How I Fall (22 page)

I try to keep the conversation going so I add, “I brought your track jacket back. But…”

“What?” He bites his bottom lip. “You ate all the candy?”

“Not all but…they’re addicting, aren’t they?” I flush.

“Yep.” He laughs and reaches into his pocket and produces a new pile of foil wrapped treasures for me to see. “I’ve got thousands of them. Mom ships them to her stores. I steal them out of a box she keeps in her office. She’s addicted, too.”

We’ve rounded the corner. I look past Patrick and Laura, who’ve turned to face us and freeze in my tracks without thinking, which sets me off balance. Before I can try to react or try to find Patrick’s shoulder to grab, Cam’s got his arm around me and he’s pulled me close. I close my eyes, wondering what the kids at the bus are thinking.

Wondering what Cam’s thinking. Well…whatever. At least I’m not flat on my face, so it has to be better thoughts than yesterday?

“Ellen?” Cam asks. “Ellen? Are you going to smile or what?”

Laura’s next. “Come on, Ellen. Stop fooling around. I want some good shots before we join the crowd.”

I open my eyes to see that Laura’s pulled out her odd, Euro smart-phone/tablet hybrid-camera thing. She’s standing there, facing us, and tapping her foot as though she’s being extremely patient.

“You can close your eyes and joke around on the next ones.” She snaps a bunch of shots of me, Cam and Patrick. “My mom wants to see who I’m hanging around with and I can’t have you looking all crazy.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry,” I say, forcing my smile to be as natural as possible.

Laura finishes a few shots and darts in between me and Cam and hands the phone to Patrick. “Take like ten selfies with that long arm of yours, please? Can you fit us all in?”

“No problem.” Patrick obliges and holds out his arm, snapping away.

I realize none of our bus-stop audience caught that I was about to fall. Then I also wonder if Cam knew I was going down, or if he’d simply stopped to pull me in and smile at Laura’s camera at just the right time.

Laura’s checking the shots and her smile is getting wider by the second. She shouts out, “We’re flipping
brilliant
! A-double-dorable. Really.
Perfect.
The wee-beanies photograph so well. My mates back home were worried about me, so I’ll be using these to make sure my boyfriend, Casper, and all my friends can see that I’m not just sitting at home and crying.” She sighs, continuing on, “Even though every second I haven’t been with you, I
have
been sitting at home and crying.”

“Well…that’s about to stop.” Patrick frowns. “Who names their kid Casper?”

“I adore his name. He’s from Leeds! A Brit. His accent’s simply purrrrfect and gorgeous. Just like he is. You’d like him.”

“I like how you say the word perfect.” Patrick evades, mimicking her accent but shooting me a desolate ‘shoot-me-Ellen-I’m-so-depressed’ look.

I’ve been tracking Bella-Jane, Tanner, Paige and Jennie’s expressions this whole time. They’re frowning so darkly at the four of us approaching, it’s like they’ve got their own storm cloud brewing. Bella-Jane is literally shooting lightning bolts of sheer scorn. So much so, I feel slightly ill. But then I catch that they’re
all
wearing the same beanies we’ve got on! More surprising? I think Cam knew they would be dressed like this because he’s nodding at them all approvingly and says, “Would you look at all this tiger awesomeness going on!”

To confirm my suspicions, Laura’s grinning at Cam like they had some sort of secret plan to get the whole school to wear these beanies. “Well, Mr. Campbell. You said we’d be trendsetters and you were right!”

Cam laughs and I feel his eyes traveling over me as he tightens his arm around my shoulders. “None of us can get out of this now.”

Laura laughs and my chest starts pounding. Instead of removing his arm from my shoulders, Cam brings me slowly closer to him like he thinks I’m going to try to run. Because I would. If I could. Oh…I would.

I decide this has to be some twisted prank. Like the beginnings of one of those high school horror films. I saw the movie,
Carrie
. Heck I saw both versions of that movie.

I’ve also seen
Mean Girls
and
Cruel Intentions
more than once so I know how this whole story ends. The dorky, outsider girl gets destroyed inside and out.

Worse, I’ve got no supernatural powers that would—at the very least—allow me some sort of twisted, fire-filled vengeance moment at the end.

*Closes eyes. Screams to wake up. Screams for help. None of this can possibly be happening right now.*

I do what I can, and slow my gait, pulling away from Cam with my attempt at a fast, yet slow-motion-I-don’t-want-to-fall version of my 180-twisty-turn. Then I pair it with my attempt to gracefully drop low and squirm out from under his arm by pretending I want to look behind me. But before I make a clean break, Laura calls attention to the group of evil-staring devils by shouting out, “
Oi. Oi!
Hullo there, guys!” And then, I think she says something close to, “Would you look at all the adorable wee-Canadian tigers! Roarrr!”

She tears away from us and runs straight into the danger zone!

“
Oi!
Bella-Jane. Paige. Jennie!
Hold yourselves still for a photo, would you?” She’s pulling out her phone camera again. “And Tanner. Tanner with the last name that’s straight out of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Tanner The Gold! Golden Ticket! Have I got your name right?”

He nods, taking his signals from Cam’s approving smile.

“Scoot-in next to the three beauties, young laddie. There. You’re all so
brilliant.
”

Tanner blinks like he’s been drugged and does exactly what Laura tells him to do.

Paige, Bella-Jane and Jennie step aside to let him in between them.

“Purrfect.” She snaps more photos and skips over to show them the results before looking up to boss us around. “Let’s go, then. Ellen and Cam. Patrick, too. I’m needing some photos of them cheeky faces in here along with the rest of us. Like I said, I’m on a mission here.”

And just like one of my imagined mind movies, the crowd parts and we walk over and get into her photo. Only this is not one of my imaginary moments. This is completely real and happening! More amazingly, instead of murdering Laura, or outwardly scorning the activity and the fact that I’m part of that activity, they all smile and move to be in front of Laura’s camera like they can’t get enough! As the bus pulls into sight, I find myself gathered into more happy group shots, and double and triple selfies being taken off other people’s phones than I’ve ever been in my life!

Normally, I’d be pulling away from the crowd, mostly because I’d be falling all over the place every time someone put a shoulder up next to mine, or bumped my bad leg. But here in Laura London land, I’m fine! Because Cam’s not changed his grip on me once. He’s been making sure I’m okay and that I don’t even wobble and he’s done it in a way where no one seems to notice that he’s doing it. He’s also smiling and acting like I’ve always belonged here next to him in this huge crowd.

Just like this. Just like yesterday. For better or for worse.

I’m not sure which—but I think worse, because I just agreed to three shots of me as one side of a Bella-Jane and Cam sandwich.

I realize I’m trusting Cam like I probably shouldn’t trust him because at any second he could simply ruin me and all of this wonderful balance he’s giving me and let me flop. His grin says everything is okay for now. And…it feels nice to not have to be afraid or to work so hard for once that I just go with it.

More photos from Laura’s phone mean even closer crowding in. And still somehow he keeps me balanced and leaning on him as though I’m—as though all of this—is fun and normal. He pulls me closer and closer, and I simply…
let
him where normally I’d push away. Heck, I even snuggle deeper under his arm, mostly so I can hide my red face while I try to calm how I’m breathing in and out really fast. His hoodie feels really soft—too soft—and I’m quickly losing my original idea that I should eventually say or do something to make this all stop.

Besides…when, exactly, would I do that?

When I stop liking this so much? When he somehow hurts me? When he makes fun of me? But his arm is laid so gently around me I know, I just know deep down that he would never do that.

My head floods with confusion, those crazy butterflies return and thoughts that won’t solidify swirl all around in an endless haze.

I pull in another deep and steadying breath then hold it, hoping for some sort of rational thought to return. It doesn’t work because the crowd has pushed me into him so close that I’ve got no other choice but to trust him right now. Also, holding my breath like this has made it clear to me that Cam’s heart is beating as hard and as fast as mine is!

*Wonders: Is it? Is that really his heart…or is it mine?*

The bus roars up, and my thoughts tangle even more when I realize Cam and I are standing right in front of the bus door.

As in. We are first in line.

The crowd quiets down and I hear a flurry of whispers and low grumbles start behind us. My heart drops because, even though most of the kids are wearing tiger beanies that match mine, those whispers have to be about me.

I know—and they know—I do not belong here. Not in this boy’s arms and not first in the bus line. Ever. Stiffening my spine, I almost choke on my shame. I’m never
ever
first, and now everyone’s going to be watching me, laughing at my awkward moves up the steps. If my bad side will even cooperate now that I’ve made myself all nervous, that is.

Hating that I can’t bolt now without causing a scene or tripping all over the curb side and the kids behind me to get to the back of the line, I hold my ground and slowly flex my left leg. Of course I start praying and visualizing that it’s going to do what I want it to do this time. But, already because I’ve hit a panic state, my thigh muscle won’t respond and my hip flexor is refusing to let me raise the bad leg more than two inches off the ground.

“Um…” I start. The bus door swings open and I’m staring at that first step and it feels like I’m looking at Mount Everest.

“Will you let me help you up?” He’s whispered it so softly next to my ear, I wonder if I’m hallucinating.

I nod only slightly, just in case. I can’t peel my eyes off the tops of my navy blue Vans as Cam moves behind me without breaking any of our body contact. He runs his hand down my back and stops at the curve of my waist. This move has given me goose bumps all the way up the back of my neck. He moves a bit farther behind me and places his other hand on my opposite side. Now his palms are flat against the back of my waist like they were yesterday. Even though he’s not touching any skin this time, I actually feel like his hands have caught me on fire. My mind spins away from my embarrassment and pulls my thoughts into places that make my cheeks flame. How could someone so huge be so very gentle? Or is he only gentle with me… With me…

I lean back and hold my breath, praying he can solve this because now, even with all the others staring, there is no way I can move. Not even my good side. I can only concentrate on the soft warm pressure of his hands at the bottom of my rib cage as he begins to lift me. His touch, my leap of reckless trust…has caused my knees to shake in a way I can’t even process.

He takes my weight and moves me effortlessly like I’m some sort of dancer. He gets me up only just high enough to clear the step so it appears that I’ve done the move myself. I snap out of it and place my good hand on the hand rail, gripping it for dear life.

Cam moves in close behind me to climb up next, and I can only hope his wide form is blocking everyone’s view from the fact that he’s shifted me even more and has taken my full weight up into his arms again. I relax some and let my hand slide along the rail and he gets both of us up the steps so smoothly. That’s when I know I’ve become someone else. I’m just a normal girl. One who’s coordinated and graceful and fast.

I’m already sliding into my seat next to the window with my bag snugly on my lap as everyone else crowds up into the aisle. While Cam sits, I field a questioning and wounded glare from Patrick who’s taken the seat across from us to sit with Laura. Since I can’t face Patrick just yet, I stare at the back of the seat in front of me and watch Cam out of the corner of my eye. He arranges his long legs and all of his things next to me in the seat in a way that makes it seem natural that his arm is now around the top of my shoulders like it has somehow always belonged there!

Laura’s saying something goofy and has caused half of the bus to crack up. Even the driver seems to be charmed by her accent and antics. In the midst of the noise and chaos of everyone settling in, I finally sneak a glance to see what Cam’s doing. His face is one inch from mine like he’d been peering down to scan my face the whole time I’ve been spacing out. My eyes go to his lips, then to the crinkles next to his eyes because he’s smiling. I swallow and shake my head so I can clear it. My cheeks flame and I hardly recognize myself reflected in his concerned, slate and navy eyes—because—who is that girl sitting next to Cam Campbell? Is it me?

“Was that…okay? I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I?” He smiles hopefully.

I shake my head and on a half-choking breath I say, “It was great. Perfect, actually. Thanks.” I sigh. “Just thanks.”

“Thanks for what?” he covers, acting like what he did for me was some kind of normal, daily activity. And maybe it will be…now. Thanks to how genuinely nice he seems to be. Thanks to Miss Brown. Thanks to crazy Laura London, tiger beanies and possibly thanks to…
fate
?

I look away, loving the warmth Cam’s arm is bringing to my forever-cold body and take in Laura’s laughing face again. I have to smile a little at the way Patrick keeps forgetting to look pissed off at me because his eyes are so lost on watching Laura’s every move.

I wonder, are we…are we all now friends—just like that—just like this? Is it only a matter of time before someone throws a rude comment from the back of the bus? Or will they? I lean back on the seat, listening to everyone’s chatter with all of my might.

Cam, like he’s kind of frozen and stunned too, is still looking at me, waiting for me to say something more. I can’t find my voice so I shake my head again. As if he knows I can’t possibly answer his question, he quickly turns away to joke across the aisle with Patrick and Laura.

This has me working hard to resist what it is I’m hoping for right now. But as Cam pulls me closer and I listen to Laura’s bubbling giggles, my resolve crumbles.

I let myself hope and wish that these new friendships, and this fun, and this arm appearing around my shoulders all the time, and the part where Cam Campbell seems to be able to read my mind—could somehow actually be for real.