The Girl Who Fell

by S. M. Parker

  “My dad’s the one who got it for me. I asked for a favor from one of the guys he worked with . . . over there.” Lizzie’s father was an embedded reporter in Afghanistan. Lots of guys from the platoon he was assigned to still keep in touch with Lizzie and her mom. “It’s not like I earned it.”

  “Of course you did! Anyone can do a favor, Lizzie, but you’re worth doing a favor for. Don’t believe for a second you didn’t earn this.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.” I swallow hard because Lizzie is leaving me. And because I have no idea where I’ll be next year. That’s when it hits me that her accomplishment isn’t mine at all. “You better not turn into a Yankees fan or anything.”

  She laughs and it sounds different, like parts of her are already gone.

  “So, when does it start?” I almost choke on the next part. “When do you leave?”

  “Right after graduation.”

  “In June?”

  “Change is all around us, Zee.” The line falls quiet—but not the comfortable quiet of years together. The air, along with our future, has shifted. “I plan to do a feature story on you discovering some insanely relevant aquatic life form someday. That is, after I spend quality time fetching coffee for the actual writers.”

  “You’re going to be a rock star.” I hate the jealousy creeping in, filling the cracks carved by my growing insecurities.

  “I’ll settle for being employable at the end of the internship.”

  “You’ll never have to settle. You’ll see.”

  When will I see? When will I know what my next years will look like? It physically hurts having this little control over the outcome of my life.

  I wish I were a better friend, someone who could feel joy for Lizzie without thinking of what I want for me. But I’m not. My head clutters with this new trifecta of abandonment: Lizzie in New York, Alec going to Michigan, and Gregg bound for Boston. Quicksand tugs at my feet. I’ll be stuck in this town with no future. No friends. It will be as lonely as I am now. Or worse, and that I couldn’t stand.

  We say our good-byes and my bedroom walls breathe in, shrinking. How can four years of careful planning and calculated extracurriculars result in my entire future hanging on the decision of one school’s acceptance board? How did I give over so much control?

  I move to the bathroom to splash water on my face, brush my teeth. I coil toothpaste onto my brush and a hint of mint rises. It settles inside me, waking that part of me that Alec owns. The part he brought to life. Maybe I can’t control the Boston College admissions board, my friends leaving, or even what will happen with my parents, but I can affect what happens between me and Alec.

  I dress precisely and slip into school after homeroom, keeping my attendance off the radar. Alec has free study first period and I find him in his usual spot in the library. He’s tucked into the overstuffed chair that is hidden on two sides by obsolete card catalogs. The toes of his Converse peek out from where they rest on the ottoman just beyond the barrier. I steel my breath, brace myself against the wooden wall of Dewey for strength.

  I can’t do this. I hate eyes on me.

  But then. No, I need to do this. Because I can’t imagine what my life will be like if I don’t do this.

  The librarian’s desk faces the nook where Alec sits, but she has her back turned, her attention focused on her file cabinet. Then she gets up, disappears into the records office.

  I pull my coat tighter around me and move into Alec’s space. He looks up, his face opening with surprise before his features withdraw into the memory of why he’s mad at me.

  I stand, wordless. I raise my fingers to the top button of my peacoat, unbutton it with a twist. Then the next button and the next. My coat falls open. I tug at one side, pull it down slowly. I let my coat slip along the length of my arms, its wool weight collapsing to the floor at my feet, exposing me in an enormously tiny black dress, every curve outlined. I steady, step out of the pool of fabric, stride toward him, making sure to rub my knee against the knob of his. He swallows hard, speech humming on his lips.

  “Shh,” I hush. He obeys, tucking his words into silence. I am next to him now, our thighs pressing together, the heat intoxicating. My mind fills with danger and fear, not knowing if my plan will work, or what will happen if it does. I settle slowly onto his lap. The dark hem of my dress rises over my bare thigh, an exposure he registers.

  Wordlessly, he runs his hands up my thighs, raising my skirt higher until his hands cup my bottom. He yanks me closer on his lap and heat soars through me as we silently hold one another’s gaze. I squeeze my legs hard around him, lean into his ear, and whisper, “Tell me you won’t throw me off.”

  “That would be impossible.”

  “So then you’ll hear me out, about how sorry I am, how you’re the only guy I could ever want?”

  His gaze trails the tight cloth over my hip, into the cavern where my stomach dips and then up to my cleavage. “Full disclosure?”

  I nod, biting my lip.

  “It’s a little hard to concentrate with you”—he waves his hand along the length of my body—“like this.”

  “But I want to apologize. I need to make you see.”

  His eyes widen. “All I can see is this dress.”

  “Then maybe I need to take it off.” The offer stuns even me.

  Alec drains of color except for a darkness that films his eyes, making him look distant and alert all at once. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

  No. Yes. I know only one thing. “I don’t want anyone else.”

  “I want to believe that, but how can you be sure?”

  “It’s the only thing I do know. I love you.” My heart waits to beat, braces for rejection.

  But he doesn’t reject me. He moves his mouth onto mine and our tongues meet with the fury of regretted absence. His hand slips to the scoop of my neck, and his thumb dips over my bra, wakes the skin around my heart. My body lights to the heat of his touch and the promise of more.

  I pull away, whisper, “Get a pass for the bathroom. Meet me at my car. Upper lot.”

  “How are you getting excused?”

  “I’m not even here as far as Sudbury’s concerned. I just came to kidnap you.”

  “Why does that totally turn me on?”

  I stand, pull down on the hem of my skirt. “Come on.”

  He runs his fingers through his hair, gets up and walks to the librarian’s desk. He requests a pass and it is done.

  I take a deep breath, proud for staying true to my plan, prouder still for not blushing during its execution. I pull on my coat and leave through the rear door, disappearing into the empty hallways and out to the upper parking lot where my trusty Volvo still holds heat.

  Within minutes, Alec jumps in the car joined by a burst of frozen wind. “Does it count as kidnapping if I come willingly?”

  I thrust the Volvo in gear. “Technically, no, but it’s a minor detail.”

  “Well, your proposition was better than anything the library could offer. Where are you taking me?”

  “My house.”

  “Then please, drive on.” Alec lowers his head onto my lap and trails my thigh with a thousand bird kisses. I fight to focus.

  When we arrive at my house I’m relieved the locked door buys me time. Turns out, I hadn’t fully thought through the protocols for taking Alec back to my place.

  “Can you get the key?” I point to the fake rock that sits inside the urn of pine boughs.

  He hands me the ring. “High tech.”

  I laugh, open the door while Alec returns our security system to its not-so-incognito existence.

  In the kitchen, I can’t locate the bold feeling I had in the library. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “No. That’s not what I want.” He peels my coat from my shoulders, then his hand slips into mine and he leads me to my bedroom. He closes the door behind us.

  Alec plops onto my bed, folds his hands behind his hea
d. “Stay there. I want to look at you.”

  My blush returns but I obey him for the endless minutes he gathers my bits into memory.

  “So what’s all this talk about an apology?”

  “I made you a promise and I broke it. I shouldn’t have gone over to Gregg’s without telling you.”

  “That’s a start. Now unzip the back of your dress.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “This is how I think this should work. Every time you make a compelling argument for my forgiveness, that unnecessary dress should get closer to the floor.”

  “So you’re making the rules in my apology?”

  He teases a smile. “I’m trying to restore trust between us, Zephyr.”

  I laugh. “Oh, is that what you’re doing?”

  “I hope so, yeah.”

  And isn’t that what I want? His trust. Restored. I reach my fingers to the zipper along the back. I notch down the metal teeth slowly, air painting my skin with its invisible bristles. I stop at the base of my spine. The top of the dress loosens, the fabric bunches with the release.

  “Now. What else?”

  “I promise I’ll always be honest with you. I don’t ever want to fight with you.”

  “I don’t want to fight either. I never want that, Zephyr.” I pull my arms free of the fabric and stand before him in my new crimson bra. Alec stands quickly, gathers me to him.

  “I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

  “You have, believe me. This is huge. What you were willing to do for me.” He kisses me so softly then. He steps back, pulls off his shirt. The muscles in his stomach ripple and I feel a hunger inside. He pulls me in tight and we press our bodies against each other. “Trust goes both ways.”

  He lowers me to my bed and gathers me in his arms. I feel his hardness and my breath darts.

  His fingers trail down to my hip and the fold of dress that rests there. My skin rises to his touch. “It killed me, you know. Not calling you.”

  “It killed me. Not hearing from you.”

  “It won’t happen again. I don’t want to be that guy.”

  “What guy?”

  “You know how I told you my father’s pretty much always gone?” I nod. He continues. “What I didn’t tell you was how my mom constantly accused him of cheating. I don’t think she ever trusted him. And I think my father probably is cheating. In fact, it wouldn’t shock me to discover he has a whole other family. That’s how crazy things are between them. But the craziest thing is that I think he cheated because my mom was always riding him about it. I think one day he figured, why not, you know, I’m catching shit for it anyway.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “I’ve never told anyone before.” His fingers rake at my curls. “I think I have trust issues because of my parents’ bullshit, but I don’t want that for me. I want to know I can trust the person I love, that we’ll always treat each other with respect.” He twists my hip, flipping me to face him. My chest presses against his bare skin. My heart thunders with the rush.

  “I don’t want to do anything to lose you.” He kisses me, butterfly wings sweeping. “I’m just so afraid of being a shitty girlfriend. What if I mess up again?”

  “You won’t.”

  “You can’t know that. I could screw it all up like I almost did.”

  “We’ll be okay.”

  “Yeah, until the next time. I’ve never done any of this before, Alec. Not really. I mean, not seriously.”

  “Done what?”

  “All of it. Love. Sex. Dating someone this seriously. I’ve never met anyone who mattered the way you do.”

  “It’s okay. I get it.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course. Why do you think this fucked with my head so badly?” He pulls away, lies on his back, stares at my ceiling.

  “I wish I were more experienced. Or better at this or something.”

  He props onto an elbow. “That’s crazy talk. You’re perfect, Zephyr.”

  “Not even close.”

  “Well, we’ll figure out the imperfect parts together. And we’ll wait until you’re ready. Go as slow or as fast as you want. No pressure.”

  “I’m not sure I want slow,” I say, and that distant darkness burns deep in Alec’s eyes again.

  He kisses me hard then, his hands roaming over my chest, until he stops, whispers in my ear. “I made myself nuts this weekend imagining you with Slice.”

  “I told you it’s not like that.”

  “I believe you, I do.” He moves off me. One finger trails a line across my skin, bumping into the soft hollow of my belly button. His touch, there—it steals my breath. “But I need you to prove it. This is important to me. Like I said, I’ve got trust issues. It’s my baggage and I own it, but I couldn’t handle losing you. I just couldn’t.”

  I couldn’t either. I don’t ever want to feel like I have these past few days. “You have me. We have each other. I won’t break your trust again. You’ll see.”

  “So you’re cool not hanging out with other guys? Slice included.”

  I roll toward him, covering my breasts with my arm. “But I told you—”

  “I need to protect myself.”

  I see that. The way he needs to keep his heart safe. The same way I need to guard my own. “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  I nod. I want the two of us locked together. No outside world. No people. No pressure. Our own paradise.

  “I’m enough for you?” he asks.

  “More than enough.” I reach out, stroke my hand down the hard cut of his chest muscles.

  He glides his hand over my bottom, pulls me to him. “You make me happy.”

  But I am the happy one. With him, so close. Even closer when he admits his weaknesses. He holds me and I’m grateful for our openness, our willingness to negotiate all the terms that will keep us safe.

  “Now that we’re okay again, we probably don’t need this dress, right?” His shy grin plays at his mouth.

  “Probably not.”

  Alec moves on the bed, slips my dress from my waist. My heart races. He kisses a trail up and then down my body, guiding my underwear off my hips. I twist to cover myself as he stands at the end of my bed, unbuttons his jeans. His look asks, Is this all right?

  Is it?

  Am I ready?

  I nod, holding my breath. He slides his jeans off his hips and they fall to the floor with a dull, weighted whoosh. Then he pulls down his boxers and I don’t hear them drop. I can only process Alec, stripped before me, every inch of him exposed. Fear and excitement intertwine in a rope inside me.

  Alec slicks up the length of the bed, links his bare leg with mine. My stomach flutters. My skin craves the blanket of him. And fears it.

  “I can’t,” I say.

  “I know. I want your first time to be special. More than special.”

  Relief hisses from my lungs. “I want that too.”

  “But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy making up.” He presses his body into mine and the rush is so fast and sweeping that his hands build a white light in my head that threatens to explode.

  He whispers in my ear, “I’m glad you like the way I touch you.”

  I hear myself answer from some faraway existence. “I like it so much.”

  There is a new sound coming from within me, a sound that denotes pleasure.

  But when I hear it again, I realize it’s coming from outside of me.

  A small whimper.

  A dog’s whimper.

  Chapter 20

  “How long has he been behaving like this?” The veterinarian feels for Finn’s pulse.

  Finn lies listless on the exam table, his breath short and too fast. His tongue dangles from the side of his open mouth, as if he doesn’t have the energy to wrangle it back into position.

  “Just today, really,” I say, hating myself. How could I have been so focused on Alec—no, on me—that I completely missed the fact that Finn didn’t greet us at the door
when we snuck home from school?

  Alec rubs reassuring circles across the small of my back. The motion holds me upright. “The last time I saw Finn he was fine. I guess that was . . . what? A week ago?”

  The vet looks at me through her glasses, slid halfway down the bridge of his nose. “True?”

  “Yeah, but he was really tired the other day. I thought maybe he’d gotten into something in the woods.” I wish Mom was here to say what she’s noticed, but I couldn’t wait for her to get home from work.

  “Did he vomit?” the vet asks.

  “No. I-I don’t think so. Not that I saw. But he could have. I found him outside and he seemed disoriented.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Alec asks.

  The veterinarian shakes her head. “Not sure yet. But he’ll need to stay here. We’ll hydrate him, observe him. And I’ll let you know if we find anything conclusive in the blood work.”

  I don’t know why her words aren’t more urgent, why she’s not hydrating him right now. Drawing blood. Making him feel better.

  A sob rattles my skeleton. “He’ll be all right, won’t he?” I am nine years old again, helpless in the moments after Buttons was hit by the car that never stopped.

  “We’ll do everything we can,” she tells me.

  I press a kiss into the top of Finn’s head wishing I could pour my good health into him. “I love you, boy.” Grief crackles and divides my words. “More than anything.”

  The vet adjusts her stethoscope. “I need to know if you want us to place a monetary cap on his treatment.”

  “You mean . . . like stop fixing him if it gets too expensive?”

  She nods.

  “God no.” But then I realize I’m not the one to make this call. I have no real idea about my family’s finances lately.

  “Give him the best care,” Alec says. “I’ll make sure the bill gets paid.”

  “Alec, no. You can’t.”

  “I can, Zephyr. Money is so not something you need to worry about right now.”

  “Thank you.” My words are not big enough.

  “We’ll do everything we can,” the vet says. Her promise without a guarantee.

  “Please be okay,” I whisper to Finn.

  Alec rubs my shoulders. “Zephyr, he’s in good hands.”