Beatrice woke to see the red glow of numbers on Wirt's alarm clock and blinked against the brightness of a time that told her it was 5:54. She wasn't sure what had pulled her from sleep, but for once it wasn't the gentle shake of her shoulder from Wirt. His face had greeted her so many times during the night that it had become an expectation, and much to her annoyance, so had him covering his nose for protection each of those times. Beatrice thought it was a little bit dramatic for Wirt to keep shielding his nose whenever he went to check her head injury and eventually had said something to him about it. The night was a bit of a blur for her though, and she couldn't remember exactly which time it was, only that by that point it had happened more than once. "Wirt, I won't punch you, so stop doing that," she had complained.
"Tell that to my nose," was his reply and she sent him a glum expression in response.
Beatrice knew she could throw a hard punch. Most of her brothers would attest to that and a tiny amount of sympathy for Wirt began to seep into her. The boy she was with now was a little less rough and tumble than the boys she had been raised with and maybe her hit had traumatized him. To ease him out of that trauma, Beatrice had tried to joke it off by saying, "Well, that was before we were courting. Things are different now. I would never punch my suitor."
Wirt had looked at her uneasily at first, obviously not liking the use of their sham dating relationship as a tease, but then his mood shifted away from his discomfort enough for him to sarcastically reply, "Uh, yeah, for as much as I know about you … I think you would." Beatrice had harrumphed, rolled over and gone back to sleep after that comeback.
Following their short interaction over him constantly cupping his nose, Beatrice didn't mention it again and this time, her fourth, maybe fifth stir from sleep, there wasn't a teenage boy with his face partially covered peering down at her. "Wirt?" she whispered and turned her head to the right after hearing a soft mumble.
Her eyes didn't have to search far, because the source of that mumble was sitting on the floor next to the bed with his head leaning against its mattress. Beatrice snorted softly at how adorable Wirt looked sleeping, but then her vision traveled down from the top of his head and to his extended hand resting on the comforter her lower body was under. His fingers were woven into hers and Beatrice's mouth opened in surprise. Her first instinct was to pull away, but after the initial shock wore off, she found herself staring for a long time at the way their hands locked together. For being such an innocent gesture, it felt so intimate coming from Wirt.
Everything else he had done for her since she was injured and became dependent on him, felt similar to what a friend might do for another friend if they were in trouble. Yes, Wirt made everything impossibly awkward that it felt like any act of kindness from him held more weight than it actually did, but Beatrice never took it as anything other than Wirt being …. well, Wirt. Hand holding though … while she slept? Had he been doing this all night and she just didn't know? It all seemed very sweet and Beatrice pushed down the side of her personality that wanted to wake Wirt and embarrass him. That wouldn't have been kind and she cared too much about his feelings to aggravate his sensitive side. He wasn't some brother that deserved a good ribbing for showing affection towards her. He was Wirt and there were a whole different set of rules for her when dealing with someone like him.
Carefully Beatrice slid her fingers from his grasp and then let Wirt's hand fall from the bed. He didn't react much to the disturbance, only muttered again and then fell back into a measured breathing that Beatrice listened to as she laid her head back down against his pillow.
Instead of waking him like she probably should have, Beatrice stared up at the white ceiling above her as an image of the letter she had written Wirt pushed its way into her consciousness. At that moment it was folded up into the blue dress she had placed atop Wirt's dresser. Before Beatrice had gone to sleep the night before, Wirt had offered to borrow her some of his … as he put it, comfy clothes, so she could get out of the dress he had ruined with his food fumble. She had taken him up on the offer, but had endured the hard process of dressing alone with only one hand at her disposal. That was fine with Beatrice though when compared with the alternative. The thought of asking Wirt to help her undress wasn't even one she wanted to entertain. She wasn't that helpless. Thankfully Wirt was about her size, maybe a little bit smaller, but not enough that it was obvious to her and the letter Beatrice had hidden down the front of her dress was then folded into it. Now she considered the option of letting Wirt read what was written inside that letter.
It was incredibly personal, written at a time when Beatrice had spent hours listening to Wirt's voice to help cheer her up over the unfortunate visit of her mother's extended family. It was part thank you to him, but also part something more than that and even if Beatrice suspected that Wirt might feel the same way as the words she had written into poetry for him, she was afraid that he might not.
Even more upsetting, her wavering on whether or not to give the poem to Wirt made her feel dumb, like she wasn't sure about something when all her life she was so sure about everything. Beatrice was the girl who always knew what she wanted and went for it, even when it was as disturbed as throwing a rock at a helpless bird, but this time … what if that thing she wanted didn't want her back?
Beatrice shook her head. None of it really mattered, because now wasn't the right time to think about Wirt, her letter, or how she maybe was falling for him. If anything she should have been worrying about Sara and how to act Amish around Wirt's ex-girlfriend or even more importantly, what she was going to do in order to get back home … that was if she even wanted to go back home.
But at that moment in time, Beatrice's brain didn't want to let anything else in except for the sleeping boy beside her, the one who had held her hand while she slept. The one who had lied about them dating and the one she now had to pretend to be with romantically. Beatrice was conflicted. She didn't want to pretend. Contrary to the irritation she had displayed to Wirt after his confession of the lie he had told Sara, her heart wanted her dating Wirt to be a reality. Or did it?
"Oh, shut up, Beatrice," she grumbled to her mind. It was thinking far too deeply about things that she didn't want to examine. Next to her Wirt made a noise in his sleep and Beatrice chuckled. "Yeah, you shut up too." Reaching out the hand he had been holding moments before, she moved some hair away from Wirt's forehead, but instantly pulled her fingers away when the bedroom door opened. "Oh, cheese and crackers!" she softly exclaimed and slid underneath Wirt's comforter, trying to lay as flat as was humanly possible.
"Beatrice?" an uncharacteristically quiet voice, at least for the person talking, said and the girl hiding under the covers peered out to see Wirt's little brother standing in the doorway. Beatrice sat up and pressed an index finger against her lips, then indicated a sleeping Wirt by tipping her head in his direction.
Greg gave her a thumbs up to say he understood and tip toed across the room. When he reached the bed, Beatrice offered him her good hand and after he grasped it, she helped him up. "Your parents aren't awake are they?" she whispered.
Gregory shook his head. "Just me. I come in here all the time and wake Wirt up. He doesn't like it."
"So, why do you keep doing it?" Beatrice snickered.
"I don't know." He shrugged. "I'm only seven. I can't be responsible for my own actions." Beatrice softly laughed and Greg crawled into her lap. "Are you going to live here with us now?" he asked.
"I'm not from here, Greg. I can visit, but I'll probably have to go home soon." And as Beatrice said it, she knew her words were true. She would have to go home, despite her reservations about doing so.
Wirt's little brother didn't seem too happy with that news and followed up with a hopeful, "Will you be staying here again tonight?"
She sighed and hugged Gregory tightly before replying. "I can't. Wirt is going to see if I can stay with his friend Sara for the next few days."
"But why?" he whined and Beatrice had to hush him.
"I can't stay here. It's a house full of boys. So gross." She made an exaggerated disgusted face, but couldn't keep it for long before choking on a laugh she had tried to suppress.
"Mom's a girl," Greg provided as a solution. "She's not gross and would like you. I could go get her and you could meet her and you can be friends. She likes to make cookies. Do you like to make cookies?"
Beatrice shook her head. "Sorry, kid. We're not supposed to tell your parents I'm here. I think I have to stick with Wirt's plan and stay at Sara's."
Greg was quiet for a few seconds and then letting his disappointment go, he replied, "That's okay. Staying with Sara won't be as great as here, but I like her. She's nice. She would always give me candy whenever she came over. Maybe she'll give you candy too. She was Wirt's girlfriend. Did you know that?"
Beatrice nodded slowly, the bottom of her chin coming in contact with the top of Greg's head. "I did."
"Are you going to date Wirt now?" he asked as straightforwardly as if he was inquiring about the weather.
Beatrice was caught off guard, but Greg was so innocent that she couldn't be shocked for long. "I – I don't know the answer to that one, but what I do know is that you should probably go back to your room and try to sleep.
Greg shrugged out of her arms. "Okay, well, if you are going to date Wirt, then that would be okay. Me and Jason Funderberker talked it over. He says you would be good for Wirt. You make him laugh," Greg said as he slid down from the bed.
"Nice to know I have his approval," Beatrice winked at him, a smile pulling at her lips as she fought another laugh.
"Bye, Beatrice," he said when he reached the door and then closed it a little too loudly, causing Wirt to jolt awake.
"Who was … who was that?" Wirt rushed to his feet, but swayed slightly and then muttered, "Ohhhh." There was a faraway look in his eyes and seconds later, he came crashing down onto Beatrice.
She wasn't hurt, but Wirt was in a position over her body that placed his head against her chest and after the surprise wore off, Beatrice pushed him beside her instead. She didn't want to shout, but never having experienced someone fainting before, which was what she assumed had happened, his still body unnerved her and the volume of her voice as she called his name rose to a level Wirt probably wouldn't have approved of.
But he wasn't out for long. After a few good shakes to his body that weren't as gentle as the ones he had used to wake her, Wirt opened his eyes. "Always so violent with me." He sent her a crooked grin while pulling himself into a sitting position.
Beatrice folded her arms across her chest in contempt. "Don't joke. I was worried."
"Heh, sorry." His grin turned sheepish. "Did I faint?"
"I think so. Does that happen a lot?"
"Ehhh, sometimes. Usually if I stand too fast … or stay in the sun too long, or uh, basically do anything … actually it happens all the time," he replied and then glanced at his closed bedroom door. "Was someone in here before, I, uh, fainted?"
"Just Greg, but I told him to go back to bed," Beatrice informed him.
Wirt sighed with a hint of exasperation coloring his exhale. "He's always doing that. I wish I had a lock on my door."
"It's okay. He only had adorable Greg things to say. Besides better him than your parents."
"Yeah … sorry I fell asleep." Wirt frowned in apology. "Last thing I remember I was slapping my face trying to stay awake."
Beatrice couldn't hold herself back and mocked, "Like your face needs anymore help being red." Then reaching out a hand, she gently slapped his left cheek a few times.
Wirt batted her hand away. "Cut it out," he grumbled shyly and Beatrice chuckled. "So, I should probably go get ready for school now," he said, glimpsing at the clock on his nightstand. "I leave for the bus stop in an hour."
The night before, Wirt had explained that it would be better if he asked for Sara's help in person and that meant Beatrice would have to be stuck alone in Wirt's home for hours while he went to school. She didn't really like the idea, but also had promised to go along with what he said, because she didn't have a plan of her own to counter his. Wirt must have seen something in Beatrice's face that expressed her feelings, because he felt the need to add, "It's not long and you'll have the whole house to yourself. You can go anywhere you want."
"Yeah, I'll make sure to run sprints up and down the stairs on my twisted ankle," she replied sardonically.
Wirt looked amused by her response. "I, uh, wouldn't advise that, but if you feel the need."
Beatrice thought that maybe her personality was beginning to rub off on Wirt and despite his quip upstaging hers, she felt a slow smile beginning to grow on her face. "Whatever, nerd," she retorted, trying to hide her grin by turning her face away from his.
He just laughed and left the room, coming back a few minutes later with a rectangle. Unlike all those others he had left at the wall for her, this one was edible and came in a silver package of two. "Breakfast," he explained and bit into one, then offered the other to her. The two of them sat side by side, eating in comfortable silence and as the taste of the sweet rectangle hit her tongue each time she took a bite, Beatrice had to admit that food on Wirt's side of the wall was much tastier than anything her mother cooked.
When Wirt was finally ready to leave an hour later, he walked to the door of his room and said to Beatrice, "My stepdad's already gone and my mom goes to work after she puts Greg on the bus. That's not too long from now. After that you won't have to worry about staying quiet in here and I'll hopefully come back with Sara around 2:45."
Beatrice nodded, but also frowned, an expression she couldn't seem to fight off. Wirt hesitated at the door after seeing the look on her face and then came back to the bed she was sitting on. "Hey, if you want to waste your time on something while I'm gone, you can listen to all the tapes I made for you over break." He pointed at a stack of cassettes that were beside their player in a corner of his room. "If anything it will show you just how miserable I was when I didn't think you were going to be in my life anymore … not that you were physically here, but you know … your tapes, uh, they … they were my favorite part of the day when you did send them."
Beatrice's frown pushed upward into a small smile. His earnest admission made her heart flip and as she stared into his brown eyes a little emotion stimulated her desire to do something reckless … so rash that she held back. Again the girl who always went for what she wanted used discretion and decided kissing Wirt probably wouldn't have produced the reaction in him that she wanted.
"Wirt, hurry up. You'll miss the bus!" A voice yelled from somewhere outside his door and consequently broke the spell between them.
"Gotta go," he said to her and moments later, Wirt walked out the door, leaving Beatrice alone with her very conflicted emotions.
