Reaching for Rebecca

Chapter 6

REBECCA

Thankfully, Kirk's car isn't in the driveway when I get home. I can't begin to imagine what would have happened if he saw anybody dropping me off, especially a guy.

I rush inside and start making snicker doodle cookies as I contemplate how much of an idiot I am for agreeing to see Ryan tomorrow. I'll really have to get in Kirk's good graces for him to let me out on a Saturday, so I start the simplest way I know: baking his favorite cookies.

After making three dozen of the cinnamon-covered treats, I clean up the kitchen and throw in a load of Kirk's laundry. I haven't vacuumed since move in day last week, so I decided to do that as well, even though it proves to be quite difficult with my recently injured ribs. Then, I begin dinner while my phone blares cliche princess songs on Pandora.

Kirk strides through the door just as I'm pulling dinner out of the oven.

"What the hell's gotten into you?" he asks with venom in his voice.

"I didn't have much homework so I figured I would get some cleaning done."

I'm impressed as that was the fastest I have ever come up with a somewhat believable lie.

Kirk takes a seat at the table and pours himself some milk as I put a plate down in front of him. We eat in absolute silence until he's full and I begin clearing the table.

"I made you some cookies," I mention politely before bringing the tray over.

He grabs some on the way to the living room and as soon as I hear the television flip on, I hurriedly load the dishwasher and sneak upstairs to my room. I'm incredibly thankful for how smooth dinner went.

I toss my hair into a bun and work on the homework from the few days I've missed school. When Kirk came home on Tuesday, he was a little more stressed out than usual and took it out on me. My mind flashes back to the moment when he wrestled me to the ground while his foot collided with my ribs repeatedly. I couldn't walk right all day on Wednesday and Thursday was still kind of awkward so I chose to stay home to avoid the suspicion that would have stemmed from my 'hobble.'

I'm interrupted from my horrible trip down memory lane when my phone buzzes.

|Becca Hanson > Landon - 7:13pm|
Received: Hey Becca, I just wanted to check how you're doing.

Landon is such a sweetheart, but you wouldn't know it by looking at him. I thought he was good looking when I first saw him but in a bad boy way. His short, black hair matched his black eyes. His jaw-line was unbelievably chiseled and his knuckles were always bruised or cut up. It was obvious that he was built judging by the way his black shirts pulled tight across his back, not to mention how his legs looked so muscular that they could barely fit in his dark jeans.

|Becca Hanson > Landon - 7:24pm|
Sent: I'm good now. Ryan brought me home.
Received: I'm sure you already know this, but he's a really great guy. He would never hurt you purposefully - he's a mess just thinking about today.
Sent: I know he wouldn't and I already told him it wasn't his fault :( I will talk to him.
Sent: And thanks for looking out for me today Landon.
Received: I always will. If you need anything let me know. Have a nice night Becca.

I didn't answer him, assuming that was the end of the conversation.

I'm immediately disheartened by the thought of Ryan being upset over something he didn't even cause, so I text him right away.

|Becca Hanson > Ryan - 7:25pm|
Sent: Hey Ryan, can we talk about today?

He answers almost immediately.