Becca by Dean Krystek Page B

cleared his
throat and started to speak, but Becca would not let him. “You’re so good at
making up stories, what story did you tell them? Did he tell you— Dad— that
we’re not salt and pepper?”
    “What?”
    “That we weren’t apple
pie and ice cream?”
    “Becky, what are you
saying?” Bill demanded.
    “We’re not a good couple,
that’s what I’m saying.’
    “You’re a perfect couple.”
    “We’re not a real couple, Dad. We’re not a match .”
    “Becky,” Greg touched her
hand.
    “You lied , Greg. We’ve never had sex. Have we?”
    Greg blushed. “We need to
talk.”
    “We are talking.” She
turned her attention to her father. “You asked me tonight if I used protection
and you accused me of making him lose focus. You didn’t believe me when I told
you we hadn’t done anything. Now you ask Greg. Ask him and see what he
says with me here, face to face.”
    Bill said, “You’re
talking gibberish, Becky.”
    “Don’t wait for him to
ask you, Greg. Tell him!”
    Greg sighed. “She’s
right.”
    “You don’t have to lie
for her, Greg,” Bill said.
    “I’m not lying for her.”
    “You told your father you
and my daughter had been together.”
    He nodded. “Yes, I said
that.”
    “Well, were you
together? Did you have sex with her?”
    “No, sir.” His face
reddened and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Becky.”
    “Why would you lie about something like that, son?” Bill demanded.
    Greg’s eyes never left Becca’s
eyes. She wanted to speak, but she could not. The look on Greg’s face stopped
her.
    “So that’s why you ran
out,” Mary said. “You knew the truth. You were upset. You had a right—Bill, she
was upset because you called her a liar.”
    Bill said, “Greg, I think
you had better go home.”
    “Yessir. Becky, can we
talk?”
    “Greg, you should leave now ,”
Bill said.
    “Please, Mr. Smith. A
couple of minutes? Becky?”
    “All right,” Becca said.
    They walked to his car.
    “I’m sorry . I…didn’t
think my father would tell your father what I had said.”
    “Why did you lie ?”
    “Why do you think? ”
    “Because you don’t find
me attractive, Greg. Because you don’t find any girl attractive.”
    He rubbed his eyes, as if
to keep from crying. He did not look at her. “I want to.”
    “But you don’t. You
can’t.”
    He shrugged. “How long
have you known?”
    She leaned against the
Chrysler. “It’s been in the back of mind since the prom and you and I ended up alone
in your house while your parents were out of town. Remember that? We had some
wine and we were really getting hot and heavy, and you just stopped. I wanted
to believe it was the alcohol, Greg. I wanted to. But I wasn’t
upset—remember?—because I would have regretted doing it. And I realized later
that the reason you didn’t do anything , wasn’t because of the
alcohol, but because you…because you couldn’t.
    “A girl senses things,
and after that I kind of knew, but I didn’t say anything because…well, because
I liked being around you. Then Josh said he didn’t think we made a good couple
and I thought about us…and he’s right. And I knew why we didn’t make a
good couple. You told your father something he wanted to hear because you…you
wanted to hide the real reason why you’re losing your focus—as my father put
it.”
    “Lose my focus?”
    “Having trouble in
school, Greg? Are you not doing as well as you wanted?”
    He shook his head. “No.
I’m…there’s a lot going on—you know…I’m not happy.”
    “So your dad thinks it’s
me. And maybe he thinks we should break up.”
    “No. He doesn’t want
that.”
    “Yes he does. Maybe
he’s afraid I’ll ruin your life like I ruined Alexander’s. You remember
Alexander, don’t you? The guy who loved me—the one who had to go to Vietnam
because of me.”
    “Bec—”
    “My dad wasn’t even upset
when he thought you and I were having sex. He was more concerned with you
losing