Chapter 2
Science Goo
Beck
“You think this is the right apartment?” Mama asks nervously as the doorbell fades.
I almost tell her, how the heck would I know.
Even though Gracie’s been my best friend at school for a couple of years now, I’ve never been to her place either.
We had to drive farther than I expected, past the edge of town where the streetlights thin out and the road runs alongside open fields instead of houses.
The apartments appear all at once—two low buildings set back from the road, surrounded by gravel and grass instead of sidewalks.
But I don’t say any of that.
Mama gets like this, anxious around new people, tense in new places.
Dad used to complain about it.
“Jesus, Suzy,” he’d say. “Just go introduce yourself. What’re they gonna do? Call the police? Fuck, you make everything so damn complicated.”
After that, Mama would go quiet. Not angry. Just silent.
I learned early it was better not to push. Better to wait. To keep things calm.
I don’t miss him much. My dad.
The door flies open, and Gracie’s standing there, grinning like she’s been waiting all day.
“Beck! You’re here!”
That’s one of the things I like most about her. She acts like seeing me is the best part of her whole day. With Gracie, nothing is small. Everything is bright and loud and important.
A beautiful woman with the same auburn hair and green eyes as her daughter steps into view, already shaking her head. “Gracie, I told you not to open the door. What if it was a stranger?”
“But it’s not,” Gracie says, pointing at me like I’m proof of something. “It’s Beck.”
Her mom sighs and rolls her eyes, smiling despite herself. She turns to Mama and holds out her hand. “Don’t mind her. She’s eight going on eighteen. I’m Marie.”
Mama shakes her hand, eyes fixed on the floor.
“Do you want me to drop him off?” Mama asks, gesturing at me. She’d worried about that the whole drive over, whether she was supposed to leave or stay.
Marie studies her for a moment, head tilted. “Why don’t you come in too, Suzy? I’ve got coffee. Or a bottle of wine.”
Mama looks up at that. She likes wine. But it’s been too much of a luxury since Dad left.
The moms head inside while Gracie grabs my hand and drags me down the hall. Her bedroom is pink and messy, clothes and dolls everywhere. She’s got puzzles too. Hot Wheels. Hungry Hungry Hippo. We play all of it while our moms sit on the couch, talking quietly, glasses clinking now and then.
“This is my favorite toy,” Gracie says hours later. “Mom only lets me use it here in the kitchen because it makes a mess.”
She pulls over a chair, climbs up with my help, and grabs a box from a high cupboard. Complete Science Kit, the box says in big red letters.
“It’s got experiments and test tubes and p—pi—piettes.”
“What’s a pip-pip—?” I stop. That word’s too hard.
“It’s a fancy eye dropper,” she says, like that clears everything up.
She clears space on the kitchen counter and dumps the supplies out. I notice it’s dark outside, past dinnertime. Mama usually calls for me by now.
Weird.
I peek around the corner.
Mama’s laughing.
Not the polite kind. Real laughing. Her cheeks are pink. Her shoulders aren’t pulled up around her ears like usual. There’s wine in front of her, but her eyes are clear. She’s not drunk like Dad used to get with Jack Daniels.
She looks…happy.
For the first time in years, Mama looks happy.
Marie’s laughing too. They lean toward each other when they talk, like they’re sharing secrets. Like people do when they’ve both been through the same kind of hard and are glad they can finally explain it out loud.
I stare, afraid that if I blink it might disappear.
“Come on, Beck,” Gracie whispers behind me. “What’re you doing?”
“Look,” I whisper back.
We spy together.
“Wow,” Gracie says quietly. “I haven’t seen Mom smile like that since Sean left.”
“Who’s Sean?” I ask.
She shrugs. “A boyfriend. I didn’t like him.”
“Why?”
She turns back to the counter, her voice casual, like she’s talking about the weather. “They yelled a lot. He shoved her once. She burned her arm on the stove."
“Now there’s Chris,” she adds.
“Who’s Chris?”
“The new one.” She grins. “He buys me chocolate shakes.”
“Does your mom always have a boyfriend?” I ask, trying to keep up.
“Pretty much,” she says, distracted.
The volcano erupts, white foam spilling everywhere. Gracie bounces on her toes, clapping. “Isn’t it cool? How it explodes?”
Before I can answer, Mama comes into the kitchen, smiling wide.
“Guess what, Beck. You know how we’ve been looking for a new place?”
“Yeah,” I say and nod. I’m sick of the old apartment. Of the echoes. Of Mama crying on the couch when I’m supposed to be asleep.
“Well,” Mama says, clapping her hands. “Marie says there’s an apartment open in the building next door. She thinks we can get it.”
Gracie gasps.
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Mama asks.
“Yes!” Gracie shrieks. She launches herself at me, hugging so tightly I can hardly breathe. Her hands are sticky with science goo, but I don’t pull away.
“It’ll be so fun, Beck,” she says. “We can always be together. Forever and ever.”
I nod, even though I don’t really understand how forever works.
I just know that the things people love the most seem to be the things they break the easiest.
And I already know how much I hate that.
Gracie
Present
Kirsten and Trish turn toward each other, deep in conversation. I take the opening.
“How’s Sarah?” I ask, careful to keep the edge out of my voice.
Beck stills. Just for a beat. “We broke up.”
I blink. “What? When?” I try to sound casual and miss by a mile. “I thought she was a sure thing. You were together for, like…six months?”
He looks down at his beer, swirling it once. “Something like that.”
“Did she realize she was dating a man who alphabetizes his spice rack?” I add lightly, trying to tease a smile out of him. I hate it when Beck frowns. I nod sagely and add, “Because that’s a lot.”
“It’s efficient,” he mutters. He still won’t look at me. “Besides, it wasn’t that serious.”
The laugh slips out before I can stop it, too sharp to be funny. “Serious enough that I barely saw you. You disappeared.”
He stiffens.
I tap my chin, pretending to think, even though I know exactly how long.
I’ve counted. “Let’s see. I haven’t seen you in…
two months?” I tilt my head. “That’s the longest we’ve gone without seeing each other since we were five.
” I force a smile. “I wasn’t even sure if you were going to show up tonight. ”
Beck’s head snaps up. His jaw tightens, the way it always does when he’s bracing for a fight he doesn’t want to have. “I was busy.”
“With her,” I say.
The words land between us. Not loud. Not angry. Just true. And I don’t know why it bothers me so much. Beck’s had girlfriends. He’s dated, maybe not as much as me, but enough. It’s just that he’s never seemed serious about anyone before.
He exhales. “You were busy too.”
“With Brandon,” I say, defensive before he finishes.
He nods once. “With Brandon.”
I study his face, searching for something—anger, resentment, relief. He gives me nothing. Beck’s always been good at hiding his emotions. I think he learned it young, back when his dad was still around.
“You hated Brandon,” I say.
“I didn’t hate him.”
I arch a brow. “You absolutely hated him.”
He doesn’t answer right away. When he does, his voice is even. Too even. “I didn’t like watching you plan a life with a guy who doesn’t show up for you.”
Something tightens in my chest. Because he’s not wrong. And because I didn’t see it until it was over.
“Well,” I say after a long beat, forcing a smile, “joke’s on both of us.”
“Looks that way,” he says.
I tilt my head, aiming for teasing, not vulnerable. “So…do you want a one-night stand too?” I gesture vaguely toward the bar. “Plenty of options.”
Finally, Beck looks at me. Really looks at me.
“No, Gracie,” he says quietly. “That’s not what I want.”