Becca

Pulling myself together after my freak-out takes way more effort than I care to admit. After some much-needed breathing exercises and a few desperate pleas for divine intervention, I’m back in control and more determined than ever to keep Shane Montgomery at a distance.

Though I’m stuck working with him, I’m not entirely powerless here. I mean, come on, I’m technically an adult now. A smart, independent woman with self-respect and morals. That I’m allowing someone like Shane to intimidate me is absurd. What I need to do is take charge of this situation, so for once, he’s the one caught off guard and left reeling. I need to be the one dictating the terms of this arrangement, and it begins with his ridiculous demand that I take every Wednesday off of work.

I have bills to pay and a roof to keep over my head. Unlike the entitled rich jerk, I don’t live a life of leisure, where rich mommy and daddy cater to my every whim after a hard day spent exploiting our community and crushing the dreams of those naïve enough to believe that hard work alone can help them overcome their subservient existence. 

Ugh… why do I sound so damn jaded and bitter? Oh, that’s right. Because my only point of reference is my life, otherwise known as “the aftermath” of what that rich asshole—aka my sperm donor—did to my family.

“You know what to do. Get out there, take back your control, and tell Shane Montgomery exactly how it’s going to be,” I whisper with conviction, as I stare down the thunderstruck girl in the mirror.

Running my fingers through my hair to fix it, I note the remnants of red flush that still linger under my skin. It’s so embarrassing. I don’t understand why this keeps happening. I’ve never been this girl. Not even Lucas, whom I was actually in love with, got under my skin like this. That it’s Shane, of all people, who is affecting me this way is not only shameful but reprehensible. It’s all the more reason I need to limit how much time I spend with him.

With my newfound feigned confidence, I stride back into the room as if the awkward exchange between us never happened. With my shoulders back and head held high, I walk right past him to where my uneaten plate of food waits for me on the counter. After everything, I’ve lost my appetite, so I dump the contents into the trash before dropping the plate in the sink. Instead of taking a seat next to him, I opt to stand on the other side of the kitchen island, diagonal from where he’s sitting.

Very smart, Becca. Putting the kitchen island between you is what’s safest.

“I can’t afford to take every Wednesday off, Shane.” I declare, determined to take control of the situation. “I get this is important, and I assure you, I’m committed to doing whatever it takes to get Mr. Blair off our backs. But losing out on money I need to keep a roof over my head is a non-negotiable for me.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him nod a few times before he says, “I get that. I do, but here’s the thing. I know your boss, and she doesn’t schedule employees to work more than five days a week. What I’m suggesting is that you ask for Wednesdays off. Consistently. A day in the middle of the week for us to check in, which shouldn’t take long. Then we could use the rest of the time to get caught up on our assignments. Maybe help each other if we need it. It’s one day, Becca. One day in the middle of the chaos to catch your breath from the present, to prioritize your future.” 

Crap! When he puts it that way, it makes perfect sense, but to agree to his terms without question gives him way too much power over me.

“But why not on a Monday? Or Tuesday even, since they’re the slowest days at the diner?”

“Oh, I have every intention of meeting with you on Mondays. And Fridays. That’s my second stipulation. That you give me your lunch hour on those two days, so we can discuss your priorities and the assignments you’re working on. We’ll use the time to make sure everything’s progressing accordingly.”

“Three days? You’re asking for too much, Shane,” I protest in a high-pitched dramatic voice that, given the circumstances, feels justifiable.

“I’m asking for four, five hours tops, out of your week. One hour on Mondays and Fridays and two to three hours on Wednesdays. As long as you come to each meeting prepared to be open and honest about how you’re doing, most of that time can be spent on homework and studying.” When I don’t respond, he then says, “Look, I know what passing these classes means to you and I understand how valuable your time is. It’s why I’ll guarantee every minute of the time you spend with me will be time well spent, and if not, we can talk about it and reassess.”

“I don’t get it,” I shake my head incredulously. “Why are you doing this?”

“You heard what Mr. Blair said. I don’t have much of a choice. I can’t take a chance at losing my spot in the peer advisory program. My father would kill me, plus aside from that, I’m kind of invested in you. I think what you’re doing, working, living on your own and supporting yourself, pushing hard to get ahead in school, planning for college… you’re fucking amazing, Becca. And I’d love nothing more than to see you achieve your dreams.”

The reverence in his soulful brown eyes as he peers deep into mine sends another wave of warmth flushing over my skin. Suddenly uncomfortable, I look away, then reach up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind my ear.

“Come. On. Pretty girl,” he’s holding his hands together like he’s begging, while his face is lit up with that stupid charming smile that makes my insides quiver. “Say yes. Please. Say yes, and I promise you, I will work my ass off to make both our dreams come true.”

He’s so damn dramatic I can’t help but roll my eyes. Biting back a smile, I reply, “I highly doubt being a peer advisor is your dream come true. So if not that, what could you possibly be getting out of this annoying little arrangement?”

“Well, aside from not getting kicked off the program and disappointing my father, I’ll have the opportunity to both tutor and be tutored by the smartest girl in our graduating class,” he grins. The sense of pride in his eyes when he describes me as the smartest girl makes my heart skip a beat. “And as a bonus, you’re also the prettiest. I want to get to know you, pretty girl. I thought I made that clear.”

“Why? I told you; I’m not interested in dating and I already have more than enough friends. My only priorities right now are work and school. It’s all I have time for.” I mean to relay this information calmly, but by the high-pitched tone and shake in my voice, I’m sure he can tell I’m anything but calm.

With his palms up, he attempts to reassure me, “I’m not expecting anything, Becks. I swear. For now, we’ll keep things professional. We’ll stick to only discussing school and our grades, then we can see what happens from there. Eventually, maybe I can change your mind. I’d like the chance to prove to you I can be a great friend.”

“Why would someone like you want anything to do with someone like me?”

“Someone like you?” He sounds genuinely confused, which only frustrates me more.

“Yes, someone like me! We might as well be from different planets, Shane. We don’t run in the same circles. We have nothing in common. People like me and you don’t mix.”

“Okay… I’ll bite. Why the hell not?”

“Why not?” Is he kidding me? “Oh, I don’t know, Shane, you tell me. Why is it you and your friends don’t associate with people like me?” I ask pointedly. When he rubs the back of his neck, I know I’ve got him.

“That you’re asking me that only proves you don’t know me at all. I can’t speak for anyone else, but for me, I can look you in the eye and honestly say not once have I ever chosen a friend for any other reason than they’re good people.”

“Is that right?” Dying to call his bluff, I cross my arms over my chest and cock an eyebrow in his direction. “You just said that you choose your friends based on the fact they’re good people. So explain to me, how do your three best friends, and biggest bullies of Ruby Creek High, fit into that picture? Because from my personal experience, there’s not a single shred of humanity in Amanda and Nicholas Kline,” I can’t help but cringe at the mention of the legitimate children of my mother’s rapist—aka my half-siblings. “The same can be said about Connor Matthews.”

“Becca, I know it may not seem like it from the outside, but the pressure for kids like us is different…” 

I huff out loud, shocked at his audacity to defend his friends and himself by playing like they’re the victims. “How is that an excuse to treat the rest of us like we’re inferior? Like we’re not deserving of common decency and respect?”

“I’m not implying you’re wrong. I’m just saying there’s a lot more going on than meets the eye. In our world, expectations are unreasonably high, and the consequences for falling short of those expectations are life-altering and debilitating.”

“Please!” I snap at him. “Look around you, Shane. Look at my life, how I’m living. I’m still in high school, for god’s sake. I only just turned 18 two months ago and I’ve been living on my own, completely responsible for my own financial support, going on four months now. And the worst part is, it’s not my failures or shortcomings that led me here. No. I’m in this position because of what Charles Kline did to my mother. To my aunt and uncle. To me. So don’t you dare play the woe is me card because I don’t care to hear it. You say you want to be my friend, Shane, that you want me to give you a chance to prove what a good guy you are, then tell me why people like you take advantage of people like me. Explain to me how your so-called terrible life of privilege gives you the right to use and destroy people like my family.”

I don’t realize I’m crying until Shane comes around to where I’m standing and pulls me into his arms. Like the lonely, affection-starved girl I’ve become, I close my eyes and sink into his warm embrace.

“I’m sorry, pretty girl. I didn’t mean to upset you.” After a few seconds, he tips my head back so he can look into my eyes. “You see, this is why we should get to know one another. I don’t know what happened between your family and Charles Kline, but I’m willing to listen if you want to talk. Truthfully, I just want to know you. From the good to the bad. To the in-between. Everything and anything that makes you who you are. And me, I want you to know me. Who I am, deep down, outside of my family’s reputation or expectations. I’d give anything for you to see me for me.”

Pulling away from him, I wipe away my tears and attempt to add some levity to this weird conversation.“Who would have thought you’re such an idealist, Montgomery?” Based on how he’s looking at me, I’d venture to say my attempt at humor failed miserably.

“Use me, pretty girl.”

“What?” My eyes snap to his.

“Use me. I’m giving you permission to take advantage of me. To use me in whatever way you need me. For tutoring. To get your grades up. As an accountability partner. For company or friendship. Hell, if you need someone to pick up some groceries, give you a ride, or unclog a toilet, use me. Let me be the one to bear the brunt of the injustice that’s been done to you, pretty girl. If only to prove to you we’re not all an extension of the world we come from.”

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Author’s Note:

In this scene, Shane realizes that Becca's mistrust isn't about him directly, but with the world he represents.  

How do you feel about Shane's offer to let Becca use him? Do you think this was a smart way for him to show her he's not a threat to her?

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