Deeper We Fall (11 page)

He put is bag down and went for his computer without another word. I let the music play, figuring if he had a problem with it, he could say so. I had headphones. He hadn’t said anything about my music yet, except for asking about the record player.

“What the hell is this?”

“Leonard Cohen.”

“Never heard of him,” he said, giving me a look like I’d said Adolf Hitler.

I didn’t have much hope for the future of the human race if people didn’t know who Leonard Cohen was.

“What happened to your hand?”

“Nothing,” I said.

Before I could ask if he wanted me to put on my headphones, he stuffed some earbuds in his ears and turned up something that sounded like crushing trash cans from where I was sitting.

I tuned him out and focused back on Leonard.

He left a few minutes later with barely a good-bye. My phone buzzed with a message from Miss Carole.

How are you doing?

Fine. Surviving
.

She messaged me back right away.
Have you talked to her?

Sort of. She yelled at me
.

I could almost hear her laugh, even though she wasn’t here.

Oh, Alex. Maybe actions would speak louder than words. You should do something for her.

Like what?
Showing her my busted-up hand didn’t seem like quite the gesture Miss Carole was thinking.

You’re a smart boy. You’ll figure it out. Talk soon?

Definitely.

The record ended, and I got up to flip it over.

I glanced around the room, looking for an idea. My eyes settled on the top of the microwave, on my tin of tea. She’d been trying to get it the other day when I’d bumped into her accidentally on purpose.

I had an idea. I just needed a coffee cup, a packet of tea and a black marker.

It was probably fucking stupid, but seriously, did it matter? Did anything matter when you came down to it?

Lottie

I didn’t encounter Zan or Zack Parker for the rest of the day. By the afternoon, I was beat and my head was full of homework. I also needed to find a job, and bug Will to find a job so Mom would get off our backs about supporting ourselves.

My head was pounding by the time I made it back to my room and saw another note from Katie.

Out with Zack. Be back later
. Someone had drawn a crude penis next to it. Three guess who.

She was going out again? Didn’t she have class? Whatever. She could do what she wanted. I wasn’t her mother.

I had a quiet dinner with the boys and then settled in for some reading. I was nearly done with
Mockingbird
, but I needed something lighter. I scanned my shelves, grinning fondly at the titles.

I needed some cute romance to lose myself in. I was just about to settle in with a cute book with lots of kissing when I got up to pee. I opened the door and there was someone standing in my doorway holding a coffee cup and wearing a shocked face.

Zan Parker. Again.

“Do you have a stalking problem? Seriously, you didn’t get enough of me this morning? My brother and Simon have offered to beat the shit out of you for me, but I’m kind of considering doing it myself. If you don’t move within five seconds, I’m gonna go ahead and take care of that. Got it?” It didn’t matter that he was over a foot taller than I was. I had rage on my side. Hell hath no fury and all that.

He listened to my tongue-lashing in silence. His lips didn’t move, but I swore he was smiling.

“One,” I said, starting my countdown. “Two.”

When I got to four, he handed me the coffee cup and walked away.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I yelled out behind him. A girl who was going to the bathroom turned and gave me a nasty look.

“I wasn’t talking to you, sorry,” I called. She looked at me like I was crazy and went into the bathroom.

He stood with his back to me ten feet down the hall. I noticed that there was a bunch of white tape on his left hand, as if he’d hurt it.

“What do you want from me? Haven’t you taken enough already?” He turned around slowly, and his face fractured for a second. I was so used to him being so expressionless, it startled me.

“I can’t take anything you don’t give me. Stop giving me power over your life,” he said before turning and walking toward the stairs before I could say anything else.

I stared after him, absolutely perplexed. What was it with this guy? The girl I yelled at came out of the bathroom and scurried back to her room, as if she was worried I was going to run and attack her. Great, now I was going to be the Crazy Girl Who Lived Down the Hall.

The coffee cup was just a paper one, from the cafeteria. There was writing in a tight messy script winding around it. A packet of green tea was tucked inside.

‘
You were born with wings.

You are not meant for crawling, so don't.

You have wings.

Learn to use them and fly.’

You’re not the only one with regrets.

-Zan

The first part was clearly a quote, but not one I recognized. The second part made me want to chase him down and smash the cup in his face. What did he regret? Did he regret breaking Lexie? I hadn’t seen any evidence of it. Never an apology, never a tear of remorse. Nothing. Just a blank face. Except for his eyes. Those told their own story, but it wasn’t in a language that I knew how to read.

What he could do was leave me the fuck alone. Disappear from my life so I didn’t have to see his face and be reminded. Every. Single. Day.

I turned the cup in my hands, reading the quote again. Too bad he hadn’t let me get to five. I was debating on shoving my thumb in his eye, which would require me to jump, or just going for something even more sensitive. After making sure he was gone, I went to the bathroom. I tossed the cup in the trash, but put the tea in my pocket.

Chapter Eleven

Zan

I felt like a fucking moron when she opened the door. I’d be trying to be really quiet when I saw the light on in her room and heard someone moving around. My plan had been to leave the cup and head for the stairs, but it seemed someone else had another plan.

Her face melted into the pain and rage I’d seen that morning. Once again, words failed me. Hers didn’t.

When she talked about beating the shit out me, I had to fight a smile. I had no doubt she could bring me to my knees. She could do that with her blue eyes alone.

I caught myself staring at her eyes, and I had to snap myself out of it. She’d started counting, and I figured I should probably go while the getting was good, so I handed her the cup and walked away.

She called after me, and I finally found my voice and said the first thing that came to my mind.

You’re not the only one with regrets
.

My hand was fast becoming a regret. At least the swelling had stopped, and the pain had gone from sharp to a dull ache, but my knuckles were painted purple and blue.

Miss Carole had left me a message while I was up with Charlotte. Worried about me, no doubt. I called her back to ease her mind.

“Hey, Alex. I just got home so I wanted to check on you. Did you make it through the rest of the day?”

“I fucked up my hand punching a sign.”

She sighed. “And what did that sign ever do to you?”

“Nothing. I just had a moment of weakness.”

“Alex, I’ve told you to find an outlet. What about your camera?”

“I haven’t unpacked it yet. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one with the messed-up hand.”

“No, that would be me,” I said, flexing my hand and wincing.

“Oh, Alex, you’re between a rock and a hard place. Have you thought about the truth?”

“I can’t.”

It was a battle we’d waged over and over, and I’d given her my answer already.

“Then you’re going to have to figure something out. Love has a way of working itself out, if it’s meant to be.
Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it
.” There she went again, another Rumi quote. I wasn’t going to tell her, once again, that I didn’t love Charlotte.

“You probably don’t want to take the advice of an old lady.” I chuckled, because she was only forty-five. “I met my husband when I was fourteen. Everyone told us we were kids and I was crazy for saying I was going to marry him someday. But then I did, and they all had to eat their words. I know you, Alex. You’ve been head over heels for this girl since the day I met you, even though you wouldn’t admit it. Feelings like that don’t come and go. Make her come to you. Girls love a mysterious guy, and you’ve got that going for you. Take a step back and see if she follows.”

“She’s not following me anywhere, unless it’s to kill me.”

“You always underestimate your charm, Alex.”

“Charm can’t overcome pure hatred.”

“You’d be surprised. Have you ever thought that she might have feelings for you, and she’s fighting them because she thinks it’s the right thing to do?” I sputtered for a moment.

“No.” That had never occurred to me.

“Oh, Alex. What a self-deprecating boy you are. Give her a chance. I have a feeling she’ll come around. But that is just my two cents. Remember; Elizabeth fell for Mr. Darcy, Beauty fell for the Beast and Scarlet fell for Rhett. Girls love a mysterious boy with a dark past. Trust me.”

Lottie

Katie didn’t come home that night either, and I barely saw her at all the next week. She was always with Zack. Thankfully, most of the time they went to his place so I didn’t have to see him.

I didn’t see much of Zan, either. The next bio class he sat even further away, and never looked at me. I’d stopped myself from Googling the poem at least twenty times. I’d pulled the cup from the trash and stashed it in the back of my drawer so no one would know about it. I hadn’t even told Will about the encounter. Something told me he wouldn’t like it, and would probably use it as an excuse to beat Zan up. Not that he needed much of an excuse.

“I think he’s avoiding you,” Will said. “He must have finally decided that you’re batshit and he should stay away.”

“Haha.”

I got a piece of good news on Wednesday day when I got a phone call asking if I could come in for an interview at the fabric store on Friday afternoon. When I’d applied, I hadn’t thought I had a chance of even getting an interview, but I’d put all my sewing experience down and hoped for the best. Sewing was one of my stress relievers, and I’d thrown an epic hissy fit when I realized I couldn’t bring my machine with me to the dorm because it wouldn’t fit anywhere. I guessed I’d be doing a lot of hand-sewing which was fine, because I was working on an epic Elizabeth Bennett costume for Halloween.

I texted Will, asking for the truck and he reluctantly agreed. I didn’t know what his problem was with me borrowing it. It was a piece of shit anyway. It wasn’t like one more ding was going to ruin the paint job.

My stomach was jumpy as I parked Will’s truck at the store. It was pretty quiet for a Friday afternoon.

I walked in and was met with walls of fabric. When I was little, my Nana used to take me with her when she went to fabric stores. I’d want to touch every single bolt, and wouldn’t leave until I had.

I went right up to the cutting table, trying to make myself look confident and probably failing.

There was a girl leaning against the counter, tapping her scissors and waiting. She sure didn’t look like she belonged here. Between her citrus orange hair, to her torn skirt over leggings, to her combat boots, she looked like she would have been more comfortable in a store that sold ‘alternative’ clothing.

Of course, she was the only person who wasn’t busy.

“Um, hi. My name is Charlotte, I’m supposed to be having an interview?” My voice made it sound like a question.

“Yeah, sure.” She looked up and I saw that she had violet contacts in. They were both eerie and pretty at the same time. “I’m Trish,” she said, pointing to her nametag.

“My name’s Charlotte, but I go by Lottie.”

“Cool. Let me take you back to see the Queen of the Shears.” She motioned for me to follow her.

“What?”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t make you jaded before you’ve started. That’s just our nickname for Claud. She acts like she’s running a kingdom and we’re all freaking Cinderella.” She pushed through a swinging door marked Employees Only, and took me back to an office that was much nicer than I would have thought.

“Got another one for you,” Trish said, after she knocked on the door.

“Send her in,” was the reply.

“Good luck,” Trish said before clomping back out to the main store.

“Hi, Charlotte, come on in.” She was just how I’d pictured. Hair that looked like she’d just come from the salon, perfect acrylic nails and a set of glasses on a chain. Wow, did I call that, or what?

“Thank you so much for calling me.”

“Well, we’ve had a lot of applicants, but you’re one of the youngest.” Wait, was that good?

Don’t open your mouth and ramble. Don’t open your mouth and ramble
.

“I’ve always loved to sew.”
Wow, brilliant. You might as well have rambled
.

“Why don’t we start with what you think you could bring to our team here?”

Don’t open your mouth and ramble. Don’t open your mouth and ramble
…

***

“How did it go?” Will asked when I dropped his keys back off to him. I’d had to reassure him more than once nothing had happened to his truck and I definitely wasn’t going to mention the asshole who cut me off and almost made his truck into a crushed tin can, with me inside it.

“Well, I didn’t mention my drug dependency and I lied about my previous pole dancing experience. Hope they bought my act,” I said, showing him my crossed fingers.

“Uh huh,” he said as I dropped the keys into his palm. “I’m assuming you didn’t mention your diarrhea of the mouth disease?”