Promises Made, Promises Broken - SYTYCW (Bad Reputation)

Present Day (Chapter Fourteen) Tuesday

"Too late. They don't come this far at night."

"A cab?"

"Too expensive. And don't say you'll pay. I'd rather you give twenty bucks to my cause."

"I'll gladly give you twenty bucks for your cause," I told her.

"I don't take money from friends," she teased.

"Hmm." I tapped my chin with mock thoughtfulness. "I think somewhere in that sentence is a trick."

"Could be," she agreed, then called out, "Bob! We're heading home."

The older man appeared at the kitchen door. "You kids need a ride home? I'll be locking up in ten."

Tucker shook her head, and I glad that she chose to walk with me instead.

"All right," Bob agreed. "I'm glad the night was a success."

I followed Tucker out into the cool night air, and let her lead the way down the street.  After walking a block in silence, I grabbed her hand.  She didn't pull away, and I was so surprised, I stopped moving and looked down at her.

She smiled. "You scared?"

"Of what?"

"The neighbourhood."

"No," I said. "Are you?"

"Of course not."

"Then why are you letting me hold your hand?"

"I'm protecting you, of course."

"Of course," I agreed.

She laughed and started walking again.  I had no choice but to let go or be pulled along.  I chose the latter.

"Why aren't you nervous?" I asked.

"I grew up in an area like this."

"Did you?"

"Try not to sound so surprised."

"I'm just interested."

"By what? The fact that someone from the slums is as normal as you are?" She sounded annoyed. "Because I sometimes find it interesting that you're as normal as you are. I would expect someone as rich as you to be a total - "

I cut her off with a firm squeeze of her hand. "What I'm interested in is your life. And how you got from there to here."

"Oh.”

"Do you want to tell me about it?" I asked. 

"Not at all," she admitted.

"Well, don't hesitate to be honest," I teased.

"You'd rather I lie?"

"Kind of."

We walked for a few more blocks and then Tucker sighed.

"My mom named me after her mother," she announced.

"What?"

"People always want to know why I'm a girl named Tucker," she said. "My mom gave me her mother's maiden name as a first name, and my other grandmother's maiden name as my middle name."

"What's your middle name?" I asked.

"It's George. I'm not just a girl named Tucker. I'm a girl named Tucker George."

"You're kidding."

"Yes."

I stopped walking again, confused. "I don't get it."

"You wanted me to lie to you," she reminded me.

She released my hand and kept walking. 

"Hey! That was all a lie?" I called.

"Most of it." She kept moving.

I stared after her for several blank moments before realizing how far away she was getting.  I jogged to catch up to her, and she turned to me with a self-satisfied smile.

"You're a terrible person," I told her. "What's the real reason you're named Tucker?"

For a minute, she didn't answer.  We were almost at the bus loop.  I could see the lit bus shelters from where we were.

"My dad was drunk when I was born," Tucker said softly. "He'd been out with his buddies when my mom went into labour, and when he finally came to the hospital, he really, honestly believed I was a boy, and he chose the name Tucker. My mom always told me it was fate…that I needed a strong name for the life I was going to lead."

Her face was so sad and so serious that I didn't know how to respond.  She looked up at me earnestly, and I felt a need to protect her.

"Tell me another lie," I suggested gently, and her face flooded with grateful relief.

"Okay. Joey, I had an absolutely terrible time tonight, and I never want to see you again."

I grinned. “Likewise.”

We rode the bus back to the stop near her dorm in companionable silence, not speaking again until we paused outside the main doors of her building.  She smiled at me with just a hint of awkwardness underneath.

"Thanks again for your help," she said.

"Anytime." 

"Careful what you promise," she teased.

"Did you make enough money to help you with what you need to do?"  

She laughed ruefully. "I'm not even close to what I need."

I frowned. "How much do you still need? I can always wait tables again tomorrow."

I felt bad as soon as the words were out of my mouth.  I knew exactly how much money she needed, and when she needed it by.

Sooner or later, you'll have to tell her.

"I need a total of thirty-five thousand dollars," she admitted.

"And how much do you have?"

"Between the tickets, the auction, and the raffle, I raised close to ten percent tonight," she told me. "And some before. Plus, I've got a few grand from my inheritance, and the money I've been raising through Greenleaf Gardening."

"How much is that?"

"I've got a grand total of eleven thousand dollars, give or take," she said.

"You're not even half way?"

"I'll do it," she told me.

"I'll help you."

"I'm not taking your money!"

I laughed at the offended look on her face. 

"I'm not going to give it to you. My parents are the ones with the cash, not me." A bit of a lie, but I knew something about pride, and I didn't want to step all over Tucker's. "But I'll help you raise every cent."

For a second, I thought she was going to cry, but then she just kissed my cheek and ran up the stairs.

At the door, Tucker paused. "Are you just going to stand there, staring?"

I hesitated, guilt and hope fighting a battle in my heart. "I don't know. Are you in inviting me in?"

She nodded once, and held the door open.