Chapter 17 – You don't think pink's my colour?

Alexa's POV

Seven days and thirteen hours exactly have passed since Beck and I found Tony's body. The memory of him sat there in the woods keeps me up at night but I'm trying my hardest to get things back to some form of normality. My parents have been hovering around me all week, waiting for me to crumble and give in to the horror of last Sunday, but that is the one thing I straight up refuse to do. I can't break down; I have to be strong. It's the only way I'll ever be able to move past this.

I know people are worried about me. It didn't take very long for the news to spread around town. It's Redwater Pine, after all. Darcy finds every excuse under the sun to call and check up on me multiple times a day, Jenny and Stuart told me I could take as much time off work as I need to and Pete from the shop has offered to home deliver our groceries to save me the trouble. Heck, even Dylan is being nice to me. Dylan is never nice to me.

I love them all for it, I really do, but a giant part of me wishes they'd just let me move on. If people stopped talking about it then maybe I could stop thinking about it. According to the news it was the result of an animal attack, some kind of wild cat or wolf that they reckon escaped from some zoo down South. The prospect doesn't seem quite right to me, although the animalistic nature of Tony's wounds can't be denied.

To me, the scene was far too well set out to be some wild creature.

"Alex," Cora says, dragging me out of my thoughts as she stands in front of where I sit on the sofa. The TV screen stares blankly out from behind her. Apparently I forgot to switch it on. "There's someone at the door."

Weird. I didn't even hear the knock.

It's probably mum on her way back from the shop; she's always forgetting her keys. No matter how much Pete insists on home delivery, mum refuses to accept the offer and instead has taken the week's shopping upon herself. I haven't left the house all that much since the incident. I can't quite hack all the stares just yet. This is the most interesting thing to happen in Redwater Pine in – well – ever, probably. Unfortunately for me I'm caught right in the middle of it. And Beck, of course, although he's been receiving weird stares from people since he first got to this town. He says he's used to it by now.

I ruffle my sister's hair as I stand up and walk out of the room, moving down the hallway to open the door.

As it turns out, it's not my mum.

"Hey, stranger," I say to Beck as he leans against the wall, waiting for me to invite him in. My mood instantly lifts when I see his smile.

Beck is no exception to the squad of people who have been hovering around me all week. Only, with him, I don't mind so much. It's been kind of nice having him around, actually. Probably because he's the only one who isn't acting like I'm some china doll. He's been around because he wants to be, not because he feels he has to be – he even told me so himself.

"Alright, Blondie?" he asks, pushing off the wall and stepping in the door as I move back to let him through.

"Beck!" a small exclamation sounds from behind me and I quickly turn to see Clara bounding down the stairs with a giant grin etched across her face.

"Careful," I tell her when she stumbles slightly on the last step and nearly falls flat on her face. She barely notices.

"Hey, Squirt," he says, having officially nicknamed her by her favourite Disney character. He was forced to watch Finding Nemo three times in a row on Tuesday with the girls. Apparently he's seen it plenty of times in his life and was able to quote almost the entire film which, in Clara's opinion, makes him the coolest person on the planet.

She grabs at his hand and all but drags him into the living room, leaving me to trail behind after them with a chuckle.

"Hi!" Cora chirps from where she sits in my vacated spot on the sofa.

I knew it wouldn't take long for the twins to warm up to him. They're only shy around new people until they realise they're going to be sticking around. As soon as that happens they turn into Velcro and after that they become pretty hard to shake, not that Beck seems to mind all that much.

In the end, the girls decide they want to do some drawing and so I grab the art box from next to the TV and help them get settled at the coffee table. As soon as they're equipped with paper and various coloured pencils, they quieten down and get to work. Clara starts drawing what looks like a hybrid cat-bird whilst Cora settles on a flower. Beck and I take a seat on the sofa and watch the two drawings unfold, but it's not long before the two drag him into drawing with them as well.

"Okay, okay," he eventually agrees, moving from next to me and settling on the floor next to them. "What should I draw?"

They ponder it for a while whilst Beck grabs a pencil from out of the box and claims a piece of blank paper. I smile at him as he humours my sisters, looking back and forth between them as he waits for an answer. There aren't many people I know who would give up their Monday afternoons to spend time babysitting my two hyperactive sisters – especially for free.

Beck really is one of a kind.

"How about Roofus?" I suggest, watching the smirk that forms on his lips. He glances at the girls and waits for their nods of approval before he sets to work.

Beck, as it turns out, can actually draw.

By the time he's finished with Roofus the creature on the page looks just like the thing sat out on our front doorstep. In fact, he's managed to make him look better, and all from memory, no less.

"Not bad," I say, earning a smile from him.

As soon as the girls learn of this newfound discovery they immediately start demanding different drawings: a dog, a car, a pony, a dolphin. They squabble over who gets to keep which pictures until I remind them both that they share a room. The arguments soon end. Before long, with a table full of Beck's drawings, they run out of doodle ideas that they want him to quickly sketch up.

"How about your sister?" he suggests, nodding at me. The two girls turn their attention to me as I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Me?" I ask sceptically as both girls rush to grab some more paper.

"Ooh, I wanna draw Alex!" Clara says excitedly as her twin chimes in a, "me too!"

I roll my eyes but don't protest. If it keeps them quiet, it keeps me happy.

This time around, Beck takes a lot longer with his sketch, and he refuses to show me what he's doing as he shields his paper with the art box. I feel myself growing more awkward by the second under his steady gaze as he glances up at me for what feels like the millionth time.

"Ah, ah," he says as I try to peek over the box, covering the paper with his arm. "No peeking."

I let out a huff and lean back into the sofa cushions, waiting. To pass the time, I watch what the girls are drawing, taking note of the cucumber-sized nose that Cora has given me. Clara, on the other hand, has given me a button. Absolute masterpieces, the both of them.

After what feels like forever, Beck finally announces that he's finished.

First, he shows Clara and Cora, who each in turn purse their lips and scrutinise the drawing before giving him a thumbs up of approval.

Then, he shows me and it's, well, incredible.

"Wow."

"I know it's not as good as these two," he says, tapping the girls' drawings and receiving two beaming smiles in return. "I mean, I think Cora's got your nose spot on."

"Oh, you think so, huh?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Absolutely." He holds the picture up next to me and looks at the girls. "What do you two think?"

The girls giggle and Beck sends me a wink, an amused smirk gracing his lips.

Not half an hour later, though, I'm the one laughing as the smell of fresh nail polish fills the air. Beck, bless him, barely puts out a single complaint as the girls take a hand each and start covering his nails (and the surrounding skin) in pink. Clara has chosen a pastel shade for his left hand whilst Cora decided to go for the brightest colour of pink under the sun for his right.

It was Clara's idea to give his nails a makeover, and one I fully backed despite Beck's clear SOS look that I chose to ignore. As the two ran off to choose their weapons, I didn't miss the whisper-hissed "traitor" accusation coming from him, to which I just told him to think twice next time before saying I have a big nose.

"What?" he asks as I laugh, holding up Cora's half-finished hand to give me a better view. "You don't think pink's my colour?"

I laugh harder and Beck joins in as he places his hand back down for Cora to continue with. She gives him a disgruntled look, as if personally offended that he dared to move his hand without her consent, and he gives her a sheepish grin in return. I smile as I watch them, Clara's tongue poking out slightly in concentration as she tries (and fails) to keep her nail polish confined to the area of Beck's nail. Somehow, I'm not quite sure how, his thumb is covered all the way up to his knuckle. It's almost impressively bad.

"Aren't you working later?" I ask.

"Yeah," he replies, as if only suddenly remembering. The look on his face tells me that the regret is instant and real. I laugh some more. Luckily for him, I have a bottle of nail polish remover upstairs.

Once finished the girls refuse to let him clean up his nails, although not for lack of trying on his part. My mum arrives home not long after, barely able to suppress her laughter as the girls proudly present their work. She excuses herself and moves to the kitchen to unpack the groceries. Shortly after the undeniable sound of her cackles are heard, making Beck and I laugh as well.

The second the smell of cooking drifts down the hallway the girls race into the kitchen to see what's for dinner. I take the chance to rescue Beck, motioning for him to follow as I make my way out of the room and up the stairs.

"Where are we going?" he asks when we hit the top of the stairs.

"To fix your hands," I reply, moving to my door and pushing it open with a slight creak. "Now hurry up before they notice you're gone."

He chuckles slightly and follows me into the room, pushing the door to behind him as I head for my desk. I start searching, rummaging through bottles of perfume and deodorant.

I know it's around here somewhere... aha.

I grab the bottle of purple liquid and retrieve the cotton pads from the desk drawer, turning back to face him. It's only then that I realise he's busy inspecting my room, taking in the random little knickknacks I've picked up over the years that sit mostly on my bookshelf. A small collection of bear ornaments (don't ask me how I got into collecting those, I honestly have no idea), a shelf lined with books and, on the top shelf, a line of trophies and medals. I used to be quite the sportswoman back in school, I have to admit. Tennis was always my favourite. Or netball, maybe.

It seems to be the books that Beck's most interested in, though. I have a fairly eclectic taste, I guess, ranging from the old classics to more contemporary works - a couple of horror, some romance novels and a handful of science fiction. I don't have a go-to genre, always willing to give anything a read at least once.

He eventually peels his eyes away from the books, his attention caught instead by the Mickey Mouse teddy that takes pride of place resting against the pillows on my bed. He raises his eyebrow slightly and I feel my cheeks heat. It was an apology gift from my parents, given to me when they told me that they couldn't take me to Disneyland because my mum was currently pregnant with Olivia. I had been seven at the time and he's definitely aged since then. Still, I can't quite bring myself to give him up.

I clear my throat to regain his attention, successfully getting him to leave poor Mickey alone and move closer to me and the bottle of magical life-saving potion in my hand. I tell him to hold out his hands, not bothering to let him do it himself. The nail polish isn't properly dry yet and all he'd succeed in doing is getting bits of cotton fluff stuck to him. A battle I've had to endure a few times myself, I admit. I've never been the most patient with painting my nails – or makeup, for that matter. I usually just keep that quick and light and leave my nails bare. Unless there's some fancy thing I have to go to, of course which – let's face it – never really happens in Redwater. The last time I had to properly dress up was for my school leavers evening.

"So, how are you doing?" Beck asks as I'm halfway through tackling his first hand. "Really, I mean." I don't need to ask what he's talking about, his voice says it all. I don't look up at him as I reply, instead paying a little too much attention to the fleck of pink that refuses to leave his index finger.

"I'm fine." I keep my tone light, still not looking at him.

"Alex," he says, and the tone in his voice makes me want to look up at his face to see his expression. I don't, though. "If you want to talk about-"

"I don't," I interrupt. "I'm fine, Beck. Honestly."

He doesn't say anything more and after a while I eventually look up at him. He looks... conflicted. There really is no other word for it. Tied between letting it drop (like I clearly want him to) and making sure I'm really okay. It doesn't look like he's going to reach a decision any time soon, either.

"I promise," I tell him, dropping his first hand and getting started on the second. "In fact, I'm thinking of going back to work tonight."

It's true. The fact that I made that decision in the timeframe of approximately... the last seven seconds... doesn't matter and isn't worth being mentioned. The only way I'm going to get people treating me normal again is if I finally get back to being normal. Sure, I'll have to face the stares for the first few days and it's going to be awful, but I have to face them at some point. If even Beck is getting worried about me now, today is definitely that point.

"Really?" he asks, sounding surprised. I can't blame him. My parents had discussed it with me a few days ago and suggested that I take at least two weeks off from work. Not wanting to argue, I agreed. "You don't have to. I mean, we have it covered."

"I want to," I tell him truthfully. "Sitting around the house all the time is starting to drive me nuts."

"That's just because you're not used to actually having any time off," he reminds me. I shrug.

"Maybe," I agree. "I still want to go back, though. I'm pretty sure I'm well behind on my turn to collect the glasses and I'm sure you just can't wait to collect on that debt."

He smirks slightly, tilting his head a little as if mentally debating something.

"I might be willing to let that slide," he says. "Just this once."

I smile and set to work on his final nail, the rest of his fingers now officially pink-free. Well, for the most part, anyway. It seems Cora's pink has decided to stain his skin slightly. Just a little, though. It's barely noticeable, really.

"Hey," he says after I've finished with his nail and thrown the last cotton pad in the bin under the desk, linking his fingers through mine just as I'm about to let go of his hand. I stare at our hands in surprise for a few seconds before looking at him. "I know you don't want to talk about it which is fine. But if you ever did then-"

"I know where to find you," I say, giving his hand a light squeeze before letting it go. "Thanks, Beck."

I glance at the clock next to my bed and realise that if I really am planning on working tonight then I need to start getting ready. I need to be there in less than an hour and I'm yet to inform mum of my decision. I doubt she'll be happy but I know she won't stop me. I'm old enough to make up my own mind and she knows that, she has for a while now.

When Beck and I head downstairs he quickly says his goodbyes to my family. Apparently he has something he needs to do before his shift starts so I walk him to the front door and tell him I'll see him soon.

Somehow, the thought of having to face the outside world again is a little less daunting with the knowledge that he'll be there with me.