Forever the Fighter

14. Beckham

Beckham to the side ------>

Dark side- Kelly Clarkson 

Weight of Living (pt. 1) - Bastille 

"What are you doing here? How did you recognize me? Where's Beckham?" I burst out with a handful of questions.

"No one has purple eyes but you. You got prettier Scarlett. Like a lot. Too bad Beckham hates you. And I live here with Beckham and Mom," he told me. He was around 8 or 9, close to Ace's age. They were friends back in Asotin.

"Why does Beckham hate me?" I asked him. He looked at me in disbelief.

"You were like the best thing that ever happened to him and you left. He cried over it for months." he scoffed. He talked like he was older than he was. He was always a very advanced child honestly.

"Where is he?" I asked Tate. It was obvious Tate still held a grudge against me, but I set it off. I did leave without warning.

"Out with his girlfriend," he smirked at me. Oh this kid was aggravating me.

"Okay, you wanna know why I left, Tate?" I asked him. He nodded his head. I picked him up and started to skateboard to a park. He struggled, but I held him tight, so I wouldn't fall off. I got there quickly, then set him down. He glared at me. I ruffled his head. "Okay, so I'm actually gonna tell you why I left. Because my dad died, and my mom died, so I had to go live with my uncle, in CALIFORNIA. I couldn't live in Washington anymore Tate," I told him. He stared at me without responding.

"Why didn't you tell Beckham you were leaving?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Tate, I'm not a good person. I'll never be one. I always knew that Beckham deserved better. I thought I would grow up to deserve him. I don't. I don't deserve him at all. I don't think I'm the girl for him. I loved him, but I needed to let him go. Look at these tattoos Tate. Do I look like a good person?" I asked him. He started tearing up slightly.

"I wanted you to end up with Beckham, Scarlett. You're better than all his stupid girlfriends. You treated me nice, and not like a baby. I miss you Scarlett," he cried into my arms. I hugged his fragile body.

"It's okay Tate. I just can't come into your life again. I'll bring trouble. Don't tell Beckham you've found me, okay? I need to stay out of his life." I told him. He stayed sobbing softly. "Tate?" He looked up at me and nodded. I felt a feeling of relief, yet guilt.

"Hey, I'll get a tattoo for you. What do you want to represent yourself on me?" I asked him.

"Where do you have tattoos?" he asked me.

"My arm, wrist, shoulder, and back," I told him.

"Get a racecar?" he asked me. I chuckled. "How about a bird?" I told him. He nodded happily. I'll put it on the back with the other birds representing people important to me. "Does he still remember me?" I asked him. Tate looked at me.

"I don't think he remembers you," Tate began. My heart sank a little, "But he remembers the memories. He still has a picture of you from 8th grade. Of course, you look totally different now, so he probably won't reconize you. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw some people head over to us. It was a tall, fit guy with spiky dirty blonde hair, and gorgeous grey eyes. I gasped. It was Beckham. He had a few tattoos down his arm, and earrings. The girl next to him was fairly pretty, with brown eyes, and blonde, highlighted hair. She was dressed in a high waisted top and a red crop top. "I don't like her," Tate whispers to me. I chuckle.

"Hey, who are you? What are you doing with my brother?" Beckham asked slightly angrily. I stood up.

"Later Tate," And I skated away. Tate waved me goodbye, and I flew away to the skatepark as fast as lightning. I saw the half pipe, and grinned to myself. Time to wash my worries away.