Behind the Falls

by Brenda Zalegowski

  “Well, like I said, I think she was kind of lost. I think she identified with Holden. Hell, I identify with Holden. You think he’s pretentious and judgmental when he calls everyone and everything phony but I think it’s more about how he feels like he’s not connected…to everyone, to life in general. He’s the one that feels unreal, like he’s adrift, not part of life, not normal. I mean, I could be totally wrong. I don’t really know what Salinger’s point was but that’s how I see it.

  “Maybe she named you Holden to remind her of that low point in her life. Maybe she thought she might need a reminder of what she felt like then and that she could never go back there, would never want to go back there again. It’s possible, don’t you think?”

  “Okay, what do you make of this?” Max says. He pages past the last page of the book to the blank pages at the back and there’s writing on the very last page. It’s thin, flowing script written in a fine black marker.

  “Holden, you saved me. I don’t know where I would have ended up without you. I’m here today because of you. Without you I wouldn’t have my parents in my life. I wouldn’t have this life I have now. I might not have any life at all. It’s because of you.”

  “What the hell is that all about?” he says. “Who writes a note to a fictional character?”

  It’s dated August 7th seventeen years ago. She signed her full name, Margaret Lynn McDowell. I smile. I don’t know how he doesn’t get it. Maybe he’s spent too much time reading and re-reading this book instead of this most important page.

  “Max, look at the date,” I tell him. I feel him shrug behind me.

  “Yeah, so?”

  “You are so incredibly smart. How can you be such an idiot?” I laugh a little. I give him a minute but he doesn’t get it. August 7th is two days after his birthday. She may have still been in the hospital when she wrote the note. “Max, she wrote this note to YOU. If she hadn’t had you she wouldn’t have gone back to her parents. He wouldn’t have left and she would have stayed with him in that trailer. She may have died along with him. YOU saved her. She turned it all around for you.”

  He’s quiet for a minute. He runs his fingers over the page as if he can feel the words she’s written or somehow touch her by touching them. I hear him take a deep breath and hold it before leaving it out shakily. Then he hugs me tightly, burying his face in my hair.

  “God, I love you so much, No,” he whispers. “Thank you.” I put the book down and I turn around so I’m facing him and I take his face in my hands and kiss him long and hard. The smile he gives me is the brightest I’ve ever seen. God, I love this boy.

  I’ve stayed overnight at Max’s house plenty of times. This isn’t exactly new and yet it’s entirely different. After Max says goodnight to his parents and we both change into pajamas he locks his studio door then his bedroom door. I usually fall asleep accidentally while we’re watching movies but tonight we haven’t been watching any TV.

  Curling up together, cradled in the circle of arms that I know love me is the most amazing feeling. I can’t imagine how sex could be any more intimate than sleeping curled up in each other. I love that when we spoon he holds me against him like he’s protecting me but I also love how it feels when I roll over to face him and we tangle in a mess of arms and legs. I love that as my eyes get heavy he’s still stroking my hair softly or kissing me randomly. I think I fall asleep with a smile on my face.

  So why do I wake up in the middle of the night with my heart racing and adrenaline rushing through me? I’m not panicking but I’m anything but okay. It feels like waking up from a nightmare, only more intense and I don’t remember having dreamed at all. I’m breathing too quickly and I can’t calm down or relax. I’m afraid I’m going to wake Max so I slip out of his arms and get out of bed. I can’t really see very well in his dark room so I grab a random book from his shelves and let myself into the studio.

  I’ve been trying to read on the couch in the studio for more than two hours when the door opens. My heart isn’t racing anymore (it seemed to take forever for that to stabilize) and my breathing is more normal but I’m still very much awake.

  “Noah, what are you doing in here?” asks Max. His hair is tousled and his eyes look sleepy.

  “I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to disturb you with my tossing and turning,” I tell him. He sits next to me and puts his head on my shoulder.

  “What are you reading?”

  “1Q84,” I say. “I have to say, I’m not loving it.” Max chuckles.

  “Come back to bed,” he says taking the book from my hand. He leads me back to his room and once we’re both back in bed he runs his fingers lightly up and down my back. It’s soothing.

  “Why can’t you sleep? You always sleep here,” he sounds concerned.

  “If you keep doing that I’ll be asleep in no time. I promise.” He nuzzles the back of my neck and continues the light stroking but he’s asleep before I am. It’s a long night but I’d rather be awake here with him than at home all alone.

  ****

  January is being cold and temperamental. It snows at least once a week. We’ve already missed two days of school even though we’re only a few weeks into the month. I’ve never been happier.

  On days that Max tutors I get a ride home with Mom but on the other days I go home with Max. I think I’ve had dinner at his house more times this month than at my own house. At least my appetite is more or less normal. I’ve never been a big eater (although I can kill a pizza) but at least I don’t have people remarking that I’m not eating enough anymore and the gap in the waistband of my jeans is getting smaller.

  I run on the treadmill at the Maxwell’s a few times a week. It’s just too cold and icy to run outside anymore. I fell getting out of the car at Dr. Cooper’s office on Wednesday and my fall was broken by the car door which is to say ouch! He continues to adjust the meds so that hopefully soon I will be off them completely again. We’ve been doing more cognitive therapy and concentrating on controlling my breathing and anxiety so I don’t need meds.

  I still can’t sleep. At first I thought it was because my body needed to get used to the adjustment in the meds but insomnia continues to be an issue. I don’t say anything to my parents or the doctor though. I don’t want the Xanax increased again and I REALLY don’t want them to suggest some kind of sleep aids.

  On Friday there’s a dance at the school and Max talks me into going. I haven’t been to a school dance since that first one and I was hoping to not have to repeat that experience. Somehow I got lucky when I was dating Sherrie and she was out of town the one night there was a dance that month.

  We go as a group which is how Max and Tabitha and their friends always go to dances. Elliot has a sort of girlfriend now and she goes with us as does his younger sister. I say sort of girlfriend because I’m not even sure they’re kissing yet but they’re always together and we can all tell he’s crazy about her. When slow songs are played I generally dance with Darcy and Max dances with Tabitha.

  I really like Darcy. She reminds me of Kimber in a way and that makes me comfortable around her. I also don’t have to hide how I feel about Max around her which is a nice change since I have to hide my feelings around most everyone else. When we slow dance she rests her head on my shoulder as if we’re an actual couple. She teases me that she has no problem being my “beard”. I wish none of it mattered to me. I wish I could hold Max and sway slightly and even kiss him here on the gym floor but I just can’t handle that.

  The dance is in full swing when Max leans over and whispers in my ear, “I want to take you someplace. Follow me.” He gets up and leaves the table, strolling nonchalantly out of the gym. I follow in a way that I’m sure is a lot less cool.

  “Noah,” I hear his voice call my name from somewhere down the hall and I follow it. As I’m walking a hand reaches out and grabs me and pulls me into one of the alcoves of a classroom. It’s the chemistry classroom. I can’t help but smile.

  He pulls me close and t
hen he’s kissing me and at first I’m nervous that someone will see but it’s dark and the halls are empty. If anyone were to come near we’d hear footsteps. His hands are on my face and my hands grip his wrists and then his arms go around me and I tangle my hands in his hair.

  “This was the scene of the crime, right?” he says.

  “Yeah, except she had me against the wall,” I say. He nuzzles my neck and laughs.

  “I wish it had been me, your first kiss that is.” He kisses me again. “Do you think your parents will let you go to a club with Tabitha and me tomorrow?” he says between kisses.

  “I don’t know. I guess it depends on the club and what time we’ll get home and where it is and all of that. I can ask.” I’m not all that sure I want to go to a club even if it is with Max. I think I’d rather stay at home with Max.

  “Tabitha and I are going to Harrisburg to see some guys I know. They’re like this close to getting signed. Like, literally, the paperwork just needs to be finalized. This will be their last show before they go into the studio. I’ll ask your parents for you if you think they’ll say yes to me. I would just really like it if you could be there.”

  “You have friends that are being signed?” So much of Max’s life it just a mystery to me. Who knew he had soon to be famous friends?

  “Yeah, I met the singer/guitar player at the same club we’re going to and we jammed a few times. I got to know the other guys in his band. They’re a little older but definitely very cool. I’m glad they’re on their way. I really want you to be there tomorrow, with me,” he says as he pulls the collar of my shirt to the side so he can reach that sweet spot where my neck meets my shoulder. If he keeps doing that I won’t be able to go back to the dance. I tell him so.

  “Okay, let’s go back to the dance,” he sighs and teases like he’s all put out or something.

  “Should you go first? I mean, I don’t know, won’t it look weird that we went off together?” I worry. Max laughs.

  “If anyone even notices they’ll assume we went out to drink or something.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t even drink.”

  “People will always believe the most obvious thing and sadly around here on a Friday night drinking would be the obvious answer.” He’s right. No one seems to notice that we were even gone.

  I stay overnight at Max’s house after the dance. Mom says I’m going to wear out my welcome but I think she’s actually thrilled that I’m out of the house and that I have friends and no anxiety. I think both of my parents enjoy the alone time. I hope they do anyway.

  When we get home from the dance Max plays some music on his computer. It’s soft piano music with no other accompaniment. I wonder if it’s his. It’s beautiful whatever it is.

  “Come here,” he says and grabs the waistband of my jeans. He fists his hand around the bit of extra fabric that’s still there even though I’ve put on a few pounds and pulls me against him. His arms go around my waist and mine go around his shoulders and we’re just swaying to the music. I rest my head on his shoulder.

  “I wanted this all night,” he says.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “What are you apologizing for? Don’t do that,” he says.

  “But I’m the reason you can’t,” I say. I know Max would dance with whoever the Hell he wants to and just let someone say something. He doesn’t CARE what people say or think of him because he doesn’t need their approval. I can’t be that way though. I can’t even figure myself out, how can I expect to stand up to the world?

  After we dance for a while Max kicks off his shoes and backs up to the bed. He’s pulling me along with him and as the backs of his legs hit the bed he allows himself to fall onto it and he pulls me on top of him. I’m not often looking down at him. Usually it’s the other way around. I straddle his hips on my hands and knees and look down at him. He smiles up at me.

  I lower myself enough to kiss first his mouth then along his jawline then his neck. The more I kiss his neck, pecking and sucking and teasing, the more his breath quickens. I love that I can get him to this state. I find that sweet spot and I wonder if it feels as good to him as it does to me to be kissed there so I do it. His hands find my waist and his fingers squeeze as he gasps my name. Yeah, I think he likes it.

  I unbutton his shirt and kiss his chest. It’s pale and as smooth as mine but where I’m scrawny he’s lean and strong. He’s perfect. He shrugs the rest of the way out of his shirt. I kiss lower towards his stomach, a place I’ve never been. I can feel his muscles tighten as I press my lips into his abs. I’m intrigued by the line that runs down the center and my tongue finds its way there all on its own. When he moans his appreciation I can feel myself get hard.

  I sit back on my heels to look at him. He looks back, never breaking eye contact. When I lean in to kiss him again his hands find the buttons at the top of my Henley. I almost didn’t wear it tonight because it seemed a little too casual for a dance but when he saw the color, Max insisted. It’s the same not quite brown but not exactly rust color of my hair. He opens the buttons. His hands find the hem of my shirt and start to lift and I brush him away almost a little too forcefully.

  “Come on, Noah. I’m half undressed. It’s only fair,” he teases. I can’t explain my weird inferiority complex to him. I don’t know why I hate the thought of him seeing my bare chest. I should start working out or something besides running. Maybe Max can teach me Taekwondo. He starts sliding the shirt up again and again I stop him.

  “Mon Coeur, you’re in charge. You are always in charge. Nothing scary will happen, nothing you don’t want. I just want to see you and touch you and admire you,” he encourages. We kiss for several more minutes before he tries to lift my shirt again and this time I let him. My heart is pounding and I’m a little terrified but I let him. I trust him. It’s Max.

  “Jesus, Noah! What the Hell is that?!” he yells and sits up which sort of throws me off my hands and knees onto my ass. See, this is not the kind of reaction you want when you’re making out and take off your shirt for the first time.

  “What?” I gasp.

  “Who did this to you?” he demands in a tight, angry voice. At first I’m bewildered and then he runs his hand ever so gently down my side.

  “Oh that, it does look pretty horrifying doesn’t it?” I laugh. The bruise that my fall at Dr. Cooper’s office left a few days ago is horror movie grotesque. The ribs of my left side are black and blue and green and quite frankly, hideous. My left arm is also a bit bruised but the bruise on my ribs is the remarkable one. When I look at Max he’s scowling.

  “Noah, tell me right now,” he says quietly and I can hear that he’s struggling to keep his voice calm. “Who did this?” I finally realize that Max thinks this was an injury inflicted on me by someone on purpose rather than my own clumsiness and winter’s harsh reality.

  “I did this,” I tell him. “I fell on some ice getting out of the car and used the open car door to break my fall which as it turns out was not exactly very smart of me. I think just hitting the ground would have been less painful.” He doesn’t seem to believe me.

  “You have a garage. How would you fall on ice getting out of the car?”

  “It was in a parking lot, not at home. Geeze, Max, calm down. It’s not a big deal,” I lean in to kiss him and he lets me but his lips are tight. He’s really angry.

  “If anyone ever lays a hand on you, I don’t care who it is, you tell me. If anyone ever hurts you or even threatens you, you tell me. You got that? You tell me,” he insists.

  “No one has ever laid a hand on me. Max, it’s nothing. It’s my own clumsiness. I don’t need saving. Really I don’t. Please just relax and kiss me again or I might develop an extreme phobia about taking off my clothes around you.” He takes a deep breath running his fingertips lightly over my bruised skin.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Only a little if I lay on that side for too long or if I touch it wrong,” I say. He immediately pulls his hand away. “Yo
u weren’t hurting me. That was fine,” I say and I put his hand on me again.

  Eventually he seems to lighten up and now he’s really looking at me and I feel my cheeks get warm. He runs his fingers over my chest and stomach and down my sides. He gets his hands under my arms and sort of flips me so I’m lying down looking up at him and now he’s kneeling over me.

  He kisses and licks and teases all over my exposed skin. He grabs the waist of my jeans again and pulls them down as far as they will go without opening the button and zipper and he kisses me on the stomach right in that spot that tightens like it is right now. I know what that is now. It’s desire. My body definitely wants something my mind isn’t ready for yet.

  No matter how many times we kiss, no matter how many make out sessions we have I still get butterflies. I still get stomach flipping and world spinning and heart racing when he touches me, kisses me and tickles my ear with whispered words. He still affects me like he did the first time he ever kissed me. I hope that never goes away because it’s amazing. He’s amazing.

  At some point my button has been popped and my zipper has been run down and now my jeans are being pushed down on my hips. He’s holding himself up on one hand while he kisses me and the other hand is navigating denim. I gasp when he slips his hand inside.

  “Too much?” he stops kissing me to ask.

  “Yes, no, I mean…” I don’t know. I’m not sure about this. This is getting into scary territory now. At least it is for thinking Noah. Physical Noah is already pressing into his hand. “I…” I have to stop speaking. I can’t feel this and breathe and think and speak all at the same time.

  “Nothing you haven’t done to yourself a time or two,” he teases. That breaks the tension and my fear and I laugh. It’s not my usual soft, self-conscious laugh either. It’s a full bodied from deep in the gut laugh and soon Max is laughing with me.

  “God that’s a beautiful sound,” he whispers in my ear. “I want to hear more of that. You need more joy.”

  “You can be my joy,” I tell him and all on their own with no prompting from me my hands have made their way to his jeans and look at that. They’ve opened the button and pulled down the zipper. Max slips off of me to lie next to me and with a hand on my hip he guides me over onto my side facing him. We’re lying face to face in various stages of undress.