How I Fall (9 page)

“No.” Laura gasps. “Really?”

Ellen nods. “Our town paper is so stretched for news it reports on stuff like ladybug counts and daffodil season. Our high school shenanigans always make front page. My mom’s going to love this story even if it does go town-viral.”

I shake my head. “You’re lucky. My parents would have zero sense of humor about it. They don’t want any marks on my transcript that aren’t perfect gold stars. Naked in the front office would get me grounded for life.”

Laura puffs out enough air to make her curly bangs fly straight up and a whole new hidden nest of micro-glitter rains down and settles like it belongs there among her freckles. “Well my mom’s not going to understand, considering it’s my first day here. She will find a way to add this to my poor-life-choices list. Hopefully my Auntie Judith will understand, but I’d feel terrible if I messed up all the strings she had to pull to get me in this school as a late starter. That principal was so stressed he even gave Ellen a free tiger beanie right along with me! I’m bound to be in trouble. Cam, do you think you could help me go back and do a proper apology just in case?”

All I want to do is to run from this odd creature, but the admiring smile Ellen’s giving me forces me to say, “Sure. Yes. Of course.”

“Here.” Ellen tosses me the black and yellow striped cap as though she’d been dying to get it out of her hands. “You can wear this for brownie points.”

I catch it, but then I have to stand back as Laura starts twirling around in front of us while staring down at her outfit—reminding me of a dog trying to catch its own tail. “Don’t I just look like I fell out of a Glee pep rally, though? Lord but this outfit’s so cute!” Her eyes get even rounder as she stops and blinks at us, waiting for our answer.

I only nod, and Ellen does the same. We share a sideways glance and I’m pretty sure we’re both deciding to lie to the girl should she press the point. Thankfully, Laura’s already Ping-Ponged on to her next topic.

“Speaking of local papers!” Laura’s skipped back, peeling open the school paper and points to my photo on the front page. “Did you know that you might be famous, Mr. Cam Campbell of the all-star Provincial Quarterbacks? The principal even told me you just might make it to the USA for something called the NFL just like your also very famous David Beckham-like daddy.” She nods. “I know all about it, and him, and your amazing potential, thanks to the principal filling me in about your whole life story after I told him you and I were already best and fated friends!”

I cringe a little because she’s so bizarre with the fate thing, and of course I hate being lumped into anything that involves me and my dad having a connection to each other. As for the part about Laura and me ever actually being any sort of real friends, I don’t want to hurt her feelings but I’m still pretty sure that’s not going to stick. I just don’t have room in my life for extra crazy people right now, so I only answer with a vague, “Oh. Yeah. Well…Mhmm.”

Laura, unaware of our future friendship being on the rocks, is still staring down at the paper and blabbing away. “I’ve no clue about what being un-sackable means; but where I’m from this whole article reads like you’re sort of super-powered.” She chews on the edge of one of her curls. “Or…wait! Does this un-sackable word mean you’ve never shagged anyone in your life?” She wrinkles her brow then glances back up at me as though she makes perfect sense. “Which one is it, then Cam?”

“Which…what?”

“Are you a super-jock or a virgin or both?”

I don’t answer because…I have no words. Yes, because Laura’s insane; but mostly because Ellen has finally laughed out loud! Her soft breathless peals wrap around my heart and stir some buried memory from my past that’s so strong I am instantly slammed with an unexpected, desperate craving to hear more.

“Don’t be ashamed, Cam. Whatever your answer it’s a right proper trust-bubble we’re all in right now. Like a confessional. There will be no judging going on. Right, Ellen?”

“Um…” Ellen shifts her feet like she’s hoping to make her own escape, but then her face transforms as more laughter erupts. Her smile widens—she’s crossed her arms over her chest even tighter because she is full-on belly laughing now! As she glances up through those long lashes of hers, I think I’m going to die. It’s my new life mission to try to make Ellen laugh again. Now. Tomorrow. And tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that. I shake my head with regret over the days I can never recover because I’d lost my nerve around her—reminding me to keep on going—to somehow make this, whatever it is, stick. I replace my fears of her rejection with determination to at least try for—for something.

“Christ, Ireland!” I say, forcing my own laughter back so I can talk. “Sacking is a football term.”

“Is the ball made of some type of fabric, then? Like burlap sacking?”

I shake my head. “Who let you cross the border at the airport? Can I make a request for deportation?”

“If it’s possible. I’d appreciate help with that as well. As much as I like you two, I didn’t ask to come here and a fast ticket home would be just what I’m hoping for,” Laura says.

Ellen gasps and locks her arm back into Laura’s. “No. Never. This school has suddenly become so much more interesting in just a few short hours! We can’t let you go back so soon. Can we?”

I grin at both of them. “It’s so true—we must keep her!”

“Our new pet tiger!” Ellen laughs again, firing out a wink in my direction that makes my heart flip up to the top of my brain.

So. Darn. Cute.

Laura puts her hands on the spot where her tiger-striped leggings meet her tucked in, tiger-striped T-shirt. “Now who’s treating who like a pet!”

I realize I owe the crazy Irish girl for any and all of my success right now. Maybe I judged our friendship possibilities too harshly. Maybe a new crazy person is just what I need. Besides, without her help as my comic relief, I’ll end up choking and dying in front of Ellen all over again. So, crazy or not, I need her.

I blurt out, “Laura, say you’re in digi-photo class with us? And if you’re not, you’ve got five minutes to transfer! Say yes, or I’ll escort you back to Principal Wilson’s office to beg for the switch right now.”

“No need, laddie. I’m already signed on. Ellen suggested it back when we were scaring the principal half to death.”

“I did.” Ellen nods.

The warning bell that calls everyone in from outside and out of the cafeteria sounds out loud and long, startling the three of us to silence.

cam

As though Laura has no idea that bells mean you should head to your locker and then go to class, she wanders off to stand under the minuscule plastic bell box that’s hung on the ceiling of the hallway and points up, shouting, “What a noise that wee little cube can make!” Already a few kids have stopped to observe her in the insane combination of spirit-wear. A few are also pointing at Ellen decked out in the infamous rainbow skirt, too.

I’d noticed that Ellen’s smile was wiped away by the bell, but now she looks positively panicked. She suddenly turns toward the wall of lockers, her face going completely pale as even more people trickle into the hallway from the direction of the lunch room. I see her eyeing the distance to the classroom down the hall and I sense she would like to somehow be way over there instead of over here. I frown, annoyed with myself that I didn’t think to predict this for her. I bet the hallway of zigzagging people with swinging bags and elbows all over the place must feel like a war zone to her.

Should I try to walk with her…make myself some sort of human shield…offer her my arm? Will she deck me if I even try?

“Campbell. Campbell!” Tanner Gold’s shouting from far down the hall. “Dude. Hold up. Where were you during lunch?”

I look up and nod, but don’t answer.

“Oh, no,” Ellen practically melts into the lockers, her expression in full panic now as her gaze goes frantically over to Laura. Suddenly, she uncrosses her arms and pushes me in Laura’s direction. “Do something. She’s a sitting duck in that outfit. Go. Save at least one of us.” Her voice is so cryptic and defeated I do a double take on her outfit. That’s when I read the two words she’d been carefully hiding under her crossed arms that are positioned vertically on Ellen’s borrowed shirt: FAE MUCH?

Fae much? What  does that mean?

I read the words again and again. Of course, just like Laura, the T-shirt is over the top and makes no sense at all. I take in the fact that it’s sparkling with actual painted-on glitter, and then I realize the phrase is written vertically in the center of giant sparkle butterfly wings.

“I don’t get it. Is this some sort of Irish thing?”

When Ellen turns to show me the back, I see about twenty freakish little flying, doll-faced fairy creatures crisscrossing the front of the shirt, each holding a letter that makes up the floating line: I HEART FAERIES! She quickly shoves the back of the shirt against the locker and looks up at me with a little shrug. I’d been staring at Ellen’s beautiful face so much, I’d totally missed this thing.

“Fae means...mythical, winged creatures.”

“And you’re worried Laura London’s the sitting duck? Holy crap! That shirt—that skirt—why—”

Ellen plucks at the shirt front, wrinkles her nose and folds the wings back into hiding under her arms. “It’s kind of cute…like Laura. And…it’s obvious what the girl likes.” She shrugs helplessly.

“What the PLEASE-NO! She’s a fairy fangirl? Is that what the glitter make-up is all about, too?”

“It’s pixie dust. She told me it’s
meant
to fall off as she walks so we can all have a ‘bit-o-the-magic’.” Ellen glances worriedly at Laura again. “So…yeah. Before she talks to anyone and commits social suicide, would you
go
? Get Laura out of the line of fire. I can handle any stares this outfit might bring. I’m used to it.”

I’m suddenly angry because I can’t think of a way I can protect her and Laura at the same time.

“I can’t leave you here, wearing a fairy shirt and rainbow skirt. Not while everyone is talking about how you fell down at the bus stop. What made you think wearing any of this was a good idea for the rest of the day?”

Ellen flips the length of her braid to the side as her eyes spit fire at me. “As if I had any other choice. That Irish girl dragged me to the bathroom and stole my wet outfit when she ran out to ‘help me more’. And in case you didn’t catch on, that girl does not understand the word
no
.” She frowns back at Laura and deepens her glare. “And I did not fall this morning, okay? I was knocked over. Huge difference. To me, anyhow.” Her mask slips a little and her voice wavers as she eyes the increasing crowd. “Are they all really talking about me? About what happened?”

My heart clenches and I try to make what I’ve just said sound better. “I’m only assuming because what happened was pretty…epic. And people talk, but I’m sure it’s not that much.”

So much for making it sound better. Crap…even I can hear the lies in my voice.

“I don’t care.” She sighs and squares her shoulders but doesn’t meet my gaze like before. “I just don’t want anyone to hurt Laura’s feelings. She’s really far from home. Please. Try to reel her in. Laura doesn’t know what it’s like here. Maybe she doesn’t have to know if we explain things and she tries again tomorrow.”

My heart thumps against my chest with unasked questions.
What is it like for you in our town? Who’s hurt your feelings? How can I make it better for you?

I shake my head, trying to clear it, then shake it again, trying to distract myself from the weighted pain of worry that’s settled deep inside my chest. It takes only seconds to assess that Tanner’s about to ramp in and start taunting Laura London along with his crew. He’s only holding quiet because he’s not sure where to direct his attention. Does he approach me, standing with the newly re-dressed rainbow Ellen so he can crack jokes here first, or should he go for the easier, more obvious target of new-girl, Laura London, jumping up and down in a tiger suit in the middle of the hall?

Worse, the football team groupies, anyone who’s got a class near this spot, plus a few teachers have just crowded in and are also tracking both situations. I pull in a breath, and switch to speaking without moving my lips, “I know what to do. I’m an expert at tense situations and damage control.”

She looks up. “You are?”

“Yes. A Campbell family survival skill. I’m trained by the best. You first. Can you find a way to balance yourself so we can hide your shirt with my jacket?” 

She nods and grabs onto a locker while I move to block the glitter shirt from view, keeping one eye on anyone approaching Laura. I’ve stripped off my team track jacket and, for the second time, today I’ve shoved my clothing onto Ellen Foster’s slight frame.

She’s not angry or annoyed like she should be, because I’ve knocked her around a bit just like I did back on the bus. But this girl is lighter than a bird and that’s hard to get used to. She leans one shoulder on the closed lockers and quickly adds her other arm into the jacket. Her cheeks fire really red when she whispers, “I…I can’t close the zipper because my one of my hands doesn’t—”

“Of course.” I step forward and handle it in record time.

My jacket’s so long on her that it goes almost to her knees, covering almost all of the horrible outfit. “Thanks.” She looks up at me like I’ve just pulled a miracle.

“Head to class. I won’t let anyone mess with our wee-little Laura. It’s a promise.” I shove on the extra black and gold striped tiger beanie like I’m suiting up for war. It’s a move that at least serves to wipe the dark and desperate look off her face and makes her almost smile again. “We’ll have to keep the little nut under observation until we can talk some sense into her. If there’s a way to swap seats in digi-photo, make sure she’s stuck between us,” I say with more confidence than I feel. I shake my head to make the google-eyes on the hat wiggle a bunch, hoping she’s going to keep that little smile on her face until I see her again.

“I’ll try.” She pales a bit as we both see a small crowd forming tighter around Laura. “Just, go. Hurry.”

As Ellen turns to make her way carefully across the hallway, I get over to Laura as fast as possible and scoot up next to her. Before anyone knows what’s happening, I make a show of placing my hands on each side of Laura’s shoulders, pausing to smile and stare up at the school bell as though she and I are in on some sort of private joke. I whisper in her ear, “It’s the latest in Canadian bell-ringing technology. I can see why you’re in love with it.”