Jenna never quite does find her way home after all that happens with Becky. She finds herself trapped in her head, constantly playing back what she did on an endless loop, punishing herself because she deserves it. There's a heavy weight of guilt permanently settled in the pit of her stomach, and her normally perky demeanor is all but gone.
Alli and Clare have noticed, but she only shakes her head in response, keeping everything locked away and to herself only. She takes off the little solid gold cross that she had bought herself after her baptism at Becky's encouragement, tucking it away in a battered old jewelry box at the back of the closet she shares with Alli. She stops praying, stops attending church, and stops relying on God for anything.
Things like schoolwork and songwriting and being with friends lose all meaning, and more often than not she winds up laying in the Bhandari's backyard and staring up at the sky. She traces the outlines of the clouds with her eyes, lets her mind go blank, and, for a few wonderful moments all thoughts of Becky are gone.
—
Becky has been entirely out of character since her revelation underneath the oak tree three weeks ago. She's angry with herself, she's lashing out at others, and she's completely unapologetic. Everyone she comes in contact with is at risk, even her parents, and especially Luke, and it gets to the point where her parents have to take her aside and ask if she needs to speak with someone about her anger management issues.
She finds herself praying less and less, until two weeks pass and she realizes she hasn't prayed once before Sunday mass. She has never once in her life been like this and it only serves to make her feel more unsettled.
She goes back to her father's Bible and sits there, cross-legged on the floor, with the heavy book in her lap. It remains unopened for an entire fifteen minutes as she stares down at it, tracing the gold cross with her fingertip. She isn't sure what she plans on finding between the pages, but she knows it won't be comforting. After another few minutes, she hears the front door open and she stands, placing it back on her father's desk without ever having opened it, and leaves.
—
Jenna finds herself standing in front of her locker one day, mechanically putting her books in without much thought at all. She's simply staring straight ahead and trying to push the nagging thought of BeckyBeckyBecky out of her head - where Becky is right now, what Becky is doing right now, who Becky is with right now. It's a recurring trend that happens at school dozens of times throughout the day, and it's starting to take its toll on her sanity.
Just as she pulls her hand out of her locker and it clears the edge of the metal door, someone slams it shut and she jumps away. When she turns to snap at the person, feeling the first burst of emotion in weeks, the words die on her lips when she realizes it's Becky. The other girl is standing before her, looking just the same as she ever did physically, but her eyes tell a different story: they're exhausted, broken down, but also like there's a spark in there, like something is still fighting.
Without a single word, Becky reaches down and wraps her fingers around Jenna's wrist, pulling her along between the students. Never once does she let go, her grip only tightening when it seems like someone might separate them, and Jenna feels like her skin is on fire. Her thoughts are disconnected, disjointed, and nothing she's thinking makes any sense at all.
Becky opens a classroom door and shoves Jenna in, glancing behind her to make sure no one sees them entering, and then slips in, locking the door behind them.
—
Becky can't stand feeling like there's something hovering between her and Jenna any longer, keeping them tethered. She wants to know why she can't just seamlessly integrate herself back into her life pre-Jenna, wants to know why she feels the overwhelming urge to kiss her again, and wants to know why it doesn't feel so much like a sin anymore.
She has every single intention of asking her these questions and more when she has her cornered in one of the empty classrooms at the end of school one day, but when she sees Jenna in front of her, eyes downcast, one hand nervously playing with the strap of her backpack, she finds she can't. She can't even remember why she pulled her in her in the first place, and after running a hand through her hair with a frown, she growls in frustration. That seems to catch Jenna's attention and she glances up swiftly, meeting Becky's gaze.
It's like all of the air in the room thickens, and Becky can hear the blood pounding in her ears, and her fingers twitch, scrabbling at her jeans in an effort to find something to grab onto. She can't take her eyes off of Jenna's, and Jenna certainly isn't looking away. A few tense seconds go by, and then Jenna does it: the tip of her tongue pokes out and she licks her bottom lip nervously. Becky's gaze flicks downward, and then she finds herself surging forward without so much as a second thought.
—
Jenna meets her halfway, and then they're kissing, Becky's hands cupping Jenna's face and her hands on the other girl's hips. They stagger off-balance a bit and Jenna ends up with her thighs against a desk and has to brace herself with one hand while Becky leans into her, their entire bodies flush against one another's. Becky's tongue swipes along Jenna's lip and she grants her access, her index finger hooking in the loop in Becky's jeans. Her thumb grazes the sliver of skin bared just underneath her top, and she isn't surprised to find that it's just as soft as she imagined. A small noise comes from Becky and she moves away, meeting Jenna's gaze.
Her eyes are wide, confused, searching Jenna's own, and Jenna can't even think straight. She's out of breath and panting, and her finger is still stuck in Becky's belt loop, a fact she only realizes after Becky tries to turn away from her. Becky crosses the room, picks up the bag she abandoned, and heads for the door. When her hand touches the doorknob, she casts a glance over her shoulder at Jenna.
There's something almost apologetic in her eyes before a determined look settles over her face and she opens the door, blending in with the crowd of people leaving for the day. Jenna leans back against the desk for support, feeling like all of the energy has drained out of her again. She doesn't know what just happened and she doesn't know what will happen in the future, but she does know that the sinking feeling in her gut doesn't bode well.
She put all of her faith in Becky Baker, and it clearly wasn't a good gamble.
—
When Becky goes home, she sits underneath her favorite oak tree again, resting her head against it. She wants to forget about what she did today, but her mind won't let her and her body physically aches from how emotionally exhausted she is by all of this. She's gone over everything that's happened with Jenna countless times; picked it apart until she can't possible analyze it any longer.
Her rosary is still under the tree where she threw it all those weeks ago after reciting the Hail Marys. She eyes it for a long moment and then, with a sigh, picks it up out of the grass and wipes the dirt off of it. She supposes there should be some guilt about letting it get to this state, but there's absolutely nothing in her that feels any sort of emotion right now.
She turns the beads over and over in her fingers as she thinks about her options with Jenna. All roads really do lead back to one conclusion, and one conclusion only. She knows it's the right one for everyone else's sake, even if the emptiness she's feeling inside says otherwise. She stands up, glances down at the rosary for a few seconds, and finally tucks it back into her pocket.
Jenna Middleton was just an unfortunate detour in God's plan.