YOUR BED FEELS MORE LIKE HOME

BARDEN VALLEY, GA- 2004

It was late one Thursday evening when the telephone rang in the Mitchell residence. The family had just finished dinner. Anne was clearing the table and Beca was up in her room for the night. Warren, surprisingly home at this hour, was the first to make it to the phone.

The professor raised the phone to his ear, leaning over the island in the kitchen as he was greeted by yet another one of his daughter's teachers. He listened tiredly as the teacher expressed her concern for Beca's "lack of ambition".

"Yes, Miss Dooley…" Warren sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could already feel a headache coming on. "No, she didn't mention a project. When is it due?"

Anne tiptoed into the kitchen, curiously, setting some of the dishes down on the counter as she listened to her husband's end of the conversation. Warren had been acting suspicious lately and she couldn't help but wonder who was calling. She rolled up the sleeves of her blouse and began to 'wash dishes'. Her back was turned to her husband as she filled the sink with water.

"That long ago, huh?" Warren let his hand fall to the counter with a thud. This daughter of his was going to send him to an early grave. "I swear…this kid."

Anne could faintly make out a female's voice on the line. Who WAS that? Was it another teacher? Whoever it was, she had a lot to say. She didn't sound particularly pleased either…

Surely, Anne was just being paranoid. She began to scrub one of the plates from dinner, scrubbing so long she had almost forgotten she was eavesdropping until her husband spoke again.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry about that. I will have a talk with her, thank you...you too." The man placed the phone back on its receiver, irritation evident in his features.

"Another call from the school?" Anne questioned, keeping her attention on the dish in her hand.

"Yeah," Warren sighed again. "That kid just can't do right…"

Anne sighed uncomfortably. She rinsed the dish before drying it and placing it in the cupboard above the sink. "What'd she do?"

"She mouthed off to her teacher… AGAIN!" Warren explained incredulously. "She didn't do her homework, then she had the NERVE to mouth off and read one of her stupid magazines during class!"

Anne could see her husband's frustration and it was justified, but she had a bad feeling about the fact that he was starting towards the stairs when he looked as if he was moments from combusting. He needed to calm down before he decided to talk to Beca. Going to her when he was this angry would only cause an argument.

"Honey!" Anne called from the kitchen, stopping Warren in his tracks. "Maybe you shouldn't talk to her right this moment."

Warren turned to face the foot of the stairs, meeting his wife's gaze as she emerged from around the corner. "Why not?" He asked, growing more irritated.

"You just- maybe you should calm down first." Anne suggested. "You know how you two can get."

Warren's eyes narrowed as he processed his wife's words.

Beca's eyes narrowed as they darted between the display on the magazine and the two PC monitors on her desk. Only one monitor was working properly…she must have done something wrong. She ran a hand through her hair tiredly, before dropping to her knees to see if she had everything plugged in right.

BLAM!

She was interrupted by a loud bang as her door swung open and slammed into the wall. She stood, startled, only to realize it was her father marching towards her with what seemed to be his permanent expression these days.

"Thanks for knocking," She spat, turning her attention back to the PC unit.

"Why would I knock? It's not like you need the privacy to do homework, or I don't know, STUDY."

Beca snorted, only partially listening to him.

Warren slammed a fist down on the desk. "Rebeca, you'd better get up and look at me, or I swear-"

Beca stood again, adjusting one of the display cords on the second monitor. "What are you even on about, right now?"

"We just got a call from your teacher-"

"Yes!" Beca exclaimed as the windows logo appeared on the second monitor. It was finally working.

"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?" Warren barked. "This, right here…THIS is your problem!"

Beca blinked in response, finally realizing that this was a serious conversation and she was supposed to be participating in it. She finally turned to face Warren.

"Miss Dooley called to ask us if you mentioned having any trouble with your assignments. Then, she told me about the little show you put on when she asked you to turn one in the other day." His nostrils flared as he stepped closer to his daughter. "You'd better get your act together, and you'd better do it quickly. You have done nothing but embarrass your mother and I since we moved to this town, and we're not going to stand for it just because you're on another one of your little rebellious trips. All you have to do is regurgitate simple common knowledge."

"It's just so STUPID…all of it," Beca groaned,"I want to work with computers. I want to make music. THOSE are things I want to do. Why should I waste my time learning about the same fucking-"

"Language, Beca," Anne warned from the doorframe.

"-FREAKING material I learned in elementary and middle school," Beca huffed. "I could be learning about something I'm actually going to use like computer programming and sound engineering."

Anne cocked an eyebrow at her daughter's logic. She had a point, and she knew Beca was bright. She was learning, despite what Warren believed. Anne had seen her test grades. Never less than a 80. It was the homework and class assignments Beca just wouldn't do.

"If you're struggling with high school, 'what you want' might be a little beyond you, don't you think?"

"Warren," Anne pleaded as she stepped further into the room. "That's enough…"

"NO, I've been holding this in for a while and it's about time ONE of us said it." Warren said, ignoring his wife. "Beca, you need to WAKE UP. You are 17 years old with NO plan. You have straight D's. You are CONSTANTLY in detention…and the ONLY thing you care about is that stupid computer. It's a wonder you've managed to even make one friend…"

Beca's eyes stung as she turned towards her father. "You know what? Screw you!," She stood her ground. "I know what I want, and I know I'm not getting it in that old tired school."

Warren's fists clenched as his sides, "You are by far the most ungrateful child I have ever known. It's embarrassing,"

"Oh, and you're clearly the father of the year, right? …all fucking 3 hours of the week that you're actually here! Why don't you tell us what you're REALLY doing after school?"

"STOP IT! NOW!" Anne scolded the pair. This was getting out of hand. The way they were looking at each other, Anne feared Warren and Beca would actually exchange blows.

Beca was the first to look away, grabbing her book bag and shoving past her father towards the stairs.

"Beca!" Her mother followed her down the stairs. "Where are you going?"

"Chloe's," The teen mumbled, letting the front door slam shut behind her.

Beca and Chloe laid on Chloe's bed watching some silly reality show on MTV. Chloe loved those shows and she knew Beca secretly did too (even if she wouldn't admit it). When the show went to commercial, Chloe looked at her friend for the first time since she got there. The redhead's face softened as she turned to face Beca, reaching out to squeeze the hand on Beca's belly.. She could see the tension in her face…in her jaw…in the tightness of her lips…in the wrinkles of her brow…

Beca, sensing her best friend's eyes on her, turned and was met with sympathetic blue eyes.

"Another fight with your dad?" Chloe asked, already knowing. She had seen this face before.

Beca only nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment.

"What happened?" Chloe turned onto her side, scooting closer to the brunette as she propped up on one arm.

Beca shrugged, her eyes falling to her and Chloe's intertwined hands. "It doesn't matter…fuck that guy,"

Chloe frowned, disappointed by Beca's response. "Beca…He's your FATHER."

"Yeah, well…he doesn't act like it." Beca argued, turning onto her side to mirror Chloe's position. The redhead began to rub a thumb over Beca's knuckles, urging her to continue. "All he ever does is tell me how much of a fuck up I am…."

"You're not a fuck up," Chloe stopped her, unable to listen to the rest. She knew Warren wasn't particularly encouraging. "You're super smart and…you're creative. You're totally going to be like the next Bill Gates or something and I can't wait to brag to everyone how awesome and rich my best friend is,"

Beca cracked a smile at this, finally meeting Chloe's eyes again. She couldn't help but admire the twinkle in her bright eyes as she actually let herself imagine what she'd just said. She soon found herself admiring every feature of her friend's face…

The freckles of her cheeks…the arch of her copper brows…the slope of her nose…the definition of her jaw…her lips…

She wondered what it would feel like to kiss Chloe and suddenly found herself resisting the urge to lean in and find out. Where had that come from? This was CHLOE. Her best friend. Why was she feeling this way?

Beca let herself fall back on the bed with a sigh, looking at the pink hearts and stars on her friend's ceiling. Chloe smiled, admiring the brunette's profile briefly before closing the distance between them.

"I know what you need" She chirped, throwing her arm across Beca's waist.

Beca smirked, finding the redhead's playfulness contagious. She was already feeling lighter, the argument with her dad seeming less important. "Yeah? What's that?"

"You just need a good snugglin'. That's all." Chloe leaned down to peck Beca on the cheek before letting her head fall to the brunette's chest.

Beca smiled, letting her eyes close as she was enveloped in all things Chloe. The fluff of Chloe's sheets, the lingering strawberry scent of her body wash, the warmth of her body curled against Beca's…

Chloe noticed after a while that Beca's breathing had slowed and evened. With a smile, she sat up and reached towards the foot of the bed, pulling the blanket up over them as she settled against her friend's chest again.