Chapter Three
Chloe always had a tendency for perfection; a certain need for all things to go as smoothly as possible. If she was late for a class, it bugged her. Not just in a small manner, she didn't brush it off afterwards and merely scold herself while making a mental note of not taking too long with lunch before class.
It would stay on her mind; it would linger in the depths of her subconscious until another act happens to play out. Then if she accidentally made yet another dreaded mistake, the previous blunder would be replaced with the current one.
Chloe always strives for perfection in everything she does. And that's why, in this very moment, she is trudging back to her car, on the verge of tears and maybe a little anger due to still not being able to take psychology and still having to take literature 101 when she personally isn't required to.
Chloes body sinks down into the front seat of her silver run down 2010 Toyota Corolla. Her eyes fixate on the black dashboard that holds the built in radio and sports two - as a matter of fact, broken - cup holders. She can hear a familiar tune buzzing around, but the volume of the radio is too low to decipher the exact harmony.
The music is in fact inaudible and Chloe isn't keen on it, but since it started out low, it must stay low.
She makes sure that everything seems to be in place - the broken cup holders have to have the prongs sticking inwards not outwards and if not then it's out of place and defective.
Her hands feel clammy, wet almost. She clasps them together, and then realizes the feeling is less than pleasant so she unclasps them. She tries it again after wiping her palms down her jean covered thighs, because maybe if she waits a moment, the damp feeling will subside. But it isn't. She tries three more times before she gives up and decides to set them on the steering wheel.
Then suddenly Chloe hears her phone ringing in a sharp crescendo. She reaches out with her right hand as she keeps the left loosely holding the wheel; she grabs her school bag and rummages through it. She successfully obtains her device and picks it up, noticing it's her mom.
"Hi, mom, no...no…I'm fine…Oh…"
And then Chloe remembers that it's Friday, that she is supposed to go with her parents to one of their little get together, and that she is indeed late for said get together. She huffs, and then narrows her eyes at the stupid people who are in charge of classes who made her wait two hours after her class just to turn her hopes of taking psychology down.
"I'm leaving school now. I'm not feeling too well; I'm just going to go home." Chloe lets out a relieved breath as her mom hangs up after saying goodbye. She turns the car on begins to drive away from the campus parking lot when she notices that there's a dose of added traffic on the over pass into town. After what seemed like forever (in reality she only sat in the line of cars for five minutes) she was able to successfully leave the off ramp and weave into one of the smaller town streets.
Chloe eventually pulls up into her home driveway. She gets out and when she opens the front door she sighs contently as nothing can be heard within the home.
The quietness is very much appreciated.
Chloe walks into the kitchen and sets her bag on the counter off to the side, making sure there is about an inch of space between her bag and the wall. She decides on making some tea. Since she isn't very confident in using a kettle, she fills up a mug with water and sticks it into the microwave and punches in two minutes and forty-five seconds and presses, 'start'.
The green illuminated numbers shining into her eyes begin to dwindle and as the timer hit the one minute mark, the doorbell rings. Chloe continues to stand in front of the microwave until the timer is finished, she takes the cup out and set the water on the counter.
She isn't sure if she should continue making the tea, or see who is at the door.
Then the sound of chimes begin again so Chloe crosses her arms and walks towards the front door, not seeing anyone through the peephole, she slightly frowns, but opens the door anyway.
Beca.
"Hi."
"Hi." Chloe smiles, a bit surprised, she gently laughs as she watches Beca sway on her heels. She notices the small brunette has a brown paper bag in her left hand, and a clear container filled with what looks like chicken broth in her right hand. As if Beca is reading Chloes mind, she offers the contents in her hands, bringing them forward into Chloes reach.
"What's this for?" Her mind is still on her tea, though she peers into the paper bag to see a box of water crackers and a bottle of apple juice.
"I figured that since you helped me with my nose the other day that I should do something in return, so I brought you soup and crackers since you're sick."
"How did you know about that?"
Beca blushes. "Well… I- when your parents got to my house I um, I went downstairs to see if you were with them and when you weren't your mom told me you didn't feel well and then she told me you were at home, so then I asked where you guys lived… I'm not like, a stalker, I swear-I just decided to bring you some food."
Chloes face softens as she smiles at Beca, the tea slipping further and further away from her mind. "That's really sweet of you. How did you get here, anyway? I didn't think you could drive?"
"…I walked."
Chloes mouth falls. "You walked?"
Beca lightly shrugs and runs her hands into her jean pockets while looking down. To try and avoid questioning, she says, "When I used to get sick, my grandma would make me soup and crush up crackers and put them in with the soup but I wasn't sure if you liked that, so I just brought them in a bag. And she always got me apple juice. I hope you like apple juice, if not that's fine, but-"
"-I like apple juice." Chloe states and Becas neck has a now red tint that is creeping up into her cheeks. "You really walked?"
Beca nods.
Chloe has a minuscule smile creeping onto her lips, and before she could say anything, Beca begins to walk backwards.
"Well I'm just going to go then."
Chloe lightly shakes her head and continues to sport the tiny smile. "Come inside."
"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude."
"Don't be silly, you brought me this, we can share."
Beca nods.
Chloe ushers Beca inside. The redhead leads them into the kitchen. She sets the contents in her hands down, and spots her tea. It's silent. And it not awkward, but it's not content. It's just there. Kind of like a liaison of silences, because even though no words are being spoken, everything is made clear. Beca doesn't know what to say, and Chloe is too busy internally smiling at Becas sweet gesture to even think of anything to say.
"How do you feel?" Beca stands still near the pantry adjacent to the counter as she watches Chloe open the soup container.
Chloe successfully pries the container open and takes the crackers out of the brown bag along with the juice. She bites her lip at the question. "I'm feeling better."
It was true, even though she wasn't sick per se, she didn't have the best day with not getting her desired classes. And the fact that Beca had brought her food, and seemed to care so much about how she felt, cheered her up.
"Good. That's good."
"Do you want some?"
"It's for you." Beca insists.
"I can share." Chloe states. "Do you want my tea? I would've made more if I knew you were coming."
Beca shakes her head. "Just eat the soup."
Chloe laughs. "Fine." she decides to take a spoonful of soup, she notices that it is still steaming (she wonders how quickly Beca brought her the food because surely it should at least be cooled down by now) so she takes a weary sip and then hums in delight. "Where is this from?"
"This deli that's downtown. The soup is better than the sandwiches."
Chloe halts her motions, she looks up at Beca and she isn't sure if she should smile or frown so she keeps her face neutral and Beca looks at her nervously. Beca went downtown, which is one mile from Chloes house, not to mention the fact that Beca lives half a mile from downtown, so in total, she had walked a mile and a half just to buy her soup.
"It's good, isn't it?" Beca asks with a slight nervous tone. She didn't want Chloe to fuss over this, she didn't mind walking, she actually liked going for long walks.
Chloe nods forcefully and takes another spoonful into her mouth. "It's really good."
Beca inches over to one of the bar stools sitting across from the counter. She wearily sits down and clasps her hands together. She notices the said tea and begins to sip on it absently. She can't help but notice that Chloe seems to really be enjoying the soup, seeing as it's three fourths of the way empty and all the crackers are gone, scattered crumbs covering the top of Chloes long sleeve blue striped shirt as the juice sits untouched.
"So, you wanted to see me, huh?" Chloe sips the juice and then sets it down on the counter, smiling knowingly. She thumbs the cap as she watches Beca blush for what seemed to be the tenth time in the last ten minutes. She becomes impressed with how quickly the brunette composes herself.
"Don't flatter yourself."
Chloe chuckles and cleans up the remnants of food dispersed along the counter top.
"Your nose is… yellow."
Beca smirks and animatedly puffs out her chest. "Thanks for noticing."
Chloe walks around the offending counter top and sits down on the bar stool next to Beca, slightly smiling as she feels Becas eyes stay with her.
"It looks much better." Chloe reassures.
"It doesn't hurt as much." Beca says.
"So, how was the first week of school?" Chloe asks, her eyes lingering on Becas nose. There were still some cuts, but Chloe was right about the bruising going down.
Beca shrugs. "It was school."
"I get it, have you made any friends? Or acquaintances, I guess?"
"Some kids asked me to hang out tonight, but…"
"And you're here instead?" Chloe asks, turning towards Beca.
Chloe can see Beca's slightly struggling with coming up with her next sentence, so she simply waits patiently, observing the intense furrow of Becas eyebrows and the new lines creasing her forehead.
"I did for a few hours right after school, but they wanted to drink… and I-I'm not into that." Beca sighs. "I sound like a total loser, but I hate drinking."
Chloe picks her hand up that's sitting on her own leg; she almost sets it on top of Becas. She doesn't know what's stopping her, she had done it once before. But for some reason, she can't seem to do it, so she sets its back down and tilts her head down to match Becas.
"I don't think you're a loser, very different from Stacie, but not a loser."
Beca smiles awkwardly and slumps her shoulders forward. "It um, my mom was- is, still is an alcoholic." she mumbles.
Chloe couldn't help herself. Beca seemed so timid and worried about her words, and so much smaller than usual. Not just in appearance, but demeanor. She set her left hand on top of Becas right one.
"I think that's pretty brave." Chloe says gently. She squeezes Becas hand. "You know the consequences if things get out of hand and most teenagers don't do what you do when offered to drink."
"Thanks."
"Can I ask you a question?"
Beca nods and Chloe notices how Beca keeps her eyes glued to their overlapping hands.
Chloe didn't want to be rude, or scare her, or say something inappropriate. But she wanted to know Beca, she wanted to be friends with her, and most of all, she wanted to help her. She could just sense Beca had a few problems.
"Who did you live with before moving here?"
"I lived with my grandma." Beca rushes out. She takes a deep breath before closing her eyes in and when she opens them she looks away from Chloes intense look. "If I tell you all this, you-you have to listen. Don't interrupt because it will just make it harder. And I don't go around telling people this stuff, so you better feel pretty damn special."
Chloe agrees, suddenly worried of what was to come. She lets Beca take her time with forming her words, and when she sees Beca reluctantly open her mouth and a tiny huff fall out; she lets her know everything is perfectly fine with another small hand squeeze.
"I moved here because my grandma had to move into a care facility and I didn't have anyone else to live with. My mom, like I said, is an alcoholic and I can't live with her due to some court thing… I'm supposed to start seeing her once a month. And when I was ten she picked me up from school drunk and all this stuff happened and-and I had to go live with my grandma because well, my dad passed away a long, long time ago. But it's not a big deal, okay? I don't want you to treat me any differently now that you know all this. Just, please, please don't. Because people always do that when they find this stuff out, they treat me like some special case or something, and-and I like being your friend or whatever."
Chloe smirks. "Or whatever?"
"I mean, I don't know if were friends or what?" Beca fumbles.
"We could be friends." Chloe nonchalantly says.
It's silent for a moment before Chloe says, "Beca," gently as she retracts her own hand, which makes Beca look up.
"I know we aren't close, or really good friends, or anything really, but you can talk to me about whatever you want. I'm a good listener."
Beca laughs lightly. "Maybe one day I'll tell you all about the miraculous life of Beca Mitchell."
And so Chloe merely nods as the overwhelming urge to make that one day, actually become a real day.