by Ginger Scott
Slow is good, so I’ve learned.
In the meantime, I’m happy to be a part of Cass and Ty moving in together. I think that’s the only reason my parents didn’t freak out like they could have—because they knew there would be four of us living together—Rowe and me around constantly to keep Ty and Cass from having too much time alone.
Not that Rowe will be around much, either.
She was too nervous to ask her parents about moving in with Nate next year. So instead, he hooked up with one of his teammates, Cash. Their apartment is only a building away. I’m not sure how that makes a difference, and I’m pretty sure her parents are aware of how much time she’ll be spending with Nate, too, but if it makes her feel more innocent, whatever.
I’m actually excited to be her roommate. Maybe next year, I’ll get things right.
Nate won’t be eligible again for the draft until he’s twenty-one, but he impressed a lot of people over the spring—especially a group of scouts from the Houston Astros who spent a lot of time in the McConnell coaching suites.
I like the idea of him ending up in Houston. But maybe I’m partial.
I’m carrying the last box, and when Houston takes it from me to place in the back of his trunk, I hesitate a little on letting go. He tilts his head to the side, catching my attention, and I shake my head and smile, finally letting him take over lifting my things.
“Sorry, I was lost a little there,” I say.
He slides the box into the only space remaining, then closes his trunk before walking back up the curb to me.
“You? Lost? Never,” he teases. I laugh with him, but stop when the words hit me differently.
“No, I was pretty lost,” I say, my face more serious, his reflecting nothing but love for me. I reach my hand up to touch his cheek, catching the vision of my sister and my friends climbing into the airport shuttle behind him. When I look back into his eyes, the way he looks at me proudly makes my hesitation fade away. “I think I was worried for a moment there—that if I left right now, when I come back nothing will be the same,” I admit.
He exhales, pulling me to his chest to hold me tight, and his lips fall to my head. “Paige, when you’re gone, time for me…it stops,” he says. I step away to look at him, so happy with this place I’ve ended up. “I waited years for you. Seven weeks? That’s nothin’.”
“Seven weeks,” I repeat.
“Seven weeks,” he smiles. I press my lips to his, standing on my toes, until I have to peel away and join the others in the shuttle. Houston follows me to the edge of the curb, and just as he’s about to shut the door, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a rolled-up booklet of notebook paper, stapled together on one side.
“What’s this?” I ask, taking it from him, noticing his handwriting and doodles on the front page.
“It’s your story,” he says. “I wrote it for you. It’s cheesy as hell, and I’m pretty sure the things I tried to write in Spanish mean totally the wrong thing, but it’s…I don’t know…romantic, I guess? I thought it would be, but now I feel sort of lame.”
“It’s very romantic,” I smile, clasping my story to my chest. “And we’ll work on the Spanish.”
“Damn right, we will,” he winks. “I failed last semester.”
“Love you,” I say one last time, the door closing between us. We both hold up a hand and press it on either side of the glass, and I watch his skin slide over it as the van slowly pulls away.
Ty and Nate are making fun of me from the front seat, and Cass and Rowe are yelling at them for me from the back. I’m in the middle, where I ignore their noise, flipping through my rag-tag fairytale—the notebook fringe flaking away on the edges. I run my finger over the stick-figure girl with long blonde hair and the prince standing next to her, holding a sandwich, and I smile when I read his butchered Spanish confession of love near the end, an arrow in the margin pointing to the words, reading “this means I love you.”
Yes, Houston.
Yes, it does.
THE END
Acknowledgments
This is harder to write than it normally is. This series was a special one for me. It was special thanks to the many readers who found Nate Preeter first, then championed him, and asked for more. It’s special because of his brother, Tyson Preeter, who will remain one of my favorite characters I’ve ever written for his ability to overcome adversity and his smart-ass mouth. And it’s special because of Paige—my strong-willed, albeit a little harsh, girl on a mission. It didn’t hit me when I wrote THE END on Paige’s story. It didn’t even hit me through the edits and the final read. But now…
Now…it’s hitting me.
Book 3 in the Falling series is done. One year at McConnell College is complete. And Paige, Cass, Rowe, Nate, Tyson and Houston will move on. To where…well, I sort of left that up to you. Maybe I left that up to me a little, too. And maybe there will come a day where I check in on them, where we all gather at McConnell for graduation or for Nate’s big day. I don’t know. All I know is I couldn’t make it a final goodbye forever, even if that ends up being the case. I didn’t want to close that door, because these characters—I am going to miss them. And I just feel a whole hell of a lot better knowing they’re still there should I need to visit.
I have so very many people to thank here. First and foremost, to the unbelievable blogging and reading community who hoisted the Preeter brothers on their shoulders and literally paraded them around the world in social media, in book clubs, conversations and more. You have no idea how happy you have made mama Preeter (that’s me, btw). I would be lost without my beta reading team (I really need to make you ladies shirts, I swear). Thank you: Jen, Debbie, Ashley, Bianca, Shelley and Brigitte. Tina Scott and Billi Joy Carson, you never flinch when I throw thousands of words your way for editing, and I’m forever grateful for your talents. And the mighty women at Wordsmith Publicity—Autumn and Andrea—the muscle you lend in making sure that spotlight shines this way is so appreciated. I love you ladies.
I cannot forget the team who helped make that spot-on perfect cover image come to life for The Girl I Was Before. Firstly, thank you models Kelsey and Orlando for making Paige and Houston come to life in an adorably perfect way. And thank you Glendale Community College for serving as the McConnell College campus for this photo shoot. And finally, photographer Mark Lipczynski—thanks for making this so special. I’ve always been a fan, and working with you has always been a highlight. This one was simply icing on the cake.
If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review. Your reviews are often the only way small stories like this can be seen, and I for one know the power readers have. I’m so grateful for every post, mention, recommendation, book club, Tweet, pin and more that readers have given to my books. I hope to give you lots to talk about in the future.
Until next time, enjoy the fall, and avoid the #fussyfuss.
XO
Ginger
About the Author
Ginger Scott is an Amazon-bestselling author of eight young and new adult romances, including Waiting on the Sidelines, Going Long, Blindness, How We Deal With Gravity, This Is Falling, You and Everything After, The Girl I Was Before and Wild Reckless.
A sucker for a good romance, Ginger’s other passion is sports, and she often blends the two in her stories. (She’s also a sucker for a hot quarterback, catcher, pitcher, point guard…the list goes on.) Ginger has been writing and editing for newspapers, magazines and blogs for more than 15 years. She has told the stories of Olympians, politicians, actors, scientists, cowboys, criminals and towns.
When she's not writing, the odds are high that she's somewhere near a baseball diamond, either watching her son field pop flies like Bryce Harper or cheering on her favorite baseball team, the Arizona Diamondbacks. Ginger lives in Arizona and is married to her college sweetheart whom she met at ASU (fork 'em, Devils).
Visit Ginger Scott online:
@TheGingerScott
GingerScottAuth
or
www.littlemisswrite.com
Books By Ginger Scott
Waiting On The Sidelines
Going Long
This Is Falling
You And Everything After
The Girl I Was Before
Wild Reckless
Blindness
How We Deal With Gravity