The Girl Who Fell (30 page)

Words strangle my throat. I feel my jaw drop open but I can't make sound. Who is this girl?

A million questions battle in my head but nothing catches. Confusion overwhelms me.

I bend into the stitching ache in my core. Lizzie says something behind me but her words are garbled, remote.

“What are you doing?” My question belongs to someone else. I cannot be here. This cannot be Alec.

Alec reaches for my wrist and holds tight. His grasp is a cold metallic restraint. I wrench my arm free.

“It's not what it looks like.” His words are too simple, too regulated. Rage boils in me and he is so calm.

“It looked pretty clear to me,” Lizzie says.

Pain scorches my middle. “What was it, then?” I find these words somehow.

“Zephyr, I had no idea.” It's the girl now. Tiny, young. An underclassman.

“Do I know you?” I whisper.

“I'm Katie. I tried out for JV field hockey”—she slinks a step away from Alec—“I didn't know he was your boyfriend. Honest.”

These words lash like a taunt:
boyfriend. Your boyfriend.

Then Gregg ushers the girl beyond my sightline.

Next to me, there is the heat of Lizzie's body. “Zephyr, let's go.” Anger spikes the edges of her words.

Alec grabs for me again, but I step away. “Look, it isn't what you think. Zephyr, you of all people should understand things aren't always what they seem.”

Lizzie bristles. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He ignores her, steps toward me. “What you saw. I wanted you to see that.”

Lizzie slaps Alec's face hard enough to hush conversations in the forming crowd. His hand darts to his cheek, meeting the sting. “You”—she thrusts her finger in his face—“Are. A. Piece. Of. Shit. You don't deserve Zephyr.” Each word drops cleanly, sharply. Daggers.

Gregg positions himself between Alec and Lizzie until she backs down. She grabs the sleeve of my coat. “C'mon, Zee, we're leaving.”

Lizzie's hand tugs at my jacket, but I don't move. I'm trapped in this spot, tortured by the reoccurring image of Alec and another girl too close. Had they already kissed by the time I saw them? Done more? And he
wanted
me to see? And what if I hadn't blurted out his name when I did?

“Zee!” Lizzie pleads.

Alec approaches me, wraps his arms around my waist. He twists me quickly, away from my friends. His head fills the sloped cove of my neck the way it has so many times. I smell mint and my body remembers. My knees weaken. But that girl must have smelled it too.

And how many other girls?

My head whirls. My brain stutters. “W-why would you want me to see you with another girl?”

Alec's fingers slip down my sleeve, web their way around my fingers. I feel the squeeze he gives my hand, but it's disconnected somehow, like I'm watching this happen to another girl.

His low words float to my ears. “Zephyr, nothing happened.”

Somehow I manage to speak. “It did. Or it was about to.”

“No. I wanted to prove a point.”

That you have the power to gut me? “B-but you didn't know I'd be here.”

“I knew.”

“Zee,” Lizzie urges from somewhere behind me. “Please don't listen to anything he says.”

“Can we talk about this in private?” Alec asks.

“I've heard enough,” I tell him.

“I did this for you. You'll understand once I can explain.” He drops his voice so that only I can hear. “I love you, Zephyr.”

Love? The word cuts quick, a whip sliced through flesh. How can any of this be love? “What I saw. You and her”—I huff out air, my head spinning—“you
wanted
me to see that?”

“I wanted you to know how it feels.”

“I trusted you.” And then, as pieces fall into place, as my mind and heart sync with the madness of this scene: “I changed my life for you.”

“Don't, Zephyr, please.”

“
Me
don't?” I say, but then I am torn from my spot. Lizzie. Pulling me from behind.

My body breathes without my permission for a swell of minutes.

Clarity builds slowly. Oh god, what have I done?

Only feet from me, Gregg towers over Alec, their faces close. He threatens something I can't hear. Alec throws up his arms.

“We need to get out of here.” Lizzie yanks me hard enough to make me stumble. She bodyguards me through the crowd that splits with curiosity. We walk across the frozen ground. She sets me into the car, closes my door.

Alec had wanted me to see. Wanted me to hear.

He'd planned this.

Specifically to
hurt
me?

When we turn onto the crossroad, Lizzie asks if I'm all right. Her grip moves from the stick shift to my knee. The light, unexpected pressure feels foreign, as if I haven't yet returned to my body. I press my temple to the passenger side window while my brain replays every gruesome second of the past ten minutes of my life. I struggle to keep from puking but can't. I bark at Lizzie to pull over and open my door just in time to spray vomit onto the side of the road.

My phone rings seven times on the way to Lizzie's.

“You should turn it off.” Lizzie's eyes scan me as she drives.

But I don't. I squeeze my phone in my palm, hoping the pinch of skin will wake me from this nightmare.

In Lizzie's room, I collapse onto her mattress, let it absorb my weight. I hear the door latch softly before Lizzie kneels at the side of the bed.

“Can I get you anything?”

My tongue is too thick to answer. My head shakes out a small
no
.

“Zephyr, what was that?” Lizzie's voice fractures as if her words have taken on my pain.

“Do you think he . . . that they . . . you know?”

Lizzie tries to squeeze back a troubled look. “Honestly? It kills me to say this, but I don't know. Maybe. I'm so sorry, Zee.”

My head clutters with Alec and that girl having sex at the construction site. In his bedroom. His car.

“I wish I could make this better for you, Zee.” Lizzie's phone vibrates then and she reads the text, fingers a response. The phone buzzes again and Lizzie turns the screen to me.

Gregg:
Are u with Zeph?

Lizzie:
At my house.

Gregg:
Take care of her Lizzie. I'm here. For anything.

The exchange mines tears from the deepest parts of my heart. Lizzie's protectiveness, Gregg's loyalty, all things I've never had to question. All the things I've taken for granted lately.

I press myself into the minutes of yesterday, how close Alec and I were. He'd promised me a future, given me a glimpse. I'd given him everything in return.

So why would he do this to me? Why did he want me to see him with another girl?

My phone rings: Maroon 5. “Sugar.”
Yes please/Won't you come and put it down on me?

Lizzie grabs it, flicks the screen to answer. “I think I speak for Zephyr when I say you can lose this number.” She disconnects, chucks the phone onto the comforter where it jumps once softly before settling onto its face. It sings again almost immediately.

Lizzie catches my mournful stare. “Oh Zephyr, you cannot seriously want to talk to him.”

“I don't know what I want.” I brush a tear from the corner of my eye, biting back the torrent that's building. “He said he could explain.”

“Explain why he was with another girl? What possible explanation would you accept?”

“I don't know, Lizzie.” Tears lick my words. “I just can't figure out why he'd want me to see them together.”

“It sounds like a bullshit line he thought would save his ass after he got caught.”

His words repeat in my head:
You'll understand once I can explain. I wanted you to know how it feels.
Had he seen me hug Gregg? Or worse, did he hear Gregg whisper about not being over me? I suck in a quick breath.

“What?” Lizzie says.

I stare through the wall, at nothing.

“What is it, Zee?”'

A tear streams down my cheek, chased by another.

“Has he done this before?”

I shake my head. “No.” And then, “Not exactly.”

“Define not exactly.”

My voice breaks as I tell her about that day on his stoop, how he'd made me feel so, so good, but then stopped, telling me he needed to be careful with me. That he was too insecure and I had the power to hurt him. And when I spent time with Gregg at Thanksgiving, how he's shut me out for days.

“Zephyr, that's not normal. It's Manipulation 101. You are such a smart person. How could you not see that?”

“It's not like that, Lizzie.” My words hiccup. “I really love him.”

“That's not love, Zee. Not when someone's forcing you to do it.”

“He never forced me.”

Lizzie's trying hard to control her frustration. “Love is a choice, Zephyr.”

Breath rattles in my chest, struggling to pass in and out. “It's not that simple. There's . . .” But I can't say it. I can only grieve.

Lizzie's eyes beg. “What are you not telling me?
Please
tell me you're not pregnant.”

“No!” I am grateful for that, at least.

“Thank
god
. Then what?”

I ball Lizzie's comforter between my hands and make a fist of fabric. I twist at it as I tell her about yesterday, about my perfect night with Alec, how it ended with my commitment to him over Boston College. I tell her about Alec's jealousy of Gregg and even though I know they are my words, they sound like they come from some other girl.

She looks at me like I am some other girl. “Zephyr, what were you thinking?”

I love him. He loves me. “Everything's different when I'm with him.”

“I don't even understand. When did you become this girl?”

She couldn't understand. This is between me and Alec. He has an explanation for me. “I need to talk to him.”

“What?
Why?
”

Because I'd been wrong about Gregg and I could be wrong now. The note, the word in red—it had all been a misunderstanding. One I couldn't see clearly before talking to Gregg.

And I know Alec wouldn't hurt me. He's the one to make everything better. That's what he does. But Lizzie can't know that. She can't know how being in his arms feels like the sky and ocean melting into one another, endless and lasting. “Because he said he can explain.”

“What do you care what he has to say? This dude freaks about you spending time with your friends. Basically banned you from Slice. Made you give up your dream of Boston College for him—”

“Don't.” I shoot her a look.

She throws up her arms. “Okay, maybe I don't know what I'm talking about. If you feel you need to hear his reasons for being an asshole, you do what you have to do. Just know I'll be here for you, Zee. However this turns out.”

And the familiarity of this promise sends an itch squirreling along my skin. “I can't get the scene out of my head.”

“It's a hard scene to forget.”

“But Alec and that girl? It doesn't make sense. I should hear him explain why he would do that, right?”

“I think only you can answer that.”

“I need to talk to him.” I reach for my phone.

Lizzie grabs my arm. “Are you sure?”

“I-I have to know.”

“But you know, Zephyr. I mean, you saw what I saw.”

My mind strips away the physical pleasure I feel when I'm with Alec and shows me only his need. How he needed me to choose him over my friends, didn't want me around Gregg. But didn't I want that too? Time where it was just the two of us? I did. I do. I want it to be only us. Next year. Now.

“It wasn't what it looked like. It couldn't have been.”

Lizzie turns away as I pull up his number.

Alec answers on the first ring. “Zephyr, I need to see you. I need to explain. If you hate me after hearing what I have to say then I'll go away forever.”

Even after tonight, the thought of losing him rips darkness into my heart.

“Zephyr actually”—his pleading blurs the edges of my thoughts—“we can't do this over the phone. Please.”

And I know then what is right for me.

Lizzie parks in Alec's cul-de-sac. “I'll wait here. I don't want him driving you home.”

I nod, my fingers already gripping the door handle. I hold on to it, wondering if I'll have the strength to step outside, confront Alec.

“I'm here for you, Zee.
Here
here. Whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” These are the words that come out of my mouth, even though the ones asking her to drive me home are the words searing my brain with their chant.

But then Alec's front door flies open and he's running to the car, opening the door for me. He guides me up and into his arms so fluidly I almost forget my confusion. “I'm so glad you're here.”

The cold air morphs into a cloud of sweet mint and I take a step back, push down his arms. “Don't.”

He gestures toward his house, the front door hinged open. “Come in?”

Even though the entrance is only steps away I gather all my strength for the journey. Because I have to know. If we're over. Why he'd hurt me so badly. “Only for a minute.”

“I'll take your minute.” He attempts a small smile and makes me recall a time when I had only ten minutes for him at Waxman's, what we'd done then.

A wave of nausea threatens my middle as I wonder how many other girls gave him ten minutes. Or more.

In the foyer, I catch a glimpse of the formal dining room where I sat only last night. How can the house still surge with the fresh, innocent scent of pine when the universe is exploding?

He leads me to his room and I stop short when I hear voices. “Are your parents home?”