She just doesn’t get it. Anya Forger found herself in the midst of a classic sleepover scenario at Becky Blackbell’s house, surrounded by the sugary allure of hot cocoa and the dramatic tension of Becky’s current favorite romance series, “Berlint In Love.” Becky, draped in a purple nightgown, was utterly engrossed in the on-screen melodrama, while Anya, reluctantly clad in a frilly nightgown of Becky’s choosing, struggled to grasp the nuances of televised love. Love, as far as Anya understood, was a grown-up concept, a bewildering maze of emotions that seemed far removed from her current reality, which mostly revolved around peanuts and spy missions. Why Becky was so invested in these complicated adult feelings remained a mystery to Anya.
“Becky, can’t we watch Spy Wars instead…?” Anya pleaded, hoping to steer the evening towards more familiar and explosive territory. “Anya can’t follow this mushy stuff…”
Becky waved a dismissive hand, her eyes still glued to the screen. “Oh, Anya, you’re just so…childish.” She paused, a knowing smirk spreading across her face. “Can’t even understand her own crush on a certain ‘Sy-on boy’~”
“You bet, Anya wants to crush,” Anya affirmed, misunderstanding Becky’s romantic undertones and demonstrating with an enthusiastic punch to her own palm. “But, that will get her in trouble.” Crushing for Anya was less about burgeoning romance and more about the literal act of squashing something – perhaps homework, or maybe even Damian Desmond’s arrogant demeanor.
Becky, oblivious to Anya’s physical interpretation of “crushing,” giggled at the supposed romantic confession. “Oh! I personally think it’s stupid for us to be in trouble for being in love. I mean? Why would parents be mad at us for naturally growing feelings for someone? It just doesn’t make any sense! You can’t control when love blossoms!” Becky’s dramatic pronouncements echoed the grand declarations she was witnessing on screen, painting a picture of love as an unstoppable, force of nature.
Anya, however, remained utterly perplexed. “Huh?” Love blossoming? Feelings growing? It all sounded like more complicated adult stuff that she hadn’t quite unlocked yet. What did “crushing,” in Becky’s love-struck context, even have to do with this confusing emotion?
She brushed aside the confusing notion. “But anyway, why is Becky so interested in this show…? The ‘couple’ fights, and then they’re suddenly happy again. But then, they fight again. And then they make up again….” Anya’s summary of “Berlint In Love” was brutally accurate, highlighting the cyclical drama that Becky seemed to find so captivating. To Anya, it seemed exhausting and illogical, much like her interactions with a certain second son.
Becky, in her infinite romantic wisdom, patted Anya’s head condescendingly. “Oh, Anya. That’s just how couples are. You’ll understand when you get yourself a boyfriend.” The idea of a “boyfriend” felt as foreign to Anya as understanding advanced telepathy.
Just then, Martha, Becky’s ever-present and pragmatic maid, entered the room carrying a tray laden with refreshments. Clearing her throat with gentle amusement, Martha interjected, “My dear lady, you are not exactly in a relationship yourself yet.”
‘Ack!’ A mental squeak echoed in Becky’s mind, a sound only Anya, with her unique abilities, could detect. Becky flushed crimson, momentarily pulled from her romantic reverie.
The brunette spun around, a defensive edge creeping into her voice. “But, I know how love works! Enough to understand how couples function!” Becky’s insistence, while enthusiastic, lacked the grounding of actual experience, a fact that Martha’s subtle jab had keenly underscored.
Martha chuckled softly as she approached, placing the tray on the miniature table before the girls. “If you insist, Miss Becky. Here’s your tea. And hot cocoa for Miss Anya.” The gentle offering of warm drinks diffused the slight tension, leaving Anya to ponder the bewildering world of crushes, romance, and whatever a “Sy-on boy” had to do with any of it. Perhaps, she mused, Spy Wars was indeed a much simpler, and less confusing, form of entertainment.
