Becca's Moments

Chapter ThirtyThree Part 1

Becca

The months flew by and we'd reached the tail end of summer: August. The heatwave had died down, and I welcomed the long sunny days, warm weather and good vibes.

I'd become more of a recluse over the past few weeks. Even though my migraines faded and I was back to full health, part of me wanted to prevent any other freak accidents from happening. So I stayed indoors more often than not – and everyone around me never let me forget it.

But that didn't mean I was antisocial. I just wasn't on the street 24/7 like before. I was more hesitant to accept invitations, or flat-out saying no to parties and raves. Unfortunately, I'd developed a slight agoraphobia. Being in enormous crowds and open spaces made me feel like an easy target. Irrational, I know, but I couldn't shake the PTSD.

Tyreece had been my rock ever since. He made me feel like my phobia was valid, and he stuck around most days to keep me company. Nothing had happened between us, but sometimes we'd lock eyes and my heart would clench. It was probably just a me problem because Ty never made a move. Instead, he complimented me frequently, spent quality time with me, and even lent me some of his hoodies.

Ty's company kept me sane most days. So, when he told me he was visiting family in Barbados for three weeks, I had a near-panic attack. Luckily, the weeks flew by. I occupied my time by reading and doing coursework. He was due back tomorrow evening, and I couldn't wait to see him.

Boredom would've killed me if I didn't have company, but Chris joined me today. He sat on my bed, scrolling through his phone and making small remarks here and there. When I wasn't busy with Ty, everyone else took turns to visit, since I wasn't outside as much. 

"Your friend's a freak, y'know," Chris said with a chuckle.

Judging by his smug smile, I knew exactly who he referred to. He and Grace had been going at it like rabbits, and they had subjected me to their dirty talk many times without my consent.

"That's 'cause you corrupted her," I muttered. "And stop sexting in front of me."

"Sorry, sorry." He slipped his phone in his pocket and focused on me. "You working on Saturday?"

I nodded. Footlocker reopened a month after the incident. I'd had a couple of meetings with Herman and the head office about my return. They even offered counselling, though I rejected the offer. Truthfully, it was probably to stop me from suing the company, but that never crossed my mind, anyway.

Once that was all taken care of, I returned to work two weeks after everyone else and received a warm welcome from my colleagues. Things went back to normal, but I sometimes felt wary doing any tasks by the shop window. Nathan was a saint; he always took on the more laborious jobs and made sure I stayed by the till on my shifts.

Still, it wasn't long before I began to resent the shop. Being there was a constant reminder of my injury. Even though it wasn't fatal, I couldn't help but anticipate it happening again. Sometimes I wished Footlocker would burn down, just so I didn't have to face it. Then I'd feel bad for thinking such morbid thoughts. That was exactly why I started searching for another retail job, but no luck yet. I just had to stick it out until then.

"What time you finish?" Chris asked, snapping me out of my reverie.

"It's an early shift, so around one. Why?"

"I'm having a little gathering at mine. You down?"

My muscled tensed. Being in a room full of people was...

"It would be the school lot," Chris added, sensing my apprehension. "Just a chill games night. Food, drinks, music, the usual. It's a small ting, I promise."