Page 16 of Wreckage of Me
“You’re gonna regret doing that,” Malone assigns himself as the voice of my conscience, bringing my thoughts back to Becca.
“I know,” I agree with a heavy sigh.
Regret over all of this will eat me alive.
6
Becca
My eyes feellike someone stuck super tiny needles in them, and my head hurts so badly, I can barely think.
“You okay?” Emily rubs my arm up and down, sighing in disappointment when I refuse to even look at her. I’ve been staring out the window ever since we got on the plane back in Dallas.
I don’t even know how I feel about this whole mess with Dylan. I can’t believe I thought I was falling in love with him. I need to be grateful that I dodged a bullet there. Sounds like he’d be a serial cheater, and that is the one thing I seriously don’t need in my life.
I need to focus on my life back in Montana. On my brother who is well on his way to being offered a full sports scholarship from multiple universities. I need to think about his future. Colton needs to be happy and comfortable to leave home. I can’t have him make decisions based on my emotional wellbeing.
“You think Puck will call me?” Emily’s voice sounds small and full of doubt when she asks me that, taking me by surprise.
“Is he your rebound?” I ask with a congested from crying voice.
“What do you mean by that?” Emily sounds confused, and I’m positive it’s mostly due to how bitchy my voice sounds.
“I mean, you were with Steve for how long, right?” I throw in her face all the things she shared with me. “And you didn’t even care when you broke up.” I want to slap myself when the words leave my mouth, but I continue. “Now you hooked up with this guy for the weekend, and you want him to call you?”
I hear Emily’s shocked gasp from her seat next to me. I still don’t turn my head to look at her. I’m just not in the mood for it. At all.
As if she can sense the tension building inside of me like a volcano, she chooses to take the high road and not respond to my bitchy comments.
We continue sitting in silence like that for the rest of the flight. I am in no mood to chat, and Emily is obviously butthurt by my inappropriate comments. I don’t have it in me to care though. I’m tired.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the pilot’s voice comes over the speakers. “This is your captain speaking. It is five-forty five in the afternoon, Billings, Montana, time…” He continues with telling us what the temperature is in Billings, then asking the flight attendants to prepare for landing soon.
“Your seatbelt,” Emily mumbles softly my way, and I finally turn my head a bit to glance at her, but she’s not looking at me.
“What?” I shake my head at her in confusion.
“They said we need to put our seatbelts on,” Emily points toward the ceiling where the speakers are located. “We’re getting close to landing.”
Like a robot, my hands automatically grab each side of the seatbelt and buckle it in the middle over my waist. I then continue to stare, in front of me this time, my mind working a million miles a minute.
I don’t think I’ll be able to get over my short lived affair with him. I’ve never felt this used and just… downright dirty.
The pressure inside the plane changes as we start descending, my stomaching flip flopping a bit the lower we get. I’ve always had this problem, both at takeoff and at landing.
Emily continues staying quiet as we taxi down the runway until we finally come to a stop. A couple of more excited passengers start clapping and holler their thanks to the flying crew. I almost break into a smile until my eyes meet Emily’s. She looks away, mouth set in a straight line when she stands up and reaches for her carry-on bag. I almost expect her to walk away after that, but she surprises me when she pulls my bag out and drops it in the seat she just vacated, for me to pick up.
“Thanks,” I murmur quietly.
“Yup,” is all she says, and I know I messed up.
We finally make it off the plane, our attitude in complete contradiction with how we were when we landed in Dallas only four short days ago.
“I’m really sorry, Em,” I finally tell her, forcing myself to eat some crow and swallow the lump in the back of my throat.
Emily continues walking, her ponytail bouncing back and forth from the brisk pace she set for the both of us. I almost have to take off in a run when I can barely keep up with her.
When she stops by the exit, I run into her, toppling both of us over and into the frame of the door.
