Chapter 14 - Let's start over

REBECCA'S POV

I soon found out that Al's relatives are all a bunch of goofballs. Really. Must be that I'm not really used to people, and less than less am I used to them being so kind with me, but I was really taken off guard.

They were all so happy to talk to me, that I had no idea where to turn first, everybody seemed to seek me, and I soon understood why when I heard Helena – Mrs. Barrow, she demanded I call her that – loudly mentioning my name when speaking French with her sister-in-law. I didn't understand what she was saying, but if I had to judge by her enthusiastic tone, I'd say she's convinced her beloved son has finally settled down...2

The neighbors were a bit more ... ordinary, while the friends where average. All in all, I was having much fun.

The Simards – Helena's family – weren't that many, but enough to confuse me: let alone the various relatives, but aside from Helena, her parents had two sons and one other daughter, all of them were married, of course, all of them with kids.

In particular, Al's youngest cousins took me in as their favorite playmate, so I spent a quarter of my time there playing with a 3-years-old and a 5-years-old – both girls – and there was also a little boy, who was 7, but he soon jogged away to grab a hold of his favorite cousin – Al, of course – so I was left with the two princesses. They were just so adorable, especially the youngest one, and for a while we took our corner of the place and played. I left them when they started yawning and their moms came to take them for a nap.

As for Mr. Barrow's family, there was nobody, sadly. It's obvious that, having had to change name, he had to break contacts with them as well, although, Al kinda let me perceive that his father came here mostly because the relationship with his family wasn't all that great since his father died and he fought with his sister over the inheritance.

Mr. Barrow was barely 18 when he came to live in the USA, he was welcomed by a far uncle of his that, sadly, passed away a few years ago. So ... well, he's got no family left aside from the one he created here.

The Simards welcomed him in as their own, either way, therefore he feels no nostalgia. Besides, he's a goofball of his own, just like his son, so he's easy to laugh, other than wallow in misery.

Either way, there were a lot of people at this barbecue, because the Barrows held great friendships with all of their neighbors and some colleagues, and they all brought their families, so you can imagine what a mess that was.

The teenagers obviously stuck to themselves, the adults barely entered the pool, there were also people my age or around it, four of them were Al's cousins, some others belonged to the either neighbors or friends, in any case I was too busy mingling with the family to meet the others.

Like I said, I was pulled here and there, it looked like Al's relatives were all eager to meet me. I guess Helena spread voice about Al bringing "the famous Rebecca" at this reunion. Each of them I was introduced to called me that, and it's obvious why: Al tells his mom, his mom tells the whole world. She's a very talkative person.

Now, because I didn't know about a pool – where the barbecue was being hosted – I didn't bring anything that would be good for it, so I only wore denim shorts and a striped tank top, along with flats, so I had to refuse every single offer I got to take a bath, lying about not knowing how to swim, which I guess was embarrassing at my age, but better than saying 'I really would, but I'd have to bathe naked, and there are too many kids here'. In truth, bikini or underwear, the difference really isn't that big, but still.

Besides, I was at a family reunion, I ought to behave impeccably. The pool was pretty crowded anyway, with kids and teenagers and even a German Sheppard – the Barrow's dog, who I met this morning, his name is Buck, and he's been Al's best friend ever since he entered elementary school.

The funny fact is that there were also two people that bore a striking resemblance to one of my roommates, Helena absentmindedly introduced me to them ... they were none other than Patricia and Carlton Wayne, Byron's parents. I could tell that Bye took his grumpy attitude from his dad, but, just like his son, Mr. Wayne was also that only on the surface.

His mom,however,she's a whole different thing...I had to strive a little to have her talk to me without wrinkling her nose. When she found out I live with her son,she was outraged, and stormed off quite mad...ten minutes later I got a text from Byron,apologizing for anything his mom might say to me.

He said she is a really tough and strict woman, with strong religious beliefs,so he never told her about this female roommate of his because he knew she wouldn't agree...a girl living alone with three guys? Not at all appropriate for her. I wonder what she'd think if she knew I'm alternatively sleeping with each of them...3

Byron's sisters were here too, just the two youngest, the one that is my age is in Los Angeles, studying at Caltech. I didn't have a chance to talk to them, seeing as they were busy with their friends, but they seemed nice, they're both still in high school, but one of them will be graduating next year.

You know, I would have thought that, knowing I was a single girl living with three straight guys, would have caused some sort of shock, but aside from Byron's mom, none of my friends' parents blinked, they were just happy there would be a female touch in that apartment, as Helena said.

I'll admit that, after having met the Barrows and the Waynes, I was kinda eager to meet the Fosters as well, just to have an idea of what kind of people raised that kind of asshole that is Will, but none of them showed up. Pity.

I'd been grabbing soda from the kitchen – under Helena's request – when I felt toned arms around my waist from behind, and a very wet hard body against me, which had me squeal in surprise, because I could feel water all over my clothes now.

"Alan!" I reproached, turning around to slap his chest, but he only laughed. He was wearing only trunks, which were dripping wet, as much as his whole body, hair included, clear sign he'd just come out of the pool.

"Now I've got the form of your front stamped on my behind! What do you think people out there are gonna presume?" I whined, actually worried about them thinking we'd just had a quickie in here. It was already hard to stick into all those heads that Al and I are just friends and roommates, not a couple – and trust me, with the way Helena beamed every time she mentioned me, it was pretty hard – now all my efforts would be in vain.

But of course, Al couldn't care less. He merely sent me a one of his mischievously sexy grins, and pulled me into him, wrapping his arms around my waist to press me against him – obviously drenching my front as well now – before giving me a deep kiss that had me back up against the sink, for how intense it was.

I couldn't help but respond, I'm guilty. Yet Al ceased pretty soon, moving his lips to my neck as he nibbled on it.

I let him do for a few moments, but then I had to point out: "There are at least 40 people out there, Ally. Kids included."

"So what?" He asked without ceasing, letting his hands roam over my body.

I sighed, hating to have to push him away, but it was necessary. "So ... we can't give a peep show."

He pouted, actually looking pretty cute, so I smiled and went closer, kissing the corner of his lips as I mentioned: "Maybe ... after everybody's gone ... we can hit the pool solo ... you can teach me to swim even though I forgot my bikini..." I giggled when I heard him groan as I walked away, sodas in my arms.

Mr. Barrow came to relieve me from the sodas, smiling thankfully at me, and sauntered to his wife, I remained there standing, watching all those people having fun, some of them were in the pool swimming, some others were tanning – because the ceiling was made of glass, and it was open to have the sun rays filter –, some others were just chatting around, eating and drinking.

Helena told me that in a few hours everything would be over, and they would head to a close restaurant with the family, for dinner. I kinda blushed when she implied Al and I could remain here if we preferred, it was something for adults, she said, I argued that then we would be needed to babysit the kids, but she grinned, saying nothing. I just hope she didn't hear me screaming her son's name last night ... but maybe that's why she's more convinced we're more than just friends.

As I was standing there, Al reached me, and I should have pushed him off when he came to wrap his arm around my waist, but the way he placed a wet kiss on my cheek made me giggle. I quickly wiggled out of his grip when I noticed the grin plastered on his mother's face when she turned to us, and how his aunts and uncle turned to us as well.

"Don't give them strange ideas." I chastised, crossing my arms, though not really resented. Al chuckled and, obviously – because he always listens to what I say – just pulled me into him again, placing another kiss on my cheek. Cue the 'awwws' coming from our spectators.

"Al ..."

"Relax, Becks. We're just playing." Are we? Because it seems to me, he likes to have his family think I'm his girlfriend.

"Yeah, but –"

"You know I can't keep my hands off you, babe. It's already hard to retain myself from touching more than this, not to mention kiss you right now" His voice dropped a few tones as he huskily whispered that in my ear, his hand on my hip, his lips barely touching my earlobe. Damn him, I was getting hot. Now I wasn't really able to escape, and his mother and relatives' eyes were on us.

Lucky thing a voice came to interrupt us. I turned around swiftly and thankfully, only to be met by the sight of a beautiful dark skinned, dark haired girl that was my height more or less, a blinding smile on her plump lips, dark brown eyes that could ensnare any man. She wore my same outfit, except her denim shorts hung slightly lower to her thighs, were ripped, and she wore a larger shirt that covered her bikini underneath. Damn, she was breathtaking. And I only got one glance at her.

The moment Al saw her,his eyes widened, and a wide grin spread all over his face. "Maya-Bear!" He called, excited. He forgot entirely about me,and welcomed the girl that gleefully jumped in his arms, as if they hadn't seen each other in eons.2

I remained there, a little awkwardly, as they hugged, till she broke it off, giving him a fake dirty look as she placed a hand on her hip, seemingly mad: "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

He grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "Well ... Maya-Bear ... we haven't exactly been much in touch these years ..."

She rolled her eyes. "I always told you I didn't want to lose your friendship too, Nala." She wanted to sound reproaching, but kinda failed. I wonder what is the thing that happened and had them part.

Her dark brown eyes turned to me, and she smiled warmly, stretching her hand to shake mine. "Hi, I'm Maya. I don't think we've been introduced."

I smiled at her, too, and shook her hand. "I'm Rebecca."

She nodded, then looked in between me and Al, crossing her arms. "If she's here, I suppose it's serious. What happened to the old Alan?"

I blushed a little, clearing my throat. "Um...no,we're not...we're just friends." Friends that fuck now and then,but,no more than that. I'm honestly getting tired of repeating it.

She turned to Al for a confirm, which he gave, but didn't seem particularly sure of it.

"Weren't you in New York?" He asked, I bet to escape my questioning gaze.

She sighed, slumping her shoulders. "Yeah, I was, and I'll be back next week. I'm kinda –"

"Getting married?"

I frowned as Al cut her off, while her dark brown eyes widened. "How do you –"

"Come on, Maya ... you're marrying his boss, you think he wouldn't get to know?" She sighed, lowering her gaze. I was confused. What did he – oh, wait. Maya. The name sounds familiar.

"Wait, you're Byron's Maya?!" I nearly screamed.

She looked up to meet my eyes, half flustered, half surprised. "You know him?"

"Yeah, of course, we li-"

"We all hang out together." Al cut me off. I turned to him, furrowing my eyebrows. He gave me a sheepish grin while with his eyes he hinted at Maya, I guess meaning for me to comply with his lie. I wonder why.

"You hang out together." She repeated in disbelief, catching our attention back.

I mimicked her by crossing my arms, sighing ... but complied, even if it was weird. "Yeah, Al introduced me to his friends, so ... yeah."

She studied me for a long moment, clearly not believing me, and her gaze was so piercing that I was on the verge of budging. Lucky thing she was called, so she left.

Al let out a sigh of relief. I turned to him, arching an eyebrow to get an explanation. He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "Becks, nothing personal, but ... well, you see, Bye is still hung up on her, and she's a very jealous and suspicious type, if he's got one chance of getting her back, her knowing that he lives with such a hot girl as you would completely blow it."

I pondered over it for a moment, actually confused, then turned to look at Maya, who was talking to some girls I recognized as some of the neighbors. I remember Byron told me about his ex, how he loved her but she was getting married. Well, he didn't quite say he was still in love with her, but he was upset by the news, he said it should have been him to marry her, so yeah, it's safe to say he's indeed still in love with her, Al is right.

"Isn't she getting married?" I asked, just for a confirm, turning to my friend. He sighed, nodding. "So what would change if they got back in touch?"

"I have no idea. The break up was pretty final."

I bit my lip, wondering. We ought to do something to help Byron. Judgin by the way Maya reacted when I mentioned him, she surely still thinks of him, too, maybe we need to have them meet and talk ... mmh ... considering how their story ended, that wouldn't be a great idea, they might wind up fighting, and that would only make things worse.

"How about you get back in touch with her?" I proposed. "I mean, you guys meet for lunch or things like that, and you talk, then ... maybe you pitch the idea of her coming over and –"

"She knows I live with Byron, she'll never come, not to see her ex."

"Yeah, but you'll tell her he's not there. Say he's doing a lot of overtime or is out for a trip or something of the sort."

Al arched an eyebrow at me, so I explained my mastermind plan: he would be luring Maya to our place, convincing her to just come hang out with her old friend, maybe tell her I would be there too and would be glad to know her a little more ... she'd be convinced she's only been invited to hang out with us, just a small get together, but ... what she wouldn't know, is that Byron would obviously be there, we'd have them meet when he's coming back home from work maybe, or, if it were weekend, when he's back from the gym or wherever. In a word, we'd trick them into meeting.

Maybe it would be awkward at first, but we would leave them alone, so that they could talk, and maybe catch up. I think only a meeting would be sufficient for them to realize they're still in love with each other, then we'll think of what to do next.

By the time I ended my speech, Al was gaping at me with an amused smirk on his lips. "Damn, Becks, you're a born Cupid!"

I laughed. "Am I? Then maybe I can find a match for you too ..." I turned around, scanning the place, to locate the girls that looked more or less my age or his, between 20 and 25, more or less.

Right when my eyes landed on a gorgeous Asian brunette that could be perfect for him, Al responded with a snort: "That's gonna prove impossible, babe. I'm no relationship material."

I rolled my eyes, turning to him. "Well, your mom says she wants grandchildren at some point."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Babe, she was indirectly telling you to give her grandkids."

I frowned for a moment, puzzled, but then it hit me ... and I hit him in the shoulder, of course, out of spite, giving him a dirty look. I should have figured, all that talk about her longing for little blonde boys or brown haired little girls around her house ... of course she meant a possible child born from me and Al.

The sole thought now had me shiver, and ... kinda make a mental note about being more careful with the roughhousing. I really wouldn't want to get in trouble and consequently have to draw straws to know who's the father of my baby.

Although, if we had to count the chances, I think Jerkface would have more, be it only because of the number of times we've done it. The sole thought had me laugh.

Think of a little carbon copy of Will. The little boy would be such a cranky and always angry kid, with those dark features. He'd grow up being brooding but handsome, as much as his dad.

And a baby Al? Identical to the one in the photos Helena showed me last night, certainly, with those big green eyes and that mischievous grin of someone that's always up to no good.

Oh, and a baby Byron? I wonder how was he as a child. Certainly very cute. I saw him only as teenager, in that photo with him and the other guys, he was much less muscled, but still enough lean to catch the female eye.

Now that I recall, Will was pretty puny, with that lanky figure, his skinny frame ... he's changed a whole of a lot. Getting so hot that it should be illegal. I mean, it should be a crime for a nerd to be that much yummy, especially if he's such a fucking asshole. Al instead, he was always the same, hasn't changed much, just got more beard.

Anyways, the thought of babies being a consequence of my libertine ways was funny only if I think of how those kids would resemble whoever of the three would be their father, but ... well, in concrete, it made me kinda blurt out: "We've always used a condom, right?"

Al froze for a moment, looking at me, then burst out laughing, loudly even, so much that some people turned to us, looking at him funny. When he quieted down, he shook his head, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as he bumped our temples. "Babe ... I'm flattered you actually want me to be your baby daddy, but I think you gotta point that bony finger at someone else." I arched an eyebrow at him, and he chuckled to himself, mentioning: "Becks ... who's the roommate that's seen you more in the sheets?"

It took me a moment, but then it struck me. I pushed him off, outraged. Yet the seed of doubt remained ... I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my very small contacts list: just five numbers, namely Byron, Al, my boss at the ice cream parlor, Jackson's parents. Of course I don't have his number, we barely even talk.

Gee, and this is the guy I've been hooking up with. If I suddenly vanished from the universe, he would notice only because he wouldn't get his goodnight fuck every night. The jerk didn't even give me his number. Well, I didn't ask either, but still, the other guys gave it to me willingly, Byron pointing out it was to be sure I would have someone to call if I needed. So cute, I know.

Sighing, I stretched my hand and ordered: "Give me your phone."

Al frowned, so I repeated myself, he asked why, I just repeated myself. With a sigh, he handed his I-Phone over to me, then shrugged and claimed he'd be taking another bath. I nodded without even really listening, in fact I barely heard him warn me not to snoop around too much. It was tempting, especially given his warning, but I let it slide.

Just scrolled through his contacts and texted one in particular:

We've always used a protection, right?

The answer didn't come very soon, it took a total of 15 minutes, I had time to consider if I was wrong, count the days left till my next period, if it was ever late ever since I went to live with the guys, I tried to recall if I took my birth control every day or not ... and finally the answer came:

W: what?

I glared at the phone. Seriously? Fifteen whole minutes to ask what? Rolling my eyes, I pointed out:

Sex, you moron. We've always used a condom, right?

This time the reply was quicker:

W: Buddy, I think I'd recall if I let you fuck my ass. It would burn like hell, you know.

I'll admit it made me chuckle, but then I recalled I was using Al's phone, so, obviously, Will thought he was talking to his friend.

It's Rebecca

W: yeah, I figured

Then why did you say that?

W: I just didn't want to talk to you. What the hell do you want?

Gee, I can picture your growl from here

W: Good, then quit annoying me

I gritted my teeth. That jerk. I really don't miss having to see his face.

I only asked you a question, you jerk

W: Why? You forgot to take the pill? Sorry, hun, I'm not taking responsibility for your mistakes.

I glared at the phone, feeling the need to throw it into the pool or smash it. I didn't only because it was an expensive I-Phone and I wouldn't have known how to repay Al.

But, let's go back to Jerkface and his lack of moral.

So you're saying you'd leave a girl to herself while she's carrying your child?

W: I'm saying I'd leave YOU. Mostly because I wouldn't be sure it's mine.

I swear, he does it on purpose. He purposely wants me to hate him, for who knows what sick reason. Otherwise I couldn't explain why is he always such a jackass with me. I looked up to watch Al swimming back and forth, playing with his cousins, just so I recalled this was his phone and I shouldn't crush it out of fury.

I swear, William Foster is the one person able to pull on my every single nerve. Not even my sisters or my mother make me this mad. And I hate them with all myself, mind you.

You're the one I've been with more often, so the chances are, it would most probably be yours

W: Oh, so you can count now?

Yeah, I can count up to how many times I'll kick your ass

W: And you should be a lady?

You're an annoying prick, you know that?

W: And you're a pretentious bitch, you know that?

I just asked you a fucking question!!!

W: And the answer is fucking YES! THANK GOD!

I swear, I heard the crack of the I-Phone as I went close to crushing it, and of my jaw as I clenched it. That jackass. I wonder why the hell do I even try to talk to him!

I hate you, Will

W: Good. I hate you, too, Rebecca.

The question is why

W: Because you annoy the fuck out of me. Now, are we done? I've got things to do, other than waste my time texting a bitch.

Go fuck yourself, William. I hope you choke on your dinner.

W: I hope you choke on the cum you swallow.

You better avoid me when I come back, if you don't want to be castrated.

W: As if you'd have the guts

Try me.

W: You're only a stuck up bitch pretending to be a badass. You've probably had your rich daddy spoiling you since you were born while your mom fucked her personal trainer.

You son of a bitch, I never even knew my dad! And my mother is a conniving bitch that beat the crap out of me for every single word I spoke ever since I was a child!5

Silence. I didn't mean to type that. Neither send it. I just got furious and couldn't control my fingers. It was as if the world around me had disappeared all of a sudden, I could barely hear people having fun while I stood there, phone in hand, staring at the words I'd just typed.

I just told my story to a fucking jerk that doesn't even give a damn. And the worst is, now I gotta see his moronic face with the awareness that he knows something nobody else knows.

I felt weak, my knees wouldn't hold me up anymore, but because I couldn't just faint in the middle of all those people, I headed back into the house, deciding I would go lay down a little, just to calm down.

There was fury in my system, at myself more than at Jerkface, because I just told him something so private I never even recounted anyone except for one person. Hell, only Tom knew about it. He's the only one person I've ever talked about this to.

Of the times my mother would beat me up even only because I asked for dinner. Of the times she sent me to sleep without having eaten a single thing all day. Of the times she purposely left me out of the house when it was raining. Of the times she had me starve, just for fun.

And when her new husband came along? Such a sweet man. He thought it was a cute thing to throw things at me. I improved my reflexes only to dodge every object he threw at me, after having risked a concussion every time.

And my sisters? Oh, my delightful sisters. They're only one year older than I, I think not even same father we have, because I was the result of a one-night-stand, my mother didn't even try to contact him, and of course, she never even told me anything about him.

My sisters had fun tormenting me. They bullied me in school, with the help of their friends, made of me the most hated kid. I always made sure Tom would never see the marks of the beatings I got, mostly from my sisters and their boyfriends.

Once I was back in the room, I crawled on bed, and burst out crying out of nervousness. It was a mix of emotions, truly, starting from anger at myself for having told my truth to that jackass who won't even blink at it, but also anger at my family for being what they are. This weekend I've seen how a real, loving family looks like, something I've never had and never will.

I cried and cried, feeling weak at the sole memory of what they did to me. I've grown stronger with Tom beside me, but now I once again felt like a tiny ant they stomped over. And they have. Trust me, they literally have, breaking my arm when I was seven.

I've never understood why did they hate me so much, but they did and they still do, I'm just glad I'm away from them, but then I'm reminded of all that, and I feel crushed. Sometimes I think I'm truly not as strong as I think I am.

Maybe in this Will is right, I pretend to be what I'm not. But that's the only way I know that helps me survive. Because, as a matter of fact, I am indeed,only, a survivor.

***

WILL'S POV

I stared at my phone in utter shock. The times I've felt this ashamed of myself are pretty much down to no one, but this time was different. I reversed all that hatred on her, and in one sentence she resumed what Hell she's lived. I thought her troubles were only about her boyfriend that died or something. I didn't think she had been ... fuck. I was such an asshole.3

Out of instinct, I dialed Al's number, hoping she would still have his phone, but it kept ringing and ringing, no one replied. I tried and tried and tried. Only the fifth time I got something, but she just picked up, then hung up without a word. I tried more times, and, finally, at the twelfth time, someone answered: "What?!"

I sighed, gathering the words as I lay back on my bed. "I'm sorry." That's all I said. There was utter silence from the other side, so much that I thought she'd hung up, yet she was still there, I could hear her breathing through the phone.

I knew that if she spoke, she would tell me to go fuck myself and she'd hang up, so I prevented her: "I'm sorry, Rebecca, okay? I ... didn't know you had been ... I just had no idea –"

"Do not fucking pity me."

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I'm not. I'm just trying to apologize, okay? Just take the damn apologies and shut up."

Alright, maybe that wasn't the best way, but she got silent, so at least I reached my purpose. Sighing, I rubbed the bridge of my nose. I must be insane, why do I even want to do this? Just to be even with her? So what? Don't I hate her? Yes, of course I do ... I think.

She's everything that reminds me of Mel, right? They act the same. They're both so careless, so indifferent to their surroundings. I mean, Mel cheated on me with the whole world, without a fucking care. Rebecca just fucked my best friend while I was on the other side of the wall, hearing everything.

That night made me sick to my gut, I swear. I could hear every single moan of hers, and it felt like a fucking punch in the stomach for some stupid reason. It felt like reliving the moment when I entered upon my girlfriend screwing her cousin. And it's insane, but that's the way it is.

I hate Rebecca, because she reminds me so much of Mel, and I can't take it. And the fact that I'm so attracted to her angers me,I'm mad at myself because I shouldn't even spare her a glance,I should have learnt the first time, yet in a way,my thoughts convey to her. Ugh.

Sighing once more, I blurted it all out at once: "I know what it feels like to grow up in a shitty family. I had no idea you'd lived that. I'm sorry I spat sentences when I didn't know what I was talking about."

I think that's one of the longest sentences I've ever spoken to her without insulting her. And it was the utter truth. I know what it feels like to grow up in a fucked up family, where your father is barely ever there, and when he is, he's drunk off his ass, your brothers treat you like you're shit beneath their shoes, and your mothers cries her heart out every night, forgetting that your fucking room is just on the other side, so you can hear her sob.

Rebecca heaved a shaky sigh, and I cursed myself because I could clearly sense she'd been crying for my fault. Why do I do this? Why do I have to be such a jackass? I don't even know it. I just can't retain myself.

Maybe I just push this new lead I'm on now, needing to change, maybe it's because she plays on delicate strings, reminding me of Mel, or maybe it's just easy to be an asshole with her, because I probably get a sick arousal when I see her that mad at me.

Either way, I'm sick of it, yet I can't help it. Especially because, I know myself, if I lower my guard even one moment, I'm gonna wind up feeling guilty for what we do, therefore I might care about her, and that's the last thing I could ever want.

"You know what it feels like to have your mother spit into your face that she'd rather you'd never been born? You know what it's like to have your own sisters bully you just because you dare breathe? I don't think so."

Fuck. Did she have to put it that way? I didn't even wanna hear her story, yet I wanted to. How sick were those people? No wonder she does never even mention her family. I've never expected this. I expected an empty shell, a shallow bitch that cared about herself only. I didn't expect a fragile girl coming from a past of hurt. From her own family even.

Sighing, I covered my eyes with my arm. "I know what it's like to have your brothers treat you like garbage just because you were never even supposed to be born. And I know what it's like to have a father that doesn't even remember a single thing about you, because he's too busy with his other women or alcohol. And hell, I know what it means to be bullied, too, Rebecca. So yeah, I can understand."

Sadly. I wouldn't want this level of empathy, but I can't deny it's a bit refreshing to be able to talk about it with someone, be it even someone I hate. Well, let's say dislike, hate is a big word.

She was silent for the longest time, and I should have just hung up, but I remained there waiting, pathetically.

Tonight I was free, I could have gone out, I've got no more finals to study for, it's a weekend, I could just have fun, but I didn't feel like it. I felt a heavy load on my stomach, this whole week I have, and the peak was the confrontation with my best friend. We took advantage of being all alone at home to finally have a showdown after a whole week of ignoring each other.

Byron apologized for the nth time about Mel, I apologized for overreacting. We wound up talking about Rebecca. He told me he's very fond of her, but nothing more, aside from attraction. Al is the one head over heels for her.

Byron asked me why did it bother me so much that Rebecca slept with him. I couldn't give an answer. So I just walked off. Immature, I know. But I don't have the slightest idea why did it irk me so much that she screwed my best friend. I can't really give a real reason.

"I'm sorry." She murmured after a while.

I sighed. "I am. I've been a complete and utter asshole with you."

She half chuckled, and my lips quirked up in a tiny smile for some idiotic reason. Silence reigned once more and for some reason I needed to fill it in some way, but most of all, my tongue itched to say something stupid.

Like ... I've kinda felt your absence these days.

"Will, can we be friends?" Rebecca asked me. I closed my eyes, wondering if that could be possible, and I smirked when she mentioned we could be friends with benefits, if anything, but mostly, she wanted to try and get along with me, be it only because we live together, and the fact that we hate each other kinda reverberates on the other two as well, in the sense that they will have to pick a side, and she doesn't want to ruin my friendship with the guys. I'll admit it was a nice thought.

I think we should start over. From the very beginning. So that we can build up a friendship from the ashes of the loathe we had against each other. I can't promise we won't fight ever again, but I can try and be less of an asshole with her.

She mentioned I could start from hanging out with her and the guys more often, so that we can be a real family for each other, even though I think me and her are the only ones that really need it, given the disasters on our backs.

"Rebecca, let's start over, okay? I'm Will Foster. Your roommate."

She giggled, the sound being weirdly pleasant to my ears. "I'm Rebecca Henson. Nice to meet you, Will."

I smiled, truly, maybe for the first time in months. I guess we can do this. We can be friends without wanting to tear each other apart.