Leap of Faith

Chapter Nine

Rebecca

"What do you mean, 'flamingo power'?" I asked incredulously as Mason strolled along beside me.

"It's like Black Power, you know? Flamingos are such overly mocked birds - they should start rioting."

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "What would they get out of it? Voting rights?"

"Hey, who knows. Maybe they'll amend the Voting Rights Act of 1965 to include Flamingos," he said nonchalantly, as if we weren't discussing the civil rights of a pink bird.

"They should amend the Constitution as well," I stated and he laughed heartily.

"Yes. I think I'm going to write a letter the governor."

"A letter? Why not an email?"

"Because! A letter is more significant."

"If you say so."

Originally, the five of us had planned to see a movie and get lunch together, but Matt and Finn bailed at the last second because they're cousins birthday part was today, and Shannon threw out a lame excuse as soon as I told her the twins weren't coming.

I looked over at Mason now, amazed at how much he had opened up to me since that first day. We hadn't even known each other that long, yet we had that connection between us, a current, spiraling back and forth. I never made friends this quickly - never willingly shared pieces of myself, yet with Mason it had come naturally, as if it were meant to happen.

"Lets get ice cream," he suggested, pulling me towards the Ben n' Jerry's.
He looped his arm through mine and held the door open for me. Slipping past him, I sidled up to the counter.

"Double Chocolate Chip three scoop cup please!" I said and the glum looking guy behind the counter filled up a pink cup.

"Geez, you ordered before I even got inside!"

"I like ice cream," I responded with a shrug. Mason looked down at me, his hair tousled and the neck of his shirt off kilter, exposing a pale collar bone.

"You lived in Jersey, right? Why aren't you crazy tan?" I asked and he rolled his eyes as he ordered his own ice cream.

"Hate to break it to you, but all those stereotypes that revolve around Snookie are false. We don't all live on the beach."

"Alright, alright," I said, shoveling the sugary goodness into my mouth. "I concede."

"Good."

He payed for the ice cream and we headed back outside.

"Thank you," I said, meaning it, truthfully, in more ways than one.

He shrugged. "No problem."

It was strange how such an insignificant exchange of words could imply so much. How just with the look in Masons eyes I could understand what he was trying to convey.

And it was startling - understanding someone the way you could understand yourself. It was unusual and beautiful and special and I didn't know how to deal with it.

Mason

I looked over at Becca as she ate her ice cream slowly, observing the things and people around her slowly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking down at the floor before flickering her eyes over at me.

I quickly yanked my gaze back and she smirked.

"See something you like?" she asked and I grinned.

"Of course," I started and she blushed, "Your ice cream looks pretty good." Before she could object, I reached over and shoved my spoon into her cup.

"You jerk!" she cried before ducking under my arm to steal some of my own. I laughed, pushing her away and soon we were engaged in an all out battle over the ice cream.

We laughed and laughed until my stomach clenched in protest. I couldn't remember the last time I had been so happy, so carefree. But it was startling at the same time, because I knew the happier I became, here in this town, with Becca, the harder it would be to leave.

And it registered in my mind, briefly, that if leaving this place hurt me, I might even leave a wake of destruction in my path. Because if I got involved here, then when I packed up and left I'd be taking Becca's heart with me. And hurting her wasn't in my plan. None of this was.

Rebecca

The next morning when I woke up, Seth was leaning over my bed, staring at me.

"What the hell? Get away, creeper!"

He grinned fiendishly at me, his hair flopping over into his eyes. "Becca, guess what?"

I groaned. "What?"

"Mom made pancakes."

"What?"

"I know!! Come and look." I crawled out of bed and crept out of my room, following Seth down the hallway. Sure enough, as I stuck my head around the corner, Mom was standing by the stove in sweats with a bowl of batter next to her and a spatula in her hand.

You're probably wondering why this is such a rare occurrence. Well, it's because of this:

Mom hadn't made pancakes since Dad died, because they reminded her too much of him and the way he would made oddly shaped ones for us. I remembered the day Seth attempted to make pancakes without telling Mom, and she nearly had a panic attack. She'd stormed into the kitchen and practically thrown the bowl of batter into the sink, screaming at Seth all the while. I had only been nine, but even as I hid behind the dining table watching, I knew that Mom would never be the same. Dad's death had left her broken in a way that neither Seth nor I could fix.

"Mom...?" I started, and she whipped around, smiling at me.

"Hey guys! Are you hungry? I made -"

"Pancakes," I stated. "You're making pancakes. Any reason why?"

She shrugged. "Why let a bad thing ruin a good one?" She tried and I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, sure. What's the real reason?"

She looked at Seth nervously, then, back at me. She fiddled with the spatula for a minute, flipping the pancake a couple times. "I'm dating someone," she forced out, and I reered back.

"What?" I spat, and she looked at me guiltily.

"Sweetheart, you know I will always love your father, with all my heart but -"

"But what!? True love is supposed to last, Mom. You can't just replace Dad!"

"I'm not replacing him, Rebecca! Can you honestly expect me to be alone for the rest of my life? I'm lonely!"

I spun on my heel to face Seth, who was leaning against the fridge. "Why aren't you saying anything?"

"Uh..."

"He already knew, Bex," Mom muttered.

"Wait a minute. Just how long have you been seeing people?"

She froze. "A couple months," she said finally and I gaped at her.

"Months," I murmured. "For months you've been lying to me. All those nights you weren't home. You were out with - with whoever."

"Becca -"

"Don't. I'll be in my room."