Chapter Text
Becka let Agnes have a shower first, while she sat on the edge of the bed staring at the floor and waiting.
They were going to Daisy’s parents' shop today and Becka couldn’t stop thinking about her. She realised that even with the months they’d spent together in Gilead, she still barely knew anything about her- she hadn't even known that her parents had both died.
She guessed they were similar in that way now-parentless.
It oddly made her feel closer to Daisy, having something in common always seemed to do that- even with someone you easily get annoyed with. She didn’t want to say dislike, Daisy had done too much to help them for Becka to still feel that way.
There was a knocking at the door that made her jump, four harsh bangs that sounded like they would make her fist ache.
She stood cautiously, it was early in the morning if she read the sun correctly. With light steps she walked over-then the bangs came again, harsh and sudden.
Becka felt her hands begin to sweat, did something happen? Did Gilead find them? Was this the end of their freedom?
Her hand gripped the door with a shaking grip, before she ripped it open suddenly, and there standing before her- heaving and flushed- was June.
Usually, calm, cool and collected June.
Who’s hands were shaking and lungs were struggling to pull in air, “Is Hannah here? S-she’s not in her room.”
Becka's eyes were wide as she took in her the woman’s distraught state, it was a straight 180 from the woman she’d been with the last day and a half.
“She’s in the shower, she slept here last night,” answered Becka, voice trying to be comforting. She opened the door wider and let June come in.
The sound of running water must’ve soothed her because she pressed a hand to her chest and rubbed- sighing out of relief.
“I’m sorry,” she took another big breath, one that actually filled her lungs, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Becka shrugged lightly, “You didn’t.”
“Right. Well, when you're both done come down to the bottom floor. We’ll be in the dining hall waiting.”
“We?”
“Yeah. Me, Daisy and Garth.”
Becka felt an annoyance pinch at her skull when his name left June's lips, he was always just there. He was a grown man, can’t he go do grown man things and leave them alone? Becka didn’t even care what they were, just as long as they were done away from her and Agnes.
“I’ll tell Agnes, when she’s out.”
“Thank you.”
With that she left, running a still quivering hand through her hair. Becka thought it was odd to see her so shaken, she thought she was unshakeable- the same woman who had liberated Boston and led the fight. Switchblades and sedatives in hand.
Then here she was, a woman reduced to a worried mess when her daughter didn’t answer the door. Becka understood on some level though, love had made her own mind and body do some otherwise unthinkable things.
Love drove you crazy, love had driven her to kill in its name.
Love had driven them both to kill.
For Hannah, for Agnes. For the girl with a bright smile and kind eyes.
The bathroom door opened, releasing a flood of steam into the once dry room.
Agnes walked out, towel around her hair, squeezing the water out slowly. Wearing the same clothes they’d been wearing for too long now, they really did need to get new clothes today.
She smelled of hotel soap and mint toothpaste. Becka leaned closer to remember the scent. Agnes looked at her with worried eyes, “What was that banging? Are you okay?”
Becka nodded, “I’m fine. It was your mom, she was asking where you were,” answered Becka as she locked the front door again, “Don’t worry, I told her you slept in here last night.”
Agnes' eyes widened a little at that. Becka's eyebrows drew together in surprise when Agnes' face coloured a little, “Oh! Thank you, was she alright?”
Becka walked towards the bathroom, “Yeah, a little worried I think? But she calmed down and told us to go downstairs when we were done.”
“Are we eating? I’m literally starving.”
Becka laughed a little as she stepped into the bathroom, “Yeah, food hall.”
“I hope this one doesn’t come with aunts on the prowl.” Joked Agnes, as she sat on the bed, still towel drying her hair.
Becka closed the door behind her, not before laughing to herself at Agnes' words. She stripped off her clothes, folding them and placing them on the sink, before turning on the shower. She was careful to not get water on her bandages as she cleaned herself.
It ended up being an annoying shower, most of her body had to be out of the water spray to not get the bandages soaked, so she ended up being half freezing and half warm.
At least she was clean. Cleanliness was Godliness, as the Aunts had said.
They walked down the hotel stairs together, bumping shoulders and brushing hands as they went, Agnes was talking about their plans today. Daisy’s vintage store, Backa supposed it must fully belong to her now, there was no one else that could own it. Not anymore.
June had been a little lacklustre with her information regarding how to get to the dinning hall, she said ‘first floor’ but neither of the girls knew how to read the numbers plastered on the stair walls.
They both just continued down the stairs until they stopped, shrugging at each other and praying this was the right one.
If the smell of hot and fresh food was real, then they had made it to the right floor. They pushed open the doors and were blasted with the loud cacophony of sounds: knives scrapping porcelain plates, crying babies shrieking, morning chatter and a loud voice calling both their names.
The familiar voice of Daisy luckily cut through the noise, she was sitting at a table with Garth and June, hand waving in the air and a large smile on her face.
Becka tried to focus on walking over to the table, but the amount of strangers surrounding her was overwhelming. She was used to the noise of people eating and socialising, they shared lunch with the entire Aunt Lydia school everyday. But she knew those voices, those squeals- these were new. These were strange and foreign.
Then there were the boys, the men. Who sat at every table, loud and unaware of Becka's inner dread. She’d been taught so long not to interact with men, for interaction can be seen as temptation. And a girl who tempted men deserved to be punished.
She swallowed hard, like trying to swallow a sharp rock. But she was strong, she had to adjust if she wanted to survive. So she took the first step, Agnes with her- by her side. Probably feeling the same conflict and panic she did, but Agnes held it together more than she did, Becka had always admired that about her, her ability to soak up hardship and keep her face calm.
Before she’d managed to make it even five steps, a man bashed into her, strong shouldered and hard.
She stumbled back, crying out when the force jolted her side. Agnes was upon her in an instant, but not before glaring at the man and telling him to “Look where he’s going!”
Becka breathed in through her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut, and trying to steady herself.
Agnes leaned down into her face, “Is it your stomach?”
Becka nodded, fighting the tears that threatened to escape her eyes and invite how her heartbeat was in her ears, “It’s fine. Don’t worry.” She ground out, rather unconvincingly, if Agnes' face was anything to go by.
“Don’t do that Becka, please,” whispered Agnes, rubbing a hand up and down her arm, “Come on, sitting down will help.” She grabbed Becka's hand and led her protectively the rest of the way. The height helped- Agnes towered over a lot of people, she used it to her advantage here. Keeping Becka in front of her and watching to make sure no one forgot how to walk like a normal person.
Becka sat down heavily into a wooden chair, Agnes sliding into the one next to her. June leaned over the table and called her name, “Have you taken any medicine?”
“No, I forgot too, it wasn’t that bad this morning.”
“Give me your key.”
“What?”
June reiterated, “I’ll go get it for you, I just need your room key.”
She fiddled in her jogging bottom pocket before latching onto the smooth plastic and pulling it out, handing it over to the older woman who thanked her quickly and walked off towards the stairs.
“Shit Becka, that dude hit you pretty hard,” grunted Daisy, irritation seeping into her words.
“He should’ve been looking where he was going,” mumbled Agnes, stroking the back of Becka's hand with her thumb.
Garth stayed quiet, but gave her an awkwardly pitying look. It was for the best, Becka was uncomfortable and in pain, the last thing she wanted to hear was his dull tones.
And then she was forced to.
He looked towards Agnes and asked, “How did you sleep?”
Becka could seriously use some secateurs right now- joking. She would never do that, not again.
Unless she had too.
But it did make her feel irrationally angry, which made her stomach burn more, she leaned an elbow on the table and then dropped her head into her hand, focusing on breathing.
Agnes, for her part, didn’t even look at Garth, and even if she did hear him- she had no intention of answering. Instead she began stroking Becka's back, up and down- like she was nauseous- which she was a little bit to be honest, but she thought that was just hunger.
“June will be back soon, don’t worry.”
Becka just pushed her head into her palm harder, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. Like her mother had taught her when her period cramps would overwhelm her.
Agnes looked up when she heard the dining hall doors fly open again, eyes brightening when she saw a short woman and blonde hair- paper bag in hand.
June arrived at the table in seconds, crouching down before Becka and ripped open the paper.
Inside was a glass bottle, filled with a clear liquid. Becka hoped to god it worked- and quickly or she was about to slam her head into the table and knock herself out for some relief.
June turned the bottle over, reading something on the back of it before grabbing the little cup that was also in the box and pouring the necessary amount in.
Agnes asked Becka to sit up so she could take it without choking. Taking the cup from June's hand and bringing it to Becka's lips. Coaxing her into swallowing the liquid quickly.
Becka screwed her eyes shut at the awful flavour. It tasted incredibly bitter, but was masked slightly by the taste of sugar and citrus. But it wasn’t enough to cover the chemical taste and Becka wished she could spit it out onto the table.
Agnes would kill her if she refused something that would help. So she swallowed, hard and quick. Hoping to miss as many taste buds as she could.
Agnes then grabbed a cup of water that was already waiting for them, bringing that to Becka's lips and letting her wash the taste away.
June sighed when it was done, whipping a hand down her face before standing and slipping back into her seat.
“That looked like it tasted like shit.” Laughed Daisy, trying to lighten the mood as usual.
“I’ve never tried it. But I’d have to say it’s probably close,” ground out Becka.
She looked at Agnes then, who looked a little more relaxed now that Becka did. The pain was still overwhelming and June warned her that it may take at least 15 minutes to fully start working. But maybe it was the lack of anything in her stomach that made the effects begin a lot faster than normal.
“You’ll need to eat, that stuff can mess with you on an empty stomach,” commanded June, motherly voice taking over.
“Thank you.” Smiled Becka with tight lips as the pain faded slowly.
“You’re welcome. Now, go eat,” she looked at Agnes as well, “both of you.”
Agnes stood first, waiting for Becka's slower rise and took her hand again. They seemed to always be holding hands at the moment, Becka was starting to feel like something was missing if long fingers weren’t threaded through hers.
The dining hall had an insane amount of food, held in little metal containers. Agnes looked around, trying to figure out what to do. They were both used to plates being placed on the table, waiting for them. Or Rosa placing a plate down in front of her in the early morning.
They were always full of vegetables and clean foods- Gilead was always health focused.
Good food meant good wombs.
Becka watched as Agnes dragged her over to a stack of plates. Grabbing two and handing one to Becka.
Then Agnes let them over to the selection, they both stared at everything for what felt like ages, until a man spoke to them, “Do you want some help?”
He was dressed in all white, sharp lined clothes and a metal spatula in his hand.
Was he a cook? Where were the Martha’s? She’s never seen a man cook, let alone see one who seemingly enjoyed it. His voice was deep and he was an older man with a big moustache and bushy eyebrows, the kind eyes is what made Becka relax though.
Agnes looked a little frightened, but she pushed through- Becka needed to eat. June's instructions rang in her head, “Yes please, what is..everything?”
He smiled widely, crows feet crinkling at the edges of his eyes, he pointed with his spatula at each different item.
Hash browns-which he told them were just grated potatoes. Then there was fried eggs, which they’ve both had many times before, there was beans in a tomato sauce- which Becka thought looked rather unappetising.
He moved on to a different section, and they followed: there was smoked bacon, thick sausages, pink ham and a sliced meat section which bewildered Becka. Then there was what he called a pastry section, croissants, bread buns, toast.
Finally they were done and Becka had never been so overwhelmed, how did people choose? She didn’t even know what she liked?
Anges thanked the man sincerely, to which he just smiled.
They walked back over to the first section he explained.
“Should we just try everything?” Asked Agnes, eyes scanning over the large selection.
“Might as well,” shrugged Becka, stepping forward with Agnes. They both ended up dumping so much food on their plates it was hard to balance.
When they sat back at the table, everyone there stared at their plates with wide eyes, Daisy was the first to laugh at the sheer volume.
“Hungry?” Joked Daisy, stabbing at her egg with a stupid smile on her face.
“We didn’t know what to get,” shyly answered Agnes, a little embarrassed.
June just laughed, “I’m all for it, why not?”
“Right,” confirmed Becka, picking up her knife and fork, trying to figure out what part she should attack first. She went for the familiar, eggs on toast. Ignoring the three sausages, four pieces of bacon, two hash browns, a crossaint, about two beans, and finally- a piece of toast.
——-
The walk to Daisy’s parents’ shop wasn’t long, but it was weird walking in a street unsupervised. Becka kept turning around, expecting aunt Vidalia to pop out and scream at them- wielding her wacking stick she loved so dearly.
Becka tried to keep her gaze forward, but it kept drifting. Everything here was so strange, mostly the people. She’s never seen boys and girls mix that weren’t husband and wife or about to be.
And then there were big groups of them, three girls and two boys, laughing- pushing each other about.
Agnes had to pull her out of the way when one was shoved by their friend and stumbled towards her. Two blows in one day would surely be her limit.
She tried to ignore how her stomach clenched at Agnes, making her walk on the left of her against the wall, so no one could get close to her.
They arrived at their destination quickly, it didn’t look that large from the outside but Becka assumed it got bigger once they went in. There was a number on the glass above the door. Once she couldn’t read of course, she assumed that was the shop's name or something.
The glass was covered in cardboard, blocking their view inside, torn pieces stuck to the glass with tape or glue.
There were flowers and candles all around the entrance, big bouquets with blooming flowers, some old, some new. There were letters or teddy’s sitting within the flowers, small bears holding hearts.
Becka assumed it was a memorial of sorts, it reminded her of their offerings to aunt Lydia’s statues. She assumed all the little things had different meanings, and different hopes.
Rather than fertility or fruitfulness, she hoped they were for sorrow, prayers for a safe journey home. Prayers for Daisy’s healing.
Becka knew they were murdered by Gilead. Anges had told her on the way over, whispered it in her ear, hoping Daisy wouldn’t hear.
It wasn’t gossip, Agnes just warned Becka not to bring anything up that might upset her.
Daisy stood outside the door, looking at all the flower arrangements. This must’ve been the first time she saw it in months, she’d been away so long- trapped in Gilead's walls.
Now she was back, and Becka assumed the grief was back too. Hitting like a punch to the head.
Daisy seemed to freeze a little, before shaking her head harshly and shoving a hand in her pocket to pull out a little gold key.
Showing it in the lock and twisting the door open.
She pulled them all inside, switched on the lights so the room glowed orange and red, before shutting the door and locking it again behind them.
Becka looked around, the place was full of vibrant colours and lamps, so many lamps.
Tassels were everywhere, it reminded her faintly of curtains, but she wouldn’t mention that.
Daisy let them just walk around a bit, naming certain things that they lingered on too long.
“Um well June did give me a list..but I sorta forgot it so,” mumbled Daisy really quickly, hoping they actually couldn’t hear her.
At both their defeated looks she rubbed the back off her head and said, “Yeah…sorry.”
She clapped her hands together, bringing back up her energy, “But, I can wing this!”
Becka just sighed at Daisy and followed her lead.
“Okay so first, you need essentials like underwear and all that.. jazz,” she led them towards the back left of the shop, to a little section with a couple racks.
“I know it’s called a vintage shop, but I swear all of this stuff is new,” she emphasised the word new, “That would probably give you a crazy uti.” Muttered Daisy to herself.
She started searching through the rack, Becka noticed how there was just about every colour of bra possible, she’d never seen one outside of the modest white ones her and all the plums were given, once they became of age.
“Do you guys know what size you are?” She spun around looking at them both. Cringing slightly at the awkward faces they both held.
“Right. You had tailors,” sighed Daisy, turning her head up and groaning at the ceiling before locking herself in and grabbing a measuring tape roll. She pulled it taught between each hand until it made a snapping soind, “Okay, let’s do this.”
They then spent the next fourty minutes being spun about and measured by Daisy, she was lethal with a tape measure, forcing them into all sorts of contortionary poses to get their inseems or outseems or whatever.
Finally she was done, and went back to the rack, plucking out the right sizes for each girl and pushing it into their arms. Then she led them toward the changing rooms, shoved them each into a separate cubicle and asked them to try them on.
Becka stood in front of the mirror with two bras in her hands and so many questions. Daisy went full work mode, she’d never seen anything like it.
She had to laugh a little, quietly so as to not let Daisy know.
Everything fit perfectly and she was just happy to put her clothes back on and leave the cubicle that smelt of dust and used clothes.
“Both good?” Asked Daisy, looking at both girls with a waiting smile.
when they nodded she beamed a little, “How did you learn to do that?” Asked Becka.
“My parents would make me work shifts here every now and again, you pick it up after a while.” If talking about her parents upset her- she didn’t show it, instead she sounded proud of herself- Becka thought she should’ve been.
Daisy then led them over to the actual clothes racks, there must’ve been hundreds of items, all strewn about on racks with seemingly no order.
“Pick anything that looks good to you, then go try them on. Go crazy with it.” Emphasised Daisy, looking around herself.
Agnes seemed excited, if Becka read her eyes correctly. Agnes' gaze fell on all the options with enthusiasm, she had always loved dressing up.
Becka on the other hand had been more reluctant, it took three seamstresses to find a dress that she even semi liked- even then she was still uncomfortable in it.
She scanned the options, hands running through the different fabrics, she stopped on something that caught her eye, pulled it out off the rack and held it up to see clearer.
It was dark blue, with the fabric lightening nearer the middle of the leg. They were like trousers but cut off near the knees. Becka thought they looked more comfortable than anything she’d ever worn. Maybe not more than the jogging bottoms she had on now, but still.
Just as she went to ask Daisy what they were, Agnes called out to her, “Do you like this?,” she held up a dress, it had white floral patterns all over it and was a deep royal blue. Shorter than she’d ever seen a dress be, it must’ve ended around her thighs if she wore it, and it had sleeves that would only cover a small part of her shoulder, the cut was lower than she thought was legal, “I think you’d look really pretty in it.”
Becka didn’t know what to say, she was conflicted by Ange's smile and her own inner dread of having to wear another dress that would make her skin feel like it was itching with wrong-ness. But Becka had always been a loser when it came to Agnes, so she slotted the bottoms she held back onto the rack and walked over with a smile, nodding and agreeing now pretty it was.
She swallowed hard before taking the dress from Agnes hands and letting herself be dragged to the changing rooms.
The dress was heavy in her hands as she stood in the cubicle- Agnes outside waiting for her to show it off.
She clenched the material and remembered all the times she was forced to wear similar things by Gilead and its rules. How many balls or parties had she attended in dresses that grazed her shoes and gloves that trapped her arms.
The dress fit well, Agnes had gotten the size right even if Daisy had only quickly shown them what shape number to look for.
Becka stared at herself in the mirror, she’d never seen her body in something so revealing, so tight. She looked at her knees and calves, and saw the way the dress showed even more skin when she moved.
She tried not to feel guilt, this was normal- girls dressed like this all the time. It wasn’t even really immodest, but certain ideals had been installed in her. This went against a lot of them.
For Agnes sake, she tried to like it- tried to imagine wearing it outside and not minding the way people would perceive her. She tried not to think about what kind of girl she would be, the kind of girl who wore clothes like this. The kind of girl who enjoyed the swish of a skirt around her knees, or a bow tight at the base of her ponytail, Becka tried to be a girl who liked what a girl was supposed to.
She shook her head angrily, wiping a hand down her face and waiting until the anxious flush of her cheeks returned to its normal colour.
“Are you finished?”
“Yeah, I’m now coming.”
Becka pulled back the curtains and tried not to look as awkward as she felt, tried to keep her hands unfisted even when she wanted to grind her nails into her palm.
Agnes seemed to notice- she always did with Becka - eyebrows drawing in concern as she stood from the chair, “You look beautiful Becka, what’s wrong?”
Becka shook her head instantly, “Nothing, it’s just new is all.”
Daisy walked up to her then, eyes looking over Becka's stiff posture in the dress and the heat rising high in her cheeks, Daisy thought about the clothes she had seen Becka look at before Agnes called her.
She ran off quickly, leaving the two girls talking- her hands grabbed the denim quickly, before rapidly searching for something else. She found it and threw them over her arm as well.
Daisy is out of breath by the time she comes back and Becka is trying not to be frustrated by her heaving.
“Um, while you look absolutely lovely Becka. How about I style you a little?” Becka looked at her with a scowl, trying to suppress her frustration at this entire experience. She looked at Agnes who looked encouraging and gave in.
“Daisy will know more than me. Why not?” Questioned Agnes.
“Fine.” She grumbled the word and walked over to Daisy, taking the clothes out of her hands with the last silver of politeness she possessed.
She stomped back into the changing room and threw the clothes onto the chair. Pressing her fists against her eyes and willing the tears gathering to go away. God why was this happening to her? Why couldn’t she just be normal? Be as God intended her to be.
Life would be easier that way. Sometimes she felt like a freak.
With a sigh, she took a deep breath and took off the dress, standing there in just her underclothes staring at the ones Daisy picked out for her.
It took her a second to realise it was the same one she put back, the same deep blue that lightened near the knees. Daisy also brought a top, it was checkered with buttons running down the front that would hold it together. A pocket on the breast. Then there was a smaller top, a thin white piece that had two straps and dipped into a semi circle on the neck.
She slipped on the bottoms, one socked foot at a time, pulling them up and over her hips. Doing the zipper up with shaking fingers and popping the button through with lighter breaths.
She looked in the mirror, saw the way they cut off around her knees, they looked like something she’d seen a boy wearing in the street, at the time she thought he looked cool. They sat relatively low on her hips, an inch or so below her belly button.
She picked up the tin white tip next, skipping it over her head and pulling it down her body.
Next she picked up the shirt, slipping an arm through each sleeve. She decided to leave it open, letting it hang loose around her frame. It covered a lot of her front but still let the under top be visible.
She turned towards the mirror slowly, she was scared to properly look at herself, to see how she had changed in so little time. Or maybe she was always this way, maybe she just never had the chance to see it.
But she saw it now, staring into the mirror and taking it in.
The clothes made her look boyish, masculine in a way Gilead would have strung her up for. Her arms were out and loose, no blazer to hide them now and the bottoms hid her figure in a way her dresses accentuated.
It was so different, but she liked it.
Daisy called out to her, “Are you okay? You didn’t die in there did you?” Becka didn’t realise how long she’d been staring into the mirror.
“I’m finished.”
She still stepped out more comfortable but still a little awkward, that was just the way she was- but her posture was more relaxed and that flush from before was gone.
Daisy thought she looked relaxed even, the jorts suited her really well, and Daisy was proud of her own styling.
Agnes for her part looked thoughtful, her eyes traced over every inch of Becka, trailing over the denim on her hips and the shirt that hung loose and baggy around her frame.
“You look amazing,” murmured Agnes, still looking at random parts of Becka, "I don’t know what I was thinking with that dress.” Laughed Agnes.
Agnes looked up then, cheeks slightly warm and smiling wildly at Becka.
“You look cool dude, the jorts suit you,” smiled Daisy as well, voice warm and impressed.
“Jorts?” Questioned Becka, looking down at herself when Agnes' gaze became too intense.
“The style of Jean you wearing, their called jorts,”
“I’m still lost. What’s Jean?”
“Fuck me. Okay right,” Daisy seemed to remember how sheltered they were then, she didn’t realise just how much they had to learn, “Jeans are what I’m wearing, they're like hard trousers?” Her description sounded a little unsure, “usually they're some shade of blue but you can get some in any colour really.”
“Are these ones for children? Is that why they're so short?” Questioned Agnes.
“No, they're shorts. Jean shorts.”
Becka just looked at her with another ‘what?’ Face, and Daisy had to let out a groan, she was not good at this.
“Okay so, shorts are jeans or any other material that starts at your waist and ends at your knees. You wear them when it’s hot. So you don’t like, set on fire.”
Agnes seemed incredibly alarmed at that last sentence and went to open her mouth, “Before you even ask, no people don’t actually set on fire. I was being dramatic,” she warned, “Which I will refrain from being in the future...” that last part she said to herself and herself alone.
Becka looked down at her ‘jorts’, she thought the name honestly sounded stupid but it didn’t matter, she liked them. A lot.
“Well, I’ll grab a couple more things similar to Becka's preferences. And in the meantime you two can find something Agnes likes,”
Agnes grabbed a clothing item she had taken from the rack, held it up to Becka and asked, “What do you think?”
Becka scanned her eyes over it, it was a white knitted jumper, the neckline dove down into a v-shape and the fabric around the wrists was cinched tighter than the rest.
In her other hand was a pair of light blue jeans, Becka thought they were pretty, she thought they would suit Agnes.
“They’re pretty. You’ll look really pretty.”
Agnes just scrunched her nose at Becka in the way that always made her heart feel like it was on overdrive. Before stepping into the changing room.
Not before Daisy asked to see the clothes she picked out, so she could collect some similar pieces for her as well.
That’s when Daisy decides to walk over, a bulging plastic bag in her hand, she hands it to Becka who looks at her hesitantly, “I think you’ll like these, don’t worry.”
Becka looked apprehensive still and wanted to dig through the entire bag.
“Okay really? I did well the first time. Just trust me?”
“Fine,” she took the bag in her hand, “thank you.”
Daisy moved to stand next to her, lowering her head slightly and keeping her voice small, “You know nothing's wrong with it, wearing clothes like that. Just in case you thought there was.”
Becka looked down at her shoes, studying them instead of looking at Daisy.
“I know loads of girls who dress like it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, of course. And I mean, I’m not exactly miss sundress and heels myself.” Laughed Daisy, looking down at her scuffed converse and worn in jeans,“Besides, Agnes didn’t seem to mind it.”
Becka's breath caught then, she turned to Daisy with crunched eyebrows, “What do you mean?”
“She couldn’t stop staring at you.” Giggled Daisy, crossing her arms over her chest, “You know, maybe your feelings aren’t as unrequited as you think.” Shrugged Daisy.
“Don’t say things like that,” warned Becka, voice low with annoyance, "Besides, Agnes likes someone else.”
“Tell me you're not talking about Garth?” Groaned Daisy, rolling her eyes with force.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” mumbled Becka, as much as she disliked Garth, she wasn’t going to expose Agnes’ secrets like that.
“Jesus Becka he’s like twenty, and even if she did like him at some point,” argued Daisy, “I don’t think she does anymore.”
Becka had heard enough, Daisy was being delusional, Becka had seen the way Agnes looked at Garth, that was real, it hurt enough to be real, “Stop,” she didn’t mean to let her voice rise. She calmed down before continuing, “I don’t want to talk about it. please.”
Daisy seemed to sigh softly, uncrossing her arms and looking at Becka softly, “Okay. I’m sorry.” Daisy smiled at her slightly, “Just be a little nicer to yourself? You’re always so harsh.”
Becka didn’t answer, she just waited in silence until Agnes walked out the changing room.
The sight made Becka's breath stop.
Agnes had her hair down and perfectly curly, the ends of it brushed her shoulders. The knitted jumper complimented her skin tone perfectly, and Becka had to remember to breathe when she saw a slither of Agnes collar bone.
The jeans were cute, they were tight around the hips before flaring out around her calves.
Becks thought she had never looked prettier, never looked more perfect or sweet than she did in this moment.
Daisy clapped when she saw her, encouraging Agnes to give them a little spin and show off her new outfit. Giggling as she turned.
“You look so good!,” squealed Daisy, before handing a bag Agnes’ way, “Okay, I’ve collected some other clothes that I think fit your style. Along with some other essentials like socks and shit.”
“Thank you Daisy.”
Both girls watched as Daisy smiled at them brightly before waking over towards the till and going behind it. She pulled open one of the draws and fished in it until her eyes lit up in a way that screamed she’d found what she was looking for- she pulled out a big black rectangular piece of metal? Grinning to herself as she pressed the front and it began glowing.
“Fuck yes. Still charged.”
“What is that?” Asked Agnes.
Daisy looked up, eyebrows raised in question, “It’s a phone, it's for communicating and stuff,” she began tapping on the phone with a rapid pace, "At least it used to be, people use these things to do some absolute bullshit sometimes.”
Becka watched as Daisy seemed to tap a few more times before finally sighing out relief.
“Are you both ready to leave?” Questioned Daisy, Pickering the phone and pulling out her keys once again.
Both girls nodded and Daisy led them out of the shop, not before turning off the lights. She pushed the key back into the lock and turned it slowly.
Daisy turned to face them again, excitement dancing on her face, “We have one more place to visit and then we’re done for the day.” Daisy rocked on her toes excitedly as she spoke.
“Where are we going?” Becka was starting to feel overly tired, she really couldn’t be bothered to visit another shop or something.
“It’s a surprise.”
Becka just groaned lightly and followed Daisy’s lead. Agnes bumped their shoulders together and gave her a worried look, “You okay?”
Becka looked over at Agnes, trying not to blush at how pretty she still looked in these nice new clothes and replied, “Yeah. Just a little tired.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah don’t worry.”
“Okay good,” Agnes bumped her shoulder lightly with her own, before adding, “I know I already said it, but you do look really awesome in that outfit. I’d even say cool.”
——-
The walk was longer than they both expected, they’d travelled past the bustle of the city, past the noise and the people and the colour. They’d walked into streets lined with houses, ones with little gardens.
Becka thought it reminded her of her own house, a small front garden, trees lining the pavement, cars sat outside each house. The people were different though, there was less blue, less black suits.
But the feeling was the same, something comforting- familiar in a way, she watched as two little boys kicked a ball at each other in their front garden. Smiles and childish laughs echoing in the warm air.
Eventually Daisy turned and walked into a houses’ drive, Becka was worried they were about to break in and enter some random house.
But then the door pulled open before they even reached it. June stood in the doorway with a big smile on her face waiting for them to reach her.
“Did you get everything you needed?” She looked at all the girls, but mostly focused on Daisy.
Daisy answered for all of them “Yeah, of course.”
June looked at their new clothes and gave them each a thumbs up, “You both look wonderful.”
June pulled the door open wider, stepping back and ushering everyone inside, “Come on.”
Becka stepped into the house and smelt soft notes of fresh cotton, lavender and something sickly sweet. The hosie wasn’t particularly large, nothing compared to Agnes’, but it was a lot bigger than her childhood home.
Her feet scuffed against the wood panel floor and her eyes traced the white walls, gaze snagging on photos that were pinned against the plaster.
It was a small wooden frame, three people in the picture: a younger looking June, a June who didn’t have lines around her eyes, then a man-with tanned skin and curly hair. Finally, there was a tiny baby, nestled within June's arms, young and sweet.
It must’ve been Agnes- or Hannah, at the time.
Becka had known Agnes since as long as she could remember, her first friend, her first crush, and eventually- first and only love. It was nice to see a version of her she didn’t know, it felt like there was still so much more to learn about her.
Agnes didn’t notice the photo on the wall, she was too busy talking with June a few steps ahead.
Becka followed them into the kitchen, noting the different balloons tapped to the walls, then there was the cake that sat in the middle of the island table. Big and white, with candles planted all over the top, alight and burning slowly.
June picked up the cake with both hands, and brought it towards Becka and Agnes, who ended up standing close enough that their shoulders brushed.
“I know this is probably silly to buy a cake, but I think we should celebrate. You girls went through so much to get here, I just want to show you it’s something to be proud of- to celebrate.”
Agnes smiled wide at the cake, at June and then softer at Becka. Turning her head and asking, “At the same time?”
Becka just smiled back.
They both leaned forward in sync and blew the candles out with a harsh blow. Daisy pulled a party popper in the background and began clapping and making odd whooping sounds.
June laughed and turned to put the cake back down onto the table, before diving towards Becka and Agnes, drawing them both into a hug, not before dragging Daisy over as well.
She whispered low and sincere, but they were so close they still heard, “Welcome home, all of you.”