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Chapter 88

Recreation

Jake

"I don't want to get on your nerves or make you feel like I'm supervising you!" Mom said after Becky's parents had driven off.

It was the answer to the question whether she would also spend her forced leave of absence here on the premises. After all, there were enough possibilities here to keep busy.

"Besides, now I finally have time to clean the house from top to bottom," she added further.

Of course! Doing nothing was not in Mom's blood.

"But stay out of my room!" I threatened seriously. Who knew what would fall victim to her decluttering! Besides, my mother didn't need to know how many condoms I had in my drawers. So, everything was settled.

Mom and Dad drove home, Carlisle to the hospital, and Esmé fixed up one of the guest rooms for us since Becky didn't want to be alone at Dad's house.

Wednesday was pretty quiet, and we walked hand in hand around the spacious grounds. At least until school was over and the resident vampires rolled in, taking turns keeping us company.

When it rained after dinner, we went to the underground garage with Rose. She was tinkering with her Aston Martin.

"Couldn't you have finished already?" I asked. After all, she had a lot of money for spare parts and equipment at her disposal, and on top of that, she was a vampire who could move at a significantly faster pace.

"Sure, I could. But who wants to?" she answered and pushed me backwards into the car.

"So, it's all about the tinkering at it for you," Becky noted.

Rosie stroked the hood in reverence and opened it.

"Some things take time," she said thoughtfully.

It sounded like it was a reference to something else.

Well. Simply Rose.

I didn't have to think long about what she might have meant. She told us under what circumstances she had become a vampire. She was raped by her fiancé, Royce King, and his friends. She believed and hoped she would die until Carlisle found her and gave her this new form of her existence.

I was speechless.

"In a wedding dress?" asked Becky, stunned but amused after Rose ended with her revenge.

"I was a little theatrical back then," Rose appeased bittersweetly, smirking.

I shook my head.

Rose was just amazing.

But her words also made us thoughtful.

How many women or girls actually experienced this misfortune in reality? I had once read about this, that it was suspected that the figure would be astronomical, because most cases were not reported and thus not statistically recorded. And usually the perpetrator was someone the victim knew in some way. An acquaintance or relative, a date, a teacher or coach. The husband on whom one was financially dependent. Or an ex-boyfriend, I thought bitterly.

I had been leaning against the car throughout the narrative, and Becky had seemingly unconsciously moved closer and closer to me.

If she had been sitting on a chair at the beginning, she was now standing directly in front of me.

I took her hand, squeezed it a bit and she leaned against me and looked up at me. Carefully I stroked over the temple with the bruise.

Never again would I allow anyone to lay a hand on my star! She was far too precious. But there was a reason Rosie had spoken of it.

"I know you just want to forget about what happened as soon as possible, Becky. But that's the wrong way. Believe me. I still see the images in front of me today and they make me shudder ... You can consistently avoid the memory and simply resume your life as if nothing had happened. You can believably tell yourself that it's over, and perhaps also that nothing actually happened ... But at some point the experiences will catch up with you again," Rose said gently but emphatically.

"Carlisle also said that you should not hide from these memories, but consciously face them," I added hesitantly.

We had been talking all afternoon, but I couldn't get her - as Carlisle and Dad had advised me - to talk about what had happened. When she had told me about it yesterday at the hospital, it had been the only time she had even brought up the rape.

Her blue sapphires looked at me for a long time, but then Becky nodded.

"So, to a therapist ," she stated, sighing in frustration.

I smirked.

She merely conceded defeat, but was not convinced.

"I didn't say that!" insisted Rosalie. "You should talk to someone about all of this, but with whom, of course, is entirely up to you. A female friend. Your mother. Your boyfriend? A psychologist, a stranger, has both advantages and disadvantages. They are trained accordingly and sometimes have many years of experience. He - or she - can meet you without reservation and without forming an opinion about you in advance and can probably also best assist and help you on an emotional level. On the other hand, they don't know you and don't know what makes you tick ..." Rose calmly submitted her opinion on the matter.

I agreed with her. There was certainly a good reason why relationships between doctors and patients were forbidden. Especially in the case of therapists, as they gained a very deep insight into the patient's emotional life. Subliminal influence, exploitation of protégés, emotional dependence. Things like that went through my head. On the other hand, a friend was aware of their private life, which could certainly not be completely unimportant.

Leah's appearance steered the conversation to more lighthearted topics. She brought some clothes for Becky and me for the next few days.

The rest of the evening we spent together at the bowling alley in the house.

Emmett bet on everything and with everyone and tried some trick throws.

Once he flew with the ball down half the lane.

It was probably intentional. Vampires could not be that clumsy.

It was definitely a fun evening with a hell of a lot of laughs.

I even choked from laughing while drinking and didn't stop coughing for ages.

The breakfast table the next morning made me smirk.

Buns, fruit, and coffee. Normal.

Between our plates there was a package of Mallomars (1).

"S'mores!" chuckled Becky enthusiastically, cut the rolls apart, put a Mallomars on the bottom half, pressed the top halves of the rolls on it, and we began to eat.

"Stop that!" I cursed afterwards, as Becky took another one without the bun for 'dessert' and licked the sticky sugar mass from between the chocolate with her tongue.

Devotedly! Doing that brought ideas to my mind as to what her tongue could also do. With me.

"Why?" she asked hypocritically.

Fortunately, Esmé appeared at that moment and asked what we were going to do today.

We did not know and immediately considered it.

Without licking out a Mallomars!

Then I remembered what Alan – who sat in front of me during English - had told me the other day.

So, I abducted my star to Wells. A small place by the sea. Dad had kindly left me the Audi here.

It was quite cloudy, but dry. In addition, it was a little warmer today than normal. 'T-shirt'-weather was clearly over, nevertheless we walked barefoot and with the our pants legs rolled up on the beach through the waves.

At the end of the beach was the target of my abduction.

A few weeks ago a chocolate shop had opened up there.

The lady in the store was already laughing at us when we opened the door and handed us a towel. For our feet that were full of sand. It was noon. All the kids were still at school and the grown-up with sweet tooths were working. So, the store was empty and we sampled our way through half the assortment.

Okay. I tried everything. Almost.

We were there for a long time, drank probably the best cocoa in the world, and got little pastries to go with it.

The woman, who had to be about Mom's age, talked a lot. How she went to a cooking school in France, fell in love with an Italian confectioner, went to patisserie school with him in Switzerland, and after getting married and having children, they opened their own chocolate shop here. The husband also came by intermediately and basically told us everything again from the beginning, with his funny foreign accent. Afterwards, I had a huge bag of chocolates in my hand, for which I had to use Dad's credit card. Quality obviously had its price. But I had also taken all sorts of things with me, which were not only intended for Becky and me.

We walked back across the beach in the very best of amorous moods.

Actually, we kissed more than we progressed. But who was bothered by that? Not me in any case!

"You taste like chocolate," I noted as we nearly tripped over a jogger's shaggy dog.

As I did so, I noticed that we had almost arrived at the car.

"Then eat me out," she said invitingly, and I realized abruptly with a hot shiver in my body that we still had to do the treatment with Carlisle's ointment.

She had 'threatened' me this morning, after she had rubbed herself after the shower, that this would be my job. Yesterday evening neither of us had thought about it.

Becky quickly kissed me and then laughed as she ran away from me.

I set off after her, but she didn't get far. She stepped on a shard of glass and sat down, cursing in the sand.

What idiot left broken glass on the beach!

She got grumpy upset about it.

That was dangerous, if dogs or small children stepped on it.

I carried my scolding star up the promenade and set her down on a bench in front of a slightly larger store. I examined her foot.

Mmm ... The injury on the sole of the foot was not so bad. Only a little cut, which hardly bled, but with the salt water it must have stung quite a bit. Her sweet toes were still attached. All five of them. Phew! Lucky.

"I'll ask for some water so we can wash out the wound from the salt and the sand," I said and immediately entered the store.

The seller handed me not only a bottle of water, but also a cotton ball, some isopropyl alcohol, and a band-aid.

That happens here all the time, he said, and seemed very bored.

"Ouch!" hissed Becky as I dabbed at the spot with the cotton and the liquid.

The good patient got another exciting kiss after I stuck the band-aid over the cut.

I took everything back to the store and washed my hands in the back room while I exchanged a few words with the clerk.

Around the corner was a bar that attracted a lot of young people. They often went to the beach drunk. Bringing glasses and bottles back to the bar, or even just putting them down on the promenade, was too far for most of them.

He was looking for a bucket and a strainer to try to clean it up right away if his relief came.

"What's wrong with the babe out there?" someone entered the store questioningly as I was paying for two small bottles of iced tea.

I turned to him nervously.

A young man pointed snidely outside with his thumb.

"She looks like she ran in front of a bus, and when I asked if everything was okay, she gawked at me and started crying," he said, and I hastily ran out.

"She stepped on shard of glass on the beach," the clerk clarified.

"And since when does someone get a black eye from that?" I heard the other one ask.

Becky was huddled at the far end of the bench, her legs pulled up and tight against her. She kept whispering a desperate "No".

"Becky," I murmured carefully, squatting down next to her and gently stroking over her hands that held her knees.

Jerkily, startled, she lifted her head and I saw the suppressed pain in her eyes. Even if it immediately disappeared again when she threw herself into my arms, it was there.

"I am with you. No one can ever hurt you again!" I promised and stroked over her back.

The tears quickly dried up and Becky became quiet, yet I was worried.

After I carried Becky to the car, we drove home.

She hardly said anything on the drive.

I was driving pretty slowly because I was lost in my thoughts and holding Becky's hand as I did so.

If what the man said was true, he had only spoken to her. And she reacted to that in such a distorted way? So, Dad and Carlisle really were right. Something had gotten Mike out of control with his actions in her soul, even if she was pretending otherwise when she kept telling us she was fine.

By the time we got home, even Carlisle was already back.

He was in one of the many rooms, sitting on the sofa with Esmé, facing each other, and if the two hadn't already been happily married for ages, I would have said they were flirting. They looked at each other chuckling in love, innocently playing with each other's hands, touching each other's faces accidentally-intentionally. Cute, if you kept their age in mind. Three hundred and eighty-four and one hundred and twenty-nine - their human and vampiric years combined.

Becky was also smiling again. She had only put on her sock on her injured foot and stepped on it with her heel.

Of course, this did not escape the attention of the doc, who immediately asked anxiously about the cause.

How could it be otherwise?

Less than three minutes later, we were sitting in the treatment room.

Becky looked at me smugly as Carlisle cleaned the little cut with some sort of concoction.

"It doesn't hurt with him!" she accused me, arms folded in front of her chest and eyebrows raised.

"Am I a doctor?" I asked, deeply offended.

Carlisle chuckled but defended my attempt at treating her.

"The only reason it doesn't hurt now is because Jake had already disinfected it," he defended me.

Becky paused doubtfully and I stuck my tongue out at her in offense.

He taped some sort of medical cloth over the wound and carefully helped her into her sock and shoe so it wouldn't slip. In addition, he instructed us to use the ointment he had given us for the other numerous external injuries there this evening as well. Then Becky should not notice anything more of it.

"And if you continue to complain about my treatment attempts, you can do the other ointment on your own!" I indicated to her still snottily - but whispering.

Carlisle, meanwhile, nicely pretended to be very busy, as if he didn't understand me.

Horrified, Becky looked at me, then switched to her gaze that melted icebergs or wolf hearts.

I had so no chance to prevail against Becky!

Walking didn't hurt her, but it probably felt a little strange with that thing under her sole. So, I carried her in my arms.

To the ends of the earth, if she wants!

We went to Jasper and Alice.

Alice had already told us yesterday that we should stop by when we got a chance.

She had a huge pad in front of her on the table and was sketching.

Surely another new dress for Rose. The guest room in Rose's house was actually a walk-in closet. And it was full! Were Em's clothes also hanging in it? I would ask him when I got the chance.

Alice clapped her hands enthusiastically as we walked in.

"It's good that you came now. I need your help. What do you think? That one is still a bit too ordinary for me. I already think these are beautiful, but in direct comparison it pales a bit next to the angels. There will be lights everywhere. Here and here ..." it gushed out of her, while I still tried to understand her sketch.

A house. With more than just extensive Christmas decorations. However, I could hardly tell so at first sight, which house it was. Judging by the lush decorations, this could be our school. Or the hospital. The town hall?

Becky thwarted her a bit.

"Alice. It's only October!" my star meant amused at Alice's premature eagerness.

"With what I'm working on I have to start planning early," she defended herself, taking four more sketches from the chair and showing them to us.

Three of them were identical in construction and much smaller. These were probably the houses of her, Rose, and Dad.

I took another gaze at what was in front of her.

If I looked past all the lights, garlands, and figurines, it had similarities to Carlisle's house. The fourth was ours in Saco.

"Don't let Mom see that!" I warned, while the ladies were already immersed in further planning.

I retreated to the back where Jasper was sitting.

The fireplace room. With Dad, it was still a fireside room, with a leather lounger for reading, a table with a modern chess set, and two armchairs in front of it. And, of course, a Jacuzzi set into the floor.

Here, all the walls were filled with books and two expansive old-fashioned wing chairs stood in the middle of the room. The obligatory whirlpool was outside on the small terrace.

I chuckled involuntarily.

In Rosie and Em's house, that room had become a game room. X-Box, PlayStation, PC, Nintendo, a 65-inch ultra HD TV. When I thought of a game room, I always thought of that spanking movie. What was the name of it? 'Fifty Shades of' something. I had no doubt that the two of them had such a playroom. Maybe they still had a secret room somewhere. Or a hidden cellar.

Jazz put his book aside as I entered the room.

"How's Becky doing?" he asked after a brief chat about school.

"You tell me," I said. Alice's jitteriness about the Christmas decorations was, in my opinion, just a very welcome distraction from Rosalie's thoughtful words yesterday and the situation earlier.

I told him about both of them.

With Jazz, I always had the impression that I could talk to him about anything. Also, about things that I wouldn't even necessarily say to Becky or Leah. Well, there weren't really any of those, but that was just the feeling.

"Rosie never really came to terms with it. She got revenge, but it didn't help her. Not in the long run," Jazz considered.

"Just don't let them hear you call her Rosie!" I interjected. Only Leah, Becky, and I were allowed to do that! And Emma. "She knows it ... that she will never really come to terms with the subject, I mean. But she could hardly have gone to a psychiatrist - as a newborn," I still said.

"Indeed. That would have been a little difficult ... With Rose, the memories are still as powerful as they were on her first day in this life. She will never forget it. But she is talking about it now. That is good. She is beginning to come to terms with what happened. Since Samantha had so guilefully badgered Edward - or rather, since we were made aware of it - Rose has become a bit more open on this point. She equates Samantha's deception to rape and really talked to Edward for the first time afterward," Jasper said.

Samantha. I had already almost forgotten about her.

"Becky will be able to forget it one day. Already today, the memory of it is slowly fading. Details disappear into the infinity of the mind. The important thing here, should details reappear, is that she is at peace with this situation and with herself. Anything can remind her of the scene and mentally catapult her back to that day. A casual word, an unimportant gesture, an insignificant object, a fleeting touch of a stranger. It can come completely unpredictably. Like with that stranger earlier," Jasper meant further.

"You're right," Becky suddenly stood behind me in the doorway.

I had not even heard her coming. She smiled slightly, 'hobbled' towards us, and sat on the arm of my wingchair. Absentmindedly, she played with my hand for a moment.

"Didn't you study psychology?" she then asked, turning to Jazz.

He nodded.

"So, I could talk to you about all of this?" she asked, smiling captivatingly.

"Whenever you want and are ready for it," Jazz made it clear that he was ready for it.

"Then let's start first thing tomorrow when you get home from school," she suggested.

Jazz agreed.

Later in the evening - actually it was already night - we lay in bed.

We had fulfilled the 'medical treatment' very satisfactorily. With a pillow under my back, I leaned against the headboard and my sparkling star lay sideways on my torso, smiling rapturously at me.

Esmé had kindly given us one of the guest rooms, which were in another part of the house.

So, we were also more or less protected from vampiric ears. If one of us would call for help, they would probably hear it. But not when we were just talking.

Esmé had also specifically called it 'our room' and when we entered it yesterday, I fully understood those words. It was not only nicely furnished like the others. There were photos on the walls. Of Becky and me and our friends and families. A picture of Emma that she had painted for me. There were clothes for us in the closet. In the bathroom were exactly the things that we also used otherwise. Playlists were stored for us in the music system. In a small cupboard there were drinks and sweets, which we both liked. 'The Settlers' card game, which my star had already beat me at many times.

Esmé was simply the best and thought of such little things.

We were just speaking about Jazz and that Becky would be talking to him tomorrow as a psychologist.

"I think it's good that you're doing this," I said.

"I thought I could handle it all already. I'm fine, however, despite everything. You are with me. What more could I want? ... So what has already happened? Mike got himself, what I've been denying him all this time. We're even," she mumbled.

"You're obviously not doing as well as you think. What happened this afternoon? What did that man do to make you cry?" I asked gently.

"I don't know," Becky considered, sitting up straight. "Actually, he just asked if I had anything. Needed help or anything. But something about him made me panic in fear. Something about his voice."

Her own voice began to tremble.

When I saw a tear glistening in the light, I sat up and kissed it away.

"And that's exactly why it's good that you're going to talk to Jazz. He knows how to help you not let your memories get you down. I love you, Becky, but I also feel a little helpless. I just don't know what I can do to help you. Except not leave you alone. Not more than necessary. After all, I'm just your boyfriend," I tried to explain.

"Just my boyfriend?" repeated Becky contemptuously, disengaging from my arms slightly to look at me skeptically.

Her mood swings at the moment were really unbelievable. But sweet!

"How am I supposed to explain to your father that you're my life?" I asked back in a played snotty manner, sliding a hand to her neck to gently pull her face towards me.

Her sapphires began to glow, and I kissed them. My arms were around her, but my hands were busy elsewhere.

However, I wanted to underline my words believably.

"Marry me, Becky!" I said in a whisper as we broke away from the kiss and held up the plastic ring from the little wolf between us. Alice would already patch that one up.

For a brief moment she looked befuddled before my star shone over all.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she said enthusiastically, throwing herself against me so that I fell back into the pillows with her.

I slipped her the ring over the finger. As far as it could go. After all, it was only a small ring for children's hands.

We kissed, breathtakingly and for a long time. Then we lay cuddled together for a long time. Again and again she raised her hand to look at the ring while we imagined our wedding.

On the beach or more traditionally in a church. With Alice in the background, it would be rather very luxurious. All white, both Becky and myself. In the sunset or rather the moonlight. We pictured all kinds of possibilities. We decided afterwards to put the ring back in the stuffed animal. That was its place. We were too young, we both knew that.

"You will get a real marriage proposal. With flowers, a decent ring, I'll get down on one knee, I will ask your father's permission beforehand. Everything that goes with it!" I promised seriously.

"When?"

"When your dad is no longer entertaining thoughts of killing me," I replied.

"So never?" chuckled Becky.

"I can't wait that long!" I stated.

On Friday, Becky wanted to exercise.

Me too. Three days without any sporting activity was strange. Volleyball was out of the question for Becky for the time being, but she was allowed to jog, of course. So, we ran around the sprawling grounds, walked to get her heart rate down, ran a few miles again ...

Around noon we met Esmé, who brought us a blanket and a picnic basket.

On the banks of the Saco River, near Dad's house, we made ourselves comfortable after gratefully hugging Esmé.

She always had such nice ideas.

On my wolf's back I ran Becky back to the house in the afternoon.

The transformation felt quite strange at first, after three days consistently on two legs. It felt for a moment as if I were high. And yes, I knew how one felt under drugs, so I could judge that. Well, I had never resorted to any pills or injections, that was too hard for me - but I had smoked pot. How indifferent I was to everything and everyone at that time. Everything had become the same to me. School, sports, my girlfriend. It was perhaps the reason why she had broken up. That's exactly what Leah and Lisa had then made clear to me and Brandon. Leah and I had sibling squabbles in our blood, and we practiced regularly and with passion, but Bran and Lisa could mess with each other just as well. Always have. They were so energetic that the time of smoke pot was then over.

Becky and I took a shower, very carefully putting lotion on the girl of us.

We used the ointment almost as prescribed by the doctor.

And then school was already over? How quickly a day like this could pass.

With a little feeling of guilt, I carried the badly injured plush wolf to Alice.

"He did it!" stated Becky categorically as Alice glared at us bitingly.

Jasper was also there, of course. After all, he was meeting Becky.

We had already discussed yesterday that it would probably be best for processing if she went to Jazz alone. To be able to talk to him without embarrassment or shame and not be influenced by me in any way.

So, I said farewell to my star and went to Rosie.

I loved watching her tinker with the cars.

A beautiful blonde with a stunning figure in expensive designer clothes in high heels. She wasn't my type overall, but it was still very attractive to watch Rosie tinker with the dirty cars and not get a single stain. Even if she lifted the cars sometimes just to reach somewhere.

I was lying across Dad's Maserati in the back seat, chatting with Rosie about school gossip, as my eyes fell shut and my head fell back.

"Jake," a familiar male voice woke me up.

I was still looking for the suitable face for it while I woke up.

"Do I need to congratulate my son on his engagement?" the voice continued, and I began to blink.

Edward was looking backwards down at me - with a frightening rather evil gaze.

I jerked up in shock and my head slipped off the car body, making me hold onto the seats. I drove my hands through my face, rubbed my eyes a bit, and continued to run them through my hair as I turned to face my dad.

I paused.

It was not an evil gaze. He smiled gently and understandingly. Sure. I had only seen his face the wrong way around.

"No. You don't have to," I said, a little relieved.

"Did you really think I was going to lecture you?" he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders.

I was seventeen! Not even of age yet. Even though Becky had said 'yes' tonight, several times even, neither of us knew how to tell her father now. In a way that I would live to witness my wedding as well. How did Dad even know that?

"Alice came across me thinking very indignantly about the plush wolf. If you broke that, there could only be one reason. You needed the ring," Dad explained.

I nodded. And yawned.

"Are you driving with me?" he asked, as I unfolded and stretched from the uncomfortable back seat. "For dinner with Becky's parents, I need to pick up some appropriate wine."

"You know about wine?" I inquired.

"Not a bit. Bella wrote down for me what to bring."

"Welcome to marriage!" I joked. No matter how it had been in the past. I didn't know any marriage in which the woman didn't really wear the pants, even if the husbands saw it differently. Even with Stan and Peter, it was like that. Stan was clearly the female side of the relationship and what Stan said Peter had to do. In exaggerated terms, of course.

"And you want that willingly?" asked Dad.

"Wouldn't you?" I countered.

"Touché!"

When I asked if I could drive, he laughed at me.

I had counted on that. But riding in a Maserati, if the driver could even drive, was also ingenious.

When we arrived at the wine shop, we called Mom so that the salesman would also hand over the bottles to us minors. He knew Mom a little, his wife was a work colleague of hers, so the phone confirmation that the alcohol was not for us was enough for him.

The dinner went pretty well.

Becky seemed to have benefited from her conversation with Jasper. She didn't appear the least bit glum, rather cheerfully exuberant.

The meal itself was attended only by us, our parents, Leah, and Esmé and Carlisle. The atmosphere was good, and Leah and I were quite full afterwards.

No wonder. The vampires kept swapping plates with ours at lightning speed when Becky's parents were distracted when they were spoken to from another side. The same with the glasses. Fortunately, the wine was diluted with plenty of water for us and the vampires, so we didn't stagger around afterwards.

Subsequently, Becky, Leah and I went for a little walk.

We had eaten so much that we had to move.

The 'grown-ups' meanwhile retreated to the living room.

"Somehow I feel like having a fun evening with the others. Do you think they're already up to something?" asked Becky.

Leah and I grinned at each other and gave each other a high-five.

Yes, I knew my star and had already arranged things with Leah. The owners of the house also knew.

"They're just waiting for our call!" announced Leah.

A good half hour later, our clique was all there.

They already knew from Leah what Mike had done, but our friends were super. They were a bit shy at first, so to say, but quickly thawed into their normal behavior after they realized that Becky was not a fragile or scared bundle of nerves. Moreover, they did not bombard Becky with countless questions.

I would have to thank my sister extensively for this.

We went up to the panoramic loft. With pleasant background music, we lay on the floor with blankets and pillows, talking for ages and doing all sorts of nonsense.

Among other things, spin the bottle. We hadn't done that for years. It was silly, but fun. In the meantime, however, I would have liked to throw Jason out the window. The neck of the bottle was showing at me and I chose truth. Stupid idea!

"How long have you been into Becky?" was his question and I could have strangled him.

Not that he didn't know the answer to it - as did the whole group - but I hadn't really wanted to let Becky know how long I'd been pining after her. That was quite embarrassing for me. Lying or simply downplaying it was therefore out of the question.

"Dare!", I tried to change my choice.

"Forget it!" Lisa hissed at me.

The evil gaze I gave her in response only made her laugh out loud. The rest of the group made similar useful comments, so unfortunately I had to admit defeat when Becky just looked at me curiously.

I turned to her, intertwined my fingers with hers and confessed.

At a school play, she had accompanied another girl on the piano. I would never forget how she looked, even though she sat in the shadow of the spotlight. A pale blue pantsuit literally nestled against her body. In the neckline and on the sleeves were all kinds of glittering stones, but nothing sparkled as beautifully as her eyes. Her dark hair was a bit shorter back then. A pink strand of hair, as was totally in at the time, kept snaking over her shoulder and Becky tried every time to push it back with a head movement. Unsuccessfully. Afterwards, when she bowed on stage with the singing girl, she smiled at me incredibly. Back then she was still wearing braces. By Christmas, it had been two years ago. With that, she had irrevocably nested herself into my head. But I had a girlfriend at that time and she was also with someone. And into whose arms she ran directly again. No idea who that was, however.

"Rick!", Becky helped me out in this regard.

"Is that why you literally let him bleed on the basketball court after winter break?" asked Brandon laughing dirtily.

I shrugged my shoulders. Chuckling.

Could well be that that had something to do with it somehow, but I really didn't know that anymore.

But I went on to tell that although I had noticed her for the first time and had paid more attention to her since that day, it had only really got me in the course of time. How I through my inconspicuous observations ...

"Inconspicuous observations?" interjected Lisa doubtfully, laughing dirty at this.

"You were literally stalking her!" Bran wanted to clarify.

"I can testify to that ... especially in the last few months!" even Becky announced.

I hung my shoulders and my head in defeat.

Where was a black hole I could hide in, however?

Becky combed with her fingers through my long hair, leaving her hand on my neck as she crawled onto my lap. Gently she kissed my lips.

"So, you were observing me inconspicuously," she wanted me to continue narrating.

I nodded and sighed.

Through my inconspicuous observations, I realized who she was in the first place. What kind of person was behind those sapphires. I couldn't even put my finger on when I had a real crush on her. My last girlfriend, Alison, I had at the beginning of this year, but really just to get Becky out of my head, who just seemed unattainable. When I had realized that, I had broken up with her. On my birthday.

(1) In the United States, Mallomars are produced by Nabisco. A graham cracker circle is overlaid with extruded marshmallow, then coated in a thin shell of dark chocolate. Mallomars were introduced to the public in 1913, the same year as the Moon Pie (a confection that has similar ingredients). The first box of Mallomars was sold in West Hoboken, New Jersey (now Union City, New Jersey). (Wikipedia)

Is what in the US is most similar to the 'Schokokuss' (Choko-kiss) - the one we're talking about here.

Thanks for reading!