Falling into Us

by Jasinda Wilder

I’d only heard Kyle talk about him a few times growing up. He was reclusive, I remember. Spent most of his time locked away in his room or in the old barn that served as a garage. He spent a lot of time in trouble in high school, I remember that much. Or rather, I’d heard the gossip. He’d left Michigan the day he graduated, leaving behind everything. I remember Kyle talking about it, sounding hurt and confused even as an eleven-year-old. He just left, and that was it.

  Then he’d shown up at the burial, and Nell had gotten out of his huge pick-up truck. What was she doing with him? I couldn’t figure it out, standing at the awning-covered gravesite with Jason’s hand in mine. Why had he come back at all? He’d abandoned his family, his little brother, and as far as I knew, hadn’t so much as called. And now Nell was hanging out with him the day of her boyfriend’s funeral? I tried not to feel betrayed somehow. She didn’t look at me, at anyone. She just stood in front of the cherrywood casket with the brass railings around the outside, the wet grass around the hole covered by the fake-grass-turf sort of carpeting. She looked as if she was about to jump into the deep dark hole and stay there with Kyle.

  When Nell stumbled on the grass, Colton’s hand steadied her. I didn’t want him to touch her. She belonged to Kyle. I felt anger radiating from Jason beside me, and I knew he was feeling a similar conflicted confusion.

  Nell sat down on a chair and stared listlessly into space as a minister spoke meaningless words. I cried softly, like Kyle’s mother, like Mrs. Hawthorne, like so many people…except Nell. Nell wasn’t crying, hadn’t cried that I saw.

  When the words were spoken, she had tossed a flower into the grave, then turned and ran, stumbling on her high heels, kicking them off, her cast cradled against her side. Who followed her? Colton. I heard whispers, people asking the same questions I was thinking.

  Now she sat with a cup of coffee in front of her, stirring it idly with a battered spoon. We were in a diner in Ann Arbor. She’d come out to see me since I was inundated with classes and homework. When I called her this morning to see if she could come hang out for a few hours, she’d agreed, but her voice had sounded apathetic and resigned.

  I sipped my coffee and watched Nell stare into the swirling caramel-colored depths of her coffee. “Nell? Have you…seen anyone?”

  “Seen who?” She glanced at me briefly, but then went back to staring into her coffee, just the tips of her fingers peeking out from the sleeves of her dove-gray North Face fleece.

  I shrugged. “Someone. A…therapist. About what happened. ”

  She shook her head, the tip of her loosely braided hair shaking over her shoulder. “No. I’m fine. ”

  “I don’t think you are. ”

  She finally met my eyes, her gaze almost angry. “Okay, well, am I supposed to be? He died barely three months ago. I loved him. What’s a therapist going to do? Tell me it’s not my fault? Talk to me about acceptance and the stages of grief? I don’t need that bullshit, Becca. ” She looked away, out the window to the cool, overcast October afternoon. “I just want him back. ”

  “I know. ”

  “No…you don’t. ” The last word was uttered in an intense whisper, and the utter anguish I saw in her eyes tore into me.

  “Nell…” I wanted to help her, to get her to talk about it.

  She wouldn’t. She hadn’t said one word about the accident since that first day in her room. She’d stayed home with her parents rather than go to any of the universities to which she’d been accepted. She was going to Oakland Community College and working with her father in his office. Basically, she was going through the motions, but it seemed to me she’d just stopped living.

  “I have to go,” Nell said, finishing her coffee and standing up.

  “You just got here. ”

  “I’m sorry, I just…I need to go. ”

  I tossed money on the table for the coffee, my stomach rumbling since I’d foregone breakfast to have an early lunch with Nell. “Okay, then. ”

  Nell must have heard the irritation in my voice. “Beck, I’m sorry. I just…I can’t be a good friend right now. ”

  “It’s not that, Nell. ” I followed her out into the cool fall air, buttoning my pea coat part way up. “I’m worried about you. ”

  She stopped and turned to look at me. “I know. Everyone is. I don’t know what to say. I just have to get through this, but I don’t know how and no one can help me do it. I just need to go home. I need to be alone. ” She was scratching at her right forearm over the fleece, almost as a nervous habit.

  I stared at her scratching hand. “Nell, you’re not…you’re not doing drugs, are you?”

  She flinched and dropped her hand. “No! Of course I’m not. ”

  “Show me your arm. The one you were scratching. ”

  Nell folded her arms under her br**sts. “No. Stop worrying about me. I swear to you on Kyle’s grave I’m not doing drugs. ”

  I heard the sincerity in her voice and had no choice but to believe her. I leaned in for a hug and smelled alcohol on her breath. “But you’ve been drinking. ” I squeezed her tight, refusing to let go.

  She looked down at me. “A little, here and there. It helps, okay? It helps me cope, and it’s under control. ” My concern must have shown on my face. “I’m an adult, Becca. I can drink if I want. ”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “You’re underage. ”

  She huffed. “Stop being such a stickler, Beck. If this hadn’t happened, I’d be drinking at college anyway. This is just under different circumstances. ” She dug in her purse for her keys. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Are you safe to drive?” I asked.

  “God, Rebecca! Yes! I’m fine! Geez. You’re worse than my parents. At least they leave me the hell alone!”

  Page 54

  “Well, maybe they shouldn’t, Nell!” I snapped back. “Maybe they should be worried about you. I know I am. You’re scaring me. ”

  “You’re my friend. You’re supposed to understand and support me. ”

  “I do. I am. But that doesn’t mean I have to sit by and let you s-sink. ” I ground my teeth together at the stuttered last word, squeezing my eyes shut and focusing. I never stuttered anymore, especially not in public. “I know it’s only been a couple months, but you seem…worse, not better. ”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know what you want from me. He wasn’t just my boyfriend, he was my best friend. I knew him my entire life. I saw him every single day for eighteen years. ” Her hand trembled and she squeezed it into a fist, her unpainted nails digging into her palm. “He was everything. And he’s gone. How am I ever supposed to be better?”

  “I don’t know, Nell. I don’t. I know I can’t understand what you’re going through. ”

  “So stop trying. ”

  “But I—”

  Nell leaned in and kissed my cheek. “I’m going. Thanks for the coffee. I’ll see you later. ” She turned and left without a backward glance, slipping into the driver’s seat of her mother’s Lexus SUV.

  I watched her drive away, heart burdened by worry for my friend. She didn’t seem drunk, but I worried I was being a bad friend by letting her drive when I’d smelled alcohol on her breath. And the scratching of her arm? I’d seen Ben do that before, and I knew for a fact he’d tried hard drugs. She wouldn’t lie to me and swear on Kyle’s grave about it. I knew Nell well enough to know that.

  Right?

  * * *

  I found Jason in the gym reserved for the football team, using a weight machine to lift what looked to be an enormous amount of weight with his legs. He was shirtless, his body glistening with sweat, the muscles swollen from exercise. Even though I was upset, I couldn’t help the low growl of desire from rippling through me. I watched him lower the weight until his knees were bent to his chest, and then he blew out a slow breath and pushed to straighten his legs, visibly straining.

  He was alone in the room, so I crossed behind him, unseen,
the clink of the machine and the huffing of his breathing covering my presence. I waited until he had the weights resting before sliding my palms across his sweaty chest.

  “Hi, baby. ”

  He tilted his head back to look at me upside down. “Hey, beautiful. What are you doing here? I thought you were hanging out with Nell?” I leaned down to kiss him, tasting sweat on his lips and Gatorade on his tongue. “I’m all sweaty. Isn’t that gross?”

  “Have I ever been grossed out by you sweaty?” I brushed my fingers along his jaw. “It’s sexy. Watching you work out turns me on. ” Even though we were alone, I whispered it.

  He grinned at me, but he must have seen the troubled look in my eyes. “What is it, Beck? Where’s Nell?” He swiveled off the bench and stood up.

  I didn’t let him wrap me in his arms, though; just because I liked the way he looked all sweaty and didn’t mind kissing him that way didn’t mean I wanted his sweat all over my clothes. Apparently he knew this, though, because he just held me by the arms.

  “She left. ”

  “Already?” He unbuttoned my pea coat, one button at a time.

  I nodded. “Yeah. I’m really worried about her, Jase. She showed up half an hour late, stayed for one cup of coffee, and then left. ” I let him push the coat off my shoulders and set it across a rack of free weights. “We argued. We never argue. She was so closed off, so defensive. ”

  “She’s going through hell, Beck. You know that. ” He grabbed a towel out of his gym bag on the floor and wiped his face, neck, and chest with it, after which I let him pull me into his arms.

  I sighed against his skin. “Yeah, I do know. But…she was acting…off. Scratching her arm constantly, plus she smelled like she’d been drinking. ”

  That surprised Jason. “Drinking? At one o’clock on a Saturday afternoon?”

  “Exactly. The way she was scratching her arm bothered me. Ben used to do that when he was on drugs. Like, bad drugs. ”

  Jason’s eyes narrowed. “Your brother shoots up?”

  I shook my head. “Not anymore. He went through outpatient drug counseling last year, and he’s been clean since. He did that voluntarily, too. But Nell? I wouldn’t have thought she’d even know what drugs were, much less that she’d do them. ”

  “Did you ask her about it?” Jason’s lips touched my hair, my temple, the tip of my ear.

  “Yeah, of course. She swore on Kyle’s grave that she wasn’t. ”

  He thought for a minute. “I don’t know, then. Maybe it was just a rash. ”

  I shook my head. “She had her sleeves pulled down over her hands the whole time. She wouldn’t show me her arm. ”

  “Well, what can you do? Tell her parents? She’s eighteen—they can’t force her into anything. ”

  “I know,” I said. “I just worry. She’s not herself anymore. She’s changed. I mean, yeah, I know she’s going through a lot, having lost Kyle, but…so have we all. We’re all coping with his loss. ”

  “Think she’d go to a therapist?” His hands massaged my shoulders, and then slid down my back, kneading as he went. “I did, and I know it helped me. And you know how I feel about shrinks. ”

  I’d had to badger him and threaten to refuse to have sex with him until he went to an on-campus therapist with me about Kyle’s death. He still went once a month, and it had turned into a healing process for him regarding his relationship with his father.

  “I know. And yeah, I asked her about that, too. She said it wouldn’t do her any good. All she wanted was Kyle back. ”

  Jason just sighed. “I don’t know what to tell you. It all sounds worrisome. But…what can we do except keep trying to help her and be there for her if she needs us?” I nodded and tilted my chin up for a kiss. “I’m gonna rinse off real quick, and then what say we go have some lunch? I hear your stomach growling. ”

  “Now that I’ve been snuggling up against you, Mr. Sweaty Muscles, I’m gonna need a shower, too. ”

  His eyes heated up, and his fingers dug into the small of my back. “My roommate is gone for the weekend. ”

  “So’s mine,” I said, shrugging back into my coat.

  Page 55

 

  “My dorm is closer,” he pointed out, winning the discussion.

  He threw a hoodie on over his bare torso and caught up his bag in one hand, pulling me along beside him with the other. His dorm room was a ten-minute walk through the campus normally, but we made it in nearly five. Jason had his arm wrapped low around my waist, propelling me forward. I pressed my face into his shoulder to hide my grinning giggle. He was in a hurry, and so was I.

  My arm mirrored his, slipping low around his waist, and I felt his muscles shifting under my hand as I walked. I had an image of him as he’d be as soon as we closed the door to his dorm room: shirtless, his heavy, swollen muscles tantalizing me, spiked blond hair messy and wet with sweat, gym shorts riding low around his hips to show his V-cut.

  I pushed him through his door as he opened it, then put my back to the door as soon as it latched. I twisted the lock and stood with my feet together, hands pressed against the door behind me, head tilted back slightly. I was waiting.

  Jason made a game of it then, once we were locked in his room. He set his bag gently down on the floor beside his bed, then dug his keys, phone, and wallet out of the side pocket and set them on his desk. He hadn’t looked at me, hadn’t so much as turned around. He was moving as slowly as he could, just to see how long I would let it play out until I jumped him.

  Over the last two years, we’d discovered that I was often the aggressor in our sexual relationship. He liked it that way, and so did I.

  He flipped open the top of his laptop, logged in, and checked his email, typing a quick response to a classmate. Then, with agonizing slowness, he peeled his shirt off, and I was treated to a view of his ridiculously muscled back, the huge deltoids, lats, and traps rippling deliciously as he wadded up the shirt and tossed it into the hamper in the corner. Then, just to tease me, he stretched and tensed his arms; he knew all too well how I felt about his back. Then he turned slowly around, and I could tell he was flexing his abs because he knew how I felt about them.

  Yeah, I was a lucky girl.

  He lifted an eyebrow at me, and I just lifted mine back. I unbuttoned my pea coat, slipped it off my shoulders, and let it fall to the ground. Then, in a private joke, I bit the corner of my lip and shook my hair like a model in a shampoo commercial. Jason tried not to laugh at me, and marginally succeeded, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a constrained smile.

  We each kicked off our socks and shoes, then stood a foot apart, staring at each other, daring the other to move first. I broke; my fingers grasped the edge of my T-shirt and peeled it off slowly. Jason’s gaze locked immediately onto my br**sts, pushed up by a basic red front-clasp bra. I teased him again, brushing one strap off my shoulder, then the other. I hesitated at the clasp, pinching the edges together so only my hands held it closed. I held the edges with one hand, slipped my arm out of the strap, then switched; in one quick motion I dropped the bra and covered my br**sts with my hands, and Jason groaned out loud.

  “You’re killing me, Smalls. ” He stepped closer to me, staring hungrily at the swell of skin spilling out from behind my hands.

  I stood in place, tilting my head up as he drew closer. “I’ll drop my hands when you drop your pants. ”

  “But then I’ll be naked, and you’ll still be in your pants. ”

  I lifted a shoulder in an insouciant shrug. “I’m sure you could help me out with that. ”

  He stepped out of his shorts to stand in front me in a pair of tight boxer-briefs, blue and green plaid cotton darkened by sweat. I compromised with him and moved my hands so all that covered my ni**les were my two middle fingers. He drew in a deep breath, then closed the last few inches between us, slid slowly to his knees in front of me, his hands on the flesh of my hips above my skinny
jeans. He kept his eyes on mine as he released the button and slid the zipper down, then pushed them down around my thighs, where they stuck.

  He frowned at the pants, then up at me. “Damn, baby, these are tight. How the hell did you get into them?”

  “Generous use of Crisco and a long running start,” I said.

  He laughed hard, his face resting against my belly. “God, that was funny. Seriously, though. How do you get them off?”

  “Pull them by the cuff. ”

  He lifted my foot and tugged the jeans off one leg, then the other, and I was naked in front of him except a V-string thong.

  “Holy shit, when’d you get those underwear?” He took me by the hips and turned me in place so I faced the door. “Damn, Beck. That’s like dental floss and a Band-aid. ” His hands slid over the sides of my bu**ocks, then curved inward to cup the swell, kneading the flesh and muscle greedily.

  I laughed breathlessly. “I bought them yesterday. Victoria’s Secret was having a sale, so I actually got a few pairs. ” I arched my back, pushing my chest forward and my backside out, drawing one leg forward and stretching the other, a pose that felt silly to me but clearly drove Jason wild, judging by the growl in his chest and the way his hands palmed my thighs and ass. “They don’t cover much, do they?”

  “Cover much? They don’t cover anything. Your entire ass is completely bare. ”

  “Good thing only you will ever see them, then, huh? Well, except my roommate. ”

  “She’s not a lesbian, is she?”

  I quirked an eyebrow at him in question. “Would it bother you if she was?”

  “Not in general, no. But as it concerns you, yes. You’re mine. Man, woman, it doesn’t matter. No one else can have you. ”

  I sighed at him. “No, she’s not. She’s kind of a skank, actually. She brings guys back to our room almost every night, and they have sex whether I’m in the room or not. Like, they don’t always even bother to pull the blanket over themselves. It’s gross. ” I tilted my head as a thought struck me. “I thought guys were supposed to be turned on by the idea of two girls going at it?”

  Jason hooked his index fingers into the string of my thong and drew it slowly down, pulled it off, then held it to his nose and sniffed, much to my mortification. “It’s more of a visual thing, I think,” he said, sliding up my body so his erection nestled between the cheeks of my ass, his hands slipping around my waist to cup my hipbones. “I’m pretty sure for most guys it’s not really the idea of two women having sex that turns them on, in a homosexual sense. It’s more the visual of two naked women together, all those curves, you know? And no, watching you with another woman would not turn me on. I’d be just as possessive and jealous over that as you with another guy. ”