Page 51 of Wicked Nasty

“I'm sorry...”

Becca sneers. “No, you're not. You always bring up the past and try to hurt me. Should I start talking about your dead sister?”

My fists clench in anger. “Enough, Becca.”

“Hypocrite.” Her tone is ice cold. “You don't want me to talk about your shit, yet you have no problem bringing up mine. How about we make a deal? You stay out of my business and I'll stay out of yours.”

I reluctantly agree through gritted teeth. “Fine, deal.”

The tension between us hangs thick in the air as we continue to sit in silence.

But then Becca's voice cuts through. “We need to work on the project.”

I huff, still seething with anger. “Right now?”

She stands up, determined. “Why not? We're both awake.”

I let out a defeated sigh, knowing she's right. “Fine.”

Together, we head into her bedroom, but the atmosphere is charged with animosity and resentment.

My gaze sweeps over Becca's neatly organized bed, taking in the array of color-coded notes, her precise handwriting scrawled across them. Ideas and pictures are carefully laid out alongside a map of her hard work and determination. I can't help but be impressed.

"Wow," I manage to say, my heart racing as she smiles at me. I shake my head, trying to focus on the task at hand.

Stop staring at her, Danny. Stop thinking about the way she tastes...

Becca snaps her fingers in front of my face. "Earth to Danny."

I snap back to reality, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Yeah, sorry. Just a lot to take in." I point to the pile labeled "Farmers." "Let's start here. What are your ideas?"

Her smile widens as she explains, "We simply ask. We'll email, call, or even visit these farmers if we have to. We'll see if they want to participate and accept any donations they're willing to make."

Nodding along, I add, "I'm sure we could also secure some grants for them."

"Exactly! And we could also reach out to local businesses for sponsorships."

“Perfect. We can have the woodworking classes create long farmhouse tables for our events and workshops.”

Becca's enthusiasm is infectious as she carefully jots down all our ideas in her notebook.

“Yes! So many possibilities for workshops, events, classes, and more. We should also reach out to homeschooling groups - they could greatly benefit from our resources.”

“That's a great idea. And don't forget about the food banks. Our fresh produce can make a real difference in the lives of local people in need.”

As Becca continues to jot down notes, I can’t help but wonder about the future of our project.

“Who will run this place when we're off at college?”

Becca's expression turns thoughtful and uncertain. “Oh... I guess I hadn't really thought about that.”

“Well, what are your plans after high school?”

Becca fidgets nervously, suddenly seeming unsure of herself. “I... well, I suppose I didn't have much of a plan.”

I’m surprised by her admission. “No college?”

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