Becca by Jennie Taylor

bags and went into the house.
     
    “Thank God!” Bridget shouted. She yanked the sacks from my arms and sat them on the coffee table.
    “How is Mom?”
    “Not good. The same.”
    “I’m glad you made it back.” Tasha said. She put her arms around my neck and pulled me in for a kiss. “I was scared.” She has tears in her eyes.
    “We’re fine.” I slipped from her and grabbed the sack with the medicine in it. “Make sure Mom gets this,” I handed Bridget the antibiotics. “And some Tylenol. And plenty of water.”
    “Okay, I will.”
    “Mr. Lang, did you get any potato chips?” David asked.
    “Sorry, I don’t think so.”
    “How about chocolate?” Amber asked him. “I’d kill for a Hershey’s bar right now.”
    “Now that I think we can do.”
    “I’m going upstairs.” I told him. I started around the sofa and Tasha grabbed my hand. I kept going, pulling away from her.
    “Becca,”
    “I have to lay down.” I said.
     
    I hurried up the stairs, hoping to make it to our room before I lost it and began to sob again. I flopped onto the bed and buried my face in the pillow and let out a scream. It was just a minute later the bed moved under Tasha’s weight. She ran her hand down my back.
     
    “It’s okay, honey.” she said.
    “I killed him.”
    “Who?”
     
    I sobbed and told her what happened. She reassured me, much like Dad did. It wasn’t working. And I know she’s pretty upset, too. I can hear her sniffling. I haven’t looked up to see if she’s crying, but she had to be.
     
    “Becca, it’s like a cop, okay? Someone bails out of a vehicle after a high speed chase and waves their hand at the cop and the cop shoots him. He has to. And sometimes it’s not a gun the guy was waving, sometimes it’s a cell phone. Does that mean the cop shouldn’t shoot?”
    “It’s not the same.”
    “It’s exactly the same, honey.”
     
    Maybe she’s right. At least I know she doesn’t blame me or think I’m a murderer. I turned onto my back and I could see that she was crying too. I thought so.
     
    “I’m okay, Tasha.”
    “I know you are. Everything is fine, Becca.”
    “I love you.”
    “I love you, too.”
    “But I’m in love with you. You aren’t in love with me.”
    “I might be.” she said, smiling. “I’m trying.”
    “You shouldn’t have to try, Tasha. Either you love me or you don’t.”
    “No,” She leaned forward and kissed me. “I’m trying to get out of my own way, because I think I really am in love with you.”  
     
    Seriously? She thinks she could be in love with me. Yes! Well if one thing could cheer me up, that’s it. I love her so much.
     
    “Tasha, do you want to have kids some day?”
    “Well we haven’t gotten past second base yet, you’re a little early.” she said, giggling.
    “Second base? Wait, what is that, anyway?”
    “I always thought second base was like getting each other off.” she said. “Ya know, manually. Whatever.”
    “What I’m trying to say is that I love you. But Dad made a point earlier. What if you want a kid?”
    “Do you?”
    “Honestly, with everything going on, I have no idea. I mean I like kids, but it’s crazy right now. Plus I'm only seventeen, so...”
    “What is this about?” she asked, laughing. “Getting kind of serious, aren’t you, hon?”
    “I am serious, Tasha. But this was Dad’s idea.”
    “He wants us to have a kid?”
    “No. He asked me what if you and I didn’t work out because you wanted a kid.”
    “Oh.” She hugged me. “I’m not there yet, Rebecca.” she said. “I’m getting there. And if I have a kid some day, I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to raise it with.”
    “Thank you.”
    “But Becca, I said I wanted time to make sure this is what I want.”
    “I know. Trust me, no pressure.”
     
    She laid next to me and snuggled up against me. She does love me. She thinks she may be in love with me. If this is because of all the stress of what we’re going