{ beginning of junior year / talking to Beck for the first time }
It was their tenth time sitting in the same quiet room. Double digits. A milestone he would’ve joked about under different circumstances, maybe brought a cupcake with a candle, lit it dramatically, said something dumb, but he didn’t. He hadn’t earned that kind of casual with her yet. They were sitting in the same quiet room but not exactly together, they never talked much in there. Rudy had his way of staring at the floor like it held all the answers and Beck always brought a pen to twist between her fingers. Still, ten times. He’d been counting. This time, they left at the same moment, not planned. Not even really noticed until the door clicked shut behind them and it was just the two of them, stepping into a late afternoon, not quite evening, not quite warm. The air was strange, overcast in a way that made colors feel faded like the world had been through the wash too many times.
Rudy shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and glanced sideways. ”You always leave so fast. It’s like you’ve got a race to win out there.“ He softly spoke up, trying to start a conversation with a joke like he usually does. “Maybe I do.” Her words came quick, a little defensive, but not mean. Just… guarded. Still, she didn’t speed up or leave. Rudy smiled and even tho she didn’t mirror it, her expression cracked a little. Walking silently for a beat, he played with the gum he always had on him. ”You know,“ he started, half smiling to himself. ”My mom taught a girl like you once. About ten years old. Ridiculous balance. Pink leotard.. Kind of okay pirouettes.“ Beck blinked, then laughed. “That was me.”
”I know,“ he quickly added, nodding in that proud way with a muggish smile on his face. She paused. “You watched?” ”Yeah. Sat in the back like a disaffected critic. Pretended I was above it all. Secretly gave everyone scores out of ten and if I had any say in it not one of you should ever see a stage again.“
“Rude.” ”I’m Rudy actually.“ He gave her that cheeky smile again. They walked a little more, feet moving in rhythm. He had the urge to say something stupid again, just to keep her from drifting away inside herself. But then she spoke. “I remember when she died,” Beck said quietly. “Your mom. My mom told me. I didn’t know what to say…” Rudy’s breath hitched, not enough to be audible but enough that he felt it. That hurt. That thing that never really left. ”Most people said the wrong thing,“ he said eventually. ”Or nothing at all.“ She looked at him, really looked, like she wanted to ask something but wasn’t sure if she had the right. “What helped?” He thought about lying. About saying “time” and leaving it there… But he didn’t. ”People who didn’t expect me to talk about it.“ There was silence, but it was different now. It had softened, made room for them both. Rudy tugged a stick of gum from his pocket and held it out. ”Peppermint,“ he said and she took it. They didn’t talk after that, they were just chewing in sync like some kind of a weird ritual and just walking. Two kids in the fading light, side by side like they’d been doing it for years.