This Is Falling (6 page)

He seemed to soak up everything I said, and I
found myself wanting to keep talking, telling him more. And a few
times, I thought of stories I
could
share. But they were
stories about Betsy and Josh. Nate doesn’t need to hear those, and
I’m not ready to give them away.

His brother was waiting for him at the
elevator, so I came upstairs alone. All it took was a few seconds
in my own head for me to second guess everything—promising myself
I’d distance from him after today, making sure he didn’t have the
wrong idea or think I could give him more than I can. I need to
remember that Nate isn’t any different from Cass—a new friend. No
matter how he makes my insides feel.

Cass and I have been swapping music for the
last two hours while Paige gets ready in the bathroom. The freshman
mixer is tonight, and I saw them setting up for it in the gym when
I left with Nate earlier. Cass is making me go, and I think if I
refused she would throw me over her shoulder and carry me.

I really like her. I think we have a lot in
common, at least, the few things about me that are left. Our music
libraries are almost identical, and she wants to go to Austin for
South-by-Southwest this year. I’ve always wanted to go to a music
festival, too, but that’s just not in my cards. I’ve spent the last
forty-eight hours talking myself out of dropping out of college. I
don’t think a road trip will be possible until I can master a
semester or two.

“So, how was your…
lunch,
” Cass asks,
making air quotes around the word lunch, which I don’t really
understand.

“It was fine. He seems nice,” I say, noticing
Paige is paying attention to us now.

“Riiiiight. Nice,” Cass teases, and I just
shake my head.

“We’re friends. That’s all.”

“Hmmmmm, yeah. Same with Ty and me. Of
course, I still kissed him,” she says, standing to her feet the
second she speaks and covering her mouth while it hangs open in a
big
O
, her eyes wide.

“You slut,” Paige butts in, “I knew you liked
that guy. But he’s in a wheelchair?”

Cass shrugs a
so what
, but I kind of
want to kick Paige. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to understand
how she and Cass are sisters.

“Yeah, well, you can have that guy. Just keep
your hands off his brother,” Paige says. My body fires up
defensively, but I keep my eyes down, thumbing through my music on
my iPod. I can feel Cass looking at me, and I’m forcing myself to
control my breathing.

“Maybe Rowe can help you out there,” Cass
says. “She and Nate are
friends.
”

My stomach is thumping with my own pulse, and
I feel heat roll over my spine. I decide to keep my eyes down,
because I know looking up will give something away. This is
jealousy. I remember this emotion, too.

“Oh. My. God! You’re friends with Nate
Preeter? He is so fucking hot! How can you even stand it?” Paige
continues to gush about Nate, his perfect abs, his eyes, his
ass—she’s the female version of a Hooter’s patron. The more she
talks about him, the more I wish I never met him at all, because
then I wouldn’t have to be in this situation, feeling…
gah!
I
don’t know what this is I’m feeling, and that’s part of the
problem.

“I don’t know him that well,” I say, trying
to get her to drop it.

“That’s okay. Just introduce us. He’ll
remember me from the party when you do, and I can take it from
there.”

I don’t answer her, but it doesn’t matter.
She goes back to the closet, stripping out of the short dress she
had on and opting for an even shorter one. Cass is looking at me
again, but I can’t tell if she’s smiling or showing sympathy,
because I won’t bring my eyes back up to deal with anything else
that happens in this room tonight. Putting my headphones on, I turn
up the volume on my iPod and close my eyes, lying back, and
pretending to rest while my mind conjures up pictures of my fist in
Paige’s face. And I hate that I feel this way.

Katy Perry is blasting from the speakers in
the gym, and Paige is singing along loudly.
Check
—one more
assumption confirmed. Nothing against Katy—she’s on my iPod, too.
She’s just followed up by the Kings of Leon and The National. Maybe
I’m a music snob, and it’s probably from two years of social
isolation, but I just feel like a person who sings along with Katy
Perry…in public, for attention…doesn’t have much else to offer.

Of course, the fact that I can see Paige’s
nipples through the fabric of her dress begs to differ. Yes, she
has two more things to offer, and she’s serving them up tonight. I
just hope Nate’s not interested. Or maybe I don’t care. Maybe I
hope he is interested so that way I can sum him up nicely too, and
go back to putting my life back together.

“Thirty-three.” Nope, I definitely hope he’s
not interested in Paige. His voice is deep and perfect; I couldn’t
make his southern accent up if I tried.

“Heinz,” I say, instantly wishing I owned a
dress like Paige’s. Not that I could ever fill it out like she
does. Once again, I’m in denim shorts and a tank top. I pull the
bottom of my shirt down to my pockets, making sure it covers my
scars underneath.

“Heinz?”

“You know, Heinz Fifty-Seven?” My joke
doesn’t feel as clever now, and I can see Paige rolling her eyes
next to me, just waiting to steal the spotlight. Nate smirks and
chuckles quietly; I feel pretty confident it was a pity laugh.

“So, this is my roommate Cass, you met her
yesterday?” Nate smiles and nods toward her, quickly moving his
eyes back to me. I can feel Paige kicking at my feet just waiting
for her turn. “Oh, and this is my other roommate, Paige. They’re
sisters.”

“By blood, but really, we’re nothing alike,”
Paige says, stepping in front of both Cass and me to make sure
she’s the first thing Nate sees. And I know he sees her breasts,
because I watch both his and Ty’s bodies tense as their eyes zero
in exactly where Paige wants them to go. She’s like a bloody
hypnotist! She may be a genius.

“They’re tits, boys. Get over them,” Cass
says, walking over to the check-in table and leaving me both
mortified and in awe all at once.

When I turn back around, Nate’s eyes are back
on me. He’s rubbing his chin, laughing because Cass caught him.

“Sorry, nothing to see here,” I say, grabbing
my chest and squeezing. It’s like an out-of-body experience, and I
can’t believe I said something so bold and brave, but the way he
smiles makes me feel proud.

The program director starts calling everyone
into the main gym for activities, so we all follow Paige through
the doors. The crowd is a little overwhelming, and my feet feel
stuck to the carpet. Paige is far ahead of me, and Cass and Ty are
close behind her. I can feel my chest crackling, fighting to
breathe, when suddenly Nate’s hand rests on my back. His touch
makes my eyes blink rapidly, and it feels like a thousand volts
into my heart. And then…calm.

“Come on, we’ll survive this together,” he
says, his breath hot against my neck and ear. Despite the dozens of
strangers packed in the small space around me, I’m still
standing…and breathing. And I think that’s because of Nate.

For the next hour, we break into groups and
meet new people based on the various things the moderator calls
out. The first grouping is based on the middle initials. Mine is
Anne, so I go to the A group, and I go there slowly.
Breathe.
Breathe deeply.
Nate is with me again, and instantly I
relax.

“Andrew,” he says, shrugging.

“Anne.”

While in our group, the moderator reorganizes
us by birthdays, first asking for months—Nate is still next to me
for February—and then by dates.

“What’s yours?” he asks, his fingers out like
he’s calculating.

“I’m the fifteenth,” I say, hearing someone
next to me say they’re the fifteenth, too.

“Sixteenth,” Nate says, and he puts his hand
flat along my spine again, keeping me close.

“Now I’d like everyone to turn to your right,
and put your hands on the shoulders of the person in front of you,”
the moderator calls.

Nate is in front of me, and there’s a small,
quiet girl with curly hair behind me. I still feel my muscles
tighten when she puts her hands on me, but I’m able to endure it. I
think it would be worse if it were one of the other guy’s in the
group, but I’m comfortable here between this girl and Nate.

The moment my fingers connect with his
shoulders, I feel it again—it’s that heart-speeding-up kind of
feeling. I know I should forget about it, bury it, and stuff it
away deep inside—because I only have enough energy to focus on
being a human. I don’t have the capacity to focus on being a
girl.
But I can’t help this reaction. His muscles are hard,
and I feel every curve of his shoulders and the grooves along his
back.

“That’s it, Thirty-three. Dig in right
there,” he jokes, while I massage and work his muscles. The girl
behind me can barely be felt, but I’m letting my fingers and thumbs
rub all along Nate’s broad shoulders and back.

“Switch!” the moderator calls, and I turn
quickly, knowing that Nate’s hands are seconds away from my bare
skin. I’m both thrilled and worried that I wore a shirt with
spaghetti straps. I try to put my focus on the shoulders of the
small girl in front of me, doing my best to stare at the words on
the back of her shirt, but I don’t give her near the attention I
gave Nate. I’m more patting her shoulders in circles.

Nate’s fingers sweep my hair over my shoulder
first, and I hold my breath the entire time. I can hear him
breathing behind me, like I’ve tuned out every other sound in the
gym, and I flush when I realize my arms are covered in goosebumps.
I know he sees it, and for a moment, I think I feel him blow gently
on my neck. His fingers finally find my shoulders, and my lips part
and let out a sigh. Thank god he can’t see my face right now.

His touch is slow and deliberate, his thumbs
circling gently along my back and his fingertips feeling every inch
of bare skin on my shoulders. My eyes are locked on the moderator,
and internally, I’m begging her to forget about the next
announcement; when I see her pull the mic to her lips, I almost
cry.

“Okay, now freeze right where you are.
Slowly, I want you all to sit on the lap of the person behind
you.”

I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready for
this. I can’t be a girl.
Maybe I can dazzle Nate again with
Paige’s blatant nipples. I’m looking for her, actually wanting her
distraction, but she’s a dozen circles away. Cass seems to have
bailed out completely—instead, sitting along the wall with Ty, and
they’re both watching Nate and me, giving each other commentary.
She catches me looking at her and lifts her hand from her knee for
a small wave.

“I got you,” Nate says over my shoulder,
sending the goosebumps I just got rid of right back along my arms.
Without warning, I’m suddenly sitting back, his hands firmly on my
hips, guiding me onto his legs. Everyone is giggling—everyone…but
me. My body is starting to shake, and I know he can feel it.

“You won’t fall, I’ve got you,” he says over
my shoulder.

I’m not worried about falling, I’m worried
about not being able to get out once I’m tangled with other bodies.
And maybe I’m worried about how sitting on Nate’s lap is going to
make me feel.

His legs are just as strong as his shoulders,
if not stronger. They’re solid, and long, and warm; I can feel my
back pressing against his chest, which is also solid and
strong—unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I don’t even notice the girl
in front of me sitting on my lap; I keep my hands along her
shoulders for support. Sparing a look downward, I see Nate’s hands
still along my waist—and for just a few seconds, my mind fools me,
and I see Josh’s hands instead.

Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I wish my
vision away.
Josh is not here.
When I open again, I see the
differences. The last time a boy touched me here—anywhere—his hands
were soft and young, the hands of someone who’s barely lived. It’s
only been two years, but it seems eighteen is so very far from
sixteen. Or maybe it’s just the way Nate is built. His hands are
rough and weathered, and large enough to wrap completely around my
midsection if he wanted them to.

I must have been holding my breath the entire
time, because it seems minutes have passed without my knowledge,
and I’m on my back with Nate’s perfect, dusty blue-gray eyes
staring back and forth from one eye to the other. His lips are
moving, but I don’t hear any sound.
I don’t hear any
sound!

It doesn’t take long for my heart to react,
and suddenly I’m sitting and fighting and punching to break free.
Exits, where are the exits? Why are Josh’s hands on me again? Why
is he stopping me?

“Rowe! Rowe! Breathe!”

Breathe. That’s right; just breathe.

I blink. It’s like one of those sand drawings
where slowly everything falls into place, and I can see the entire
picture. Most of the other students are leaving the gym, and the
music comes back into focus. I see Cass standing over Nate’s
shoulder. And Nate—Nate is holding me at my shoulders and looking
with concern into my eyes.

“Wha…what happened?” I ask, wondering why the
room is no longer filled with freshmen sitting in circles.

“You fainted,” Nate says, moving his hands
from my shoulders to my face. The way he’s squeezing my cheeks
makes me feel as if I’m making a fish face, and I scoot away from
him. “You hit your head. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. Just…just a little confused is
all. How did I get on the floor?”

His hands are back on my face, and he’s
looking at me closely. I’m not sure he has any qualifications to be
giving me a concussion test, but I let him look this time, mostly
because I like the way my head feels in his hands.