Continuum (14 page)

I'm so absorbed in my swinging and crossword solving that a quiet cough startles me.  I drop my pen as I look up and meet Ethan’s cool blue gaze.  I drag my sneaker on the ground to stop the swing, accidentally kicking over my cup of tea.  The mug clamors down the steps, cracking into pieces on each step before shattering on the driveway, the tea spilling out lazily. 
Real smooth, Fallon.

Ethan and I rush forward at the same moment, crouching down to collect pieces of broken mug.  He is instantly apologetic, “I am so sorry.  I didn't mean to scare you.”  

We both reach for the last piece of ceramic but when our fingers touch, I automatically yank back my hand.  Ethan pretends not to notice as he awkwardly hands me the pieces of mug in his hand.  Not knowing what else to do with them, I gently set them down on the bottom step.  I wrap my arms around my chest, keeping my eyes fixed on the tea oozing into the cracks of the driveway, “It’s okay, I wasn’t expecting to see you today.  You weren’t in European History.”

“I overslept this morning.  When I got to school, you weren’t there,” he pauses and looks up at me waiting for me to respond.  I shrug and he continues,  “So, I thought I would bring you my Psych notes.”  He hands me a sheet of paper, the questionnaire from today's DVD.  His excuse is paper thin considering we haven't had a real teacher the entire school year and there wasn’t possibly anything I missed.

“Oh.  Thanks.  You didn't have to that.”  

He shuffles from foot to foot, “It’s no problem.  Are you okay?”

“Yeah, uhm, just a bit under the weather.  I wasn't feeling well this morning so I went home after first period.”  I peek up at him from under my lashes.  He’s staring out onto the street, his expression a million miles away and filled with longing.  He looks just so devastatingly beautiful, it breaks my heart.  I really, really wish I wasn’t wearing my flannel penguin pajamas.  I feel self conscious standing in my driveway but I'm not sure whether I should invite him in.  My voice is soft, “What are you doing here, Ethan?”

Ethan lets out a quiet cough, once again shuffling his feet and fidgeting with the zipper of his leather jacket.  Was this awkward for him too?  “I’m sorry for just showing up.  I guess I should've called first.  Well, I was going to call but then I realized I didn't have your number.  I was on my way to the store to grab some... things for my mom.”

He is a terrible liar.  I rip off a corner from the newspaper and scribble down my cell number and hand it to him, “There’s my cell.  You can call or text me if you need... European History notes or something.”  We stand in silence, looking at each other waiting for the other to speak.  A gust of wind blows my hair across my face, sending a chill through my body.

Ethan sticks the crumpled piece of newspaper into the pocket of his jeans and starts playing with the strap of his book bag.  “Yeah, great, thanks.”  He surprises me by taking step forward so our chests are almost touching.  Reaching over, Ethan tucks my errant hair behind my ear, his fingertips lingering on my jaw.  My heart is racing and my breathing is shallow and much too loud.  His closeness is overwhelming.  I am suddenly bone tired.  If I just leaned forward, I could rest my head against his chest.

His hands move down to my shoulders as his sharp blue eyes examine my face, “You look tired.  You should go back inside and get some rest.  It’s starting to get cold out.”

I nod my head in agreement, “Yeah, I should go to bed early tonight.”

“Feel better.”  The longing in his expression returns and I know he wants to kiss me.  All he would have to do is lean down a few inches and our lips would touch.  I tear my gaze away before my eyes give him permission.  My heart can’t bear for him to kiss me. 

“I'll see you in class tomorrow,” I say, wanting to know he will be there tomorrow.

“See you tomorrow.  Goodnight, Fallon.”  Ethan releases me, turning on his heel and then disappearing down the block into the darkness.

“Goodnight, Ethan.”  The wind carries away my whispered goodnight.  I sit back down on the porch swing for a few more minutes letting the wind whip my hair around.  Finally I get up and toss the shards of broken mug into the dumpster sitting at the end of the driveway.  I gather my crossword puzzle and pick up the crumpled Psychology assignment.  

It looks like he folded and unfolded the paper, contemplating whether he should come over or not.  I was looking too much into things.  Ethan and I were friends.  Nothing more.  I am normally resolute with my decisions, but the creases in the page send a wave of uncertainty through me.

When I come into the cafeteria the next morning, Mackenzie is completely wrapped around Ethan.  He looks slightly annoyed but I know how persistent she could be.  After our awkward exchange last night, I can’t meet his eye as I walk past him to European History.  

If possible, today goes by slower than yesterday.  When the bell rings signally the end of sixth period, I am outside before the rest of the class has even finished gatherings their things.  I don’t really know what to say to Ethan and don’t want to risk running into him.  I slip out of the building through a side door.

The sky is still thick with clouds and a gentle mist is falling but I don't really notice or care.  Today definitely feels more miserable or maybe it was a projection of my sour mood.  A sharp gust of wind cuts right through me and I pull my jacket tighter as I angle toward the woods.  

There is a thick layer of leaves on the ground, slick with rain.  My sneakers with their rubber soles are not ideal for navigating this kind of terrain and I slip and slide more than I walk.  Eventually, I find myself in my usual spot.  The clearing surrounded by trees, their branches intertwined to form a canopy overhead.  The quiet buzz of the forest replaces the buzzing in my head, I close my eyes and allow myself to relax a notch.

“Fallon?”

Startled by the sound of my name being called, I whip around.  Taking a step back, my shoes slide and when I try to find my balance, I trip over a stray branch.  Landing hard on my backside, my hands automatically fly out to stop my fall.  I am sitting on the debris covered ground, fuming and embarrassed.  Ethan is standing over me in an instant, his worried face inches from mine.

His eyes are full of concern, “Are you okay?”  He offers me his hand.

I can't hide the irritation in my eyes as they meet his.  Am I irritated at him or at myself?  Reluctantly, I take his hand and he pulls me back onto my feet.  My face feels hot and I know I must be a sight to behold, red in the face and covered in mud.  “You really shouldn't sneak up on people like that!”

Ethan shrugs and gives me an apologetic smile and his voice is soft, “Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.  I was just surprised to see you out here.  It's raining.”  His smile fades and his expression is bereft.  What is he doing out here?

I make frantic swipes at the back of my jeans which are covered with mud and wet leaves.  “Yeah, I noticed.  I don’t mind the rain.”  

“It’s very cleansing.”  He pauses, tilting his head to the side and eyeing me curiously, “Why aren’t you in class?”

“I wasn’t in the mood for higher learning,” I mumble, digging the toe of my shoe into the soft, wet ground.

“Yeah, me neither.  It’s nice out here.”

“I like to take walks through here.  The forest is a good place to think, it’s very peaceful out here.”  

“It’s very different from the places I’ve lived before.  I wasn't expecting to see you out here.”  

Neither was I.  “It’s quiet here.  Sometimes, I just need to get away.”  More like I was hoping to avoid you and was running away from the image of you and Mackenzie curled around each other.  I look away, hoping Ethan doesn't see the guilt in my expression.

“Yeah.  I was feeling a bit... overwhelmed,” he voice trailing off and his lips curling into a smile.  He had used the same expression the first time we met outside at the picnic tables.  

“I know the feeling,” I feel my lips begin to mirror his and I quickly bite my bottom lip to suppress my smile.  That truth is Ethan does make me feel overwhelmed.  My usual clear logical reasoning is overridden and I am reactionary, dissolving into a state of out-of-character irrational behavior.  I feel like a mess--well I am a mess, covered in mud and leaves.

“I never would have guessed.  You’re always so... collected.”  Most people would use the world stand-offish, cold, or something more colorful to describe me.  Ethan looks up at the tree line for a moment before his gaze falls back on me.  “Oh my God, your hand is bleeding.”

I look down at my hands which are covered with mud and bits of leaves from my jeans.  Mixed in with the mud, is blood flowing from a gash on my palm.  I am surprised at the amount of blood dripping between the fingers on my right hand.  For a moment, the world goes out of focus and I feel myself waver on my feet.  Swallowing hard, I drag my eyes from my bleeding hand and meet Ethan's concerned eyes.  “I must have cut myself when I fell,” I say lamely.

In an instant, he is standing next to me and shrugging off his leather jacket.  He whips off his black t-shirt and before I can object, he pulls my hand into his.  Gently, he wipes off the grime from my hand.  He is so fixated on cleaning my bleeding hand, I can freely stare at his handsome face.  His face is scrunched up in concentration and I want to reach out and run my uninjured hand through his chestnut hair which is slightly overgrown and hangs in his eyes.

I watch as he carefully wraps my hand up in his t-shirt.  His usually clear blue eyes are clouded with worry, “We should get you back to school.  Have the nurse clean it out.  I don't think it'll need stitches but we don’t want it to get infected.”

My brain seems to have switched off and all I can do is nod in agreement.  I force myself to focus on the tree behind Ethan so I don't stare at his carved torso.  His nearness and his state of undress make me feel incredibly shy.  The burning in my face tells me I must be a brilliant shade of red.  He pulls his jacket back on, zipping it up over his exposed skin.  He grabs his bag and picks up my bag which I had dropped when I tripped.  We walk wordlessly back to the school.  Every few yards, Ethan turns around to make sure I am still behind him.  Every time he stops, I bump up into him and the contact sends tingles through my body that make me forget about the pain in my hand.

We finally reach the school and Ethan holds the door open for me as we enter the main building.  Walking down the empty hallway, there is a foot of space between us.  When we reach the nurse's office, the bell rings.  In the span of five seconds, the hallway is packed with people and we are pushed closer together as people swarm around us.  He hesitates, looking down at me with uncertainty now that we are in a crowded hallway.

Awkwardly, I hold up my wrapped up right hand which is throbbing now.  “Thanks for the patch job.  I’m sorry I ruined your shirt.”

“Don't worry about it.  I have a million black t-shirts.”  He hands me my bag and I take it in my uninjured hand.  He looks like he is wants to say something but he stops himself.  

I set my bag on the floor next to the door.  I don’t want him to leave but I don’t know what to stay to have him stay.  “I--I’m... Thanks again.”

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair.  “Yeah.”  Unexpectedly, he folds me against his chest but he releases me as soon as my body stiffens.  Hurt flashes briefly across his face before he quickly slips on a blasé expression.  His goodbye is barely a whisper, “Take care of yourself, Fallon.”  

Ethan turns and makes his way down the hallway, carving a path as people part to allow him to pass.  Unmoving from the spot he left me, people knock into me with their elbows and book bags, shooting me annoyed glances but I don’t care.  The bell rings again and Ethan glances back from the other end of the hallway.  His eyes lock on mine and even from this distance, I see the betrayal in them.  It takes all my strength to look away and step into the nurse's office. 

“Goodness, your hand is filthy,” Nurse Sylvan comments as cleans my hand.  “Well, dear, it doesn't look like you'll need stitches.”  Satisfied with the cleanliness of my hand, she starts dabbing alcohol on the cuts.

I nod absently at her assessment, concentrating on the burn of the alcohol.  Pain has never really bothered me.  Pain sharpens my awareness.  It reminds me that I am a part of this world not apart from it.  I think of Ethan embracing me in the hallway.  How he continued to reach out to me even though I pushed back at every turn.  I had hurt him just now.  I was always hurting people.  A sharp gasp escapes my clenched teeth-- not from the alcohol burning inside my cut.

Nurse Sylvan pauses, “I'm sorry, did that hurt?”  I shake my head and she continues, securing a large piece of gauze on my palm with some tape.  “Alright, dear, you're all set to go.  Stop by Principal Mullen's office on your way to class.  He has to notify your parents.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise, “Over a scrape?”

She shrugs, “School policy.  Now go on, you've already missed half the period.”

Principal Mullens and I have a history.  He knows about my past indiscretions which makes me distrust him.  Throughout high school, I did everything in my power to skate just under his radar.  I enter the administrator's office through a door connected to the nurse's station.  Mrs. Powell, the school secretary, buzzes Principal Mullens announcing my arrival.

A moment later, the door to his office pops open and Principal Mullens appears with a stoic expression on his face.  “Come in, Miss Pierce.  I've been expecting you.”

I had spent a lot of time in this office Freshman year.  I enter the familiar office and it is vastly unchanged from the last time I was in here.  Principal Mullens was a former Geography teacher.  The wood paneled walls are covered with his collection of framed vintage maps. Sitting on his desk next to the computer and an ancient looking globe is a picture of his wife and kids, the only thing that gets regularly updated.  The door clicks shut behind me.  He clears his throat and pulls out the stiff wooden chair across from his desk.  “Please have a seat.”