This Is Falling (21 page)

But I did. And I do. And seeing her now makes
me wish like hell I didn’t take it back.

Chapter
19

Rowe

After Nate took back what he said, I became
hyper-focused on fixing Cass and Ty. I was a little hurt at first
that I had to find out about their fight from Nate, but Cass said
she thought it was going to just be a nothing thing that would blow
over. Unfortunately, when she went to talk to Ty about it a few
hours later, he told her he thought they should take a breather,
and maybe they were getting too serious.

It wasn’t even my relationship—I wasn’t even
sure if what I was in
was
a relationship. But the thought of
running away for fear of being too serious made something inside me
snap. Cass and Ty had to try, because how was I supposed to
navigate being with someone if those two couldn’t figure things
out?

“Girl, this better work,” Paige says as she
walks by me quickly in the hallway, her tote bag filled with
way
too much alcohol. Paige brought two of her new sorority
sisters with her, which made me a little nervous, because I knew
Nate was putting himself out there sneaking us out on the ball
fields again.

“Seriously, they can’t tell anyone about
this. And no more people,” I whisper to her in the elevator. Paige
just winks at me and pulls her bag in against her body.

Nate and Ty are waiting for us downstairs,
and we all start walking across the street. Just as I planned, Nate
dials my phone from his pocket a few seconds into our walk, and I
pretend it’s my parents calling.

“Yeah, I filled that out. No, I promise I
did. Uhhhg, hold on,” I say, pretending I’m having a conversation
about financial forms with my mother. Nate reaches into his pocket
to end the call, but I keep the phone to my ear and hold up a
finger to my friends.

“Hey, guys. I’ll just meet you there in like
five minutes. I have to run up and check something for my mom,” I
say, turning to jog back inside quickly. I hear Ty offer to wait
for me, but Paige steps right in and throws her pretend
tantrum—which is so accurate to her real tantrums—and explains that
she can’t be standing around campus with a bag of alcohol. I look
back once I make it to the lobby, and the group has all started
moving again.

Cass got a different version of the story. I
knew she would be working out tonight, so I told her I would just
wait for her to come home, and she and I would walk together. And
somehow, all of my dominos have lined up today, because she’s back
to our room right on schedule.

Her shower is fast—another trait opposite of
her sister—and we’re walking over to the field maybe twenty minutes
behind everyone else. I text Nate to let him know we’re coming, and
I feel my pocket buzz when we get to the outfield gate.

Ty is three shots in. You better hurry!

I manage to keep Cass distracted long enough
for her and me to get deep into the outfield before she notices Ty,
but she freezes as soon as she does.

“Oh fuck no,” Ty says, tossing whatever was
left in the cup in his hand into the grass.

“Rowe, did you know he was going to be here?”
Cass looks heartbroken, and I feel sick. I shrug and start
rethinking any good idea I ever thought I had. When Cass turns away
and starts to leave, I grab her hand and I pull her close to me. I
look Ty right in the eyes.

“No, Cass is my friend and
I
want her
here,” I say, keeping my eyes on his—a staring contest I have no
intention of losing. And I don’t.

“Fine, whatever,” Ty says, turning toward
Nate to talk privately.

I’m pretty worried this isn’t going to work,
but then Nate raises his arms over his head in a long stretch and
yawns, and as Ty turns to look away, Nate holds both thumbs in the
air and winks at me.

Drinking is the focus for the next hour. I’m
careful, sipping slowly on my cup of rum and Coke that Nate mixed
special for me. I’ve never been drunk. Just one more thing in that
long line of rites of passage I missed during the
homeschool
years.
The more the others do shots and play games though, the
more I understand why Paige picked the sorority she did. The two
girls she brought with her—I think their names are Lindsay and
Angie?—could not be any more like her if they tried.

“Dude, are you sure these two aren’t your
twins?” Ty asks, making a joke after we all endure a ten-minute
long recap of their trip to the department store makeup
counter.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure that would make them
triplets, dumbass,” Nate says.

Everyone laughs—everyone, but Cass. I feel
horrible, because she has sat with Nate and me for the last hour,
just staring at Ty. I know she wants him to come talk to her, and
when I tried to encourage her to go to him, she shot me that look
that was more than a warning.

“Yeah, uh, this has been nice, but…I kinda
think I’m gonna go. I have a test tomorrow…or something,” she says,
brushing the small bits of grass from the back of her shorts while
she stands and hands me her still-full cup.

“Oh, Cass. Please…stay?” I say, knowing she
won’t.

“I…I can’t,” she says, looking over my
shoulder to where Ty is busy entertaining Paige and her friends. I
could kill Paige for bringing distractions.

Cass walks over to her sister and gives her a
hug, and says something that makes them both laugh, and then she
starts the long walk across the outfield grass.

“Well, crap,” I say to Nate, taking a bigger
drink from my cup than I have all night. It makes my belly warm and
burns my throat a little, like old cough medicine.

“Hold on, give it a minute,” he says,
threading his fingers through mine, and pulling my body in closely
against his. He nods in Ty’s direction, and I look up to see him
following Cass with his eyes. Within seconds, he hands his cup back
to Paige and looks over at his brother and me.

“Yo, dude. I’m taking off, too,” he says.

“Yeah you are,” Nate says, his knowing smirk
taking up every bit of his face.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ty says, holding up both middle
fingers.

“Holy damn. That worked!” I say, my heart
speeding up with adrenaline to the point where I almost feel like
running. And I might, except my head feels a little bit like it’s
floating away from my body.

“Whoa, slow down there, slugger. I think
you’ve had enough,” Nate says, taking the cup from my hands.

“Awe, I barely even finished one drink,” I
say, seriously thirsty for more, and liking the small tingles
firing away along my skin. I was buzzing for sure, but I think I
was more affected by the way Nate was holding me, and the warmth of
his leg and side and chest along the right half of my body.

“I know, but I just got you home. I don’t
want to spend tonight watching you lose your onion burger in the
dorm bathrooms,” he says, his eyes lowering to look at my lips. His
breathing changes, and when his teeth tug lightly at his bottom
lip, I can’t seem to stop myself from leaning in to kiss him,
completely forgetting the fact that three other girls are out here
with us.

As soon as my lips hit his, I’m sunk, and
when his hands reach for my face, I move to my knees, sliding one
leg over him so I’m straddling his lap, our lips never breaking. He
sits up taller when I do this, letting his hands trail down my
shoulders and arms, reaching around my waist to the back pockets of
my shorts, pulling me to him even tighter.

This
is desire. I have had sex exactly
once in my life, and it was awkward and uncomfortable, just like a
teenager’s first time should be. But that was planned and
orchestrated and coordinated to go along with Josh’s parents’ work
schedules. Everything running through my mind right now is
impulsive, and there’s a part of me, a raw and hungry urge, that
wants Nate completely.

“Good god, get a room!” Paige’s voice breaks
through our kiss, and Nate pulls his lips from mine, his eyes
focusing on nothing but my eyes and mouth.

“That’s probably a good idea. Ladies, I trust
you can find your way home,” Nate says, standing with me wrapped
around the front of his body, and quickly moving his lips back to
mine. He carries me that way all the way to the ball-field gate
while Paige whistles behind us. “If Ty is in my room, I am kicking
him out,” he says, his voice almost a deep growl in my ear.

“If Ty is in your room,
I
will kick
him out,” I say, moving my hands to his face and continuing our
kiss once again. Nate carries me all the way to the main road
across the street from our dorm building, and then he lets my body
slowly slide from his until my feet touch the ground. His grip on
my hand is tight, and I can feel my heartbeat in every inch of my
body, the
thump-thump
growing faster and stronger the closer
we get to Nate’s room.

Thankfully, there’s no need to kick Ty out
when we get there, and Nate pushes the door closed behind us
seconds after we enter, locking it before coming back to me. I tug
at the long-sleeved hooded T-shirt he was wearing, and he helps me
bring it over his head, quick to find my lips again once it’s off.
He’s backing me toward his bed, and we’re both working to kick our
shoes off, tripping over one another and laughing when our feet get
tangled.

Once I feel the back of my legs rest along
the edge of his mattress, I sit back, my hands resting on either
side of me, waiting for Nate to push me completely on my back. But
when he reaches over and presses the switch on his desk lamp, my
body drains of every feeling, and panic replaces it.

“Don’t turn the light on,” I say, my voice
breaking while I struggle not to completely succumb to the tears I
feel just under the surface. “I…I don’t want you to
see
me.”

Nate

Her voice is fucking heartbreaking, and it
stops me cold. She’s the single most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,
and the thought of touching her like this and not being able to see
her—not just her body, but to see her face, her lips, her eyes
flutter closed—is torture. But the way she asks, begs me to keep us
in the dark, is about something bigger.

“You’re beautiful,” I say, stepping back
enough to let my fingers graze along her cheek and chin. She leans
into my palm, her head heavy as she closes her eyes.

“No, I’m not,” she says, moving back in my
bed until her back is against the wall. She draws her knees into
her body and brings her hands to her face next, then begins to
cry.

I hate that she thinks this about herself,
and I hate that she lost two years of her life to fear and
obligation. But she
has
to understand how beautiful she is.
I crawl up next to her and pull her into my lap, locking my arms
around her so she has nowhere to go, and she melts into me.

This…
this
is what I meant when I said
“I’ll wait.” I don’t need all of her, not all at once. I am willing
to wait for whatever pieces she’s willing to give. And if I have to
help her make each piece whole first, then so be it.

I wait. I wait while she slows her breathing
down and stops her eyes from watering. I wait while she chews at
the edges of her fingernails, her eyes entranced into nothingness
while her mind sorts out whatever roadblock is standing in her way.
I wait for her to finally look at me, breathe deeply, and tell me
her secrets. And I would wait forever. But I don’t have to tonight,
because she’s looking at me, trembling, but ready to face her
demons.

“My body…” she starts, but pauses, moving
from my arms to sit in front of me, facing me. “I live with this
constant reminder of what happened. It’s…it’s why I don’t shower
when everybody else does. It’s why I wear clothing that covers me
just enough. And even when they’re covered…I know they’re there. I
can
feel
them.”

She’s hugging herself again, and I’m starting
to understand that this isn’t just something she does when she’s
nervous. It’s something she does to remind herself of that day, of
Josh—to punish herself when she feels guilty for forgetting.

“Show me,” I say, my voice almost a whisper
as I keep my eyes to hers, willing her to trust me, to love me.

“You’ll think I’m ugly,” she says, the tears
once again threatening to come.

“Never,” I say.

She leaves her eyes on mine for minutes, and
I never break. I won’t break. And I will wait—for as long as it
takes. Her squeezing of herself loosens, and eventually her hands
find their way to her lap, and then the bottom of her shirt. She
lifts and pulls the first layer away, but I keep my stare locked on
her eyes. I don’t want her to feel frightened or ashamed, so I
won’t look. Not until she tells me to. She’s still wearing a tight
black tank top, but once she discards the first shirt on the floor,
she begins to pull this one over her head too, her eyes telling me
just how terrified she is.

Rowe is the bravest person I know. I still
don’t know what it is she’s hiding from me, because I won’t look
until she tells me to. But I can see this struggle playing out in
her eyes while she talks to me without talking. All I can see from
my periphery is the thin, black strap and lace edge of her bra, but
I know other than that, her top is completely bare. Her breathing
comes in fragments—almost as if she’s drowning. But I don’t stop
her. I know if she had to, if she wanted to, she would stop. She’s
testing herself, to see if she’s strong enough. And I have to let
her see if she is.

She reaches for my hand, and I give it to
her, still maintaining our gaze while she pulls my fingers close to
her. She kisses my knuckles and lays her cheek along the back of my
hand, closing her eyes, before she slowly moves my hand to her side
until I touch her. Once my palm is flat along her skin, she places
her hand on top of mine and looks back to me.