft knock on her door.

“Becky, honey, time to get up. It's Sunday,” her mom called through the door in that gentle, sing-song voice that made everything sound lighter.

Becky groaned and rolled out of bed, pulling the headphones from her ears with a huff. “Yeah, yeah, coming, Mom,” she muttered, more out of habit than anything else. There was no escaping the weekend routine, not even on the days she’d rather stay in bed and shut out the world.

She slipped on a pair of worn-out jeans and a faded T-shirt, feeling the weight of the ordinary press against her chest. Her mother, as always, was already in the kitchen, cooking up something that smelled way too good for a day that felt too long.

“Good morning!” her mother greeted brightly, handing her a plate with a generous serving of eggs, bacon, and toast, the same thing they always had on Sundays. It was a meal that was as comforting as it was repetitive.

Becky gave a tight smile, not feeling like herself today. Her mom was the only person who ever seemed to know how to make things seem right. She was warm, always there with a smile or a kind word, but sometimes, Becky couldn’t help but feel like an outsider in her own house. Her mom was too... perfect, too normal.

“Morning,” Becky replied, sitting at the kitchen table, already feeling a disconnect from the comfortable routine her mom was creating.

“You look a little off today,” her mother said as she set a glass of orange juice down in front of her. “Anything on your mind?”

Becky stared at the glass for a moment, then at her mother’s face. Her mother’s features were soft, kind, and utterly open, like an invitation to share whatever was on her mind. It felt... foreign. Becky wasn’t used to this kind of warmth. She had never been able to express herself like this, not when there was always something gnawing at her insides, some emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“I’m fine,” Becky said, her voice flat. “Just tired.”

Her mother didn’t press, but the silence between them stretched for a moment before her mom broke it again, “You know, if you want to talk about anything, I’m here. You can tell me anything, sweetie.”

Becky shrugged, her eyes scanning the kitchen. She wasn’t sure what her mother wanted to hear, but she knew what she didn’t want to say. There was no point in dragging things up, no need to talk about how her life had become a series of monotonous motions. And definitely no reason to talk about how she had been thinking about Freen ever since last night.

Instead, she poked at her breakfast, taking a bite when her mother’s gaze lingered a little too long on her. The conversation didn’t go anywhere for a while after that. Becky just ate, feeling the weight of the silence between them. Her mother seemed to notice the change in the air but didn’t ask more. She simply allowed it to hang there, patiently giving Becky space to do whatever she needed.

After breakfast, her mom suggested they go for a walk in the nearby park, just like they did most Sundays. It was one of the few times Becky didn’t mind spending time with her mom, but today it felt... odd.

“I’m not really in the mood,” Becky muttered, glancing out the window at the bright morning, but there was no excitement in her voice.

“You need to get some fresh air, dear,” her mother said, her tone sweet but firm. “You’ve been cooped up in that room for days. Come on, just a little walk. It’ll do you good.”

Becky rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She’d learned long ago that arguing with her mom was a waste of time. So, she grabbed her jacket and reluctantly followed her mother out the door. They walked side by side, but the air between them felt distant today. It wasn’t anything her mom had done. It was just... her.

As they walked through the park, Becky found herself dragging her feet, barely paying attention to the world around her. The trees swayed gently in the breeze, and the path ahead of them was lined with blooming flowers, but all she could think about was the nagging feeling that she couldn’t shake.

Freen.

She wasn’t sure what it was, but something about her haunted Becky’s thoughts. Maybe it was the way she had seemed so out of place last night, how she stood there, distant and quiet, yet somehow different from the other girls at the party. Or maybe it was the way she had looked when Becky had tried to talk to her, her eyes holding something—something that Becky couldn’t quite place.

What was it? Why did it keep bothering her? Becky tried to ignore it, shaking her head to herself, but the more she tried to push the thoughts aside, the more they seemed to linger. And her mom’s cheerful chatter only seemed to make it worse.

“You’re so quiet today, Becky. Is everything okay?” her mom asked, stopping to glance at her.

Becky opened her mouth to say something—anything—but the words didn’t come out. She wasn’t sure how to explain what was happening inside her head. The thing with Freen was confusing enough without adding it to the mix of everything else.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, forcing a smile. “Just thinking.”

Her mother gave her a look that Becky knew all too well, the one that said she wasn’t entirely convinced. But she didn’t press, instead pulling her into a light conversation about some of the neighbors and their kids, which Becky half-listened to as they continued walking. The world around her felt too normal, too normal for her. Becky was starting to realize that she didn’t belong in this world, that her world of headphones and isolation was the only place where she could exist without feeling like an outsider.

They made their way to a bench in the park, where her mom sat down, still talking about trivial things that held no real weight for Becky. She sat beside her, but her mind kept drifting back to Freen.

Was it strange to feel this way? To think about someone she barely knew?

The thought lingered, but before she could dwell on it further, her mom’s voice broke through again.

“You know, I’m always here for you, honey,” her mom said, her voice soft and loving. “No matter what.”

Becky nodded, giving her a half-hearted smile.

“I know, Mom,” she replied, not fully hearing the words. She was already lost in her own thoughts, the feeling of being distant from everyone slowly creeping back in. Maybe she was just tired of pretending. Tired of feeling disconnected from everything that once made sense.

But for now, all she could do was sit there with her mother, the quiet of the park and the sound of her mom’s gentle voice filling the space between them, as Becky silently tried to ignore the strange, foreign thoughts of Freen that lingered just below the surface.