“Carter, all I can tell you is that you need to start showing it then.” Tracey leans in on her desk. “Look, we’re accountants. I know we aren’t a rowdy bunch, but we all want to be here and do the best job we can. We think it’s an important job. Don’t you?”
“Of course.” I fidget with the neatly pressed cuff of my shirt.
“Good. We want the old Carter back. The one that jumped up and volunteered extra time. That was here late and in early. Who always had new ideas for increased productivity. If we wanted a warm body to fill a chair—well the point is—we don’t. It’s time to step it back up.”
“I understand.” Fuck. My chest tightens as I take a deep breath and ask, “Am I getting fired?”
Tracey shakes her head. “No one is getting fired today, Carter. But I am giving you a warning. We need to see improvement. We can’t have this type of conversation again. You just need to fix it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say. My face and the tips of my ears feel impossibly hot. I can’t believe this is happening. They liked me better when I was drunk.
“Alright then. Glad we had this chat. I’ll mark your file accordingly to indicate that you were disciplined and received a verbal warning.” Holy shit, I am in third grade again. “You’re free to go.”
I walk back to my desk like I’m walking the god damned Green Mile. Head down, heart racing, pride decimated. I lean over the side of my cubicle and grab my keys off of the edge of my desk.
“You headed to lunch, Carter?” Damien asks.
“Yeah,” I say. I avoid looking at him, I don’t want him to ask—
“You want to grab something together? I’m about to head out too.”
I shove my hands into my pants pockets and glance around for an exit, knowing full well it’s back the way I came but wishing one would magically appear on this end of the building—or that the carpet tiles would swallow me up so I don’t have to slink past Tracey’s office again.
“Nah man, I’ve got a few errands to run. Maybe next time.”
And for the first time in days, Shayna is the last thing on my mind because all I can think is: I need a fucking drink.
***
I eye the clock on my dashboard one last time before I decide that ten minutes is fashionably late enough to meet Nolan and walk the length of the pier to the restaurant at the very end. It’s a 1950’s inspired diner that has walk up service as well as an eat in dining room. Me, Quinn and Ben stopped by the other day for shakes and fries before heading home after our day of playing tourist. I picked this place not only because I knew I wouldn’t get lost trying to find it, but more specifically because it’s casual and loud and I knew that if Nolan had his choice, he’d pick a private colonnade ballroom.
The wind is whipping around over the water so I twist my long, blonde hair back into a bun, completing the casual look of my white linen shorts and lavender v-neck. Just because I’m dressed in beach gear and we’re meeting at a place that serves burgers almost exclusively, Nolan still stands like a gentleman at the table when he sees me push through the door.
“Shayna,” he says, waving me over as I slither past the round tables and crowds of people.
“Sit down,” I say. But instead he pulls me in for a hug. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good. To be held by strong arms that clung to me, rather than trying to push me away.
“It’s really good to see you,” he says.
“You too. California suits you,” I say, motioning to his polo shirt and cargo shorts. I really expected him to be dressed more formal. It’s the most dressed down I think I’ve ever seen him.
“I looked this place up. Figured you went casual for a reason,” he says with a wink before finally sliding into the booth while I take the chair across from him.
“Did you order?”
“Only a strawberry shake for you.”
My favorite. Of course he would remember that one detail. For the most part, all of the dates Nolan and I went on were so innocent. No drinking. No fighting.
No chemistry.
“So tell me everything, how’ve you been?”
“It hasn’t been that long since I’ve seen you,” I say.
“That’s true,” he says. “Feels like it though. I’ve missed you.”
For the months of hibernation, as I slunk into the routine of Shayna Gillan, daughter of my parents dreams, Nolan was the only standing appointment in my social calendar. Even if it was just coffee once a week and fencing on Thursdays. It was something to get me out of the house. I didn’t appreciate that for what it was until now.
“I missed you, too.” I ache to ask how my parents are but I don’t have the nerve. I’m still not convinced that they didn’t send him here to gather intel, and if they did, I need to make sure I live up to what I think they want to hear.
“What have you been up to?”
I take a long drink from the thick shake before answering. When I’ve decided I’ve waited as long as politeness—and the impending brain freeze will allow I clear my throat and give Nolan a vague rundown of my touristy activities.
“Okay, so you’re here visiting your friend Quinn,” he says after I’ve painted a beautiful, albeit slightly fabricated picture of lazy days on the beach and delicious, home cooked meals.
“Yes,” I say. “I just felt like I didn’t really take a break after school and wanted to see a few things before I…” What? Settled down? Turned into a real adult?
“It’s okay,” Nolan says. He reaches across the table and covers my hand with his. “It’s okay to not have it all figured out right now, Shayna. You’re still so young.”
“Don’t patronize me, I’m not a child,” I snap. I have no idea where the anger comes from, but it’s there, front and center.
Nolan yanks his hand off of mine. “That’ not what I meant. I just meant that I’ve been there… I am there.”
“What are you talking about?”
Nolan links his hands behind his head and leans into them. “I know how it is to be the kid of a pastor. To grow up having this set of rules and expectations laid out for you that you feel like you can never deviate from, or the kingdom of God will reign down disappointment on you.” He laughs to keep things light, but I know what he means, and it’s the truth. “To never feel like you have any choices of your own. I’ve done my time, but man—when that feeling hits you that you’re living the life someone else planned for you—it hits hard.”
A few awkward moments pass where neither of us says a word. Finally Nolan tosses his empty straw paper onto the tabletop, smiles and says, “I mean, am I right?”
“Yes.” It comes out sadder than I expect.
The waiter comes to take our order and suddenly, I regret picking such a public place. I feel like Nolan understands, and that his confessions and this conversation deserved better.
“What are you going to do then?” I ask. Like it’s that easy.
“What am I going to do? To what? Break out of it? I’ve already done it in some respects. You were my adventure,” he says with a sheepish smile.
“Excuse me?”
“I started feeling like this a couple of years ago. Probably around the time I graduated from high school. My college was already chosen for me. My dad really wanted me to go into the ministry. I at least got him to back off of that a little. But once he eased up on that topic, my mom became obsessed with finding me a match. I swear the last two years have felt like they are arranging a marriage for me.”
I almost choke on the ice in my water. I set the glass back down and blot at my mouth politely.
“Are you serious?”
Nolan laughs and shakes his head. “I mean, to an extent yeah. I hadn’t picked a date in years until… you.”
“But our parents set us up,” I say.
He shakes his head, locking eyes with me.
“I met you at that coat drive and knew I had to at least take a shot at a date with you. I went to your dad and asked if it’d be alright if I asked you out. H
e told me he’d take care of it.”
“He what?” I swallow hard. I feel like there is an entire strawberry lodged in my throat.
“He said he would take care of setting something up for you and I to spend some time together.”
“He didn’t trust me enough to make the right decision.” He thought I’d turn Nolan down, so he took the choice away from me. Unbelievable.
“Look, I know that’s not ideal, but it worked. I got a date with you—”
“You got bowling,” I laugh.
“I took it happily.”
“Wait, you said I was your adventure. What was it about me that made you want to go out with me?” I lean forward and lower my voice, remembering the rumors about me sleeping with older men, married men, anyone. Some of it was true—most of it was just lies that I refused to deny. Let them think whatever they want. I didn’t give a shit. Not until recently. “I know some of the stuff that’s gone around—”
“I wanted to go out with you because of the way you were with those kids at the coat drive. How you bent down and interacted with them. How you smiled and helped them pick the very best coat you could. How you made sure every single one of them walked away smiling.”
“Oh,” I say.
“I mean, I’m a man. Don’t get me wrong. You’re unbelievably sexy, Shayna.”
I feel fire on my cheeks. Nolan has never talked to me like that. Like he—desired me.
“That’s—thank you.”
He shrugs. “I get it though, you either feel it or you don’t. You didn’t, but you’re going to make some man very, very happy, Shay.”
Our food arrives and I pick around at the fries and burger, uninterested in food and trying to figure out the best way to approach the subject I most want to talk about.
“Listen,” I finally say. “Have you… have you talked to my parents at all since I’ve been gone?”
He lets out a low whistle and smirks. “Are you kidding? You decided to up and leave within hours of going out with me. Who do you think your mama’s first phone call was?”
“Sorry about that,” I say, cringing a little.
“No harm done. It did take me a while to calm her down and convince her that I didn’t do something awful to you to make you pack up your clothes and jump in your car, but mostly she was just worried about you. I understood that, I was worried too.”
“I’m okay,” I say.
“I see that.” He tips his chin to acknowledge it.
“Is my Mom? Okay?”
“I think so. She misses you. I imagine you miss her, too.”
“I do.”
“You could try calling her. I bet that’d mean a lot to her, Shayna.”
“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. There’s some other things going on between my parents and I that I have to sort out in my own head first.”
Nolan nods.
“When was the last time you saw them?”
Nolan’s look is a little too earnest when he says, “Last week. I was checking out in front of them at the store and we sort of got to talking. They asked if I’d heard from you. I told them I hadn’t, but that I would look you up while I was on this end for the interview.”
“That was nice of you,” I say. It’s not nearly enough info. I want more. I want to know what my mom’s eyes looked like when they talked. Did she fiddle with her bracelets like she does when she’s nervous? Did Dad hold an impromptu prayer session in the middle of the checkout line like he’s prone to doing?
“But now that I see that you’re just fine, I can report back to them.” he winks. “Though I don’t know how thorough my report will be, you haven’t given me a whole lot to go on.”
His question is leading. I’m not ready to give in.
“How was it?” I ask, changing the subject. “The interview.”
Nolan rolls his neck like the thought of it is bringing back stress.
“It was good. My father is furious, so that’s always a plus, but I think I’ve got a real shot at it.”
“And London, wow. I just came a few states over. You’re talking about jumping over oceans. I think you win.” I laugh, and it feels good.
“Maybe,” he says. His eyes fill with a little regret. “Maybe when you lose something you really want, you win other things. Maybe it’s all about balance, you know?”
I do.
“I’m sorry about how things were left with us, Nolan. I wasn’t in the greatest place.”
“It’s fine, Shay, no worries.”
“No, I mean it. I feel badly about how I led you to believe… I led you on, Nolan. There’s no way around what it was.”
“I believed what I wanted to. There was never any false hope on your end. I wanted to believe that if we spent enough time together, things would change. That someday I’d see that spark in your eye when you looked at me.” Nolan laughs a little, but it’s tinged with sadness. “It’s my fault for being presumptuous. And stubborn. You hold no blame here.”
“That’s very kind of you to say. I’m so glad that you made it out here.”
We make small talk the rest of the meal until we’ve overstayed our welcome in the crowded restaurant.
“I’d better get going,” I say. “I promised Quinn I’d check out this new market downtown later on. I’m not sure what time she had in mind, so…”
“I understand,” Nolan says. He tosses a tip down on the table and stands behind me, placing his hand protectively on the small of my back as we weave through the restaurant and out onto the pier.
The sun is going down and the temperature is dropping quickly. I can’t help but shiver. I stop walking to say goodbye and Nolan pulls me in closer to him, rubbing his palms up and down my arms to warm me up.
“Didn’t realize we’d be here so long or I would’ve brought a sweater,” I say. Someday I’ll learn to do that here. If I end up staying…
“Sorry to keep you.”
I shake my head and say, “No, I’m so glad you called. You didn’t keep me at all.”
“Well, if the interview went well, you may see a little more of me. Second interviews will be conducted in LA as well.”
“That’s fantastic news!” I say.
“So you’ll be around? Here I mean? You’re staying for a while.”
I have no idea. I came out here to figure out what would make Shayna happy and I’ve done next to none of that.
“I have something for you,” Nolan says. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small box. “When I said inside that I hadn’t seen your mom in a couple of weeks, that wasn’t the truth. She came by my apartment three days ago and gave me this to give to you.”
I take the white box from him, running my finger over the soft ribbon that holds it closed.
“She said your birthday is coming up and she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to get this to you otherwise.”
I open my mouth to speak but Nolan cuts me off.
“That’s not why I called you though! I wanted to see you, too.”
“Thank you,” is all I can say.
“Anything for you, Shayna.”
I shake the box gently and say, “Thank you for this. And for understanding. And for being the friend that I don’t really deserve.”
This time, his face doesn’t wrinkle when I say friend.
“I hope to see you again, Shayna. Take care.”
“Hey, Nolan?” I call, just as he’s about to turn away. “So I was your adventure, huh”
“For then.” He shrugs. “There’ll be others.”
I press my palms to each side of his face and pull his mouth to mine. I kiss him. I kiss him like he always deserved, but I never let myself. I kiss him to let him know how much him he means to me. I kiss him with the tiniest, selfish hope that I’ll feel something for him that I never did before.
“There’s something to carry with you till your next adventure. Please keep in touch, Nolan.”
“Of course,” he says, trying to regain his pr
oper composure. “That’s what friends do.”
Friend no longer seemed like a dirty word. Nolan and I had come to a place of understanding. A place of true friendship.
I walk back to my car, and for the first time all afternoon, I let myself think about Carter.
Part of me feels guilty that I tucked thoughts of him away to go to lunch with Nolan, even if it doesn’t make sense. But I can’t keep my mind locked for long. It makes me feel like maybe I’m tied to him deeper than I ever thought. That maybe having a life without him in it isn’t something I can do—or even want to try to do.
He’s been in my life in some capacity for almost a year now—I’ve told him some of the most personal things under the security of night. Confessions and admissions that felt safe because they were cloaked in darkness. And now that we’re here—in the same place, it’s like the darkness was a blanket that’s been pulled off of us. We’re acutely aware of all of the flaws we hid for so long, trying to be the person that we thought the other needed, but all the while, hiding our true selves.
We can see everything clearly and it’s scary as hell for the both of us.
But maybe that’s okay.
Once I find my car, I sit for a moment, wondering what my Mom could have sent with Nolan, but also, a little apprehensive about finding out. What if it’s the world’s tiniest hate mail crammed inside of this delicate box? What do I do with it if it’s an impersonal gift, like a keychain—proving how far the distance really is between me and my parents now.
I open my glove box and shut it inside, deciding that I’ll open it tomorrow, or another day that I don’t feel so conflicted. As I’m slamming the glove compartment shut, I see a familiar face.
Carter.
Carter sitting on the curb… outside of a bar.
***
I feel like I’ve been awake for days. Maybe I have.
Everything since I left Tracey’s office has been a complete blur.
I’ve been sitting on this damn curb for thirty minutes trying to decide if I should go in and get a drink or not. God knows I want one. Or eight. And what the hell does it matter if I do? Clearly I did my job better. According to my boss, I had more to show for my work day when I came in buzzed or hung over. Dream big, right?
Risk the Fall Page 47