Freefall

by Mindi Scott

  “So what’s next?” I asked. “Are you and your thrill-seeking parents going to go skydiving or something?”

  And just like that, the easy vibe was gone, and Rosetta was letting go of my hand and sitting up straight. She’d moved only four inches, maybe five, but it felt like five feet. I had no clue what I’d missed.

  She was looking at me questioningly. “I thought you knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  She bit her lip. “Well, my parents. They aren’t around anymore. They passed away.”

  Shit. How could I have known that? Or maybe it was more like, how could I not have known?

  “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling like a jerk. “I had no idea.”

  “They died right before I moved here in February.” She started smoothing her dress over her legs. “Which is why I moved here. I live with my aunt and uncle.” She looked at me again. “You really didn’t know that?”

  Rosetta and I had been hanging out for several weeks. We talked to each other a lot. At least, I’d thought it was a lot. But not about her family. Which I hadn’t noticed until this exact moment.

  “I should have picked up on it,” I said. “I’m really sorry, Rosetta.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, shaking her head as if she was trying to clear her mind. “When I first came to town, my busybody aunt made sure to tell everyone at the country club about taking me in. I assumed there wasn’t anyone left who hadn’t heard about Little Orphan Rosetta.”

  “Yeah, I’m not really part of the country club crowd.”

  She smiled at me. A tiny, tiny smile. “That’s probably why I like you so much.”

  Then she moved close again, took my hand, and held it in both of hers while she stared down at her lap some more.

  I didn’t know what to say. What to ask. What to do. But I couldn’t just sit there and say nothing. She hadn’t left me hanging when I’d told her about Isaac. And this thing with her parents explained why she’d understood so well about Isaac. It might explain even more than that.

  “You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want,” I said. “But when you were crying in the stairwell at school a few weeks ago, did it have something to do with your parents?”

  “You saw me crying?”

  “I’m sorry. I should have said something at the time. I’m really sorry.”

  “You don’t have to keep apologizing,” she said softly.

  But I kind of did. It felt like the only thing I could do.

  “The reason I was in the stairwell is because I was upset about my quiz,” she said. “In the middle of crying my eyes out, I thought about how if my mom found out I’d been sobbing over physics like that, she’d tell me I needed to chill so I wouldn’t give myself ulcers. For a few seconds, I felt better, like I’d really be having that conversation with her when I got home from school. But then I remembered, and it felt like both of them had just died all over again.”

  Her words hung there, but I totally got it. I was sure it would be worse when it’s your parents—it had to be—but I still knew what she meant. “That happens to me sometimes with Isaac. There have been times that I’ve thought about calling him up before I remember that I can’t anymore. The remembering part sucks.”

  “And the dreams are even worse, I think, because of how they mess with your mind.” Rosetta sighed. “I’ll have them where my mom and dad will appear, and I’ll be all, ‘But I thought you guys were dead!’ And they’ll say stuff like, ‘We had no choice except to fake our deaths, but now it’s safe so we’re back for you.’”

  I nodded. “Sometimes Isaac will show up in mine like that too. It will all come out that him dying had been a trick. And even though I know I should be pissed that he played me, I’m so relieved about him being alive that I don’t even care.”

  “And then you have to wake up and find out that the dream was the trick,” she said.

  “Exactly.”

  “Which can throw off your whole day before it even begins.”

  “Or the whole week,” I said.

  And with that, Rosetta and I shut up and just sat there looking at each other.

  We were both screwed up; we’d already figured that out weeks ago. But I think we were both just realizing that we were screwed up in the same way.

  I put my arm around her. Rubbed her goose-bumpy arm. Pulled her close.

  She tilted her face up. Touched my cheek. And kissed me.

  10:18 P.M.

  Rosetta’s lips were on my lips, her cheek was against my check, her tongue was touching my tongue, and her hand was gently stroking my face. Every single part of me was responding. I held her body against mine, as close and comfortably as our sitting-on-a-bench position would allow. One of my hands was on the cool, satiny material at her waist, and the other was high on her back, running over her hair and soft skin.

  If I had kept track of all the minutes I’d spent wondering what it would be like to kiss Rosetta, they would probably total hours. I’d pictured it wrong, though. In my imagination, kissing her hadn’t made everything feel like it was happening in slow motion and at lightning speed at the same time. And all these small movements, touches, and feelings hadn’t added up to something so intensely huge.

  The real thing was awesome.

  Too soon, Rosetta and I were two people whose lips, cheeks, and tongues weren’t touching anymore. I opened my eyes and looked into hers, and I could tell she’d felt it too, whatever it was. All I was thinking was Amazing, but I didn’t want to say it aloud. That one word described what I honestly meant, what I honestly felt, but it wasn’t enough somehow.

  So I didn’t speak at all. I kissed her again.

  10:26 P.M.

  Loud voices had moved to the outdoors. Car doors were slamming and engines were starting up in the parking lot. Which meant people were starting to leave the dance.

  Reluctantly, I paused in kissing Rosetta to look at my watch. “Uh-oh. We’ve been gone half an hour.”

  Her jaw dropped. “We should get back!”

  “Kendall’s going to kill me for ditching her. And Carr’s going to kill me for running off with his date.”

  Rosetta stood up. “I can’t believe how fast that went. It seemed like ten minutes.”

  I grabbed her shoes and put my arm around her as we headed down the bleacher steps, feeling let down by this not-making-out-anymore-and-heading-back-to-our-dates thing we had going on now. But when we got to the bottom, Rosetta smiled shyly at me. “So . . . that was nice.”

  “Yeah, it was.”

  And then we both laughed. I don’t know about her, but for me it wasn’t because of embarrassment or nervousness or anything. It was more like I was just so psyched.

  “My bungee metaphor kind of got lost back there,” Rosetta said as we kept going in the direction of the parking lot. “But it did make me think of something else I want to tell you.”

  I vaguely recalled hearing about metaphors in English class. So Rosetta had been talking about poetry, then?

  “What was your metaphor?”

  She glanced up at me, still shy. “It was supposed to be about you and me. And specifically about how I was really ready for you to kiss me for the first time.”

  Okay, that had all gone right over my head.

  “I see,” I said.

  Rosetta burst out laughing again. “You know, now that I just said that out loud, I can tell that it was very corny and heavy-handed. Sorry about that.”

  “No, it’s cool. Definitely the first time a girl’s ever talked about trying to jump to her death to get me to kiss her.”

  She laughed even harder, so that we had to stop walking for a few seconds until she calmed down. “Okay, so I have another metaphor for you. This one’s better, I think. Wasn’t Xander saying that the band thing he wants you to play is in two weeks?”

  “Yeah. You think I should jump off a bridge to get out of it?”

  “Actually, I think you should play the gig.”

  That w
as kind of a buzzkill.

  I shook my head. “Rosetta, I can’t—”

  “Just hear me out.” She stopped walking again and turned to face me, looking all happy and beautiful. “You think you can’t play a good show onstage without Isaac because you’ve never done it. Maybe for this stage-fright deal it’s going to come down to how badly you want it.”

  “If it was that easy, we would never have had a conversation about it in the first place, would we?”

  “Oh, it definitely isn’t easy.” She grabbed my free hand and started swinging it. “But maybe it’s like free-falling. You feel like you’d rather do anything than have to face it, but once you do it you realize it’s the best feeling you’ve ever had. Music is something you’re good at, something you like doing. And, I mean, if I can jump off a bridge, you should be able to play bass in front of a room full of people, right?”

  I sighed, suddenly not a fan of Rosetta’s metaphors or of her laying them on me when I’d been feeling so good about everything else that was happening with us. “You know that every single thing you’re saying to me is true about you too right? Even more because you’re the one who did jump off that bridge. If you can do something huge like that, you can do something small like get in a car.”

  Her smile faded and she shook her head. “It’s not the same thing.”

  “It is, Rosetta. It’s exactly the same. Facing your fear or whatever and just pushing through. You’re saying I can. I’m saying you can. It’s easy to say to each other. It’s not so easy to actually do it ourselves.”

  Her shoulders slumped and now she was frowning a little, but she nodded. “You’re right. I shouldn’t pressure you like this. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

  I thought I’d be relieved, but instead I was disappointed. I guess deep down I wanted Rosetta to get on my case. I liked how she challenged me, how she had so much faith that I could do things. And I liked turning it around on her, too. I didn’t even know why, but I wanted so badly to be the one to help her get over her phobia.

  It was way past time for us to get back to Kendall and Carr, but I was getting an idea and knew that if I didn’t blurt it out right then, I’d wuss out entirely. “You know what? I’m going to do it. I’ll commit to playing the gig. But only if you end your fake pledge and ride there with me.”

  She had the wide-eyed look of someone who’d been backed into a corner, but I didn’t let up. I needed her help. She needed mine.

  “Please,” I said. “Do this with me.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “You can.”

  “Seth, no.”

  “We have two weeks. We both have the same thing to work through when you think about it. We can use it as our ultimate IC class challenge or whatever, figure it out together, and make it happen.”

  She was chewing on her lip. Considering, maybe?

  “Come on, Rosetta. You know I can’t do it without you.”

  And that’s when she nodded. Slowly, hesitantly. But it was a nod.

  10:35 P.M.

  In front of the school, Rosetta and I were the only ones heading in instead of out. A few people were getting into limos and crap like that, but a bunch more were on their way to the parking lot we’d just come from. Pete and Vicki were passing by, and Vicki was staring at us so hard it looked like her eyes were going to pop out. Rosetta waved at her, and Vicki did that phone gesture thing by her ear that girls do and mouthed all frantic, Call me.

  From the bottom of the front steps, I could see Carr and Kendall waiting together up top. Carr looked pissed, but like he was trying to hide it; Kendall just looked pissed. I didn’t blame her. Even though I hadn’t meant to, I’d totally dicked her over.

  “Here we go,” I said to Rosetta, wishing I could kiss her one more time before having to leave her for the night. Instead, I followed her up.

  Carr stepped forward when we got there. I could tell that he was very deliberately not looking at me. “Are you okay, Rosetta?”

  “I’m great, actually,” she said.

  Carr nodded, and, as big an asshole as he was, I almost felt sorry for him. I mean, his date disappeared with some other guy at a dance. That had to suck.

  “If you want to go change now, I’ll walk you home,” he said.

  “That’s classy,” Kendall said. “You’re making her walk?”

  “Actually, I hired a car,” Carr said in an overly patient way. “But Rosetta has strong political beliefs and recently made a pledge to the environment, so she wasn’t able to ride in it.”

  Kendall gave Rosetta a once-over. “A pledge to the environment? All righty, then!” she said with that false brightness she was so good at. “You two have fun with your walking. I’m ready to use up some fossil fuels, Seth. Now.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Great,” Kendall said. “Rosetta. Carr. It’s been real.”

  She turned and started down the steps, her heels clicking hard like she was imagining stomping through my skull the whole way.

  Rosetta looked at me, apologizing with her eyes. Then she disappeared inside.

  I went after Kendall, trying to think of something I could say to make this up to her. But three steps down, I headed back to Carr, who was watching me with no expression on his face.

  “Can you give these to Rosetta?” I asked, holding out her shoes.

  He took them without responding.

  But then, after I’d made it down a few steps again, he said, “A word of advice, McCoy. Stick with sluts like Kendall. Rosetta’s way too good for trash like you.”

  FRIDAY, OCTOBER 15

  9:47 P.M.

  Six days later. I pulled into the Kenburn Lanes lot, parked in a big hurry, and rushed to get inside. I was late. So late.

  Any other year, I wouldn’t have bothered showing up for the annual bowling shindig on the one game-free Friday night of Kenburn High’s football season. Obviously, I didn’t care about the football bullshit or the big rah-rah get-together. But I was there to see my kinda-girlfriend. Whom I’d kept waiting for almost an hour.

  The nearly full parking lot should have been a clue, but I still hadn’t expected the place to be so packed. Students, teachers, parents milling around. Balloons and crap all over. And the noise. The usual sounds of balls hitting the floor and crashing into pins, and pins slamming against one another, the back wall, and the floor were pretty much drowned out by everyone’s talking, laughing, shrieking, and yelling.

  From the main level, I looked toward the lanes and seating areas below for any sign of Rosetta. No luck right off, but I spotted Brody, Taku, and Xander bowling with a group of chicks, so I headed to them first.

  “Hey, the band’s all here!” Taku called out from where he was standing near the automatic ball return. “Have a seat, Seth, and we’ll add you in for the next game.”

  I shook my head. “I’m just looking for Rosetta. Anyone seen her?”

  “She’s around,” Brody said, glancing up from his bolted-down chair in front of the computer. “I saw her with my sister earlier.”

  “Cool. Thanks, man.”

  I started to leave, but Xander tugged the back of my jacket to stop me. “We were talking about adding a rehearsal Sunday night. Can you make it?”

  “Sure.”

  “And while we’re on that subject,” Xander said, turning back to the girls and raising his voice, “you’re all coming out to see us next Saturday night, right?”

  “See you where?” one of them asked.

  Xander clutched his chest all dramatic. “Did you hear that? She doesn’t know what I’m talking about!”

  Brody gave him a hard look. We were confirmed to play the show in exactly one week, and the closer it got, the pissier Brody was becoming.

  “What?” Xander laughed, clearly not quite picking up on the seriousness of Brody’s hate vibes. “All I’m saying is that if someone I know would get around to making those flyers like he keeps saying he’s going to do, Megan here would alre
ady know that Scratching at the Eight Ball has a gig on Sat—”

  “Shut up, Xander,” Brody interrupted. “Give it a rest or we’re going to call the whole thing off.”

  Right then I spotted Vicki several lanes away. This was as good a time as any to bail, so I did. When I got close, I saw that Vicki was taking a bow after having lobbed her ball into the gutter. Pete and a bunch of the football crowd were laughing with her, but Rosetta was nowhere to be seen.

  “I’m giving up on that stupid ball and getting a new one!” Vicki announced.

  “Oh, sure,” said Pete. “Blame the ball.”

  I’d never been Pete’s biggest fan, but he made me sick now with whatever he was doing to Kendall. I stepped wide to avoid him—and walked straight over to my biggest fan, Vicki, who was heading to a ball rack.

  “Hey, where I can find Rosetta?” I asked.

  Vicki shoved her thumb and two of her fingers into an orange ball and held on to it with her arm hanging loose. “Probably at her house.”

  “Nice try,” I said. “Brody already told me he saw her with you.”

  Vicki met my gaze. Her expression was one that she hadn’t directed my way for years, if ever: not friendly, but not unfriendly, either. Just neutral, I guess. “That was true like half an hour ago,” she said. “But she’s gone now. Past nine o’clock is late for her.”

  I could tell she wasn’t messing with me.

  And that’s when the disappointment hit. Hard. It had been a stressful week with all the crap I’d had going on with work and the band. Rosetta and I had hung out in the halls at school whenever possible and in IC every day—of course—but the thought of just getting to be with her tonight had been the thing keeping me going all afternoon. All week, even. And I’d missed her by thirty goddamn minutes.

  “Did she say anything before she left?” I asked. “Was she was pissed about me being so late?”

  “She isn’t pissed. Her uncle just said she needed to get home, so she went.”

  A booming voice cut in. “Or maybe Rosetta’s avoiding you, McCoy. You ever think of that?”