As Told By Nerdy

Chapter 12 - Becky's Dreams

I missed the Dodekatheon moments. Your quirky and often, awkward ideas always seem to leave an inspiration to others. 'Keep smiling, Anneliese' :)

When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving oneself, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.

                                                                                            ---Oscar Wilde

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Chapter 12 – Becky’s Dreams

“Are you okay?” I asked Becky as we sat on our usual lunch table at the back of the cafeteria.

She had been in high spirits all morning, smiling and laughing more frequently than usual. I had prepared myself to comfort her and frankly, I half anticipated a sullen disposition from her after what occurred last night. I was not one to complain but I found it rather odd. Nonetheless, she seemed to be jumpy today.

“I guess,” Becky smiled at me and gazed vacantly to the center of the dining hall where the football team sat with their cheerleader girlfriends, more often than not, busy with their rowdy commotion.

It took me a second to see who she was looking at.

Matt sat unmoving, obviously indifferent of the laughter that echoed throughout the hall. His teammates, including Mike Sullivan with Leigh Murough—I think they were sort of together—were having a laughing fit. Once the annoying gurgles ceased, couples resumed huddling in pairs, whispering to each other’s ear — public display of affection with a passion. Ugh.

“Why’d you ask,” Becky added tentatively.

I shrugged, trying to conduct myself as casual as possible. “I just noticed how cheerful you are today,” I replied with a smile. “Not that it’s a bad thing.” I added with a wry smile.

Becky giggled nervously and beckoned me to lean closer. “I sort of confessed to Matt Adams.” She closed her eyes, creasing her forehead, waiting for my reaction.

My brows creased in bewilderment, my breathing heavy. “What?! Why? How—“

“Didn’t I mention to you before? I’ve sort of liked him since the fourth grade.” She was out of breath.

“Thinking… Still thinking… Uh no! You’ve never told me before.” She caught me by surprise. Lucky me.

Becky frowned and pressed her lips together to keep from grinning foolishly, I guess. “Remember my blunder in fourth grade?”

“Let me see… The one when you had your foot stuck in a bucket for the whole period and you had to drag it while clanking all the way to the nurse’s office?” I smirked.

“Yes… No!!!” She flushed angrily. “Not that. The one when Mrs. Riley asked us our dream jobs.”

I thought about it. When Becky was asked by the teacher she said, “I… would like to be a wife,” looking all confused.

Mrs. Riley paused from pacing all around the classroom. “A wife…” she repeated dubiously.

And Becky practically half-rambled, half-shrieked. “Y-yes! I’d like to be a wife to an athlete, with dark hair, russet skin, big brown eyes and tall… He’s really tall. I’d take care of the children and wait for him to come home from work. And I’d have to stay home and do the laundry and cook dinner for him then clean the dishes, oh and the house as well and whatever it is that housewives do.”