How We Fall (20 page)

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How we Fall

I’d done several of them, but I wasn’t going to tell him.

“Okay—truth or dare,” Kyle said.

Chris moaned. “That’s so middle school.”

“No, I love that game,” Will said, looking at me. “Let’s play it.”I groaned and leaned back against the couch. Candace’s infamous dare had started things between me and Marcus, and I was not kissing anyone this time, dare or no dare.

“Okay, Mara, you’re up,” Kyle said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she said.

“I dare you to chug the rest of that beer.”

“Ugh. Lame.” She squinted through the amber glass to check how much was left, then tipped the bottle up and chugged the last half. “Also nasty. Chris, your turn.”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to . . . give me the rest of your beer since I had to chug mine.”

Chris sighed and handed it over. “Will. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.” He rested his arm on the couch behind me. I swirled the ice in my glass and pretended I hadn’t noticed.

“Why are you flirting with Jackie? It’s weird.”

For the second time that afternoon, heat rushed to my face.

Chris had never been one to hold back. Will was being pretty obvious, but still.

“Flirting is one of life’s finer pleasures, and I strongly recommend you do more of it,” Will said. “Now Jackie, truth or dare?”

Of course he’d pick me. No way was I doing a dare. “Truth.”

“Hmm.” He watched my face, his blue eyes studying me.

I met his eyes because if I didn’t, I’d turn even redder. He grinned. “Yes or no—do you think I’m hot?”

My eyes widened. The raging confidence of this guy. That cocky grin qualified, but he didn’t need help with his ego.

“You’re okay.”

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His grin widened. “I knew it. She thinks I’m hot, guys. Outrageously hot.”

“This is so dumb,” Kyle complained. He turned on the TV

and flipped channels. Chris and Mara moved onto the couch so they could see, repositioning themselves much closer to each other than they were on the floor.

Kyle stopped flipping when he came across
The Fast and the
Furious.
“Here we go. This is how Will got his speeding tickets.”

“It’s true. Just like that,” Will said. “But those rides don’t hold a candle to mine.”

“Really,” I said. “The Neon?”

“Hey, don’t say it like that. I’m telling you, that lady will do zero to sixty in under five minutes.”

I almost choked on my drink. “Sounds like a winner.”

“She is. Not for sale.” He pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit a cigarette.

This guy could hardly be more different from Marcus. I turned back to the TV, but glanced back and caught him staring at me. Smoke swirled toward the ceiling.

We didn’t say anything for a moment. He blew smoke at the ceiling again.

“So.” He nudged my arm. “Can I get your number?”

His grin was the same self-assured one I’d been seeing all afternoon, but his eyes weren’t quite so confident. I hesitated, and his grin fell just a bit. For that reason alone, I caved. “If you put out your cigarette, I’ll even let you text me.”

He ground it out in the ashtray on the end table. “Deal.”

Maybe I had a distraction now, too.

147

The weekend came and went without Marcus doing more than passing through the house. Everywhere I went, he’d already been there and gone. His keys on the counter, or his folded stack of laundry the missing one in the row on the living room couch, already taken up to his room, or his homework spread out in the computer area upstairs, but him not there. I couldn’t seem to find a room with him in it.

The few times I saw him, his glance burned into me for the briefest second on his way out the door or up to his room. I’d texted him on Saturday, but no matter how long I stared at the bubble that held my words, no reply ever popped up.

When I’d backed off, I’d at least told him I needed some space. I hadn’t given him the cold shoulder. I hadn’t ignored his texts. This wasn’t him treating me like Claire, this was him pretending I didn’t exist.

I let the dog into my room Monday, a rare privilege for her.

She leapt up onto the foot of the bed and beat her tail against the blanket before letting out a deep sigh. Researching college film programs would keep me busy for the afternoon, and Heidi would be good company.

Spreading out index cards and my top-bound college-ruled notebook on the bed made me feel better. Legs crossed, I opened my laptop and clicked my bookmarks. Each program I was considering had an index card—pros on one side, cons on another. General questions and new universities to check out I scribbled onto the notebook, organized into sections by state.

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A big stack of the index cards had a note printed neatly on the “cons” side from the beginning of summer-
no degrees Marcus would want.
Mostly film or arts-only schools. I’d requested information on all the programs except the ones in that stack.

I huffed and Heidi pricked her ears. I scratched her head and opened a new tab on my browser. A new message from Travis in my inbox. Emailing with a college guy was kind of fun, and talking about films with someone who really got it made me feel like I wasn’t completely on my own with this.

Jackie,

I keep seeing coverage of that story about Ellie Wallace. Is that
your area of Missouri at all? Such a sad story.

Hope your life is calming down some. Sometimes getting out of
the house can help; can you go out with friends or something?

~Travis

Ellie kept cropping up everywhere I went. Somewhere in the woods trees had hidden her body, and every time I saw a stand of pines and oaks, I wondered what they were hiding, if a girl’s life had ended there with no one to see or hear. The empty-window eyes of her old house watched me on the way past to the pool. Even Sylvia reminded me of Ellie, because somehow they’d been friends.

I hadn’t kept up our friendship, but at least I hadn’t lied about knowing her.

I replied to Travis’s email right then so I wouldn’t forget.

No, life isn’t really calming down much, but whatever. Yeah,
Ellie was a friend of mine. I’m still in shock, I think. It’s true what
they say about not realizing what you had until you lose it. Hope
classes are going well.

~Jackie

I searched the university websites for information about their film programs until that evening, which did not keep me from thinking about Marcus.

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How we Fall

His footsteps would beat down the stairs, and I’d look up from my computer, expecting him to come to my door. His voice would answer someone in the living room, a low, even sound I’d conditioned myself to listen for, but no part of it would be for me.

It was only because I knew him so well, it wasn’t true, but a small part of me felt like it had been a part of him for so long that it just hadn’t come back to me yet, and that was why I could tell where he was, know where he’d been.

I left the stack of cards for universities Marcus wouldn’t go to on my dresser in a neat white stack.

I could watch
Psycho
now. Marcus had never liked it, but I knew how Marion Crane felt, having to meet Sam in secret.

I wasn’t planning on staying in any cheap motels, though, so hopefully I’d avoid being stabbed to death in a shower. Plus, my secret relationship was over.

As the discordant orchestra played in the credits, my phone buzzed with a text. An unknown number.

Will. I smiled, then frowned and re-read the text.

Marion and Sam argued on screen.

Dude, you should have seen this girl I met. Total babe. Can’t
stop thinking about her.

For half a second, I thought he’d accidentally texted me something meant for someone else. I rolled my eyes and texted back.

Yeah, I’ve seen her. She’s okay.

My phone buzzed immediately.

Oh no- this is Jackie, isn’t it? I thought this was Eric!

What a giant dork.

Right. Sure you did. Flattery will get you nowhere, BTW.

Will probably did this to every girl he met. If he wasn’t serious, he couldn’t expect me to be.

It usually works for me. Watch this.

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Kate Brauning

After a minute, a second text popped up.

Hey there, gorgeous. Go out to dinner with me tomorrow?

I blinked. I hadn’t thought he’d follow through.

Hmm. Nope, doesn’t work. Try asking Eric.

A minute lapsed before another text arrived.

What would work?

I was lightyears away from being ready to focus on someone else, especially someone who flirted so much winning a medal in the sport must be his life’s ambition. But if Marcus was hanging out with Sylvia, maybe hanging out with Will would help.

Try not flirting at all.

My phone buzzed almost immediately.

That might be hard. I’ll try, though, just for you.

I’d texted my way through the stabbing scene, which I’d never been able to watch without looking away. When I leaned back to watch Norman cleaning up the mess, something occurred to me.

Flirting with Will was something I could tell Claire about.

And Kelsey and Hannah. They’d laugh and demand details, and I’d say, “I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything,” but then tell them everything. It would be very normal.

• • •

The tires, his dad’s truck, and now this.

The parents and Marcus sat in a ring around the table.

Shadows lined his eyes and he was leaning forward, his elbows on the table.

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How we Fall

“What happened?” I asked. Dread curdled in my stomach.

His truck. Maybe all this was because of us, maybe someone knew about Marcus and me.

Marcus leaned back in the chair and his eyes met mine for a second. He looked away. “Someone keyed my truck last night.

I was at Sylvia’s, and when I came out . . . it was like that.” He lined up the salt and pepper shakers.

Wait. If it happened last night, and he was telling the parents just now, he must have been out until late. Very late.

“The good news is we think we know what’s going on,”

Mom said.

I glanced out the big kitchen windows. Between being run off the road and having the tires cut, and now this, I suddenly felt exposed. Like I shouldn’t be standing in the middle of a room with one wall almost completely glass.

“Sheriff Whitley says there’s been vandalism over in Harris, too. Someone had their gas siphoned, someone else had prank gifts on their doorstep—disgusting ones, I might add. It’s just school rivalry stuff again, he thinks.”

Our basketball team had a long-standing rivalry with Harris, and it had gotten aggressive before, but keying a truck was extreme. And school rivalry didn’t explain an adult wrecking Uncle Ward’s truck, unless he was some student’s irate parent.

“That’s dumb. I mean, I’m glad it’s not a crazy stalker, but still.”

Mom frowned. “It’s an expensive prank.”

“It’s not a prank,” Dad said. “It’s a crime, and kids should know the difference.”

“Well, now, I remember us doing some pretty risky stuff in college,” Uncle Ward said with a grin. “Illegal, even.”

Mom’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t need to imply things, Ward. Everyone knows we smoked marijuana. But pot doesn’t cost some young man who never hurt me several hundred dol-lars.”

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Dad put his arm on the back of Mom’s chair and massaged her shoulder. “That’s debatable, and you never know the ripple effects.” Mom gave him a sideways glance. He cleared his throat. “Not the time for that, probably. It’s just good to know it’s a school thing. But be smart and don’t provoke anyone, Marcus. Lock your doors, keep your phone with you, and when you go see friends, maybe stay in instead of going out.”

“Yeah.” He stood up and walked out of the kitchen, right past me. He didn’t so much as glance my direction.

My eyes suddenly burned. I crossed the living room, fully intending on slamming my bedroom door, but I stopped in the hall and stared at the stair-step arrangement of baby photos.

Mine hung right beside Marcus’s in matching frames. Mom held me, Dad standing by the bed, in one frame. The other showed Aunt Shelly and Uncle Ward in a similar position, Marcus only three weeks younger than me.

Our new rules said no seeing each other when other people weren’t around, but screw that. Marcus was worried more than he would say about the tires and the damage to his truck. He had to be. Our parents hadn’t been in the truck when we were run off the road. It wasn’t some random, unexplainable road rage.

I turned around and marched up the stairs. He was halfway to his room. “Hey.”

He glanced back. “I’m fine.”

Right. “The parents weren’t there when that guy ran us off the road. I don’t think this is school rivalry.”

He stood with his body turned away from me, still pointedly intending on going to his room. “It could be.”

“But you don’t think so.”

“The sheriff is handling it. I can only do so many things at once.”

This new edge to his voice cut me. “Marcus. Come on.” I 153

How we Fall

took a step toward him. “This is hard on me, too. I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay. Giving each other space doesn’t mean we can’t talk anymore.”

He ran both hands through his hair, making it stand on end.

“Yes, it does, damn it.” He walked toward me, his attention finally on me, and his voice dropped lower. “Eventually, maybe we can be friends, but not now. I can’t handle it. Hang out with Kelsey. You’ve been doing that more. Maybe finding friends other than me would help. I can’t be your friend right now, or this is never going to work. I can’t—when you—”