Bea let go of Trent's hand and took a big step towards Beth. "Chris who?" she growled.

"Uh, Whitmore?"

"Why would Chris Whitmore give a shit about where I'm living?" Bea asked. Beth was regarding her with anxiety now, aware that something in the conversation had gone deeply wrong.

"I...thought you were dating him?"

"Where in the name of fuck did you get that idea?" Bea asked.

"Christine told me," she replied. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to piss you off."

"You should probably tone it down a little," Trent murmured.

Bea sighed. "I'm sorry, Beth. I didn't mean to get angry. It's just...Chris has been harassing me. He's a complete ass. He threatened Trent!" she growled.

"Oh...wow. I didn't know. Jeez, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. Don't suppose you have any idea where Christine might be?" Bea asked.

"We were actually just hanging out. We both work at the Taco Buck now and we just got off after a morning shift. She was gonna hit up the Snack Falcon."

"Perfect. Thanks. Hit me up on the chattrbox, Beth," Bea said as she pulled out her phone. "I've got some shit to sort out."

"Okay. Good to see you, and, uh, meet you Trent," Beth replied awkwardly.

"You too," Trent replied.

Bea was already texting something angrily as Beth walked away.

"Why do people keep thinking you're dating him?" Trent muttered.

"I have decided that this date is going to be you and I running that particular little mystery down," Bea said. "Ah-ha! Thank God for Gregg's tendency to immediately reply back," she muttered as she started walking back towards their house at a rapid pace while still texting. "Come on!"

"What's happening?" he asked.

"Gregg is working at the Snalcon. He says Christine just walked in. I told him to keep here there and keep her busy for me, I'm on my way. We're grabbing your Jeep."

"Wouldn't it be faster to walk? I don't think we're that far away," Trent replied.

"It's a fifteen minute walk from here or five minutes to run back to the house, grab your Jeep, and drive up there," Bea replied. She put her phone away. "Come on!"

She began jogging. Trent followed after her.

"Um...is this okay?" Bea asked suddenly as they drove through town. "I just realized I steamrolled right over you about his…"

"If this is how you want your date to go, then so be it," Trent replied. "I gotta admit, this is interesting, and kinda fun."

"Okay, cool. And if it goes south, I've got mace. Do you have anything?"

"My knife," Trent replied.

"Sweet. Hopefully we won't need them."

"Hopefully."

A moment later, she was pulling into the parking lot of the Snack Falcon. They both hopped out and Bea marched inside with a sense of purpose. This was a really nice side of her. That 'I'm going to get this fucking done' side.

It occurred to him, suddenly, that he had seen that in both Ann and Mae as well, just not as often.

Inside, a green-furred cat in a Taco Buck uniform was standing at the counter, talking with Gregg. They both looked over as they came in.

"Oh wow, Beatrice Santello. Hi," the cat said.

"Christine," Bea replied walking over. "I was just talking with Beth."

"Oh! We were just talking about you...um...is that why you're here?" She looked a little more anxious suddenly. "Is this about you and Chris?" she murmured. "Was it still, like, a secret?"

Gregg started laughing. "Oh shit!" he said. "Oh man, I have no idea what's going on, but you just fucked up!"

Bea sighed. "Gregg."

"Sorry, it's funny," he replied.

Bea crossed her arms. "Who told you that Chris and I were dating, Christine?" she asked, fixing the cat with a firm stare.

She seemed to wilt under it. "Cindy."

"...Cindy Clark?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Two days ago. We were hanging out. She told me about it."

Bea growled. "She still live with her parents in Parkdale?"

"Yeah, I do, too. That's why we were hanging out."

"Fine. Thanks for letting me know. Oh, and," Bea took a step forward, "feel free to spread the word, Christine: Chris Whitmore has never been involved with me. He is not involved with me. He never will be involved with me. In any capacity. Ever. He's a pathetic piece of shit. You got that?"

"Uh...yeah...I'm sorry, Bea. I didn't mean to upset you, it's just what I heard from Cindy, I swear!"

Bea relaxed again. She reached up and ran a hand down one side of her face, trying to calm herself. "Yeah, that's fine. I'm not mad at you. I'm just mad that anyone thinks I would ever date that piece of shit."

"I mean...is he that bad? He's pretty hot," Christine murmured.

"Don't ever date him, Christine, please. He will fucking abuse you, I'm sure of it."

"Why do you think that?" she asked.

"I know the type," Bea replied.

"He is an asshole," Gregg said.

"Well...man. I guess...he does kinda remind me of my stepdad, now that I think about it. And he and my mom fought a lot, and he was such a dick…"

"Chris is definitely a dick," Trent said.

"Come on," Bea said, turning around and stalking away.

"Later, Gregg," Trent said as he followed her back out.

"Later guys!" Gregg replied, laughing still.

"Well, that was intense," Trent said as they headed back for the Jeep.

"Eh, it wasn't that bad," Bea replied. "Can I drive? I know the way there. It isn't too far."

"Sure," he replied, passing her his keys.

They got in, she fired it up, and they drove off.

"What are you hoping to find out, exactly?" Trent asked.

"Who started this fucking rumor," Bea replied as they rolled into a trailer park near the edge of town. "Could be a few different people but I like following this thread. This is fun. You're still having fun right?"

"Yep," he replied.

"Awesome. It's a mystery, we're solving a mystery."

"So how do you know, uh...Cindy?" he asked as she slowed and drove down the street.

"We hung out a little in high school. I hung out with a lot of people in high school because I was one of the few responsible people who could actually drive at sixteen and I had decently regular access to a car. So there was a time there where a lot of people became friendly with me, they wanted rides. Or sex." She paused, twisting her lips in consideration. "I dunno if you want to hear it as my boyfriend, but...you know, I did really think about it. Like as tenth grade was coming to an end, and I was getting some attention, I really considered 'maybe I should sleep around'."

"I mean I'm pretty sure most of us think that at least some of the time, and most of us would take the opportunity," Trent replied. "What changed your mind?"

"Well, after actually having sex over summer, I was like, 'uh...maybe not', and pumped the breaks on that concept. And now, after having seen how that plays out, I'm so glad I didn't bother. Like fuck, man, so much drama and heartbreak and unwanted pregnancies and STDs and assault and insanity. Cindy's biggest claim to local fame is that she was the girl the star quarterback broke up with his girlfriend for, who, might I add, was pregnant with his child at the time. Cindy got her nosering pulled out, violently, by said ex at the mall, in front of like everyone. It was pretty brutal."

"Jeez."

"Yep...here's her place."

She rolled to a stop in front of one of the trailers and parked. They both got out and walked up to the front door. Bea knocked on it.

"Maybe reign in your energy a wee bit," Trent said.

Bea sighed. "Yeah, probably...am I really that intimidating?"

"Oh yeah, you are."

She gave him a sidelong look. "Is this, like, making you horny?"

"...maybe."

She laughed. "Wow."

The door opened up and Trent found himself looking at a light tan-furred fox. "Bea...hi. Wow, it's been a really long time."

"Hello, Cindy," Bea replied. Trent could indeed see a scar on her nose. Damn, that must've really hurt. "I was hoping to ask you a really quick question."

"Um, all right. You wanna come in?" she asked uncertainly, glancing at Trent.

"No, we're fine," Bea replied. "And this is Trent. So, I just heard from Catherine that you told her I was dating," she paused, making a face, like she literally couldn't say it without retching and was trying not to, "Chris Whitmore. Where did you hear that from?"

"Oh...from Chris," she replied.

"I fucking knew it," Bea growled.

"Are you...not? I heard your dad fired him for dating you? And then you quit in, like, protest? And you're moving out of your dad's apartment and looking for a place with him?"

"Oh my God! I'm going to literally fucking vomit and I can't tell if it's in disgust or rage," Bea snapped. "I suddenly have so much sympathy for Mae and her rage. Jesus! He's lying, Cindy! He's lying about everything. You want to know who I'm dating?" She reached out and grabbed the front of Trent's hoodie. "This is my boyfriend, Cindy! And he treats me amazingly, and he's got fucking dynamite dick, okay?!"

"Bea!" Trent cried.

Cindy stared at the two of them for a long, awkward moment.

"Uh...wow. Okay," she managed. "Congrats…?"

"Thank you. And sorry, that was probably too far. But I'm so fucking-ugh! He fucking lied! I fucking hate it when people lie about me just so blatantly!"

"Actually...I know how you feel. Everybody thinks I'm such a fucking bitch and whore for 'stealing' Ron in high school but he told me Cathy was so fucking awful to him, and mean, and I was so nice to him. That's why he broke up with her and we started going out! But then when he left me and fucking married her, they talked so much shit on me! I've heard stories from people that are just not true. Like grade-A, total horseshit...God, so you aren't with him, like, at all?"

"No! I never was! He kept hitting on me at the store and, like, cornered me at one point, like trying to make me go on a date with him! And then he-ugh, I should just stop now. Suffice to say, he was a huge asshole to me, and Trent, and my best friend. He's a douchebag."

"I guess so. Man. Well, if you want to tell him to his face to piss off, he lives here, in the trailer park," Cindy replied.

"Oh great," Trent muttered, looking around. That was all he needed.

"Hmm," Bea murmured.

"Bea, come on, that's a terrible idea. Especially after-well, last night."

"What happened last night?" Cindy asked.

"Nothing," Trent replied. He glanced at Bea, and was surprised to see that she seemed to be struggling with not saying anything. "It's personal," he added, a finality in his tone. While there was a part of him that kind of wanted to just throw out there that yes, he had fucked Chris's sister, there was another, much saner part that knew he had promised to keep this on the down-low, and respecting that was more important than any passing feeling he might have.

"Yeah, it is," Bea agreed. "But he's living with his parents, right?"

"Yeah," Cindy replied. "...why did your dad fire him? I mean, is it cuz he cornered you?"

"Basically, yeah. He's pathetic...I'm gonna go talk to him. I was willing to let it go before this, but knowing he's outright lying about me? No, fuck that."

"Good luck," Cindy said. "He lives at the end of Elm Lane."

"Thanks. Come on."

Trent sighed and said an awkward goodbye to Cindy as he followed Bea back to his Jeep again and she started driving.

"Bea...this is a bad idea," Trent said.

She was frowning intensely. "I'm not going to do anything stupid."

"This is stupid."

She sighed. "I can't just let this go. Not while I have a chance to nip this in the bud right now. I'm...I'm asking for your help on this. Because I know it could turn violent, and I'd like you there with me."

"I will, I'm not saying I won't. I'm just...lodging a formal complaint."

"I'm sorry. I know this is asking a lot, but-this is important to me."

"Then it's important to me, too. And honestly, after getting shot, this does seem like less of a big deal."

She laughed. "Yeah, true. Okay, let's see if we can perform a miracle. Just...hang back and jump in if things get bad."

"Okay."

"Thanks."

After some driving around, she finally found the trailer in question and parked. "Yep, there's his crappy car," she muttered. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then pulled her mace out of her purse and slipped it into her hoodie pocket. "You got your knife?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Let's do this."

They got out and Trent leaned against the Jeep, slipping his hands into his pockets. Although Trent knew he was feeling more confident about this encounter than before all the insane shit that had gone down, he was still pretty nervous. That encounter in Claire's apartment had just been miserable, and so had both times in the Pickaxe.

Bea was walking up to the front door when it banged open suddenly and Chris walked out. He looked at Bea. "What the hell are you-" Then he looked at Trent. "Oh what the fuck is this bullshit!?" he snapped. "Are you serious, right now?! Are you serious? At my house?!"

"I'm just here as backup," Trent replied.

"Yeah, I'm the one that has an issue with you. Stop fucking lying about me, Chris," Bea said. She walked up to him, but stayed out of his reach.

"I don't know what the fuck you're-"

"Don't bullshit me," Bea snapped. "I was just talking with Cindy Clark and she told me all the horseshit you tried to feed her about us dating and trying to find a place together and I quit because my dad fired you, like dude! Not. Fucking. Cool. Do not lie about me to other people. I was willing to basically just walk from all the other insane shit you have pulled, but no. This is where I draw the line. You have to stop this."

Trent tensed as he saw that Chris seemed to be building to a nuclear meltdown, staring at Bea, fists clenched at his sides.

And then, suddenly, he seemed to deflate. He actually sat down on his front steps. He looked tired. "Why won't you date me?" he asked in a surprisingly quiet voice.

Bea seemed unsure of what to do, glancing back at Trent briefly. He gave her an encouraging nod. This might be their only chance to get him to chill the hell out and leave them alone.

She looked back at him and sighed. "Chris…"

"I just wanna know. Am I that ugly?"

"Jesus, Chris," she growled. "You want to know the truth? Fine. I never went out on any dates with you mostly because for the duration of our knowing each other, I wasn't looking to date anyone. I was too busy and too depressed."

"Why are you depressed?" he asked, looking up at her, a little resentfully. "What do you have to be depressed about?"

"Uh, my fucking mom dying of fucking cancer you fucking asshole!"

"Oh...right. Sorry," he muttered, looking away.

"And the fact that I wanted out of this shithole town, but any chance of that died with my mom. I was supposed to go to college, not work at the goddamned fucking Pickaxe eighty hours a week! But even putting that aside: we are a bad fit, Chris. I'm not attracted to you. And for real, it doesn't have much to do with how you look. It has everything to do with how you act. You're an asshole, Chris. I'm not trying to just rub your face in it, I mean it: you're an asshole. You are mean and rude to people, and ignore people, and you absolutely do not have to. You don't listen to people. You don't respect people. You dismiss basically everyone. I've seen you do it, over and over again. You fuck with people. You're a goddamned bully. Do you like that, Chris? Do you like that you're a bully? Because you shouldn't. You should feel terrible about the fact that you're a bully."

"All right!" he said. "Fine, I get it. I'm a fucking asshole. I lost my fucking job and now I have to live with my fucking parents again."

"Chris. You literally have no one but yourself to blame for that. You came after my friends with a fucking box cutter, dude. Like a goddamned psycho. But does that answer your question? We aren't compatible, dude."

"Fine, but why him?" Chris asked, pointing at Trent. Bea crossed her arms and shifted stance. "Come on, I know something's up between you two. He's such a fucking beta-"

"Hey fuck you, dude," Trent snapped, then immediately regretted it as Chris got back to his feet in a hurry.

Bea stepped a little to the right, so she was more directly in between them. "Okay, first of all, Chris, I will never date a guy who uses phrases like 'alpha male' and 'beta' unironically. Ever. Not even once. Not even a chance of it happening. Because that is fucking stupid. You know that isn't even, like, a thing, right? Also, secondly, and this seems somewhat more significant, but how is he a beta?! He's taken you on, um, how many times now? You pulled a fucking box cutter on him for basically no reason. Not an 'alpha' move."

"He pulled a knife on me," Chris growled.

"Yeah, because you made him. What the fuck was he supposed to do?"

"Fight me like a man."

"Oh, like you did with the box cutter?"

He growled in frustration, then sighed suddenly and sat back down. "It was stupid," he muttered. "I was so fucking angry."

"That's a really, really big one too, Chris. The anger. You have got to get that shit under control. I don't know why I'm indulging this any further but, to answer your question: Trent and I are a very good match. You seriously think I went to him just to piss you off?! I wasn't looking when I found him, all right? It just...happened. I know you saw me and probably thought 'wow she's hot I wanna fuck her' and that was grounds enough for you to want to date me, but it was never going to be a thing. Do you know why Trent is so great? He fucking listens to me. He fucking respects me. I promise, those two things will get you a lot farther than obsessively hitting the gym." Bea took a step back. "So, do you understand? That I won't tolerate you lying about me anymore?"

"Yeah, I got it," he muttered.

"And will you stop fucking with my friends? Like, seriously, stop fucking with Trent. And Mae. Just...leave us alone."

"I got it," he said, a little more forcefully.

A long moment of uncomfortable silence passed beneath the gray skies.

The wind blew. Somewhere nearby, someone honked their horn.

"We're done here," Bea said, and began walking away.

"Wait," Chris said, and got back to his feet.

Bea sighed and turned back around. "What?"

"I want to talk to him. Alone," he replied, pointing at Trent.

"Why?"

"...it's a guy conversation," he said finally.

Bea sighed explosively. "Jesus fucking Christ, a 'guy' conversation?! I'm so sick of this fucking 'it's a guy thing' shit!"

"I'll do it," Trent said.

She turned to look at him, partially confused. She then looked back at Chris after a moment, then growled and began walking back to the Jeep. "Whatever," she said.

Trent felt his anxiety spiking again as he walked across the front yard in front of the trailer, wondering where this was going. He came to stand about where Bea had been. Chris hesitated, then looked at her over Trent's shoulder. "Could you wait in the Jeep? It's a private conversation."

"Fucking seriously!?" she snapped.

"It's all right, Bea, I've got this," Trent said.

She yanked the door open. "Whatever." Then she paused. "Chris, if you try anything, I mean anything, just know that I've got a concealed carry permit, a pistol that is loaded with the safety off, and I know how to use it. Understand?"

"I got it," he replied, looking a little shaken by that.

Trent said nothing as she slammed the door.

"So...what is it?" Trent asked.

Chris seemed not to know what to say for a few seconds, scowling, not quite looking at Trent. Suddenly, he blurted out, "What's so fucking great about you?"

"What?" Trent replied. "What do you mean?"

"You're dating that fucking weird psycho, that Borowski chick-"

"I'd be careful about how I talked about her if I were you," Trent said.

Chris's scowl turned into a sneer and he made a visible effort to contain himself. "Fine, whatever, jerk-off. You're dating her, and you hooked up with my-ugh, God-my sister, and now Bea, too!? What the fuck makes you so special? I'm pretty sure I could literally bench you. Is it money? Or are you just fucking hung? Because I'm fucking jacked and hung and she fucking went to you of all fucking people instead of me."

Trent considered how to handle this for a moment. Mostly he wanted to just tell Chris to fuck off and leave him with that, but as much of a goddamned stupid asshole as he was, even after everything that had happened, there was some part of Trent that felt some level of empathy. Because he had been there before. Honestly, he'd been there most of his life, feeling like a goddamned loser because no one really wanted to hook up with him.

That hurt. But how much worse would it hurt if you had the advantages society told you you were supposed to be chasing, and you still were getting rejected?

"I'll tell you, but I don't think you want the answer," he said finally.

Chris sighed and rolled his eyes. "What, are you gonna tell me you've got a bigger dick?"

"No. Fuck's sake. Two things, okay? Two things. First: luck. I got lucky. That's what some of it was, but the second thing is way more important, and that's the thing: Bea told you everything you needed to hear. And you didn't fucking listen. Because she's a girl. You don't respect women. I heard that conversation you had with Claire. You have no fucking respect for her at all. How would you like it if I just walked up into your house, started telling you how much of a loser you are while at the same time demanding money? Are you fucking kidding me? I don't know what fucking 'pro bro pick up guides' you've been reading, or what fucking douchebag influencer you're watching on YouTube, but stop listening to them. Bea said it all. My 'secret', what's 'so special' about me? Literally that I'm fucking kind to them, and give a shit about them, and listen, and I don't flip my shit about things. You can't just douchebag your way out of problems."

Chris had crossed his arms and was scowling worse, not quite looking at him, which Trent found interesting. All of this was interesting, in an incredibly bizarre way.

"So does that answer your question?" he asked.

"I guess so," Chris replied.

"Okay then. I'm hoping we can say 'goodbye' on at least neutral terms. Believe it or not, I don't fucking want to fight you. I don't want to fuck your life up. I could have. I really could have. I know the Chief of Police, and you definitely committed a crime back at the Pickaxe. A serious one. Also, did you stop and think of what the hell would happen if you actually had stabbed one of us? We might have fucking died, and then where would you be? In fucking prison."

"I know," he muttered.

"So, neutral goodbye then? No more bullshit?"

"Yeah, fine. No more bullshit," Chris replied.

"Okay then." Trent began to turn away, but Chris spoke up again.

"Wait."

"What?"

"I got...one more question."

Trent turned fully back to face him, now even more curious. "Okay…"

"What should I...do?" he muttered.

"You're seriously asking me?"

"Yes, asshole! I'm asking you. I mean, you're hooking up with chicks, so obviously something you're doing is working. Something in my head is telling me I'd be a moron not to ask."

"Shit," Trent muttered. "I don't know...stop being an asshole? I know that sounds like I'm being a fucking asshole, but seriously: stop being an asshole. Maybe try to find a therapist and work on your anger issues. Because getting pissed enough to pull a box cutter is, like, dangerously angry. Just...focus on yourself for now, and being less of a jerk, and just...chill out. Smoke some weed or something every now and then."

"What about a girlfriend?"

This was by far the most surreal conversation he'd ever had, which was saying something, given all the ones he'd had with Mae.

For a moment, he was genuinely conflicted. Chris really struck him as the kind of person who would be abusive, or at the very least sorely neglectful, and he probably had been. Why help someone like that? On the other hand, this could be the one, shining moment where there was a chance that he might hear something that planted a seed in his head and finally got him to change for the better. Plus, given what he knew about relationships, he was positive that someone would date him, because for some women, a car, a job, and muscles was more than enough to warrant dating a dude. So maybe there was a chance he could help whoever that was going to be in the future.

"Tell me something," he replied finally, "you've got guy friends, right?"

Chris sighed heavily. "I'm not fucking gay, dude."

"What? That wasn't where I was going at all. Just-do you or don't you have any fucking friends?"

"Yes! I have friends that are guys!" he snapped.

"Would you ever treat them the way you treated Claire? Would you ever just walk up into their place demanding gas money as they were telling you to fuck off, they were busy?"

"No," he replied, "that's disrespectful. And I wouldn't let them disrespect me like that either."

"So why is it okay to disrespect Claire like that? Why was it okay to disrespect Bea like that?" Trent replied.

"They're…" He hesitated.

"Were you gonna say, 'they're just chicks'? If so, that's the biggest piece of advice I can give. Stop thinking of women as 'just chicks'. And the only real other piece I have for you, and this is super important, is if a woman says no, for any reason, fucking listen. Don't get pissed, don't keep pushing, just say 'okay', and fuck off. You know how everyone says women can smell desperation and react poorly to it? Trust me, they react a lot worse to anger...and one last thing. The whole 'alpha beta' thing is the cringiest shit in the world. Trust me, most women hear that and just immediately lose respect. So...yeah. Now, I think we've indulged you enough, and this is a really weird conversation, given what's happened between us, so I'm gonna leave on that note."

"Yeah," Chris said, and didn't say anything else.

Trent walked back to the Jeep.