This Is Falling (30 page)

“You’re kidding?” he says, pulling back a
little to look in my eyes, and I just shake my head
no,
confirming for him.

“There’s a lot I haven’t seen or done,” I
say, my face flushing a little remembering the last
first
that Nate gave to me.

“So it would seem,” he teases, but his
teasing is short. “We should make a list. I’d like to be a part of
more firsts.”

“Okay,” I say, doing my best to force my
brain to focus on anything other than my old bedroom, and my old
boyfriend who lives only a few blocks away. “I can’t drive.”

“Wha?” Nate says, the sound of his voice
soothing as his neck presses lightly over my ear.

“Never learned. Then, just sort of never
needed to get anywhere. Permit expired, and ta da! I’m a lame
teenager,” I say.

“Yeah, you’re pretty lame,” he says, unable
to hold in the small laugh that vibrates in his chest. “Good thing
you have a cool boyfriend. I’ll teach you…over Thanksgiving.”

“Thanks,” I say, not really meaning for the
driving lessons.

“You’re welcome,” he says, pulling me tighter
and flipping out the light; I know he’s not talking about driving
lessons either. This is love.

Chapter
25

Nate

I am going to play like shit today. I don’t
sleep well when Rowe is with me. It’s not because I’m uncomfortable
or she snores or anything like that. It’s just that I can’t let
myself relax, like I always need to keep my eyes on her. I’m afraid
she’ll disappear.

Ty woke us up early, and I had been asleep
for maybe a couple hours before he came barreling into our room
looking for his razor and grabbing a change of clothes. I told him
about Thanksgiving, and he seemed genuinely excited. And for a
while, I thought he might want to ask Cass to come, too, but he
never fully went there. Maybe it’s because Cass has her sister. Or
maybe my brother’s afraid.

When I walk out from the dugout, there’s a
man leaning against the third baseline wall, and at a quick glance,
it looks like Rowe’s father. I head that direction in case it is,
because I know Rowe’s parents had planned on coming to most of my
game before they had to leave for their flight. I confirm it’s him
as I get closer, and when he recognizes me, he pulls his sunglasses
off and tucks them in his shirt pocket.

“Mister Stanton, thanks for coming out again
today. I sure hope we can pull of a win for you,” I say, reaching
to shake his hand one more time. “I’m sorry, Rowe’s not here yet.
She said you guys were coming right at the start of the game, so
she’s probably still getting ready.”

I feel like he can see through my lies, like
he knows I spent the night with his daughter, and only left her an
hour or two ago.

“Oh, thanks, Nate. Yeah, her mother will come
with her. I wanted to get here early,” he pauses, and it’s
strange.

“Oh, more tips for my game? You know, your
daughter has had a few things to say about my swing,” I laugh,
trying my damnedest to lighten what is quickly become a very
serious mood. Tom laughs in response, but it’s a forced one, and I
can tell his mind is elsewhere.

“No, actually…I was hoping to catch you
before your game,” he says, his eyes focusing somewhere over my
shoulder until he takes in a sharp breath and looks me right in the
eyes. “How much do you know…about Rowe?”

“I know enough, sir,” I respond quickly, and
I realize my reaction at first sounds a bit defensive, so I add to
it. “I mean…she told me…about what happened, the shooting.”

Tom nods, his eyes full of this un-maskable
sadness. “Did she tell you about her best friend? Betsy?”

“Yes,” I say, my stomach heavy.

“And…Josh?”

“Yes,” I say, looking down—out of respect.
When I look back up, his gaze is once again distant. But I know he
has more to say. It’s like he’s stuck—and the longer we stand here
in silence, the more the pressure of…of whatever it is he needs to
tell me eats away at us both. “Sir, what’s going on?”

His eyes close when I ask, and when he opens
them again, looking at me, they’re red from his efforts not to
cry.

“She’s different here. Rowe?” he says, and
all I can do is nod in return. “She’s…better. God Nate, you have no
idea how scared Karen and I were, how afraid we were that Rowe
would never…
ever…
get better. She was like a zombie that
first year. You know, she didn’t even talk for the first six
months.”

I wasn’t aware of that, but I don’t say a
word. What Rowe wants me to know and what her father wants me to
know need to exist in two separate boxes. And I need to be strong
enough to keep them apart.

“Therapy every day. And for the first year,
we couldn’t get her out of the house. Then one day, she asked us if
she could go visit Josh. So we drove her there, just happy she
wanted to get out of the damned house, you know?”

He’s crying now, and seeing this
man—six-foot-plus and in his late forties—cry, has me wanting to as
well. But I don’t. I take in a deep breath, and nod, needing him to
continue.

“She sat in their kitchen, rooms away from
him, not wanting to
actually
see him, but just wanting to
see where he was. Be near his family. Josh couldn’t hear her
anyhow. He couldn’t talk or open his eyes. He was just lying there
with tubes and machines and a live-in nurse that the state paid for
as part of a settlement for his parents. Ha! Like that’s supposed
to somehow make it better. They were at school, Nate! That’s
supposed to be the safest place in the goddamned world!”

I let him pause for a minute and breathe. I
can’t even imagine what it must be like to be a parent in his
situation, let alone Josh’s parents.

“I’m sorry. I just get so damned angry when I
think about it.”

“I understand,” I say, not wanting to
interrupt more.

“Anyway, we drove her. And then she wanted to
go again the next day. So we drove her again. Every day, for six
months, we drove her to Josh’s parents house, and she sat in their
living room and kitchen, talking to Josh’s mom, or just reading.
Sometimes she just went over there to do her homework. And then one
day, she didn’t want to go any more. She said she felt stuck, and
then she had this awful panic attack where she couldn’t breathe,
and she started vomiting. We told her therapist.”

“Ross,” I say, having heard Rowe mention him
before.

“Right, I’m glad she’s talked about him.
Well, we told Ross, and he said that Rowe was trying to grow up,
move on. But she had guilt. So Ross talked to her about college. We
talked to her about college. And every day we talked about college
a little more. And then she shocked the hell out of Karen and me,
picking McConnell. But we wanted her to go, and the
distance…frankly, the distance was a blessing. She needed that
distance, Nate. She still needs it.”

“This weekend, we see glimpses of our little
girl. She’s
living
. And I know it’s not just because of you.
I give her more credit than that. But Nate, I have to thank you,
because I know you’re a big part of it,” he says.

“I love her, sir,” I say, just needing him to
understand how deep my feelings really are. I don’t want him
thinking that I am just with Rowe because of her situation, because
I feel guilty, or that I’m taking advantage.

He smiles at me and reaches for my hand,
shaking it once, and covering the back with his other hand to hold
it tightly. “I know you do. We can tell you really do,” he says.
“We talked about this all night, Nate. And Karen…she wasn’t sure I
should come talk to you this morning. But…we need your help.”

And suddenly my stomach drops again.
Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong with Rowe…

“Josh passed away. Just a few days ago.” As
soon as he says it I know why he’s here. This will destroy her.
Rowe loves me, and I know she loves me. But Josh has her heart. Not
like a boyfriend, but like a memory. He has her heart
trapped—trapped in that day, trapped in what they were, and trapped
under a mountain of guilt over everything they weren’t.

“What do you need me to do?” I’ll do
anything. Hell. And. Back.

“It’s true—about the job. And we’re selling
the house and moving. But the trip? That part we made up. We were
just going to take her on vacation for the holiday. But thank you
for saving us from doing that. We want to be gone before she knows.
It may not make sense to you, and I know I sound like the worst man
on earth for doing this, but I can’t let my baby girl go
back—she’ll get stuck, Nate. And I just need to make sure there’s
no way for her to get back in, back into that past, when I tell
her. I just need you to be there for her when I do. Because it is
going to break her.”

“I understand,” I say, my skin suddenly
tingling with panic. I know so much…so much more than Rowe. But
it’s her life I know about. And I have to keep this new information
in that other box, the one that I don’t mix with things just for
her. And I am going to have to lie to her.

Tom Stanton pats me on the back, pulling his
sunglasses back out of his pocket before reaching forward to shake
my hand one more time. “Like I said, Nate. Karen and I are so glad
Rowe met you. You’ve been good for her,” he says, stepping up a
level into the stands. “They’ll be here in an hour. So, this…just
between us, okay? I came out here to watch your swing.”

“Yes sir,” I say, my mouth in a hard flat
smile as I push the mask over my eyes and hide how I really feel
from the world.

Chapter
26

Rowe

Ever since my parents left, Nate has been
different. I don’t know how to explain it—he’s still with me, still
physical, and still says he loves me. But he seems to go somewhere
else entirely sometimes, like he’s in the moment, our moment, and
then suddenly he’s not.

“What about this one?” Cass asks, holding up
a nurse’s outfit from the costume rack at the Goodwill in Oklahoma
City.

“Kinda slutty,” I say with a wrinkled nose.
My response gets Paige’s attention.

“Oooooh, lemme see,” Paige says, taking the
naughty nurse outfit from her sister and walking over to a mirror
to hold it up against her body. I’m pretty sure her boobs won’t fit
in it, but then again…maybe that’s the point.

We’ve been shopping for Halloween costumes in
the city for an hour. Paige’s sorority is throwing a huge party at
their house off campus, and when she invited Cass and me, I
actually felt excited. Maybe it’s just the idea of dressing up and
pretending to be someone I’m not. Somehow, that makes it easier to
be in a crowd—like hiding out in the open.

“What did you pick?” Cass asks, still sorting
through the various costumes piled on the floor.

“Ghost,” I say, holding up the sheet I found
for ninety-nine cents.

“That’s lame. You can’t be a ghost,” she
says.

“She’s right. I’ll pretend I don’t know you
if you show up in that crap,” Paige says over the curtain of the
small changing room. She steps out in the nurse’s outfit, which she
has crammed her tits into, and Cass and I just look at each other
and try not to laugh.

“I think I’m getting it,” Paige says, pushing
the halter up to make her boobs even more the main focus.

“Good call,” I say, and when Paige ducks back
into the curtain to change, Cass and I let out a silent laugh.

“Okay, so not a ghost. What should I be
then,” I ask, throwing the sheet back on the shelf nearby but
keeping an eye on it, just in case. I watch as Cass sorts through a
few more costumes and then her eyes light up.

“I got it!” She holds up what looks like an
old-time woman’s baseball uniform, and it’s actually not half
bad.

“Hmmmmm, maybe,” I say, walking over and
holding it up in the mirror.

“You’ll need to tart it up a little,” she
says, tucking the shirt into itself to show what it would look like
with a crop.

“Uhhhh, I don’t think I’m at belly-shirt
confidence levels yet,” I say.

“Right. Sorry, I forgot. Well, then we’ll
just have to take out a few buttons at the top. And I have this
really great bra you can borrow,” she says, looking the outfit over
while chewing on her fingernail.

“I thought this was Paige’s thing—makeovers
and dress up?” I say, wondering when Cass got so girly and
creative.

“Oh, it totally is. I’m just good at sexy
dress-up. I do it for Ty all the time,” she says, like it’s no big
deal.

“Ohhhhh my god. I don’t need to know
this.”

“What? He likes it, and we’re adults,” she
says, then goes back to the pile of costumes, still looking for
something to wear. I hold the outfit back up against my body one
more time, pushing up my boobs, trying to imagine myself. “And I
saw that!” she says. I blush, and put the outfit down in my
lap.

Cass settles on a cheerleader outfit, which I
thought was pretty predictable, but she seemed happy with it. We
take the shuttle back to the campus and spend the rest of the
afternoon getting ready for the party. I told Nate I would just
meet him there since he had late afternoon workouts, and I kind of
wanted to surprise him with my look, especially since he’s been
acting so strange lately.

Before we left, I spent minutes standing in
front of our mirror with Cass’s lacy black bra peaking out—
way
out
—of the baseball jersey I had on. My hair was pulled into
two pigtails, and black mascara smeared under each eye. Cass was
right—the look was sexy, and I was going to get a lot of attention.
I just wasn’t sure if I was ready—or wanted that.

Walking through campus was the hardest part,
because most of the people staying at school were dressed normally,
and I felt the heat of every stare from every male I passed. And
while at first it made me feel a little uneasy, the more it
happened, the more I sort of liked it.