Deafening Silence

Chapter 4

Beck

"Travis freaking Stone was in your garage," Carson said after I had told her what happened the day before. Now she was lying spread out on my twin bed. Even with how short she was, she took up all of the small space. I was left sitting with my knees pulled up to my chin in my desk chair.

"What's the big deal?" I asked. Carson sat up looking shocked.

"What's the big deal?" she repeated.

"That's what I said."

"What's the big deal?" Carson was almost shouting now.

"Carse, you repeating what I said isn't helping much right now."

"The big deal is that you were in your garage. Together. Alone."

"Yes but we were also in his truck. Together. Alone."

"Jesus, Beck." she said, falling back onto my bed.

"Nothing happened, Carson," I said exasperatedly. "I yelled at him, he yelled at me, end of story."

"Well he could have done much worse. Because, well...you know... Together. Alone."

"God Carson." I covered my face with my hands. "Be serious."

"Alright so let me get this straight. You told him off, he got mad, you started yelling, he started yelling, and then he practically ripped your arm off and left you crying in your garage."

"Well he didn't really rip off my arm and it wasn't exactly his fault that I was crying—"

"Beckett Taylor don't defend the guy," Carson said, sitting up. "He's an ass." Carson was the only one who called me by my given name. She used it now only when she was being serious, but she called me Beckett all the time when we were younger.

We met in summer camp when we were five. I was in the middle of building the most amazing lego mansion when Carson walked by with handfuls of scissors. She dropped one of the pairs of scissors, and I reached out to catch it. The scissors ended up opening during their fall, slicing through the palm of my hand when I tried to grab them. The cut started bleeding and Carson started screaming.

At the hospital, I got seven stitches and a lecture on not catching sharp falling objects. Carson's dad brought her to apologize to me, and Carson was crying the whole time, barely getting out the words to her apology. I sat there quietly and listened. When she was done, I told her that I didn't get to finish my lego mansion. Carson had sniffed once, wiping her nose on her sleeve, and said that she could help me finish it since she ruined my hand.

When I went back to camp the next week, Carson and I continued to work on my lego creation. She called me Beckett that first day. I told her everyone called me Beck, and then she said that we were best friends now and best friends don't call each other by their common names.

Carson was fiercely protective of me, pushing down any bully who made fun of me for wearing boy clothes. Mom had left a few years after I met Carson, so you can't really blame my dad for buying me boy clothes. Even now, I barely wear anything other than jeans. Dresses are a big no.

I grew up with Carson as my sister. Carson's parents are always fighting so she didn't have a big support system. So I interrogate her boyfriends, do her laundry that somehow always ends up in mine, and everything in between.

Dad does his best at being a dad, but it's always been hard for him. As a police officer, he's not home much. So when Carson heard about what had happened with Travis, she was in full on protector mode.