Risk the Fall
Page 3
“I’m sorry. That must be hard for you,” I say.
He shrugs his shoulders. “Not really, I’m used to it. Plus, Jules is basically family and keeps things running…”
“Well, that’s good,” I say, not really sure what else to add.
“So, what was up with the cameras filming you at lunch today?” he asks.
“Oh, that? You probably think I’m a total freak show. They were doing some test shots for this documentary I’m a part of.”
“A documentary? Really? That sounds cool.”
“Yeah, it’s sort of following young, Olympic bound athletes. Kind of like a reality show, but it’s only one program. They want to see our real lives. Like I have anything interesting to show…” I let my voice trail off.
“I’m sure you’re fascinating.” His dark green eyes don’t leave mine as he talks and I can’t help but brush my hand insecurely across my cheeks to ensure that I don’t have anything on my face.
“Well, what about this chart?” I say, breaking his stare.
Grant and I are able to get a ton done on the project. All the while, holding a steady conversation. He’s actually really easy to talk to. Not like when I first met Trevor and was so anxious around him that I couldn’t hold a conversation. Something about Grant is warm. Comfortable. At school, I always feel like the girls, apart from Tessa and Quinn, avoid me. Like they’re waiting for me to mess up so that they can swoop in on Trevor. Or that the teachers were waiting for me to crack under the pressure of school and gym and the loss of my mom. But with Grant, it’s just …easy. It’s not like he expects anything from me, apart from what I am.
I can’t stifle the deep yawn, just as the clock above the stove chimes eight, and I realize how long we’ve been working.
“Would you mind if we finished this up another day?” I ask.
“I see, trying to drop the ball, huh?” Grant says with a grin.
“No, nothing like that, I’m just exhausted.”
“I’m kidding, Sydney. How about Monday. We could meet here after your workout again?”
“Sounds good.” I grab my purse and head for the front door.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Grant says, following me.
“You really don’t have to do that, it’s right on your drive,” I laugh. “And this isn’t exactly a dangerous neighborhood.”
“I don’t mind.” He shrugs.
We reach the door and Grant pulls it open for me, waiting for me to go ahead before following me down the steps. He waits until I’m in the car, with the ignition running before turning around and walks back to the gargantuan house with his hands in his jeans pockets. I know he said it doesn’t bother him to be alone, but at that moment, I can’t help but feel bad leaving him.
Even though it’s Saturday, I still end up rushing around to get out the door to pick up Quinn and Tessa for our shopping trip.
I’d already been to the gym and back home to change. I really should have had plenty of time, but I find myself moving slowly. Dad is busy working in his office when I’m finally set to leave.
“See ya, Dad,” I say, ducking my head into the doorway.
He barely glances up. Only pausing from his phone call for a split second to slide his AMEX to the edge of his drafting table and to tell me to be careful.
Maisy is on the sofa still in her pajamas, shoveling colorful cereal into her mouth and watching some ridiculous Guido-filled rerun on MTV.
“Morning, Maisy,” I say. I playfully flick her in the back of the head. “It’s gorgeous out today. I’m headed to the mall with Tess and Quinn, you want to come?”
She makes some sort of response that mostly sounds like a growl, and cereal drops out of her mouth back into her bowl. Cheerful as usual.
I’m celebrating the beautiful weather and an afternoon off by wearing a light baby blue sundress and white flip flops. I don’t often wear shorts or dresses that show my legs. They’re too freakishly toned to be exposed outside of the gym. Sometimes I wish I had long, slender legs like Maisy or the other girls at school. But my legs make me more powerful in gym and a lot of work has gone into getting those muscles.
I head out the house and towards my car. Pulling out into the road I start the route to Quinn’s that’s become like second nature to me. I pull up to her house, a traditional, large red brick home that screams perfect family from the outside, and send her a quick text message to let her know I’m here. Within a few seconds, both she and Tessa are bounding down the driveway.
“So, how was Grant?” Quinn asks before she even slides all the way into the passenger seat.
“Uh, good I guess. We’re just working on a project, Quinn. Give it a rest,” I say.
She smirks and starts scrolling through my iPod for something to listen to.
“Sure. But you have to admit, he is, like, beyond beautiful,” she says.
“I’m not admitting anything.”
Now, she’s getting on my nerves.
“Oh, leave her alone, Quinn. You know she can’t see anyone outside of Trevor,” Tessa chimes in from the backseat.
“Whatever. You just wait till you see him, Tess. You. Will. Die,” Quinn trills.
Thankfully, she finally settles on a song and turns the stereo up way too loud to be able to carry on a conversation.
The crowds at the mall always make me nervous. I’m too short to see around or above anyone. Quinn pulls both Tess and I into the first store we come to and starts flipping through racks of dresses. Always the daring one, she quickly pulls out a floor length gown with heavy beading around the waist. The dress is mostly bright green and the material has the pattern of a peacock feather. The skirt of the gown is pleated chiffon and the criss-cross straps are heavily embellished.
I smirk. I wrongly assume she’s joking.
“What? I’d totes wear this. It’s awesome,” Quinn says.
Tessa’s taste is more similar to mine, meaning she’s plain. We gravitate to basic black and pastels. Tess has what I consider to be the perfect shape. She used to be a little heavy, but now, she’s all curves. She isn’t lean like Quinn, or stumpy like me, she’s just average. Average height. Average size. Sometimes, I wish I could be average anything. When Tess comes out of the dressing room with a baby blue gown with a plunging neckline and a Grecian look to it, I find myself fighting a moment of jealousy.
“It looks fabulous, Tess,” I say. It really does. And it shows off her ample chest. Another drawback to being an elite gymnast – nothing going on up top.
“Yep, that’s the one,” Quinn agrees.
I look over and Quinn’s wearing the flowing peacock dress. I have to give it to her, it isn’t for me, but with her olive skin she looks great in it.
“Well?” Quinn asks.
“Perfect,” Tess and I say together. Quinn jumps up and down, clapping enthusiastically.
They both head back into the changing rooms before taking the dresses to the cashier. Shopping has never been that easy for me. Everything I buy has to be altered to fit my small frame, and it makes trying things on difficult because it’s hard to imagine what it will look like when it’s “fixed.” I feel guilty, but I drag Quinn and Tess to store after store searching for something that doesn’t look ridiculous on me.
“You mind if we stop in here?” Tessa asks as we walk from the store out into the mall again. I glance up at the sign above the shop we’re outside. It’s a lingerie shop.
“Tess, you dirty, dirty girl,” Quinn jokes.
“Shut up, Quinn. I need something to wear under this dress. Did you see the crazy neckline?” Tess says.
Quinn rolls her eyes and marches inside.
I find a bench near the fitting rooms to rest while I wait for the girls to browse. My neck aches. My head hurts. Actually, everything sort of hurts.
“Isn’t this cute?” Quinn says, walking toward me with a tiny, black satin something or other.
“Uh, I guess? What’s the occasion?” I ask.
 
; “Not for me, for you!” she says.
I laugh and feel my prudish nerves kick in.
“Not exactly my thing, Quinn.” I say. She knows good and well that I would never be caught dead in something like that. I sleep in pajama pants and a tank top, every single night.
Quinn clucks her tongue. “For the lake house.”
“Oh!” The blush is definitely in full force now. “I don’t think so. That’s not me. Trevor knows that.”
“Fine, but it’s only your first time once,” she says. “And it’s not his, so…” She turns and crams the flimsy garment on to a full rack. She’s right. It’s going to be my first time. And I do want everything to be perfect. But there’s no way I’m going to be any less nervous about everything if I’m strutting around in a black negligee. Even if it might be a welcome change for Trevor to see.
I wipe my nervous, sweaty palms on my dress. It’s not like I’m going to be doing anything I don’t want to do. Trevor and I have been together for a long time, and he hasn’t forced the issue, but I’m clueless about what to expect. Up until now, we’d only had some heated make-out sessions. He’s always been patient with me, but he’s about to graduate, and go away to college, and I know I want one of our last night’s together to be the biggest of all.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Tessa says, stepping out of the dressing room.
“Let’s just call it a day, guys, I’m beat and we’ve been everywhere,” I say after Tess has pays and we’ve left the store.
As the words are leaving my mouth, I see it.
The strapless, electric blue mini-dress that’s meant for me in the window. The bubble hem is perfect for my height, and the frosted blue sequins that completely cover the dress are one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Best of all, it doesn’t even need to be altered.
The shopping trip must have gotten to me more than I’d originally thought. We didn’t get in late, it was barely dark, but I immediately went upstairs and went to bed. I slept hard, all night long. Nightmare free.
I probably would have slept all day if I hadn’t felt something lightly breezing across my face.
I try to open my eyes, but am blinded by the sunlight streaming in. Sunlight? I quickly shoot up in bed.
How long have I been sleeping?
What day is it?
Did I miss gym?
I hear a deep chuckle and turn to see Trevor sitting next to me on my bed.
“What in the world?” I ask. I blink repeatedly to ensure that I’m really awake.
“Good morning to you, too, Sleeping Beauty,” he says. It’s more than a little strange to see him in my room. He’s only made it past my dad and up here a couple of times.
“What time is it?” I grumble.
I love Trevor, but I have rules about talking when I first wake up. Like waiting an hour to swim after eating, I appreciate if no one speaks to me for the first thirty minutes that I’m awake.
“A little past noon,” he says. “Your dad let me in on his way out. He’s taking Maisy to Savannah for the day.”
Nice. She told me she had plans this weekend, but didn’t mention they were with Dad. Nice of her to invite me.. Whatever.
“Oh,” I say. “How long have you been here?”
He shrugs.
“Not long. A couple of hours. You were sleeping really hard,” he says. He kisses me on the tip of my nose.
“You really should have woken me,” I say, only half meaning it. Sunday is the only day that I don’t have gym. I assume that’s why Dad didn’t wake me before he left. No one ever wakes me for anything on my one day off. Still, I feel guilty that Trevor has been sitting here waiting for me to wake up for hours. I stretch as far as I can in my bed. I feel my joints pop and for some reason, I feel unusually sore. I can’t think of anything I did at gym this week to warrant the extra stiffness.
“Okay,” I say, struggling to sit up. “I’m up, I’ll get dressed, what do you want to do today?”
“Well,” Trevor says, pushing me back down lightly with his index finger. “I think that’s a bad idea.” His smile is coy.
“What is?”
“You getting dressed,” he says and reaches over to pull me in closer. His lips are hot on mine, and I love it, but no matter how good it feels, I can’t let the thoughts of dental hygiene evaporate.
“Wait,” I finally manage to pull away and gasp. “I need to brush my teeth, I’m disgusting.”
“No you don’t,” he says, pulling me back toward him. God he smells good.
“Yeah, yeah I do. And besides, my dad could walk in any minute. We can’t do this right now.” I break free from his hold and stand up.
“He’s hours away, Syd,” Trevor says with a confident smile. “Now, why don’t you come back to bed?” He reaches over and runs his hand up my thigh and I relent, letting him pull me back down on top of him. I’m stronger than most guys I know, but not Trevor. The way he kisses me is like physical proof that he wants nothing more than to be with me. It makes me tingle. It makes me unaware of everything going on apart from Trevor and me. Until his hand gently starts fumbling with the tie on my pajama pants, attempting to loosen them. I playfully swat his hand away and jump back up off of the bed.
“Oh come on, Syd,” he groans. “You’re killing me.”
“You’ll survive a little longer,” I say with a light laugh. “I told you, we can’t do this right now.”
“Why?” he asks.
“The lake house.”
“What difference does it make if it’s here now or after prom?”
Good point.
But I’m just not ready at this exact moment. I still haven’t even brushed my teeth. I want my first time to be special. Not spur of the moment because we happened to be alone. Plus, I need a little more time to get a handle on my nerves. I know I can’t put him off much longer, though.
“Please. Please just try to be patient with me a little longer,” I say.
“I’ve been really patient, Syd. You have to admit that. I just want to be with you. I don’t see what the big deal it. Let me make love to you.” His voice transforms into the most velvety smooth sound I’ve ever heard. His words tug at my heart, and my resolve.
I’m still standing beside the bed, staring down at him. His hand catches mine.
I take in his long, toned body. His thick blond hair that makes him look like he should be in a surfing magazine. That ridiculously handsome face. Any girl in the world would be lucky to have him. And somehow, he wants me. Just me.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly “Please just give me a little more time.” I push my lower lip out into the pouty way I know he can’t resist and he lets out a loud sigh of concession and pulls himself upright.
“Fine,” he says. He stands behind me and presses his lips to the back of my neck. “Can’t blame me for trying, though.”
“I love you,” I whisper.
“Love you, too, Syd.”
When I wake up Monday morning, I feel like death. My head is pounding and the soreness from Sunday has only intensified. No good. My mom had always said that she wasn’t “allowed” to get sick. That’s how I feel. I don’t have time to be sick.
The cameras don’t miss a single hideous second of me stumbling through my morning workout. They capture each and every fall, missed dismount and ugly toe point. I thought this show would be easy. That it would capture all of the good points, but right now, it feels like I’m being set up to fail. Finally, Sam takes pity on me and lets me leave thirty minutes early. As soon as I get home, I take a long, hot shower, and while the steam helps to clear the crud out of my head, it doesn’t touch the achiness I feel all over my body. I would give anything to go back to bed, but that’s not in the cards. Before I leave for school, I fumble through the medicine cabinet until I find a package of cold medicine and shove it into my backpack.
Trevor is waiting for me in our usual spot. As soon as he sees me, he starts in my direction and I’m immediately thankful for tha
t small gesture so I don’t have to trudge through the crowded quad. His face is full of confusion, and as I glance down, I quickly realize why. My sweats and hooded sweatshirt, combined with the messy bun on top of my head don’t scream ‘put together,’ like my normal appearance.
“Nice of you to dress up, Syd,” he says while pushing some stray hairs out of my eyes that I’d been too lazy to reach up and do for myself. “Jesus, you’re burning up.”
“I know,” I sniffle. “I’m just waiting for this medicine to kick in. I’ll be okay.”
“Why don’t you just go home? You can miss one day of school. The world won’t end.” He’s right. One day won’t kill me. Or anyone else for that matter. But it’s just not in me to admit defeat and let a stupid case of the flu take over my day. If I’m going to take a day off, I want to be doing something fun. Not lying at home alone, sipping chicken broth.
“I’m really okay. Please don’t make this a big deal.”
“Text me if you need me to take you home early,” he says as I walk into my first period class.
Grant is already seated when I slump into the chair next to him.
“Morning, Sydney,” he says cheerfully. I cringe. He’s too cheerful for the way I feel today.
“Morning,” I grumble. I flop my head on to the table with a slight groan and wait for class to start. I can feel the pounding of my pulse in between my eyes. Miserable isn’t even close to the word that describes how I feel.
“You don’t look so hot,” Grant says. “No offense,” he quickly adds.
I halfway sit up. It’s all I can manage.
“I’m good. Just a little cold.”
“Why don’t we reschedule you coming over tonight?”
“I’ll be fine by then. Unless you’d rather me not come by and risk spreading my germs.” I laugh. And then sneeze.
He narrows his eyes in a look of contemplation.
“If you’re up for it, I’d love to have you,” he says.
I pull up to Grant’s house earlier than planned. Sam had all but kicked me out of the gym. The camera guy laughed out loud when Sam told me that my “snotting” all over the equipment didn’t qualify as a workout. Strangely, I expected them to follow me to Grant’s, and that I’d have to explain why they needed to watch us make a silly chart to him. But once I told them where I was headed, they backed off. Weird.