Falling by Design (23 page)

It takes less than thirty seconds to type out and send a text message. I know because Dakota and Chance had a race a few days ago to see who can do it the fastest. It literally takes two point nine seconds to take the phone out of your pocket, type 'I'm okay. Talk to you later." And push send. Needless to say, Dakota won that particular race since her phone is usually attached to her hand. However, it's not making me feel any better.

"Don't assume the worst, Brooklynn. You don't know what's going on at home. Maybe he dropped his phone in the toilet again and it's absolutely unusable. Or Noah, in his dreamy rage, chucked it across the room shattering it into a million pieces. Or—"

"I'm going to stop you right there." I raise my hands in surrender. "Thank you. But truth be told, he doesn't own me anything. It's not like I expect him to check in with me or anything. We're not together together."

"Oh please honey, in your mind you so are. Don't worry, I'm sure he's at home right now, thinking about—" We halt as Tamela's high pitched whine interrupts whatever Dakota is about to say. I cringe at the sound, trying not to let it bother me. She’s such a piece of work. Sometimes, I really wish we would still be friends, just so I wouldn’t have to deal with her constant need to put me down.

Now, her voice turns up just a notch as she continues telling a story we walked up on.

"I had to go over to the house to see about our Winter Formal attire. His dumb brother is still all sick and stuff." She's standing by the entrance to her class with two of her minions. I grab Dakota before we're seen and duck back around the corner. My friend gives me a puzzling look, but doesn't question my actions.

"Yuck. I don't understand why he is the one who has to stay with him. But anyway, I'm just soo excited. Grayson and I are going to look smoo-kin' hot at the formal."

My heart stops beating, the words penetrating to every part of my being. I’m seeing red. I’m having trouble breathing. Vaguely, I feel Dakota's hand on my arm, tugging me away but I stand frozen.

"I thought he was going with that Brooklynn chick?" one of the minions asks, as if she doesn’t even know who I am, shattering whatever attempt Dakota may have had in getting me out of there.

"Oh plee-ase! He's just using her for some college prep project or something. He wouldn't actually go out with her. Seriously, she's so yuck. I can't believe he has to deal with her on a daily basis as it is."

I can't breathe.

I can’t breathe.

I can’t breathe.

"Anyway, before I left he was all nice and cozy, even un-showered, he's so freaking gorgeous. And then he juu-st went up and kissed me. Such a good kisser and suu-ch a sweetie. I can't wait for the formal. It's going to be tots awee-some!" Their voices fade away as they make their way into the classroom, but I can't move.

Grayson and Tamela.

Grayson and Tamela.

Grayson and Tamela.

It’s the only thought running through my mind as Dakota pulls me away from the classroom. I don't know where we're going, only that my feet are moving. The next thing I know, we're at the nurse’s station, Dakota speaking to the nurse on duty. I watch as though I'm separated from my body as she explains something to the staff, before taking her place next to me and pulling out her phone.

Then Chance is there, kneeling in front of me, his face a mask of concern and for a brief second I wonder if something horrible happened. Then I realize I'm the cause for their concern and I finally take a deep breath.

Then, the world goes dark.

❧ ❧ ❧

I can't believe I fainted.

It's been two days since Chance and Dakota drove me home after my little passing out spell. And I've been ignoring them ever since. Mom realized something was going on so she let me stay home for a few days, since Dad is at one of his conferences, which made ignoring them a little easier. Saturday morning I'm sitting on my bed, contemplating whether or not I feel like going to work when Chance burst in. I jump a few feet in the air, my hand flying to my heart.

"Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" I exclaim as Chance collapses on the bed beside me. I twist around to watch him as he sighs, staring at the ceiling. "You okay over there?"

"I'm just trying on this whole drama queen air you got going on. I want to see if it works." I roll my eyes, before pushing him off the bed and he smacks the floor, laughing.

"You're a jerk."

"And you need to get out of this room," he announces, popping back up. Shuffling on his knees, he comes to sit in front of me, placing his head in my lap like a puppy. "Are you okay?"

I ruffle his hair a bit, giving him a small smile and a nod. Wrapping my hand in his much stronger one, he tugs me down to the floor beside him, making himself comfortable against my bed.

"Are you really okay?"

"Maybe."

"Brooklynn."

"What? I'm embarrassed okay? I can't believe I reacted like that and I can't believe I let myself like a guy who I knew, I knew, was complete trouble!" The words rush out of me in one breath and I bury my face in my hands. I haven't cried or anything, but it's like I've been in this constant state of shock. Chance pulls me into his arms, running his hand up and down my back in a soothing motion.

"Have you talked to him?"

"No." He's called and left me messages but I've been ignoring him as well.

"He's back to school." I sit up at that.

"Did you talk to him?"

"No."

"Chance, I don't want you to shun him. It's not his fault I had feelings for him he didn't reciprocate. I can fault him for going out with Tamela though, but that's a different story."

"This is where you're wrong, Brooklynn. I'm not talking to him because I know for a fact how he felt about you and what he did was wrong. I'm not talking to him until you do." I squeeze him around the middle, before sitting back up. I'm truly blessed with amazing friends and their support, but right now, I really don’t want them to be putting into words all the things I’m thinking. It’s much easier to be irrational when you’re avoiding rationality.

"That's nice to say, Chance, but let's be real here. I haven't exactly been upfront about my feelings for him. He's not going to stick around forever if I keep pushing him away. Guys in my life tend to disappoint.Well, except you. You stick around and you're my one exception to the rule and don't ever change." He nods at my stern voice, as I get off the floor. I start looking through my closet, trying to figure out what I'm wearing to work today since I just decided I’m officially going.

"Hey Brooklynn, you know you're pretty amazing right?" Chance is trying to make me feel better, but all I can think of is the fact that Grayson doesn't think so. "Maybe you should talk to him," he says as if reading my mind, before settling back on my bed and turning the TV on. I leave the room to get dressed, my thoughts on the fact that I will have to talk to Grayson eventually.

I study myself in the mirror, trying to see what others see when they look at me. I'm not picture perfect, my face is a little round, my lips are a little small. I know I will never win any beauty contests, but I'm thankful for the way God made me. I've always been, until Grayson came along and I started to compare myself to the likes of Tamela.

Out of all the people at that school, it had to be her. But I guess, why not her, right? She’s beautiful and shiny and definitely the most confident person I’ve ever met. She wanted Grayson and she went and got him. Making me pass out because I’m so upset is just an added bonus. But I allowed that. I was the one who got so strung up that I couldn’t breathe properly. This is precisely the kind of behavior that won’t get me far in life. 

Shaking my head, I turn away and pull on my shirt and jeans. I have to stop this. No guy is worth this feeling of self-depravation. I get enough of that from my parents, I don't need to add more stress of being perfect when it comes to a guy. I have to be the strong one, the one who can stand for what she believes in, despite what goes on around her. Just the fact that I have friends like Chance solidify the fact that I'm not all bad. I will have to talk to Grayson, but right here and right now I decide that he will not break me. We will finish this fashion show, put together our portfolios and I will close the chapter of Grayson forever.

With renewed certainty, I leave the room.

THIRTY - FIVE

Some cause happiness wherever they go; others whenever they go. - Oscar Wilde

I'm pretty sure Aunt Evie told me she's running an errand just so she could escape my foul mood.

I've been at work for four hours now, like a woman on a mission. I've reorganized more displays than I normally would in a week. It's been a bit slow, so I even managed to set up some outfits in the back for the stupid fashion show. Okay, so the show is not stupid, but Grayson is and since it was his idea it gets labeled by default.

I'm ripping boxes open when the devil himself walks in.

"Brooklynn," he walks toward me, smiling warmly. "I stopped by your house, but your mom said you were all better and back to work. How are you feeling?"

"Fine and dandy." I reply, turning my back to him. Just looking at him hurts, the betrayal of Tamela fueling the anger within me. It's not like I'm naive enough to think that I can rival her in looks or popularity. Well, maybe I was. After all, he did ask me out right? Yet, at the same time I told myself not to care, but here I am, caring a whole lot.

"Good. I tried calling a few times. Now that my phone is back to operational."

"How's Noah?" I ask, sticking to the safe topics as I make my way over to the table on the other side of the room. Grayson follows, though all the while I’m hoping he gets the hint and leaves.

"He's almost back to a hundred percent. He's been asking about you. Wondering when you'll come visit again."

"It's been a bit busy around here. Maybe when it calms down." Or maybe never. I don't know if I can make myself step inside that house knowing what I know now. I shift around Grayson, heading for the other side of the room, when he stops me with a hand on my arm. I still my body against the small contact.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" I haven't looked at him since he walked in, but I can hear the concern in his voice. I shut my eyes for a brief second, fighting to calm my racing heart, before I finally look at him.

"I'm fine," I reply, retracting my arm and my body to the other side of the room. Aunt Evie told me I could lock up early today, so I head for the front door as the clock strikes five. I open it, the universal gesture for get out of my store, but Grayson just leans against the counter, arms crossed in front of him. With a small sigh, I shut and lock the door, before grabbing a box and heading to the back.

"You're not fine, Brooklynn. Tell me what's going on."

"I don't want to talk about it. But since you're here, let's go over the final prep and then we'll be set to go." The show is in two and half weeks, right after the Winter Formal. I'm trying not to think of that wretched dance, but as soon as the name flies through my mind I'm all kinds of mad all over again.

"I set up some mannequins with the winter collection over there. I have to finish the dress and the accessories and we'll be good to go. I also took some pictures in case you wanted those and was going to do more today." I pick up the discarded camera, bringing it in front of me. Grayson is behind me in a flash. He reaches around me, his hand swallowing my own as I hold the camera steady.

"Look, I know how to click the stupid button!" He's getting on my nerves. He steps back, the bewilderment plain on his face, but I'm done playing these games with him. I'm just plain done.

"Grayson, I think everything is where it needs to be for the show so we don't have to meet again for two weeks."

"Brooklynn, what's going on?" He's past confused now and getting to the angry. Well, good. At least I get one real emotion out of him.

"Nothing is going on. We're done here. You can go." I turn away, placing the camera back on the table because there is no way I'm taking any pictures with him present. I listen for his footsteps, but he doesn't leave. I move to walk around the table, ignoring the boy behind me, when suddenly he's in front of me, stopping my progress. He traps my body between the table and his solid chest.

"Something is going on. You need to talk to me."

"I don't need to do anything."

"What has gotten into you? I thought we were, I don't know, I—"

"It's fine, Grayson. You don't have to let me down easy. I know all about it."

"About what?" he exclaims throwing up his arms. I've never seen him this agitated before, the look in his eyes making him seem strong and powerful. But he's not the only strong one around here, life taught me well and I'm finally listening to the lessons. I push away from him, needing the distance more than I'm willing to admit.

"We're done Grayson okay? We'll do the fashion show, you get your portfolio and you will never have to see me again. So just drop the act. It's not like you care." It's hard to get the words out, the tears that I dried only this morning threatening to come again.

"Not care? I do care—"

"Oh please! I know all about Tamela and her little visit. I know why you've been so nice to me, using me as a tool to get what you want. Well, congratulations Grayson. You've succeeded. You got your stupid portfolio and another point in the constant game of making Brooklynn's life miserable. Give a man a medal!"