Risk the Fall

by Steph Campbell

  Quinn is completely engrossed in stacking a pack of Starbursts into a tower, and then knocking it down. Over and over again.

  She carefully unwraps a pink Starburst, pops the candy in to her mouth, and then refolds the wrapper into the perfect square it had just been in.

  “Want one?” she asks me. The silence is finally broken, and that’s all I get?

  “No thanks. Do you want me to get you something real to eat?” She shakes her head.

  Sydney and Grant are exchanging uncomfortable glances as they walk toward our table. I like both of them, but I really wish they’d stay away today. I need to talk to Quinn and smooth things over.

  “Are we interrupting something?” Sydney asks politely. She hesitates before sitting down in the chair Grant has pulled out for her.

  “Nope, not at all,” Quinn says. Her voice changes, suddenly she has perked up. Ah, back to the cheerful pretense. She slides all of the red Starbursts across the table towards Sydney.

  Sydney smiles. “Thanks.”

  “So, what are you two up to this weekend?” Quinn asks Grant and Sydney.

  “Um, I don’t think we have any plans.” Sydney glances at Grant for confirmation.

  “My parents are having a retirement party for one of Dad’s partners at the house on Sunday. You guys should come by. Save me from all the old folk,” Quinn says, smiling.

  “Yeah, that sounds good,” Grant says.

  Quinn finally looks at me and smiles. She puts her hand on my knee. I feel like I can breathe again.

  “Can we go talk?” I lean in and ask quietly. She nods.

  “Don’t forget your bathing suits!” Quinn says enthusiastically to Grant and Sydney as we get up from the table. They smile and nod, but they’d be fools if they couldn’t tell that something was up.

  “What’s the matter?” she asks innocently as we walk out of the dining room and to the main school doors.

  “Can we go to my car?”

  Quinn giggles. It’s a little too high-pitched to be genuine, a little too showy, even for her. “Oh, sounds super serious!”

  We’ve reached my car and I hesitate, staring at her momentarily to try to figure her out. Was it not perfectly clear that she was upset with me a minute ago? I open the passenger door for her and she slides in. As soon as I get in, I start the car and turn the air conditioner to the Antarctic setting. I’m not sure I will ever get used to the relentless heat and humidity of Atlanta. I can feel my shirt has already stuck to my back just from being outside for a short time.

  “So, what’s up?” Quinn asks me.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  “Because…?” Her eyes dart around, and she bites her bottom lip. She knows exactly why.

  I exhale loudly. I don’t mean to sound annoyed, but I don’t understand why she has to make communicating so damn difficult.

  “Because you haven’t spoken to me all day, and after what happened yesterday—”

  Quinn cuts me off with her lips. Her mouth is warm and soft and tastes like strawberries. It starts off like most of our kisses. She laces her fingers into the back of my hair and tugs gently. I cup her gorgeous face in my hands. But, then the kiss changes. It’s needful, like she’s clutching on to me for security—almost as if she’s in a panic. Her mouth continues to press against mine intensely and my body is responding to her touch in ways that I can’t control. I kiss her throat, and she leans her head back to encourage me. She wants more, and I want to give it to her. All of it. Anything she wants. Both of our breathing is becoming heavier and more desperate.

  The bell telling us to go to class has already rung, and crowds of students are walking past my car. I force myself to pull away from her. After all the waiting, the school parking lot is not the place to give in to how badly I want her. Still, I realize how much I need to be close to her and I know that I don’t want to wait much longer.

  I roll my forehead along hers and stare into her dark eyes. She still looks so vulnerable, like she might cry.

  “What’s really going on, Quinn?” I say into her ear.

  She folds her hands in her lap and starts to pick at the teal polish.

  “You remember what you said at my house the other night?”

  “Is that what this is about?”

  She gives the smallest of nods.

  “I can’t say that I’m sorry, because, well, I’m not. But I am sorry if it upset you,” I say.

  She looks up from under her long brown hair.

  “Did you mean it?”

  I tuck a chestnut lock behind her ear. “Of course I did.”

  She sighs, and her mouth forms a soft, content smile.

  And that right there is all I need. I would follow her anywhere as long as she looked at me like that.

  When I get to Quinn’s house that afternoon, I stop at the gate to watch her for a minute. She’s wearing a small beige bikini top, and barely there white skirt, and I can’t believe this ridiculously gorgeous girl is mine to love.

  Her face lights up when she sees me. Her smile stretches up to her eyes, and when I get close enough, she jumps up into my arms. I run my hands up her bare back, and twist my fingers through the string that ties her bathing suit top around her neck. Her skin is so hot and so bare – and so incredibly close to mine – that I can hardly stand it.

  “I’m glad you came,” she says. She runs her nails on my arm, softly scratching a line up and down my skin. I literally have to talk myself out of taking her right here and now.

  “Of course I came.” God she feels amazing. “You look so damn hot.” I whisper in her ear.

  She grins as she leads me over to the massive stainless-steel barbeque and starts flipping meat and vegetables.

  “Wait, you grill, too?” I ask.

  “Uh, yeah,” she answers. “Obviously. Why? Is that weird?” With the lid open, the grill is taller than she is. It blows my mind that this dainty little woman is in charge of barbequing for all fifty guests.

  “No, I guess not. I’ve just always thought that was like, I don’t know—”

  She raises her eyebrow. “A man’s job?”

  I nod with a wry smile.

  She smacks my arm and laughs. “Sexist much?”

  “I guess so, sorry,” I laugh.

  She shakes her head, pretending to be annoyed.

  “Steak, chicken or burger?” she asks.

  “One second, let me just go and say hello to your parents,” I say.

  I’ve only met them once over the summer, and if I’m honest, I’m scared shitless of them. Her dad has an overbearing presence that screams “controlling asshole” and everything about her mom just makes me sad. From her glassed over eyes, to the perma-frown she has frozen on her face. Still, I know how to play nice without having to go full on Eddie Haskell.

  Quinn groans and motions to the grill. “But I’m cooking.”

  “Come on, you know I have to. It’ll just take a minute to thank your parents for inviting me.” I take her hand and lead her in their direction.

  We’re only a few steps away from her mom and dad when someone else approaches them. Some preppy guy with a smug-ass look on his face. I feel Quinn’s hand tense up under mine.

  “What is it?”

  She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

  It’s usually nothing with her. I wish to God she would open up to me. I narrow my eyes at her. It’s a silent plea to just once tell me what is on her mind. I don’t want her to shut me out, not today when I’m so ready to open up and be with her.

  “Fine, that guy right there,” she motions to the uptight looking douche. I nod. “That is Mark.” Her voice has an uncomfortable edge to it.

  “Oh…” I say. I visualize giving him a roundhouse kick to the gut. “I’ll be nice.” I smile at her trying to soothe her nerves. Her forehead crinkles with apprehension, so I kiss the hand I’m still holding.

  “Mom, Dad, you remember Ben, right?” Quinn says as we walk up. I shake her dad’s ha
nd. Quinn obviously gets her looks from her mom. Her dad is tall and lean, and a little bit pasty. Quinn’s younger brother, Mason, looks like he’s built more like her dad. Quinn has the same petite, yet muscular build of her mom, the same gorgeous olive skin, and her matching dark hair and eyes.

  Her mom gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Good to see you, Ben” she says.

  I turn to Mark, who I tower over. I’m a good seven or eight inches taller than him, and I’m digging that.

  “I’m Ben,” I say, extending my hand.

  “Mark.” He says shaking my hand and smiling. Something about his smile isn’t right—it’s beyond arrogant and makes me hate him an irrational amount. His grip is loose, and the expression on his face makes me think he would be better selling used cars than doing audits. Quinn was right, he looks like an ass. I can’t say I mind when she drags me off before Mark and I can have an actual conversation.

  “You’re right, he’s a tool,” I say to her. “And why is his shirt tucked in?” She laughs and then kisses me.

  “Want to go for a swim?”

  “Hey Quinny, we’re gonna take off,” Sydney says.

  “Okay wait, Syd, I have that bag you wanted to borrow inside. Let me grab it for you before you leave,” Quinn says.

  She pulls herself out of the pool and wraps a towel around her tiny waist.

  “I’ll be right back,” she says, leaning over the edge of the pool to kiss me. She does it without looking around to see who is watching, or worrying that her parents won’t approve. I need to take the same approach with my mom when it comes to Quinn. No more waiting for or caring about her approval.

  Sydney follows her inside the house, leaving me with Grant who’s sitting by the side of the pool.

  “So man, Syd was telling me you play bass, right?” Grant says to me.

  “Yeah, do you play?” I ask.

  Grant and I probably would have been friends even if it weren’t for Quinn and Sydney being best friends. He is a pretty decent guy.

  “I play guitar, we should get together some time,” he says.

  “Sure, dude, that’d be cool. Whenever, just let me know.”

  “All set?” Sydney asks coming out of the house. Grant takes the large duffel bag to carry for her.

  “Hey, I’ll see you guys later,” I say. I jump out of the pool and glance around the deck and yard, I don’t see Quinn so I pull on a t-shirt and head toward the house.

  When I step into the cool interior, I can hear Quinn’s voice inside the kitchen, but I wait in the foyer for her to finish talking. I want to be alone with her.

  “What?” she deadpans sounding upset and more than a little peeved.

  “I just came in to get something to drink, the cooler outside is empty,” a male voice answers.

  “Whatever just take what you want and go,” she says.

  I start to round the corner. I figure the guy will get something to drink and be on his way. And then I can tell her. I can tell her how badly I want her. I love her. I need her.

  But once I’m in the doorway, I freeze.

  “I already got what I wanted,” Mark says. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her in to him in such an intimate way that it makes me instantly feel sick.

  My throat goes dry. My head is pounding all of a sudden.

  “Are you completely insane?” she yells. “Get off of me.” She shoves him away, but he just stands there, smirking back at her.

  I wish I could move because I want to fucking pummel him. My hands form involuntary fists, clenching and unclenching. My jaw feels locked in place. I don’t think I have ever been so angry in my entire life. But still, part of me can’t process what I’m seeing and hearing.

  “C’mon, kitten,” He reaches for Quinn again, but she moves across the room away from him.

  “My parents are right outside! The other night, you and me—that was just a huge mistake.” She stutters through her words. “Trust me, it will never happen again. Ever!”

  She’s shaking. My instinct is to go to her and hold her. But I’m still frozen.

  “You enjoyed it, though, didn’t you?” Mark says. “Admit it. I mean, you didn’t look like you were having a bad time to me.”

  “Screwing with my life may be hysterical for you, Mark, but I’m in love with Ben. You seriously need to stay away from me.”

  Mark continues to laugh casually. He grabs a beer and walks out through the open sliding glass doors towards the deck. Quinn is left standing there alone. She looks unsteady, like she may cry, or hyperventilate, or even pass out. She props her body against the counter as if she’s holding herself up. Water drips from her thick hair and pools on the tile around her feet.

  And then, just as her features start to relax, her shoulders drop and she heaves herself off of the counter, she looks up— and sees me standing there.

  I turn on my heels and stride towards the door. I’m burning with anger and my vision is so blurred with shock that I can barely see anything as I make my way to my car. I hear Quinn calling me, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop.

  Fuck! Shit! Bloody Hell! Ben wasn’t supposed to see that. Or hear that. He wasn’t supposed to know. He wasn’t supposed to have that red, shocked look on his face. He wasn’t supposed to be standing there looking like the wind just got knocked out of him. Fuck!

  As soon as Ben’s eyes meet mine, he turns and hauls ass away from me. I call after him, I know he can hear me, but he just keeps moving.

  “Ben, please stop,” I yell after him. He fumbles with his keys at his car door. I know that I literally have only got a second before he drives off and never looks back. “Please!”

  “For what?” He turns to look at me. His face is wild with rage. His features are transformed and distorted into something I don’t recognize.

  “Were you even going to tell me?” he yells.

  No.

  I can’t answer that, he already knows the answer, anyway. He finally finds the right key in his shaking hand and unlocks the car door.

  “Wait,” I beg. “Please don’t leave.”

  Ben stares up at the sky. At nothing. At everything. Finally, he hesitates, exhales and drops his eyes to meet mine. It is painful to look at him like this. His mouth is pursed into a cruel smile, his eyebrows arched up his forehead.

  “Did you fuck him?” he asks.

  I’m taken aback by his tone and his choice of words. Even though both are justified, it’s still shocking to hear him talk to me like this.

  “You did, didn’t you?” he says.

  I want him to beg me not to answer that, but I know he won’t. I give the smallest of nods. There’s no point in trying to deny it. He deserves to know what a piece of shit I am. That his mother was right, he should be with someone better than me.

  “You want to know why I came looking for you just now?” he rubs his hand along his jaw. He won’t look at me. I don’t blame him. “I came to tell you that I want you. To tell you that I didn’t want to wait another day to make love to you. Pretty fucking ironic, right?” Ben laughs, not a genuine, hearty laugh. A laugh that says I’m laughing because that is all I can do not to cry. I’m laughing so that I don’t fall on the ground right here. “So, you found someone else to be your crutch, is that it?” he asks.

  “That’s not what you are to me. It’s not like that. At all. God, I’m such an idiot…”

  “Yeah, you are. How could you do this? I’m fucking in love with you, and…” He lets his voice trail off. His words sting and suffocate me like I’m trapped inside a beehive with a thousand angry bees. “So, the fact that you had a boyfriend didn’t bother you, and the age difference obviously didn’t either. Jesus, Quinn, it’s just…it’s sick…”

  I flinch. “We were never…” I stare at my perfect Java Mauve-A polished nails rather than look at him. I want to rip them off one by one. Maybe the lack of fingernails would dull the pain in my heart right now. “You and I, we were never like, officially together, though.” I say it,
but I know it’s not true.

  There’s nothing I want nothing more than to be his girlfriend. Even though I know this, it’s the only defense I can come up. My insides feel like they are crumbling like a towering JENGA game. I lose.

  That’s when I literally see him break. It’s in his eyes and the look of him deflating right in front of me shoots a deep pain straight through me.

  He nods once. “Good to know.”

  And then, he’s gone.

  You know what feels really fucking awesome? Loving someone so much that it’s all consuming. Telling that person you love them, even though they refuse to say it back. And then finally hearing them say that they do love you, but to someone else. To someone they have slept with. Someone that isn’t you.

  I want to forget I heard Quinn say those three words. I want to dissolve the images I have in my head of her with him.

  I think I’m going to throw up.

  I want to crack open my head and take out all of the mush. All of the crap I bring on myself and the nonsense inflicted on me by other people.

  I want to forget that my dad is having an affair.

  I want to deny my mom is a nut job.

  I want to forget that I ever met Mark, that I ever touched him or let him touch me.

  I want to forget that I totally fucked up the best thing I had ever had in my life.

  I feel the urge to vomit coming on.

  There are few things I can think of that are worse than letting my mom know what happened between Quinn and me. I swear to god if I have to hear, “I told you so” I will officially lose my shit. I’ve managed to stay in my room and not go and track Mark down and beat the ever-living-shit out of him thus far, but getting into it with my mom will almost certainly push me over the edge. Hearing I told you so, won’t help get this fist out of my gut. I feel like I haven’t been able to taken a full breath since Sunday.