Thank you for all of the support last chapter!

Chapter 10

Beca didn't sleep a wink last night. Much to her delight, it had nothing to do with Macy, but everything to do with the fact that she couldn't get Chloe's face out of her brain. She tried – God she tried – so hard to stop thinking about the redhead. But every time her mind drifted off, she was stuck rewatching the redhead's pity-ridden expression, as she continuously came to the realization that she had most likely lost the only friend that she really had at Barden.

She did everything in her power to act normal around her sister for the rest of Sunday afternoon, leading into the night. Beca had managed to compose herself on the way to find Macy at the football game, and, as much as she hated to pull her away from where she was clearly having a good time with Benji, they left with very little discussion about why there was still a second half of the game to be played.

When they got back to Jack's, Beca claimed that she had homework to finish, and spent the afternoon staring at her textbook and answering a few math questions that popped up as Macy started her own. There wasn't much conversation that passed between them – with the exception of Macy telling her about everything she and Benji had done at the game. Beca was grateful for that because she could focus all of her attention on her little sister and try and forget about her own afternoon. Apparently, her plan seemed to work, because Macy either didn't notice anything was off with Beca, or she just didn't say anything.

Beca's avoidance strategy was great until Macy went to bed, and until they showed up at school on Monday morning, Beca wishing that Mrs. Abernathy hadn't thought to put her in practically all of Chloe's classes. Now, because she couldn't bring herself to sit around waiting for Chloe to make an appearance, Beca finds herself sitting in one of the bathroom stalls about twenty minutes into first period. Figuring that Chloe has already told Aubrey and Stacie, Beca had reasoned that, if she were to show up to Mr. Harrington's room in the middle of class, she can at least avoid a little bit of discussion around the subject. Then, when the bell rings, she can just run to her next class.

It's foolproof.

Beca clicks the button on the side of her phone, the lock screen lighting up to reveal the time - 7:59. There are only twenty minutes before first period ends, and her heart races as she considers leaving the safety of the bathroom. But, as she's contemplating whether or not to face the seniors, Beca's eyes drift to her lock screen. CR had taken the picture of her and Macy a few months ago during one of Beca's shifts. Macy was sitting at her spot on the counter with a plate of French fries in front of her, and Beca was standing behind her, reaching over her shoulder to steal one. Just as her fingers had touched one of the fries, CR snapped the picture: Macy looking accusatorily up at Beca, and Beca grinning down at her as she was caught in the act.

She smiles softly to herself. She doesn't need Chloe. She doesn't need anyone at Barden, really. She has Macy and that's all that matters.

Beca pushes the door to the stall open with her shoulder, slipping her phone back in her bag as she does so, and starts to make her way to English with a newfound sense of confidence. That confidence wavers slightly as she brings her fist to the door, knocking loud enough to be heard over her teacher's talking.

It takes a moment before the door swings open, some kid whose name she still doesn't know letting her into the classroom. She walks by him, internally chastising herself for taking a brief glimpse at where Chloe and her friends are sitting and staring at her, before bringing her gaze back down to the floor she's walking across.

"Nice of you to join us, Miss Mitchell."

Beca doesn't bother making eye contact with her teacher, knowing full well that if she does, she's going to end up allowing her attention to drift over to Chloe, and she definitely doesn't want that. "Sorry."

Mr. Harrington barely acknowledges her apology and goes back to discussing the new book they're going to be reading, a copy of the paperback already on her desk. She sinks low in her seat, knowing that she has a pair of piercing blue eyes watching her.

Chloe can't even keep herself from watching Beca hurry into the classroom with her head bent towards the floor. When she came into the room herself, expecting to see Beca already in her seat like she always is, her first thought was that she was just late. But, as the morning went on and homeroom quickly turned to first period and Beca still hadn't come in, Chloe couldn't help but believe that the reason why Beca wasn't in school, was because of her.

Her relief of Beca's presence quickly diminishes, though, as Chloe realizes that Beca is making a very conscious effort not to look in her direction. She follows Beca's movements, trying her best not to completely break down at how betrayed her friend looks. Honestly, with the way she came into the room, Chloe is kind of surprised that Beca doesn't sit in another seat.

As much as Chloe tries to pay attention to the rest of Mr. Harrington's lesson, she can't take her eyes off of Beca, everything that she and her mother discussed last night taking precedence over an introduction to The Scarlet Letter. She wants to reach out and wrap her arms around the brunette, to beg for her forgiveness and promise her that what she found out yesterday changes absolutely nothing, but Chloe holds back. She's going to get Beca to talk to her, whether she likes it or not. Screw boundaries. Chloe made a mistake and she's not going to let it ruin the relationship that she's started forming with Beca.

Beca keeps her stare focused on Mr. Harrington, staying as stiff as a board so as not to let her eyes wander to the redhead sitting next to her. At this point, she isn't even sure if Aubrey and Stacie are doing the same, and she is trying her best not to care. So, what if they know, she reminds herself, let them judge and then they can go back to their perfect lives where their biggest worries consist of what pair of shoes they're going to put on in the morning.

The rest of class drags on, none of the twelfth-graders really paying attention, but Beca, Chloe, Stacie, and Aubrey least of all. Both Stacie and Aubrey know that something happened at the football field when they went to go to the bathroom – the way Chloe was acting when she finally found them being a big enough tell. But, much to their surprise, their best friend hadn't really said anything. She was even quieter this morning, barely muttering more than a few words, so the two other seniors are anxious to see what happens now that Beca is in class.

When the bell rings, the same flurry of motion that typically occurs at dismissal passes over the classroom. This time, though, Beca doesn't take her time to pack up. She grabs her book from the desk, uses her other hand to lift her backpack up onto her shoulder, and practically runs out of the classroom, not leaving any space for conversation.

Chloe, though, is almost as fast, if not faster. Half expecting Beca's reaction (and half wishing that the brunette wasn't going to continue avoiding her), Chloe, too, gathers her things rather quickly and follows Beca's path out of the room. She ignores the calls from her friends, looking both ways down the hallway, before she sees Beca heading in the direction of their Calc class, scooping her chestnut curls out from where they've become trapped between her back and her bag.

"Beca!"

Beca ignores Chloe's calls, willing her legs to move faster. Why does she have to be so short?

Pushing a few people out of the way, Chloe starts to pick up the pace, her speed walking turning into a slight jog as she calls out again, "Beca, please wait!"

Beca hangs her head, trying to ignore the looks of curiosity coming from the other students at Barden, before she feels a hand on her shoulder, using all of its strength to turn her around. As she was expecting, she's left standing face to face with a slightly breathless Chloe Beale, her hand never once leaving Beca's shoulder. "Can we talk?"

Beca tries to shrug off Chloe's hold, becoming mildly frustrated when she realizes that her hand is practically glued to Beca's backpack strap. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Yes, there is. I need to talk to you. Please." Her eyes are practically begging Beca to listen to her.

"I have to go to class, Chloe."

When Beca tries again to walk away from the redhead, Chloe just moves her hand from Beca's shoulder to her wrist, causing Beca to freeze once more. "Please. Just give me ten minutes. That's all I need."

With the watchful eyes of Barden's high schoolers still focusing intently on their conversation, Beca can't help but sigh. She's not going to get out of this without giving Chloe what she wants, and she certainly doesn't want to continue making a giant scene in the middle of the hallway. So, Beca just gives Chloe a slight nod, allowing herself to be pulled down the hallway towards an empty conference room, the redhead closing the door behind them and leading the pair away from the windows as soon as they're inside.

Beca leans up against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest as Chloe stands in front of her, trying to find the courage to start talking.

"I'm sorry." It doesn't come out as sentimental as she had been hoping for, in fact, Chloe kind of blurts it out, which is why she isn't really surprised by the slight quirk in Beca's eyebrow. "I mean, about yesterday. I feel really bad about how we left things and I'm really, truly, sorry."

Beca grips the straps of her backpack, the nervous energy radiating off of Chloe and filling the room. She settles on the same answer that she gave her yesterday. "It's fine, Chloe."

"No, no it's not and I really wish you would stop saying that it is." Chloe pushes a red curl behind her ear, searching Beca's face for any sort of recognition or acceptance of her words. "You told me something really personal about yourself after I practically forced you to, and I could barely come up with something to say in return. It was a really messed up thing for me to do, and you didn't deserve that."

Beca eyes Chloe wearily. She isn't exactly sure what she was expecting when Chloe had yanked her into the conference room, but this certainly isn't it. Sure, she's experienced those types of reactions before – and, yes, she was hurt when Chloe became one of them – but she's never had anyone apologize for it. Well, until now. "Chloe…"

Chloe cuts her off. "I messed up. I know I did. When you told me that you were in foster care, it threw me for a loop. Not that it's any excuse, but I was more confused than anything and I was trying to wrap my mind around the whole thing. Never, in a million years, though, would it change what I think about you and the fact that we're friends."

It takes everything in Beca not to let her jaw drop to the floor, not really believing her ears. After years of people telling you that you're not really worth their time, it gets kind of hard to believe when someone says something different. Especially when that someone is Chloe Beale. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Beca, I couldn't care less about the fact that you're in foster care." Chloe's face softens, the back of her throat starting to burn. "And I'm even more sorry that I ever made you feel like I did."

Beca tentatively slides down the wall, crossing her legs on the carpet with a slight smile appearing on her face when Chloe joins her on the ground. "People typically get weirded out when they hear about it. Usually, they run." It's happened more often than not, and the few people that did stick around still ended up hurting Beca in the end.

Chloe lowers her voice, her heart breaking as she watches Beca get quieter, averting her gaze and playing with the bracelets on her wrist. "Is that why you didn't want to tell us?"

Beca shrugs. "It's not something I really like talking about. I'm sure it would've come up eventually. It normally does."

Chloe stretches her legs out, her shoes gently bumping against Beca's. "Does anyone else know?"

"Macy is whole-heartedly aware of the situation." A small smirk appears on Beca's lip as the quip comes out, and Chloe can't help but feel relieved that she's starting to return to the Beca she's begun to know and love. "I'm not sure of the exact number. My boss at Fig's, Cynthia Rose, knows. We've been friends for a while… Mrs. Abernathy knows and I'm sure she's told our teachers. But, other than that, you guys should be the only other ones."

Chloe shakes her head, instantly correcting Beca. "I didn't tell Stacie or Aubrey."

Beca raises her gaze, meeting Chloe's eyes in disbelief. "You didn't?"

"No, of course not." It amazes her that Beca would even think she would betray her trust like that. "And I'm not going to. It's up to you when you want to tell people, and I'm not going to try and force you to tell them before you're ready."

Still sort of speechless, Beca settles on a, "Thanks, Chloe."

The two teens fall into a comfortable silence; Beca feeling as though a weight has been lifted off her shoulders, and Chloe feeling immensely grateful – and relieved – that Beca seems to have forgiven her. She doesn't know what she would have done if she had to sit in classes with Beca for the rest of her senior year without being able to talk with her.

"You said you were confused."

Beca is the first one to break the silence, causing Chloe to look away from where her gaze has landed on the carpet in front of her, back up to the brunette. "What?"

"Earlier. You said that when I told you, you were more confused than anything. What were you confused about?" Beca knows that Chloe has more questions; everyone always does. By the way Chloe is biting her lip and still not really looking at her, it's clear that those questions are still very much at the forefront of her mind. As much as Beca doesn't want to talk about it, she knows that it's a big deal that Chloe practically kidnapped her to apologize. It's not fair to her if Beca refuses to even entertain the idea of discussing some of the things on Chloe's mind.

"Oh, um…" Chloe tries her best to word her thoughts in the best way possible. "I don't know, I've never really met anyone in the foster care system before and I didn't really know much about it."

Chloe's use of the past tense doesn't go unnoticed by Beca. "Didn't?"

Heat rises to Chloe's cheeks. "I may or may not have spent the rest of yesterday afternoon at home, knee-deep in Google trying to find out as much as I could." She buries her face in her hands, trying to hide from Beca's navy blue orbs. "God, that's so embarrassing. I feel like such a weirdo."

"No, you're not. That's uh... that's really sweet." Beca's read all of the statistics and fast facts that are typically used to entice people into becoming licensed foster parents – the pamphlets are all over the DCF office. She isn't exactly sure what Chloe read, but it amazes her that she even tried.

Chloe continues to play with a thread on the carpet, and Beca can practically see the wheels turning in her head. "You can ask, it's okay."

The redhead looks up as though she's been caught, asking, for what feels like the millionth time in this conversation, "What?"

Beca's smile widens slightly. "Ask whatever you're trying to convince yourself not to ask me. It's okay."

How Beca knows that Chloe has about a thousand questions on her mind, Chloe isn't really sure. She's been trying to keep them to herself, not wanting to make Beca uncomfortable or push her too far. Plus, it's not like it's really her business anyways. Most of all, Chloe just wants to make sure that Beca feels safe – whether it be at her foster home or at school; which is why she finally settles on, "So, Jack really isn't some creepy old man hitting on teenage girls at a high school football game?"

Beca lets out a laugh. "I promise that Jack is not some creepy old man trying to hit on us. It was kind of funny that that's what you guys all went to, though."

Although there's a smile on Chloe's face, it doesn't quite meet her eyes. "How long have you lived with him?"

Beca grows serious again, running a hand over her hair and blowing out a puff of air from her mouth. "We moved in on the Sunday before we started here, so, four weeks, I think?"

Chloe's heart sinks deeper in her chest. She can't imagine moving in with a complete stranger and just dealing with it. "Why did you have to move? Did something happen with your other foster parents?" Beca's face pales, suddenly becoming very interested in the ground in front of her, with Chloe instantly realizing that she shouldn't have asked that question. "Oh God, I'm so sorry, you don't have to answer that."

Forcing a small smile on her face, Beca tries to laugh it off, "It's okay. It's just not um… it's not a happy story."

Instead of apologizing profusely – which is what Chloe wants to do, but she also doesn't want Beca to feel obligated to tell her – Chloe just calms herself down, before meeting Beca's gaze once more. "I'm really glad you told me."

This time, Beca doesn't even have to try to be genuine. "Me too."

"And then she just said that she was happy that I had told her, and we went back to class." Tucked in the corner of the back counter at Fig's, far enough away so that Macy can't hear, but still in the dining room so that they can keep an eye on their customers. "I don't know. It was really strange."

CR places a wrapping around the bundle of silverware that Beca hands over to her. "I still can't believe that you told her so soon."

"Trust me, I didn't want to." Beca pulls another knife from the clean bucket, "If I hadn't, they probably would've called the cops on Jack and had him arrested for sexual harassment."

CR grins, letting out a chuckle, "Oh, that's right. I forgot about that part of the story." She glances behind them, intending to briefly check the dining room to make sure no one needs anything, but her eyes land on Beca's little sister instead. "Does Macy know you told her?"

Beca shakes her head. "Not yet. I'm still trying to convince myself that it's not a horrible thing that Chloe knows." It was a little slow at first, but as the day continued (and Aubrey and Stacie stopped staring at her, waiting to figure out what was going on), things gradually began to return to normal. Beca and Chloe had talked like they had been during classes, and the four seniors had an amicable lunch. The only difference being, that now both Chloe and Beca are keeping a secret from the other two girls.

"Why would it be a horrible thing? If anything, wouldn't it make you guys closer?"

Beca shrugs, "Well, for one, she's supposedly going to keep it a secret from her two best friends, and I already know that's going to end up blowing up in either her face or mine."

CR quickly considers this. Yeah, that's a pretty good reason.

"And I also just don't like people knowing. It's not like I can control who they tell or what they do with the information. For all I know, she's printing it on a four-by-six leaflet that she's going to hand out at school tomorrow. Then, the entire high school will know, and it will undoubtedly get to the middle school, and then Macy is going to have to deal with the fallout of my actions and –"

"Beca, do you really think that Red is going to tell the entire school about your home life? I mean, I know you're so anti-letting-people-in, but maybe cut her a little slack?"

Beca rolls her eyes – both at CR's new nickname for Chloe, which she has been calling her since seeing her when they came to Fig's, and at the amount of truth CR's statement holds. Beca is almost ninety percent positive that Chloe would never do anything like that, but it all has to do with the loss of control over the situation that Beca so desperately needs to be comfortable. Control equals protection.

If she loses the control, she makes herself, and, more importantly, Macy, vulnerable to being hurt. It's happened before and she knows that it can – and most likely will – happen again.

Flashback: Last September

Beca grips the edges of her red, plastic tray, looking out over the cafeteria as she exits the lunch line. Lunch seriously has to be the worst time of day for someone starting at a new school. Especially when that someone is Beca, who is about as anti-social as they come.

She does have to admit, though, that the timing of her arrival couldn't have been better. They moved in with Camille and Tyler about a little over a month ago at the end of July, giving them enough time to settle in before having to start school with everyone else in the district. More often than not, when Beca and Macy have to move, they end up moving in the middle of the school year and have to face the inevitable questions of why they're just then starting. It's annoying, and Beca is glad that this time around they won't have to worry about it. Sure, she's still gotten the signature looks of confusion, being the new person walking through the halls and all, but it could be worse.

Camille and Tyler, their new foster parents, seem nice enough so far. They allowed Beca to get a job about a week after moving in, and Beca quickly realized that she is going to have a blast working with her manager, Cynthia Rose. Camille is definitely more into the whole fostering gig, she instantly took to Macy, which Beca is grateful for. Tyler, on the other hand, seems slightly uninterested in the two girls, but Beca doesn't really care. At least they don't have the little twerps running around the house that their last placement did.

Beca's eyes land on a single, empty table tucked slightly in the corner of the cafeteria. The fluorescent lighting doesn't quite reach it, and even from where she's standing, Beca can see the array of chewed gum on the wall behind one of the chairs. Everyone seems to be avoiding it like the plague. It's perfect.

When she reaches the table, she takes the seat in the corner, given her a perfect vantage point to take in the cafeteria. Lincoln High seems to be a normal-sized high school, but there have to be at least two hundred other students in the cafeteria at this moment. The roar of the students is a combination of them talking about their new classes and discussing what happened during their summers. Beca is perfectly content on sitting on the outskirts of those conversations.

Picking up her fork, Beca starts to push around some of the pasta on the tray. It hardly looks edible, but Beca isn't about to complain. You go to bed hungry one too many times and you start to realize that you can eat anything.

"Well, you've done it now."

The voice is loud enough for Beca to hear over the loud volume of the cafeteria, but it's only because the source is standing a mere two feet away from where she's sitting at the table. She looks up at the girl, slowly chewing her food as she does so.

She's taller than Beca, but, then again, most people are. Her raven-colored hair is short, cropped just above her collar bone, with a few pieces dyed a royal blue underneath. From where Beca is sitting, she can see her light brown orbs, her eyelashes long around them. She wears a small smirk, her hands on her hips as she waits for Beca's answer.

Beca swallows the bite of her food. "Excuse me?"

The unnamed girl points at where Beca's hand is holding her fork. "You've eaten Lincoln's cafeteria food and you're sitting at the cursed lunch table. You're practically doomed for life."

Beca's eyebrow quirks upwards. She has no idea who this person is, but apparently, she's going to be having a conversation with her. "Is that so?"

The girl nods, pulling out the chair that's across from Beca and sitting down with a 'hmph.' She drags one of the other chairs closer to her, placing both of her feet on the seat, and leaning back, looking incredibly comfortable. "Sorry, I don't make the rules."

"No, of course not." Beca eyes her new visitor; she can't remember seeing her in any of her classes (and Beca is almost certain that she would've remembered this girl). "But apparently you don't follow them either."

This time, it's the other girl who lets the confusion cover her face. "What do you mean?"

Beca points at where she is sitting, lounging so effortlessly across two plastic cafeteria chairs. "I hate to break it to you, but you're sitting at the so-called 'cursed lunch table' now, too, so…"

Her expression doesn't change, the girl's face remaining totally expressionless as if she were watching a boring movie. "Damn. I guess we're both screwed."

A slow grin spreads across Beca's face. "Guess so."

The girl leans back, the chair she's sitting in starting to balance precariously on the two back legs, her eyes never once leaving Beca. "Well, if we're both going to die a slow and horrifying death, we might as well know each other's names."

The brunette shrugs. "Seems fair. I'm Beca."

The mystery girl finally returns Beca's smile. "Tara."

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