The Moment We Fell

by Kelli Warner

  “Shocking,” Jay answers, amused. “How did the studying session go? Were you able to help Quinn?” I wonder if he ever loses that principal-like tone.

  “I did my best, but I don’t think the Department of Defense will be calling her to help them calculate field coordinates anytime soon.”

  Jay laughs and takes a sip from his cup. “Well, I’m sure the help was appreciated. Get some rest.”

  When he’s gone, I fall back onto the pillows with a sigh and stare at the closed door. If my mother were here, I wouldn’t have to hide anything from her. She’d plop right down cross-legged on the end of my bed and demand I tell her everything. She wouldn’t be able to contain her excitement for me, and she’d want to know more about Cade, her blue eyes dancing with anticipation. I would tell her everything, even about the kiss, and I wouldn’t be embarrassed about it. I don’t want to share any of that with Connie, and definitely not with Jay.

  Quinn is right. I am screwed unless I can keep whatever is happening between Cade and me a secret. It’s ironic really. Secret-keeping is what landed me here in the first place. My mother kept me a secret from Jay, and now it’s all one big mess.

  My cell phone buzzes from the nightstand, and I grab for it. I don’t recognize the number, but my insides flutter at the words on the screen.

  Meet me at Java Joe’s tomorrow at noon. There’s something I want to show you.—C.

  Without hesitation, I type OK and hit Send.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Paige

  “You want me to get on—that?” I stare at the big, silver motorcycle, then my alarm-filled eyes shoot to Cade’s, which are bright with amusement.

  “Is that a problem?” he asks, holding out a black helmet. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”

  I shake my head.

  “Then today’s your lucky day, Bryant,” he says, placing the helmet on my head and fastening the strap beneath my chin with gentle fingers. All at once, the nerve endings in my skin come alive, and I’m hyperaware that someone just painted a thick layer of anxiety down my spine.

  “Relax; I’m an excellent driver.” He swings a long leg over the bike and settles in, putting on a helmet identical to mine. My eyes scan the parking lot and the windows of the coffeehouse.

  Cade’s eyes dawn with an unsettling revelation. “Are you afraid to be seen with me?”

  My lips part in surprise. “No, of course not. It’s just—”

  “You’re worried that someone will see us and tell your dad, right?”

  “No,” I say again, but I feel a twinge of guilt at the lie. It’s not just the fact that Jay would hit the ceiling if he knew I was about to climb on the back of Cade’s motorcycle. It’s that I’m no longer convinced this is a good idea. “Where exactly are we going?”

  “You’ll see,” he says with that crooked smile that does something exhilarating to my insides, but absolutely nothing to quell the wave of unease lurking underneath. “Come on, Bryant, trust me. I’ll take good care of you. Scout’s honor.”

  “You were a Boy Scout?” I ask, skepticism wrapped around each word.

  Cade’s mischievous grin is my answer. “Nope.” He offers me his hand, palm up, and I stare at it as if there’s either an invisible treasure waiting for me or one of those trick buzzers that will send a shock right to my core. I shift from one foot to the other as impulse and reason wage a tug of war inside me. Oh, screw it, you only live once, right? I take his hand, and in one gentle pull, he hoists me up onto the seat behind him.

  “Hold on to me tight,” he says over his shoulder. I do as I’m told as the bike powerfully roars to life, the vibrations shooting through me. Cade pulls out of the lot and onto the road.

  When we hit the highway, it feels as if we are flying. I have no idea where we’re going, and honestly, I don’t care. I wrap my arms around Cade’s firm waist like steel clamps as the air whooshes past us and adrenaline bubbles like fizzy soda in my stomach. I’ve never felt so completely alive. That alone is worth the entire ride. I’m not much of a risk-taker, but right now, I am devouring this sensation of recklessness, of not knowing what’s around each bend or where we will end up. I don’t care that I have no control over this moment, that it could all end in a heartbeat, in a spectacularly disastrous fashion. All that matters to me at this moment is the guy I’m pressed against and holding on to so tightly he’s probably having a tough time drawing a full breath. The connection between us is electric. I have no idea where it came from or what it means, only that I am undeniably addicted to it. And that has me scared out of my freaking mind.

  I’m disappointed when Cade slows the bike at a turnoff and steers it up a winding road that leads to a gravel lot. I catch sight of the small entrance sign as we pass: “Devil’s Eye Viewpoint.”

  When he kills the engine, he removes his helmet and runs a hand through his hair. “This is it.” I steady my hands on his shoulders as I slide off the bike, then he climbs off behind me and unfastens my helmet. He brushes a strand of hair off my forehead. “Look at that, you made it in one piece.”

  I take in our surroundings. There are a couple of other vehicles in the lot, parked close to a path that leads into a canopy of trees.

  “Where are we?” I ask.

  “It’s a nature area. You’ll love it. It’s got a killer view,” Cade says, winking at me.

  “We’re hiking?” I ask, not exactly sure how I feel about that. He nods, releasing a small backpack that’s tethered to the rear of his bike and slipping his arms through the straps. I glance down at my impressively white pair of Converses. Not the best choice of footwear for this excursion, but it will have to do. “Okay.” I sigh. “Lead the way.”

  We make our way up the trail, which quickly grows in incline, and my breathing labors as I work to keep up with Cade’s long strides. We see a few people on the trail. First, a middle-aged couple with walking sticks is carefully making their way down the damp terrain, and Cade greets them politely as they pass. Then, a second couple, who look to be younger, in their twenties maybe, passes us up from behind. They’re moving at an impressive pace. After we’ve been at it for about twenty minutes, Cade stops.

  “Are we here? Is this it?” But that can’t be right. We’re surrounded by trees, and the amazing view he promised me is nowhere to be found.

  “Almost. Just a little farther.”

  I begin walking again, resuming the ascent up the trail, when Cade snags my hand. “This way.” My eyes follow his outstretched arm, but I’m confused to see that the path doesn’t veer that way. He smiles. “Trust me.” That’s the third time in forty-eight hours that he’s asked me to trust him. I fall into step behind him as he pushes through some low branches and into the lush greenness. There’s a path, but it’s apparently not as heavily traveled as the main trail. I’m careful not to trip, stepping gingerly over roots that jut up from the earth and ducking my head to avoid low-hanging limbs.

  Finally, I hear Cade announce over his shoulder, “This is it.” He pushes away the last branches, and we step out onto a rocky ledge that overlooks the coastline and the vast waters of the Pacific Ocean.

  It’s just as he promised: spectacular. The sky is the color of a lead pipe, and a web of ferociously dark clouds ring the horizon. But below, the blue-green ocean stretches endlessly, casting a puffy, white foam along the shore as lines of waves roll in almost on top of one another. On a clear day, this spot has to be as close to heaven as you can get.

  To my left is the highway, rolling and snaking its way along the sharp, rocky ledges that rise up protectively above it, kissing the coastline in both directions. The cars below look like ants crawling along in broken lines. The crisp, swirling wind mutes the sounds of the surf, interrupted by squawking seagulls circling overhead. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, tasting the sea air.

  “I feel so free up here,” I say softly, then I gasp when firm hands grab my hips and tug me backward. My eyes shoot open, and I whirl. Cade imme
diately drops his hands.

  “Sorry; you were standing a little too close to the edge.”

  “I’m not going to jump, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  His eyes sweep the ground, and instead of denying it, Cade shrugs off his backpack, sets it on a rock and unzips it. He reaches over his head and tugs off his sweatshirt, nearly taking his T-shirt along with it. In those few, brief seconds, his lean back is exposed, and I get an eyeful of the long, swirling strands of black ink that snake down his taut skin in an ornamental design, stretching from his left shoulder blade to his waist. As he tosses the sweatshirt onto the ground beside the pack and tugs his shirt into place, I catch a glimpse of another tattoo trailing along the inside of his biceps. There are words inked on his skin, but I can’t make them out.

  I snap my eyes to the skyline before he catches me staring. “How did you find this place?”

  He pulls two bottles of water from the backpack and hands me one. “It was an accident. A couple of months ago, I was hiking to the lookout point when something in the bushes caught my eye. I took a closer look and found this place. I don’t think very many people know it’s here.”

  I guzzle the water and wipe my mouth, gazing out at the horizon. “What is this about?” I finally ask.

  Cade appears puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

  “This.” I circle my index finger in the air between us. “Why did you bring me here?”

  “Why did you agree to come?”

  “Why are you always answering my questions with other questions?” I demand.

  “Like you’re doing to me right now?”

  Oh, good grief. Cade’s impossible. I cross my arms over my chest and square my shoulders. “Look, I shared some really personal stuff with you the other night. I need to know if that was just a joke to you.”

  “Are you serious?” he asks. “In case you’ve forgotten, I shared some personal stuff with you too.”

  Oh, I remember, but I’m still not entirely sure why. Then again, there’s a lot about this guy that I don’t understand. I yank free the hair tie that’s wrapped around my wrist and quickly pull my windblown locks into a ponytail. We stare at each other like we’re each waiting for the other to make the next move. But honestly, I have no idea what that step is. Only that I don’t want to get hurt by this guy.

  “I don’t want you to kiss me again—if that’s what this is about.”

  Cade lets loose a soft laugh that’s filled with astonishment and what I think is a twinge of irritation. “Don’t flatter yourself. You did me a favor when you bailed me out after the fight. I thought maybe we could be friends, that’s all. But if you’re not cool with that, we can leave right now.”

  “No,” I say, the word shooting past my lips before I give it permission. “Forget I said anything. We can be friends. I’m sorry, it’s just—”

  Cade holds up a hand. “Forget it, Bryant. You don’t have to explain. I’m guessing you decided to listen to the gossip after all.”

  Now I’m irritated. “No, I told you, I don’t listen to that stuff. And stop calling me by my last name. I’m not some dude in the locker room. I’m a girl, and my name is Paige.” Staring at the churning ocean below, a cool raindrop pelts my cheek. I tip back my head as more drops make contact.

  Cade takes my hand and leads me back to the edge of the tree line, where the canopy offers some protection. He claims space on a large rock, motioning for me to do the same just as the sky opens up.

  I’m not sure how long we sit like that, but it’s long enough that the silence between us threatens to drive me mad. Finally, Cade asks, “Are we cool now?”

  I tap my foot and scrub a hand over the back of my neck, kneading at the tension pulsing just beneath my skin. “Yeah, we’re cool.”

  “Good,” he says with relief.

  “Thanks for bringing me up here,” I say, delayed embarrassment making it impossible for me to meet his eyes. “Even though right now you’re probably wishing you hadn’t.”

  Cade cocks his head and studies me. “Why are you always telling me what I think?”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “I’m kind of in a weird place right now. Making people uncomfortable seems to be a new talent of mine. I don’t seem to make a lot of sense these days.”

  “You’re fine,” Cade says.

  “Debatable,” I murmur to the trees over my shoulder as I slide off the rock and move to put a little more distance between us. “Okay, enough with the heavy stuff. If you were trapped on a deserted island and you were only allowed to have one item with you, what would it be?”

  “That’s easy,” Cade says. “A boat.”

  I roll my eyes. “Cheater.”

  “How is that cheating? You asked—”

  “Okay, okay.” I hold up my hand. “Chocolate chip cookies or cheesecake?”

  “Definitely cookies.”

  “Romantic comedies or horror films?”

  Cade deadpans. “Please. Horror films.”

  “Soda or coffee?”

  “Hmmm,” he says, his brow narrowing in thought. “That’s tough.”

  “It’s not an SAT question, just pick one,” I say.

  He shakes his head. “Can’t do it. Gotta have both.” I let that one slide because, truthfully, I have to agree with him.

  “My turn,” Cade says. “Dogs or cats?”

  As much as Kitty Poppins and I have bonded since my arrival in Mystic, I say, “Dogs.”

  “Football or baseball?”

  I tilt my head from side to side. “I’m gonna have to go with baseball.”

  “Planes, trains or automobiles?” Cade asks, his eyes twinkling.

  “Automobiles.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “I’ve never been on a train,” I say, then I make a sour face. “And I’m not a fan of flying.” Cade laughs, and I know he’s thinking about our debacle in baggage claim. I will never live that down. “But my mom was the queen of epic road trips.” Immediately, that familiar ache pinches me deep in my chest, just as it does each time memories of Mom resurface.

  “Tell me where you’ve been.” He seems genuinely interested.

  A warm smile melts across my lips as I think about the dozens of random destinations the Bryant girls have visited across the country since I could walk. They spill out of my memory bank, and I grab at each one, trying to hold on to it with my entire being. “We took a road trip every summer. My mom liked to visit off-the-map kinds of places. We’ve been all across the United States. Well, except Alaska and Hawaii. She didn’t like to fly either. Besides that, Wyoming and Louisiana are the only other states we never made it to.”

  “Why not there?” he asks.

  My smile falters. “I guess we just ran out of time.”

  Cade slides off the rock and moves to stand in front of me. The rain has stopped. “Tell me about your mom.”

  Everything in my body threatens to shut down, as if he just pulled the fire alarm on my soul. “What was she like?”

  Unable to look him in the eyes or grasp a cohesive sentence that consists of more than three words, I stare at the dirt and mumble, “She was amazing.”

  Cade’s tenor is soft when he asks, “What made her amazing?”

  “How much time do you have?”

  Leaning in, he whispers, “As much time as it takes.”

  Where did this guy come from? As I contemplate how best to take a chisel to his simple but ginormous question, I know that answering him will require me to share memories I’ve guarded so tightly. I’m not sure how, but I do it, and something strange begins to fill the space between us. All of a sudden, there are too many words fighting for position on my lips, and each one of them is both endearing and sharp to the touch. I haven’t talked about Mom with anyone since I was exiled to Mystic. I didn’t want to share my sacred memories—they’re the only thing I have left. Until this very moment, I hadn’t been sure anyone was worthy of them. I talk, and I share, until that suffocat
ing pang flares in my chest. I inhale sharply at the gut-wrenching sensation that I am teetering on the edge of oblivion. And if I utter just one more word—admit that there are days when it feels like someone reached inside me and scraped my heart right out of my chest with an ice cream scooper—there’s a real possibility that I might slip right over the edge and disappear.

  No one can truly understand how wonderful my mother was. How could they? The truth is, I didn’t even fully understand that until she was gone. And now it’s too late. She’s gone, and I’m alone, and there are so many things I want to say to her, but I will never have the chance. There isn’t a lonelier place than where I am at this very moment.

  Cade squeezes my hand, and I blink up at him. “I wish I could have met her.”

  I slide my hand out of his and emerge from the tree line, walking farther out onto the ledge, but stopping a safe distance from the edge. The chilly wind swirls my ponytail, and I draw my jacket tighter around myself. I can feel Cade behind me.

  “When we were on the beach the other night, you said you were only here until graduation. What did you mean by that?” he asks.

  The guy misses nothing.

  “Moving to Mystic wasn’t my choice,” I say. “For some insane reason, it’s what my mom wanted; that’s why I’m here. But I’m only staying until I turn eighteen. Then I’ll be legally free of Jay.”

  Cade steps up beside me. “Is it that bad here? With your dad, I mean?”

  I avoid his eyes and instead stare out at the churning white caps of the swirling ocean below. “Don’t call him that,” I say.

  “Where will you go when you leave? Back to California?”

  For the first time, I realize I don’t know what I will do after I leave here. I suppose I always assumed I would return to San Diego, but what’s there for me now? Aunt Faye, of course, although I can’t live with her forever. Six months ago, I’d planned on a future dancing professionally, but that’s no longer an option. Now, I’m lost in the echo of Cade’s question, immediately aware that I have no idea what my future holds.