Echoes

Push Comes to Shove

Hope crossed her arms and stared out the passenger window, watching the streetlights play on the glass as Derrick sped through the city streets. The downtown nightlife hadn't picked up yet, so Derrick could still weave between slow-moving cars and taxis.
Someone honked and brakes squealed. Derrick loosed a stream of profanity out the window.
"Slow down," Hope said. "You're gonna get us killed."
"You questioning my driving now too?"
"I just want to survive the trip."
"I liked it better when you were giving me the silent treatment." Derrick tugged the wheel and switched lanes. "Can we go back to that?" He turned up the volume on the stereo and took a left turn.
Hope pushed down on the inside of her lips with her teeth, squeezing them together so tight it hurt. Fury coursed through her at the thought of--well, everything so far this night. How can he be so immature? Silent treatment? What, are we in middle school?
"No," Hope finally declared, turning off the music. "I'm not going to just shut up and endure this stifling silence the whole way home. Let's talk about this, sort this out."
Derrick snorted and said nothing.
"I get that I had the wrong expectation," Hope said, fighting to remain calm. "When I realized that wasn't what you were asking, maybe I took it harder than I should have."
"You think?" Derrick glanced at her, waiting for a response. His face seemed a mixture of a sneer and a look of disgust.
Hope rolled her eyes. He's not going to budge on this. He probably thinks he's completely innocent. You'll have to back down if you're going to resolve this mess.
A question formed in her mind and caught her off guard. Is that even what I want?
Still, she softened her tone and tried a gentler approach. "Can you see it from my point of view? A big date, an expensive dinner at a special restaurant... we've been together for a few months now..."
Derrick cocked his head and pursed his lips, a look she'd come to know meant you're right but I'm not going to admit it.

Inside the dim Hub, Echoes clustered together in the usual cliques, their eyes fixed on the screens showing the Prime's interaction with her potential mate. Forsephore stood surrounded by her allies, but her gaze did not move from the harsh face of Sevnynate, the Chief Alpha.
Amid the distraction of the fight between the Prime and the man she loved, Sevnynate had called Tuwonyne forward to the dais. They faced each other now, both blazing with Inspiration, neither pleased with the other. Tuwonyne's wedding dress flowed like liquid light behind her, and her perfect curls glowed. Sevnynate shone brighter, but looked darker, like bottled fury seeking explosive release.
Forsephore strained her ears to make out words, though Sevnynate's fleeting glances in her direction made it clear the conversation involved the recent shifts among the Alphas. The Prime's changing priorities, her fledging confidence and belief in herself, her interests and passions and dreams--all of Forsephore's efforts were building to a climax. Something could change tonight, something big enough to shift the course of Hope's life. For better or worse.
Sevnynate threw her head back in a too-arrogant laugh at something Tuwonyne said, then gestured to the monitors above.

Derrick hit the brakes and pulled alongside the curb. "Here we are," he said, staring straight ahead.
Hope crossed her arms and watched Derrick's blank face for any indication of emotion. He didn't even put it in park.
"I know you're mad," Hope ventured. "But I--"
"I'm not mad."
"Okay, sure. I know you're not happy."
"Whatever."
"Look, you had to know by now that I've got pretty... traditional views," Hope said. "I wasn't prepared for what you suggested, and I was kind of expecting something else. Something much different."
Derrick sighed and slammed the shifter into park, then turned toward Hope with a scowl. "You said that already."
"Holy crap, dude," Hope said. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to pick a fight. I'm telling you it's my fault that we had a misunderstanding."
"Yeah, I'm sorry you did that too. We done talking about it?"
Hope blinked and hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. We don't have to talk about it any more. I think we're both clear about what happened."
Derrick stared at her for a moment as if waiting for something.
Hope frowned. "Aren't you at least going to walk me to my door?"
Without a word, Derrick stepped out of the 'Vette and walked around the front of the car, its engine still rumbling. He grabbed Hope's door handle and yanked it open, then stood in silence.
"Thank you," Hope said, forcing an icy chill into her voice.
She walked toward the front door of her apartment complex, arms still folded across her chest. How could he be so rude? So cold and distant? This is petty--we already sorted out what caused the fight, haven't we?
"I did have a good time tonight, Derrick," Hope said. "Thank you for that."
Derrick nodded and reached for the apartment door. "Laters."
Hope turned and took Derrick's hand from the door handle. "Are we okay? If you don't want to talk now, would you call me when you get home so we can settle all this?"
"Yeah, sure," Derrick said. "How about tomorrow? I'm heading out to grab a drink."
"Uh... Okay. Where are you heading?"
"Matt and Tom and some of the other guys are hanging out at Pandora. I'll meet up with them and chill." 
Fear pierced her like an icicle in her chest, and Hope stiffened. "You're going dancing?"
"Well, maybe. Why not?"
"If Matt's there," Hope said, "then Jenna's going to be there. Is she one of your girls who's down for anything?"
Derrick laughed. "Yeah, probably. Wouldn't be the first time. Her and Matt like to have fun. No big deal."
"A big enough deal that we got into a fight over me not going along with whatever you wanted," Hope said. "Jesus, Derrick, what is going on in our relationship. Am I--" She locked eyes with him, knowing but ignoring the desperation that must be obvious on her face. Her hands grasped his, and she fought to keep them still. "Tell me the truth. Are you not satisfied with me?"
Derrick furrowed his brow, then chuckled and looked away. "This is stupid, babe. Just relax. I told you, it's no big deal."
Hope gripped Derrick's hands and resisted as he pulled back. "No," she said, "no, it's a very big deal, a really damn big deal, Derrick. We need to talk about this right now."
"Take a deep breath, stop being emotional about everything," Derrick said. "You need to talk about this right now maybe, but I need a drink before we have another one of those conversations."
He tore his hands free and turned toward his Corvette. "We'll talk tomorrow," he said over his shoulder. His voice echoed off buildings in the night, and Hope noted heads peering out of windows.
I don't care if they hear. Hope dashed around the back of the car and reached in for the ignition, putting the car door between her and Derrick. "We're talking about this now."
"Get your hands off my 'Vette," Derrick said, his tone softer yet more intense.
Hope's fingertips fumbled over the keys and she turned them, hoping to kill the engine. The starter squealed and whined.
Derrick's heavy hands reached through the lowered window and shoved Hope. Her shoulder crashed into the doorframe before momentum spun her out of the car. She leaned against the rear of the car and clutched her side, wincing in pain.

Within the crowded central chamber of the Hub, Echoes in various shades and states of radiance watched the monitors in the high vaulted ceiling. As the Prime spun across the side of the car, gasps resounded throughout the chamber, followed by an all-encompassing hush.
Tuwonyne cried out and fell to the floor, dark gray. She curled up and grasped her abdomen as if struck in the stomach. Inspiration floated in the air above her in splotches and strands, like an impressionist painting made of liquid light. Tuwonyne's limbs shrunk until she looked anorexic, her bones protruding from taut skin. The garment of her dress seemed to age in seconds, fraying at the hems and crumbling away to dust in places, until only tatters remained.
Sevnynate stood over Tuwonyne's crippled, withered form and shook her head. "I warned you," she whispered in the silence of the chamber.
Then she stretched out a hand, waving her fingers through the rippling Inspiration like someone playing with the surface of a stream. The light rushed into the Chief's illuminated skin, increasing its brightness until it hurt Forsephore to look upon her. Sevnynate sucked in a breath, and her eyes went wide with ecstasy in the rushing influx of Inspiration. Then her cold demeanor settled back on her face and she turned her gaze to the crowd.
"This," she said, gesturing toward Tuwonyne, now a Wither scrambling away from the center of the Hub. "This is why it is folly and presumption to attempt change. This is what I protect you all from, why it is best for all Echoes to understand their place, to find stability and equilibrium, to accept what is instead of thinking of what could be if only."
Glaring, Sevnynate scanned the room until she found Forsephore. "Acceptance leads to peace. And 'if only' leads to pain. Choose wisely."