4. Invitation

Freen's dreams had become clearer.

Sometimes, it was Becky walking beside her, holding her hand or resting her arm over Freen's shoulder, pressing her into the warmth of her side. Other times, it was a long black form, a shadow, keeping stride beside her. Usually, the dreams were peaceful. The glowing green eyes Freen's mind conjured up, watching over her in the night, seemed to calm her, soothing the restless parts of her. But on other nights, the dreams were darker—vicious nightmares of blood and teeth tearing through flesh.

Freen figured it was all the animal attacks her mother was investigating at work, the stress and anxiety creeping into her subconscious. Her mother even insisted she carry pepper spray with her. Freen wasn't sure if she was more worried about encountering a dangerous animal or accidentally spraying herself in the face.

Back at school, things had gone to hell. People fussed over her for weeks. Nam wouldn't let her carry anything—books, bags, even her lunch. Fourth, poor guy, kept apologizing over and over, which only made Freen more annoyed.

And Becky Armstrong? Well, Becky had turned into a ghost. She avoided Freen completely. The distance between them was palpable, and the other Armstrongs started eyeing Freen warily from a distance. The only time Becky was close was in Freen's dreams.

The upcoming spring dance was a distraction, but only a minor one. The girls were ecstatic, as usual, eagerly asking boys out, following the school's ridiculous rule that only girls could ask. It was heteronormative and annoying, but watching the boys get flowers and glittery signs—something so simple yet so foreign—was oddly amusing. The downside was that Freen had no intention of going to the dance.

Victor, of course, was already waiting for her at their desk. His arrogant grin told her everything she needed to know about where this conversation was headed. As Freen sat down, she didn't bother with pleasantries.

"I'm sorry, Victor, but I'm not going to the dance with you—not to mention, aren't the girls supposed to ask the boys out?"

Victor's smile faltered, and he looked around awkwardly. "Did you already ask someone?"

Freen couldn't help but notice the way his eyes flickered in Becky's direction.

"No," Freen said, her voice firm. "I'm not going to the dance at all."

"Why?" Victor asked, visibly confused.

"I'm going out of town. I have some unfinished business back in California."

Freen noticed Becky staring at her, that familiar edge of frustration clearer than ever in her eyes. Becky's gaze never wavered, and Freen, unexpectedly, found herself trapped in it. For the first time in weeks, their eyes locked, and something magnetic passed between them.

The rest of the class blurred into background noise as Freen stared back, hands gripping her thighs in a tension that mirrored Becky's posture. She couldn't look away.

"Ms. Armstrong?" The teacher's voice cut through the silence, startling Freen back to reality. She had completely tuned out, lost in the strange moment with Becky.

"The Krebs Cycle," Becky answered, turning reluctantly to face the teacher.

How was Becky paying attention to the class? In the midst of their silent staring contest, Freen was lost.

A strange rush of emotions swirled in Freen's chest—confusion, frustration, and an undeniable pull. All of it, just because Becky Armstrong had looked at her again.

When the bell rang, Freen expected Becky to slip away, as she always did, but instead, she called her name.

"Freen?"

The sound of Becky's voice shouldn't have felt so familiar, so... right. Freen turned slowly, reluctant to acknowledge the rush of heat flooding her cheeks.

"Yes?" Her voice sounded strange, almost unfamiliar, like it didn't belong to her anymore.

Becky's lips twitched, as if trying to fight a smile.

Freen closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "What do you want, Becky?" Her frustration seeped through, but she wasn't sure if it was directed at Becky or herself.

"I'm sorry," Becky said, her voice surprisingly soft and sincere. "I've been very rude. I know. But it's better this way, truly." Her face was neutral, though there was something in her eyes—something Freen couldn't quite place.

"I don't know what you mean, Becky," Freen replied, her voice quieter now, confusion clouding her thoughts.

"It's better if we're not friends," Becky explained, her voice almost a whisper. "Trust me."

Freen's heart skipped a beat. "Do you regret it?" The words slipped out before she could stop them.

"Regret?" Becky seemed caught off guard by the question. "Regret for what?"

"For not letting the van crush me." Freen hated herself for saying it, but the words had already left her lips, and she couldn't take them back.

Becky stared at her, astonishment flickering in her eyes. Then, her expression shifted—anger, disbelief, and something else.

"You think I regret saving your life?" Becky's voice was sharp, almost livid.

"I know you do."

"You don't know anything," Becky snapped.

Freen turned away quickly, gathering her things and standing up. She needed to leave—needed to escape the storm Becky had just unleashed.

Just as she was about to head out the door, she saw Fourth approaching in the parking lot. His bashful smile and hesitant steps made Freen want to run, but before she could, Becky appeared behind her, looking absolutely furious.

"Freen, come with me."

"What?" Freen spun around, confused.

"Now," Becky growled, her grip on Freen's arm firm as she pulled her away from a stunned Fourth.

Freen tried to pull away, but Becky's grip tightened as they moved through the crowd of confused students and a smirking Nam. She was dragged to a secluded spot behind the school gym.

"What's with the manhandling?" Freen grumbled, trying to free her arm.

"Sorry."

"So, are you going to tell me why you terrified poor Fourth?"

Becky snapped her head back toward the parking lot, fists clenched at her sides.

"He was going to ask you to the dance."

"And that's your business? Why?" Freen raised an eyebrow, growing more frustrated.

Becky looked momentarily stunned, as if Freen's question was completely unreasonable.

"Were you going to say yes?"

Freen's patience snapped. "You can't not talk to me for weeks, then get weird when someone shows interest in me."

Becky frowned, realizing how unreasonable she sounded.

"Like I said, it's for your own good."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

At this point, Freen was done with the mystery. She wasn't playing these games anymore.

"You're safer this way," Becky murmured, her voice barely audible.

Freen's voice was sharp. "I think I'm pretty much safe with the person who saved my life once."

For a moment, Becky's face softened, and a flicker of hurt passed through her eyes.

Freen sighed, her frustration ebbing away. "Sorry, I just... You're so confusing."

Becky was driving her insane.

"I don't plan on going to the dance."

"What?"

"The dance. I won't be going. I'm not really a dance person, so you don't have to worry about that."

Becky seemed to relax, but there was still something unresolved in her eyes.

"But I'm not waiting around for you to sort out your shit," Freen added, walking away. "You've got to decide what you want. Someone might actually convince me to go out with them someday, Becky. You better hurry up."

Freen didn't know if she was being too bold or if she was finally starting to understand what Becky was trying to say.

The next morning, Freen parked her truck as far from Becky's silver Volvo as possible. She fumbled with the key, and it fell into a puddle. As she bent down to grab it, a hand flashed out, snatching it before she could reach it.

She jerked up in surprise. There, standing casually beside her truck, was Becky.

"How do you do that?" Freen blurted out.

"Do what?" Becky asked, her voice smooth as silk, her smile teasing.

"Appear out of thin air."

Freen was still reeling from everything that had happened.

"Freen, it's not my fault you're unobservant." Becky's voice was quiet but somehow still captivating.

Freen quickly turned, determined to walk away, to follow through on her resolve to avoid Becky.

But then Becky called after her.

"Wait."

Freen didn't stop.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" Freen complained.

"I wanted to ask you something, but you sidetracked me," Becky said softly, her voice filled with a quiet laugh.

"Do you have multiple personality disorder?" Freen muttered, regretting it as soon as it left her mouth.

"You're doing it again," Becky remarked, calm and unbothered.

Freen sighed, defeated. "What do you want to ask?"

Becky paused for a moment, and then her voice softened. "I was wondering if, a week from Saturday—the day of the spring dance—"

Freen's heart skipped a beat. Was Becky about to ask her to the dance?

She turned abruptly to face Becky, who was soaked from the rain, her hair sticking to her face, the raindrops gliding over her smooth skin. Becky's green eyes were mischievous, daring Freen to understand the unspoken tension between them.

"Will you please let me finish?" Becky teased.

Freen swallowed hard. "What?"

Becky's smile was wickedly amused. "Will you let me give you a ride to California?"

Freen blinked, completely stunned. "What?"

"I'm planning to go to California in the next few weeks. Why not come with me?"

Freen stood frozen, unsure of what to make of it. "With you?"

Becky's smile widened, and for a brief moment, Freen thought she saw something more—something vulnerable.

"I don't know if I can keep up with you, Becky," Freen admitted, frustrated with herself. "I thought you didn't want to be my friend."

"I said it would be better if we weren't friends," Becky responded, her eyes intense, her voice unwavering. "But I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Freen."

Freen didn't know how to respond to that. She couldn't breathe.

"Will you go with me?" Becky's voice was almost pleading, though she never broke eye contact.

Freen couldn't speak—she was too stunned. But when she finally nodded, Becky's smile softened, only for a brief moment before it faded into something more serious.

"You should stay away from me," Becky warned quietly. "I'll see you in class."

Becky turned and walked away, leaving Freen standing in the rain, her heart racing and her mind spinning.

What the hell just happened?

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