Chapter Text
It feels almost silly to Beca, the fact that the largely empty, unfamiliar hallway seems to mentally transport her right back more than ten years in the blink of an eye. The cream colored walls, slightly clinical in appearance, remind her of a less vibrant first day of kindergarten, what with the addition of biting uncertainty and relentless apprehension swirling deep inside of her and all. Of course, Beca was not the only new kid back then; her peers were all in the same terrifying boat, which somehow made the huge transition somewhat smoother, despite the fact that Beca was never quite as outgoing as the rest of them. Unfortunately, she does not have that same safety net this time around.
There really is no good time to be the newest addition to an established grade of teenagers, but Beca is pretty certain that her timing is perhaps the worst it could possibly be. Clearly, her parents weren’t thinking about the repercussions for their only daughter when they’d decided to announce their long-time-coming divorce. And Beca knows that it has to completely suck for them, of course she does, but opting to move them from their family home and into two much smaller, much more affordable neighborhoods has affected Beca greatly, too. It is because of those changes that Beca now finds herself starting a whole new school in the middle of the semester, and she cannot help but feel more than slightly bitter for that fact.
Junior year is hellish enough without an impromptu upheaval, but at least Beca had been comfortable in her old school, surrounded by familiar faces and the small handful of friends she had managed to maintain throughout her forced years in education. Moving a sixteen year old—a small, closed off sixteen year old who does not have the best time with fitting in at that—is an act Beca considers cruel, but it is her fate, so all she can do is accept it and quietly grumble, and do her best to fade into the background.
That is easier said than done, of course, something Beca learns the moment she is escorted into her first class of the day by a member of staff whose name seems to have completely passed Beca by. She supposes that her one saving grace is the fact that it is still the beginning of the period, therefore most of her new classmates are busy talking amongst themselves, but she takes note of various eyes drifting curiously toward her, and does her best not to accidentally lock onto any of them in return.
“Rebeca,” she hears the mumbled sound of this period’s teacher addressing her as he scans over her notes.
“Uh, just Beca,” Beca corrects quickly, and it is clear that she has spoken a little too loudly, considering the way she feels even more sets of questioning eyes boring into her from the rowdy class of students. She thinks she hears a snicker from somewhere close by, but Beca mentally tells herself it is not directed at her. Regardless, her pale cheeks flush a soft shade of crimson at the very thought.
“Alright,” the teacher says with a short nod of his head. He offers Beca a kind smile, though it doesn’t do too much to calm her nerves. “Well, welcome to Barden High, Beca. I’m Mr. Scott, and I believe there is a free desk for you in the third row.” He pauses to quickly sweep his gaze toward the expanse of the room, then confirms his statement with another brief nod. “Lilly, please move your things and let Beca take her seat.”
Lilly responds with a small puff of air through her nose and an incomprehensible mumble of some kind that Beca doesn’t quite hear, but she proceeds to sweep her belongings from beneath Beca’s new desk and toward her own without further complaint, and Beca offers her something of an apologetic grimace as she approaches the area. She takes note of the empty desk to her left, too, and wonders why she can’t just take that one so as not to inconvenience Lilly, but she chooses not to ask aloud.
“Alright, guys, settle down,” Mr. Scott bellows over the mixed sounds of excited classroom chatter. “Stacie, you’ll have plenty of time to talk about which guys are sooo cute later.” His mimicking tone pulls a chuckle from the class, and the girl Beca assumes is Stacie seems just as highly amused as everybody else as she straightens in her seat. “Right now, I want everybody’s focus on Hawthorne.”
While many students groan under their breath at the very idea, everybody lazily reaches for their copies of The Scarlet Letter, a book Beca owns herself thanks to the syllabus at her old school, but that she hadn’t quite gotten the memo to bring along with her today. Rather than draw attention to the fact—Beca figures the less attention she draws to herself, the better—Beca sinks back a little bit into her new seat, and Mr. Scott apparently doesn’t think to check.
The class has been in session for about ten minutes by the time the teacher, mid-question about something particularly descriptive in the text, is interrupted by the opening door, and all eyes idly drift upward to take in the latecomer.
It is sort of comical really, the way Beca’s slackened jaw practically hits her desk.
“I’m really sorry I’m late, Mr. Scott,” the new arrival says. “My dog had babies super early this morning! I’ve been helping to get them settled.”
There are a few squeals of excited aww’s, and someone quickly demands pics!, but Mr. Scott shoots a brief frown the student’s way, before nodding toward the empty desk beside Beca. “Nice of you to join us, Ms. Beale. And congratulations to your dog on the puppies. Go ahead and take your seat, we’re on page 105.” Although his gaze begins to lower to the open copy in his hand, Mr. Scott seems to pause for a second, then does a double take Beca’s way. “Oh, Beca, I’m very sorry. Do you have a copy of The Scarlet Letter?”
“Um, not with me, Mr. Scott,” Beca admits almost sheepishly. Again, she feels wandering eyes scrutinizingly bore into her, but makes a point of not looking back.
“That’s okay, she can share mine,” the new addition announces in a chipper tone, plopping casually down into her seat.
“Thank you, Chloe,” Mr. Scott nods, before turning his attention back to the text in front of him, then quickly dives back into his previously interrupted question.
Although Beca is trying to listen, trying to remain present and involved in the class in which she feels like a total and complete outsider, her focus is soon pulled by the soft sound of a welcoming, quiet voice, and Beca’s head turns in time for her eyes to land on what is positively the most stunning, most captivating shade of blue she has ever seen.
“Hi, are you new?” Chloe whispers as she slips her book from the backpack now resting by her feet, fortunately quietly enough that she doesn’t draw Mr. Scott’s attention, though loudly enough for Beca to hear.
“Uh, yeah,” Beca whispers back, suddenly hyper aware of an uncomfortable level of heat rising toward her pale cheeks. Hastily, she tears her embarrassingly wide stare from Chloe’s eyes, and awkwardly clears her now very dry throat in the process. “Um, but you don’t have to share your book with me. I’ve read it, I think I know what’s going on.”
“No, that’s okay,” Chloe whispers in such a breezy tone that Beca almost doesn’t believe her dog having babies excuse; how can anybody seem so cheerful running on what Beca can only assume is such a small amount of sleep? “It’s better when you can read along. Here.” She pauses, quickly flipping open the book, before scooting her chair away from her desk and closer toward Beca’s. The worn metal feet cause a screeching sound along the tiled floor, likely drawing attention to the pair. Beca makes a point of not looking up to check.
“Right,” she nods instead, forcing her eyes down onto the now open page. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”
“Of course,” Chloe hums quietly, and Beca thinks that will be the end of their conversation. Apparently, however, Chloe has other ideas, and just as Beca manages to find the sentence Mr. Scott is currently reading aloud, Chloe cuts in with a whispered, “What’s your name?”
Although she casts a quick glance toward the teacher, just to check he is still preoccupied and they are not disturbing the class, Beca quietly responds, “Beca.”
“Beca,” Chloe echoes softly. “Pretty. I’m Chloe.”
In response, Beca offers Chloe a short nod of her head and a small, polite smile, but scared of finding herself creepily staring into a stranger’s eyes all over again—dude, they really are so blue—she attempts to fix her attention on the book.
“Why’d you transfer schools so late?” Chloe asks, but before Beca gets the chance to respond, a clearing throat pulls both of their attention toward the front of the class.
“That’ll do, Chloe.”
“Sorry, Mr. Scott!”
All things considered, Chloe truly surprises herself with the way she manages so easily to stay so alert throughout all of her morning classes.
Bella’s imminent labor has been anticipated for days, so Chloe hasn’t been sleeping much in general, then when it properly started somewhere as late last night began to leak into early morning, she remained dutifully by her side, until all five puppies were born healthy and just as unfathomably adorable as their mother. Chloe likes to think it is good practice for her future veterinary career, helping with Bella’s labor, but mostly, she just wanted to be there for her dog.
She could’ve very well stayed home from school today, but as much as Chloe really did want to, something told her that missing a day would not be wise. Fortunately, Bella and the currently nameless puppies are in good hands with her vet tech mother, so despite the fact that Chloe had kind of dragged her feet when it came to getting ready for school this morning, she’d made it to class only slightly late for first period, and she has managed to maintain her regular, chipper energy the whole morning since.
By lunchtime, however, Chloe is decidedly beginning to lose her steam.
“Earth to Chloe?” Ashley prompts with a gentle nudge of her elbow. “You’re kind of holding up the whole lunch line.”
Jerking back to consciousness, Chloe hurriedly steps to the right, effectively freeing up a little space. “Sorry!” Quickly, she shakes her head, trying to pull forward a little energy. A few short seconds of wild blinking seems to help some. “I don’t know how I’m even standing right now, I barely got any sleep last night.”
“Yeah, you should’ve just taken a sick day or something,” Ashley frowns, balancing her newly filled tray in both hands. “Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know,” Chloe shrugs, adding a fresh bottle of icy water to her own tray. “I was going to. I just felt like something was...I don’t know, telling me to come to school. Like I’d miss something big if I didn’t, you know?”
As she glances toward her friends, Chloe is met with a series of lifted brows and incredulous expressions.
“I would’ve just taken the sick day,” Stacie shrugs simply, bumping by Chloe in pursuit of their regular lunch table.
Chloe only hums quietly to herself, before turning with her tray clutched carefully in both hands to dutifully follow along behind her friends. She pauses, however, as her sleepy yet wandering gaze lands on the sight of her new English class desk neighbor, awkwardly hovering alone.
“You guys, we should invite Beca to sit with us,” Chloe says through something of a sad smile.
“Who’s Beca?” Aubrey, pausing at the same time as Chloe does, questions in confusion.
“Beca,” Chloe repeats, motioning toward the lone new girl. “I don’t think she has anybody to sit with.”
Chloe lifts her gaze to see the sight of her friends exchanging knowing glances, and responds with tightly knitted brows. “What?”
“She’s really weird,” Ashley says, since nobody else seems to be speaking up. “That eyeliner…”
“Yeah,” Stacie chimes in, “she was looking at you like she wanted to take your clothes off in class this morning.”
“What?” Chloe repeats a little more firmly this time. Auburn brows remain in their same furrowed position, and she shoots her friends a somewhat testy look. “No, she wasn’t. And so what if she was? Are you saying you have a problem with the possibility of her being gay?”
At that, multiple expressions fall. Cynthia-Rose, the only openly gay member of the group, purses her lips, and Chloe notes the way her gaze begins to flicker toward the other girls, almost like she is nervously awaiting their response, too.
Cynthia-Rose’s recent coming out had been positively received by everybody in their friend group. Chloe, the daughter of two bisexual women and quietly questioning her own sexuality as of late herself, had been especially encouraging, though the subject has remained largely hushed since.
“That’s what I thought,” Chloe says with a mild hint of indigence. “Beca’s new, she probably doesn’t know anybody. I’m going to ask her if she wants to sit with us.”
Rather than wait for further protest, Chloe proceeds to straighten her shoulders, then easily breaks away from the group. She hears quiet chatter coming from the girls as they stalk off to their table, though she doesn’t know nor care what they’re saying, and by the time she has approached Beca, there is a wide smile set on her lips.
“Hey, do you want to come and sit with us?” Chloe asks brightly, her question met with a look of something akin to genuine surprise.
“Oh… What, me?” Beca questions, despite the fact that they are the only two in their close vicinity. Her voice is a little squeaky, as if Chloe has somehow caught her entirely off guard.
Chloe bites back the quiet chuckle that attempts to puff free in response, though she knows the amusement is written all over her face. “Who else would I be talking to?”
“Right,” Beca says with a small, awkward laugh of her own. “Uh, I mean…”
“Come sit with us,” Chloe presses, twisting to motion toward the large, rectangular table where the rest of the girls have taken their seats and are quietly watching the interaction, though they all quickly lower their heads as Chloe’s eyes fall on them. She turns back to see Beca glancing over her shoulder, a certain amount of apprehension in her stare.
“No, it’s okay,” she says with a quick shake of her head. “Your table looks pretty full.”
In turn, Chloe’s lips press into a thin line, and she takes in the nervous expression on Beca’s face. She gets the sense that Beca is definitely pretty shy, and that the thought of diving into a large, established friend group such as Chloe’s is probably a little intimidating for her. The last thing Chloe wants is to push her from her comfort zone, especially on her first day, so she relents with a soft shrug of her shoulder.
“Okay, then I’ll sit with you,” she offers instead, though she doesn’t give Beca much of a chance to respond before she begins to step toward the nearest free table. “Over here?”
“What? No, you don’t have to do—”
Beca’s protests fall flat, because Chloe has already begun to shuffle into the nearest seat at the smaller, circular table, and she takes note of the way Beca’s exterior seems to soften some with the small, bashful smile on her lips, before she follows dutifully along.
“You really don’t have to sit with me,” Beca insists as she slips into the seat across from Chloe, resting her tray down on the clean white tabletop. In spite of herself, there is much less conviction to her voice, and Chloe notices something of an appreciative look on her face as she lifts a hand to tuck a chunk of long brunette hair behind her ear to reveal two small lobe piercings, and another stud up at the top.
Ignoring the statement, Chloe picks up her plastic fork to begin digging into her food. “I like your makeup,” she says sincerely, offering Beca a warm smile. “And your earrings, too. Did they hurt?”
Strangely, Beca seems to bristle slightly at the compliment, and makes a point of quickly covering her ear over again. Chloe doesn’t push, though; she just pops a bite of food into her mouth, and waits patiently for Beca’s response.
“Thanks,” Beca finally says, eyes down on her food, though she lifts them to focus better on Chloe. “Uh, lobes not so much. The helix one was pretty painful, though. It took a while to heal.” She pauses to quietly study Chloe for a moment. “You have lobe piercings.”
“I do,” Chloe nods, swallowing the mouthful of food. “But I got them pierced when I was pretty young, I don’t really remember if it hurt or not. I just remember begging my moms to let me get them pierced, then they took me out for ice cream after. It was a good day.”
Normally, when Chloe mentions her parents around new people, they generally ask her to repeat herself, or they at least pause, as if they couldn’t possibly have heard the plural correctly. She takes note of the way Beca doesn’t do that, though. Instead, she just grins at the story, and Chloe flashes her the same expression in return.
“So, are you totally new to town?” Chloe questions, lifting another forkful of food toward her mouth. “It must be weird transfering schools in the middle of the semester, huh?”
Beca’s nose wrinkles at that, and she glances down at the sandwich she is currently tearing the corner off of. “Yeah, it kind of sucks,” she admits dryly. She doesn’t offer much more than that, though, and despite the expectant way Chloe watches her, she decides not to push.
“I guess you don’t really know anybody around here then?” she asks instead.
“Nope,” Beca shakes her head, lifting the broken piece of sandwich to her mouth. “Brand new.”
“Yikes,” Chloe frowns, swallowing the current bite. She barely pauses before asking, “Do you want my number?”
Beca’s curious gaze lifts then, so Chloe offers her an encouraging smile.
“Um, okay,” Beca says after a brief moment of quiet thought. “I’m really not that fun, though.”
Chloe only chuckles lightly in response. “I think you are,” she says, before stretching out her fingers to grasp for the cellphone she cannot see. “Can I see your phone?”
As Beca twists in her seat to reach for her large backpack, Chloe makes no attempt to not watch her. She studies the way Beca’s partially curled hair flows over her shoulders, takes note of the black nail polish clearly applied some time recently, and Chloe doesn’t bother to tear her contented gaze away even as Beca sits upright again to hand over her newly retrieved, unlocked phone.
“Thank you,” Chloe begins, though she pauses to scan over the wallpaper with wide, excited eyes. “Oh, is this your dog?”
“Oh, yeah,” Beca nods. “He’s pretty cute, huh?”
“He’s very cute,” Chloe agrees brightly, studying the photo a moment longer, before tapping through to Beca’s contacts. “What’s his name?”
“Gunner,” Beca responds with a small chuckle—likely directed at Chloe’s enthusiasm—as Chloe begins to tap her number onto the screen. “He’s my buddy.”
“Ah, see, so you already have two friends around here,” Chloe states with a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. She saves her number with her favorite sunflower emoji beside her name, then taps through to the contact picture, before pulling up the camera and holding the phone up in front of her.
“I do?” Beca questions curiously, though Chloe can see the smirk stretching onto her lips from the corner of her eye as she snaps a quick picture of herself.
“Mhm,” Chloe nods, quickly saving the information. She immediately hits call, before holding the phone back out toward Beca. “Me and Gunner.”
“Right,” Beca chuckles a little more sincerely this time. Chloe can feel her eyes on her as she unzips her own backpack to pull out her phone, the screen lighting up with Beca’s unsaved number.
It is kind of nice, Chloe thinks, the idea that Beca might be loosening up a bit already. So far, she really isn’t the most talkative, but there is just something about the new girl, something that Chloe finds incredibly intriguing, and she finds that she is genuinely excited to get to know her better.
“Can I take your picture?” Chloe asks as she rejects the incoming call and quickly begins to tap out Beca’s contact details.
“Uh, what?” Beca questions, evidently somewhat startled by the request.
“For your contact,” Chloe explains, already pulling up the camera application. “All of my contacts have pictures and emojis. Is that okay? If yours does, too?”
While Beca pulls in her bottom lip between her teeth, perhaps thinking over the request for a moment, she eventually nods her head. “Um, yeah. Okay, sure.” Instinctively, she lifts a hand to run her fingers through her curls. “I hate getting my picture taken.”
“It’s just for me,” Chloe promises, holding up the phone to position Beca in the frame. She watches the way Beca’s gaze awkwardly flickers away.
“Do I smile?” she tenses a bit, nervous chuckle puffing from her nostrils.
“Yes,” Chloe nods, head tilting as she studies Beca through the camera preview. She pauses for a moment, lips twisting in silent thought, before she stretches an arm around the phone and toward Beca’s hair. Beca watches her, but doesn’t verbally question her, and soon Chloe is delicately tucking the same chunk of hair from before behind Beca’s ear. “I like the piercings,” Chloe explains in a softer voice, pulling her arm back to see the bashful look on Beca’s reddening face. “Ready?”
Beca only nods, before shooting a somewhat nervous half-smile toward the camera. Chloe snaps the picture quickly, not wanting to prolong Beca’s obvious discomfort, then responds with a contented smile of her own as she studies the image. “Perfect.”
School days always seem to drag on for an uncomfortable length of time in general, but thanks to the anxiety of a whole new place, today has felt particularly long to Beca. The only positive is that it is Friday, something Beca had considered stupid when she’d first found out it would be her first day at Barden High, but that she is incredibly grateful for now. At least she has the weekend, this one at her father’s house, to mope and shoot disgusted looks toward him and his new girlfriend on the rare occasion she emerges from her attic bedroom.
Deflecting with short, one-word responses to both Warren and Sheila’s enthusiastic questions about her first day over dinner, Beca had hurried through her meal, then disappeared to the solace of her own space, where she intends to remain, preferably uninterrupted, for the rest of the night.
Although she receives a few text messages from friends telling her they miss her, it is largely an evening of solitude, but Beca doesn’t mind that. She finds her own company easy enough to tolerate, especially because her music always sees to it that she is never truly alone.
Padded cups of her black Beats headphones—a not so subtle ‘divorce appeasement’ gift from her father—settled comfortably over her ears, Beca is relaxed back into her large computer chair, eyes closing as she loses herself in her newest mashup attempt, when the sound of a new iMessage pings over the music. Rather than force herself back up from her slumped position, Beca idly reaches for her phone, pulling it into her lap and tapping the screen.
Chloe 🌻
wanna see something cute?
While Beca’s brow inches upward slightly, she cannot help the soft pull of her lips, the way the corner curls in response to the sunflower emoji beside Chloe’s name. To be totally honest, she hadn’t expected to hear from her; Chloe is decidedly a nice person, and Beca had enjoyed her company at lunch today, but she had assumed Chloe was simply humoring her. The thought that she actually cares to talk to her now, outside of school, makes Beca’s stomach pull in a strange, though not uncomfortable, way.
Beca
sure
Not two seconds later, a stream of five images filter in: three are pictures of a litter of puppies—Beca thinks she counts five of them in total—one, a picture of a golden retriever curled protectively around the puppies, and the last a picture of Chloe, hair pulled back into a loose ponytail and bright grin on her lips as she carefully holds one puppy in each gloved hand.
Chloe 🌻
puppies!!
Beca doesn’t quite understand why her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she studies the pictures and the simple text to follow. She does notice, however, that she focuses a little more intently on the last image.
Beca
i see that
so your dog really did have puppies, huh?
Chloe 🌻
she did!
wait, you thought i was lying??
Despite the fact that Chloe cannot see her, Beca finds herself sucking in her cheeks.
Beca
i don’t know
Chloe 🌻
pfft. i do not lie. especially when it comes to adorable babies
they really are ad— Beca begins to respond, though her phone soon vibrates in her hand, and she pauses momentarily as she notices the incoming call, brows automatically lifting in curious reaction.
Beca hates phone calls. In fact, if she were to make a list of the top ten things she dislikes, talking on the phone would be very close to the top—right below her father’s new girlfriend. However, she finds that she sits slowly upward as she reads over Chloe’s name, hand stretching outward to pause her music with a pointed finger, and although a part of her definitely does consider hitting reject, something else stops her. Lifting a hand to tug off her headphones, her thumb sweeps over the green button, before Beca is thoughtlessly pressing the phone to her ear.
“Uh, hey,” Beca greets as coolly as she can manage, although she knows there is a definite hint of confusion in her tone. “What’s up?”
“I can’t believe you thought I was lying,” Chloe’s melodic giggle rings through the phone, and Beca finds herself sitting up straighter in response, headphones settled down carefully on her desk before her. “Why would you even think that?”
“I don’t know,” Beca says with a small shrug. She can feel her cheeks beginning to grow hot—of course she has managed to piss off the one and only person to have been nice to her at Barden High. “I mean, you were in a really good mood. I wouldn’t have even been making complete sentences if I’d been up all night like that.”
“Mm,” Chloe hums lightly in response. Beca hears a small creak, like that of a mattress moving, in the background. “I guess I’m just a morning person. What are you doing?”
The sense of whiplash from the changing conversation topic halts Beca only briefly, before she begins to easily rise from her seat. It is almost instinct for her to shuffle toward her single bed, where Beca plops down on the edge of the mattress. “Um, nothing. Just hanging out at home.” She pauses, backtracking. “Uh, at my dad’s, I mean.”
“Your dad’s home isn’t also your home?” Chloe questions, and Beca hears her shuffling, as if she is trying to get comfortable. Beca cannot help but follow suit, until she is grabbing the pillows to stack against the headboard, then casually leaning back against them.
“No. I mean, yeah, I guess it is… I don’t know, things are just weird right now,” she admits almost a little too easily.
Beca doesn’t like to talk about her homelife—it is not like there is any wild, extravagant story there; her parents’ divorce is just a sore subject for her, that’s all—so when Chloe curiously asks, “Why’s that?”, Beca only responds with a brief shrug of her shoulder, despite the fact that she cannot see her. It seems that the lacking response is enough for Chloe, though.
“Well, let’s get you out of there, then,” Chloe hums softly, and Beca responds with tightly knitted brows.
“What, now? Isn’t it, like…” She pauses to pull her phone from her ear to quickly check the time. “It’s almost ten.”
“No,” Chloe responds with a fond giggle. “Not now. What about tomorrow, what are you doing then?”
“Oh…” A part of Beca wants to make something up, to at least sound like she has a life of some kind. However, she has never been the best liar, so she comes up short, and instead responds with a clear of her throat and a nonchalant, “Um, nothing. What are you doing?”
“Trying to make plans with you,” Chloe says brightly. “Do you like ice skating?”
“Ice skating?” Beca echoes with a blank look on her face. The very idea helps her to overlook the first part of Chloe’s statement—a good thing really, considering Beca is sure she would choke in response. “Dude, I’m lucky if I don’t fall over my own feet just walking around as normal… You want me on ice?”
Chloe’s breathy chuckle sounds through the phone again, and Beca cannot help but wonder what it must be like, to be so openly breezy as Chloe seems to be. Beca is much more withdrawn; they truly are very much opposites. “Okay, maybe not ice skating then. Do you want to hang out with me tomorrow, though? I’ll find us something to do.”
“I…” Beca pauses briefly, head gently tilting to the side, and she continues before she can even stop herself. “Really? You wanna hang out with me?”
“Um, yeah?” Chloe states, though it is more a bewildered question than a statement, almost like she doesn’t understand Beca’s apparent disbelief. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Beca sinks back into the pillows a bit, heat once again rising to her cheeks. She wonders why she can’t just be normal, accept that someone actually wants to spend time with her. “Um, I don’t know,” she finally responds, teeth nibbling onto the inside of her cheek.
“Exactly,” Chloe says, breezy tone returning to her voice. Beca can picture the way she nods her head in confirmation. “So, do you want to?”
Realizing quickly that she hasn’t yet given Chloe a real response, Beca does so perhaps a little too eagerly. “Yeah. Yeah, I do,” she says, and she can practically hear the grin in Chloe’s voice as she responds.
“Awes! I’m going with my moms to buy some new stuff for the puppies at some point, but I have a car, I can come by and pick you up afterwards. Text me your address?”
Considering she doesn’t yet have her license—she has her permit, she’s totally working on the full license—Beca cannot help but be impressed by Chloe’s apparent ability to drive. The very idea causes a small smile to rise to her lips, but for some reason, Beca makes sure to quickly bite it back. “Yeah, okay. Um, I’m pretty much free all day, so whenever is fine.”
“Okay,” Chloe says brightly. “I’m gonna go check on the puppies, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” Beca nods, legs stretching out onto the mattress in front of her. “Alright. See you tomorrow, then.”
Chloe’s quick bye! precedes a quiet, contented hum, before the line goes dead, and Beca doesn’t quite understand the strange elation to wash over her in response. She is sure it is just because Chloe is really nice, and that she hadn’t expected to make a friend so quickly, especially not one as pretty and genuinely vibrant as Chloe, but she makes a point not to question it.
She has barely had the chance to set down her phone before a new text comes through.
Chloe 🌻
your phone voice is cute
address?
At that, Beca’s cheeks darken at least ten shades of red.