Fall Into Forever

by Beth Hyland

  “Ha. That’s totally something she’d say, too.” I finish copying his notes and hand them back. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem.”

  “So…are you a Trekkie?” I ask. “Or was it on sale?”

  “Ah. The notebook.” He looks a little embarrassed. “My stepmom put it in my Christmas stocking. I couldn’t find a plain one when the quarter started, so I started using this and now I’m stuck. How about you?”

  “A Star Trek fan?” I shake my head, slinging my messenger bag over my shoulder. “Not really. My roommate is, though. I just saw the last movie with her because Chris Pine is hot.”

  “Sounds like I need to meet this roommate of yours,” he says. “I’m Zach, by the way, but my friends call me Touch.”

  I narrow my eyes and look at him again. I know that name. “Touch Montgomery? The football player?”

  “I hope there aren’t too many guys here with that nickname.”

  I smile and try not to look at his cast. The running back suffered a horrible injury in the last game of the season, shortly before winter break, where his leg bent in a spot not designed for bending. I’m not sure if mentioning what happened would be tacky or not. I decide not to ask just yet. “How’d you get that nickname? Or do I want to know?”

  He pushes his wheelchair into the aisle. “Back in high school, my coach said, if you can touch the ball, you’d better be able to catch it. And I usually did.”

  “Makes perfect sense.” I glance at his cast again and decide it would be weird if I didn’t at least mention the elephant in the room. “Sorry about your leg. That must’ve hurt like shit.”

  I remember where I was when it happened, too. Away games are shown on the Jumbotron in the stadium, but because it was raining so hard, we all stayed in the dorm and watched it downstairs in the TV room. If we beat UCLA, PSU was going to a bowl game. If not, then the season was over. Deena and I had been texting friendly barbs throughout the whole game.

  We’re going to kick your ass.

  You may want to check the scoreboard, babe. Or get some glasses. Or take math again. A bigger number means that we’re kicking yours.

  When Touch got hurt, we all screamed and several of the girls burst out in tears.

  Deena texted, OMG Ivy. That’s awful!! Everyone down here hopes he’s okay.

  We were glad when we heard it was just his leg. Those bones can heal. Heads and spines might not.

  “Just for a split second,” Touch says, yanking me back into the conversation. “But then everything went numb when I passed out. I don’t remember anything about the ride to the hospital or the surgery until I woke up with my leg in this cast.”

  Sounds familiar. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.” I want to ask him about his chances to play again, but decide it’s too rude. I’m sure he gets asked that question a lot and is probably sick of it.

  As if he can read my thoughts, he says, “Thanks. I’m hoping the rehab goes well and that I’ll be back next season.”

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

  He’s got a great smile, he’s really smart, and he’s really hot. Technically, he’s the kind of guy I should be attracted to, but for some reason, all I can think about is that he and Cassidy would make a really cute couple. After they’re done making out, they could organize each other’s closets.

  As we exit the lecture hall, I’m hit with the smell of something delicious. Pizza maybe. My stomach growls. I immediately clamp my hand over it.

  Then his growls, too. “Like a yawn, it’s catchy.”

  I glance at the time on my phone. I’m meeting Cassidy for lunch in exactly ten minutes and the Commons is exactly eleven minutes away.

  “Want to get a bite to eat? I’m having lunch with my roommate. If you don’t have class now—which I’m assuming you don’t since you’d be late, and being an overachiever, that would never happen—do you want to join us?”

  He pushes the button for the automatic doors. They swing open and we head outside.

  “I was supposed to meet some friends to study, but I haven’t heard back from any of them yet.” He grabs his phone. “Let me check.”

  “Want me to push you down the ramp while you try to get ahold of them?” I ask.

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  The ramp juts off to the left, then zigzags back again. For some reason, I look up as I push the chair around the far bend.

  And that’s when I see him. Next to the science building.

  Dressed all in black, with his guitar slung behind him, Jon is climbing onto his motorcycle. Holy hell, he looks good. Too good. I wrench my gaze away. I hate to admit it even to myself, but I miss him. It’s been almost three weeks since I went to Stella’s with him. Has he been back to visit her? Would it be weird for me to follow up with her about the garage sale if Jon and I aren’t really friends? My heart feels suddenly heavy.

  “They’re not texting me back,” Touch says, interrupting my thoughts. “Assholes. So I guess that means I’m free for lunch.”

  “Yay for asshole friends. Want me to keep pushing you? We’re going clear over to the Commons.”

  He puts his hands behind his head and pretends to be in a recliner. “Onward,” he says.

  I laugh. God, this is exactly what Cassidy would be doing if she had a broken leg and was in a wheelchair. Grasping the handles, I start to push the chair again, and although I don’t mean to, my gaze slides in Jon’s direction.

  My heart stutters. He’s looking at me. Us. Is he scowling?

  He lowers his sunglasses, but before he can turn around and dismiss me, I turn first and beat him to it. I can almost feel his eyes boring into my back. It feels good to be walking away from him. Yes, I’m shallow that way.

  “Cassidy loves sci-fi stuff too,” I tell Touch, trying to keep my mind off Jon. “But unlike you, she’s not afraid to admit it.”

  Touch puts a hand to his heart. “I’m deeply hurt and offended by that assertion. Just don’t tell me she’s got your room plastered with Lord of the Rings posters, because that would be…weird, even for me.”

  “No, nothing like that. Looking at her, you’d never guess she’s into that stuff, but if a movie’s got aliens, space ships, an otherworldly setting, magic, and/or monsters, she’s all over it. She did tell me once, though, that she had a picture of Captain Picard on her bedroom ceiling when she was, like, eight.”

  Touch and I are late getting over to the Commons. The place is packed, so it takes us forever to get through the line. I text Cassidy to find out where she’s sitting.

  Finally, she texts back. You can get me a refill on my pop. I can’t get up or I’ll lose the table.

  My punishment for being late?

  Except that I’m typing too fast and it autocorrects to penis head. Only after I press Send do I see my mistake.

  I snort out a laugh. Touch glances over. He’s trying to reach the straws but the only ones left are in the back, behind the mustard packets. I grab one and hand it to him.

  HAHAHAHA, Cassidy texts back.

  “Thanks,” he says. “I need longer arms.”

  “No problem.”

  With a tray on his lap, Touch follows me to where Cassidy is sitting at a table near the windows, her back to us.

  “Hey Cassidy, this is—”

  She holds up her empty glass, not bothering to turn around. Grabbing it from her, I clear my throat to get her attention. Let’s try this again. “Cassidy, this is Touch. Touch, this is my slightly anal roommate, Cassidy. Talk amongst yourselves. I’ll be right back.”

  “I…I…uh…hi.” The expression on her face is priceless.

  As I head to the pop machine, my thoughts circle back to Jon. I’ve debated whether to try studying in the science library in hopes of running into him, but I decided that would be too stalkerish and weird. I’m so lost in my thoughts that I walk straight past the pop machine and have to turn around.

  When I get back to the table, Cassidy and Touch a
re having a deep discussion about something science fiction–related. One look at how she’s twisting her hair, leaning toward him, and smiling into those dark eyes of his, and I know she totally forgives me.

  chapter thirteen

  Life sucks, but in a beautiful kind of way.

  ~ Axl Rose

  Ivy

  I’m in my dorm room, sitting on my bed with my headphones on and the door open. Since Cassidy is gone again this weekend and no one else is doing anything exciting, I decided to stay in tonight. I can’t remember who told me (it sure wasn’t Jon), but he’s taking over the Friday night radio spot again. I pull up the KREX website and hit the live-stream button. After a commercial for a local pizza place, the show starts with a really cool acoustic guitar jam.

  “This is Jon Priestly on KREX filling in for Alice Chapparo.” The voice in my ear is smooth and hypnotic, like melted gourmet chocolate that you drizzle over ice cream. Sighing softly, I close my eyes and let his words become a part of me.

  We could’ve been really good together.

  Jon continues his intro. “Some interesting new music came in this week for You Be The Judge. That’s where you text your votes or tell me in the chat room, and at the end of the hour, the winner is crowned the Parishioners’ Fave. We’ve also got a new track from Money Penny Riot and an oldie from Pearl Jam. Thanks for spending your Friday night with me. And if you’re missing your fix of cool jazz, Alice will be back next week. This is Jon Priestly and church is now in session.”

  My burst of laughter echoes loudly inside my room. I glance at the open door and hope no one out there heard me. Now I get the church references. The shirts. The jokes. His last name. God, I can be so dense sometimes.

  He starts in right away playing some new music from a band out of LA. Wonder if Deena has heard of them. I can’t decide if I like them or not. They’ve got a weird sound, like Gotye’s “Somebody That I Used To Know,” the kind where you can’t tell if it’s cool because it’s unique or if it’s just really annoying.

  Careful not to pull off my headphones, I lean over the end of my bed and grab a pencil and a fresh pad of paper from my desk. I don’t know about you, but I can’t start a new project with a half-used notebook. I’ve got a paper due next week in Comparative Lit, comparing and contrasting two young adult dystopian novels: Battle Royale and The Hunger Games. I’ve read The Hunger Games, but not Battle Royale. The paperback from the library is worn and dog-eared. I open the book and start reading.

  I haven’t even gotten past the first page when Bryce pokes his head into my room. He’s the Resident Aid for our floor and lives in the studio apartment at the end of the hall. He lets Cassidy and me use his microwave to make popcorn when we watch Vampire Diaries, otherwise, we’d have to go all the way downstairs to the kitchen. Seeing that I’ve got headphones on, he waves and turns to leave.

  “Hold up.” I pull them from the jack so the music is now coming out of the computer speakers. “What’s up, Bryce?”

  “You studying?” He’s got a girl with him.

  “I am. And listening to KREX. What’s up?”

  Jon is introducing another song.

  “Priestly’s on tonight,” he says. “That’s cool.”

  Is there a person on campus who doesn’t know who Jon is?

  Bryce introduces me to his friend Holly, a girl with a velvety dark complexion, a thick ponytail of braided cornrows, and beautiful gray eyes. Turns out she’s shadowing him because she’s thinking about being an RA next year. The applications are due next month.

  “I don’t know, Holly,” I say. “We’re pretty wild here in Kefner Hall. Bryce is always busting our parties and shutting down our fun.” She looks confused, as if she can’t decide whether to believe me or not. “I’m just kidding. Things are usually pretty quiet.” As if to prove me wrong, a loud thump thump of music starts up down the hall. “Except for Viva la Vaughn. He’s got a disco ball underneath his lofted bed and probably has people in there now.”

  “Is Cassidy gone this weekend?” Bryce asks, looking around. “Again?”

  She told me her mom and stepdad might be getting a divorce, so she’s been going home a lot. I still wonder if it has something to do with Will. So far, she and Touch haven’t gone out yet, despite my best intentions to hook them up. “Yeah, she’ll be back late Sunday night.”

  “We’re going to watch a movie, if you want to come down and hang out.”

  “Which one got voted in?” Every month, students vote on what movies will be available for streaming on PSU Net. There are usually about ten to choose from. The one that gets the most votes is the one that stays up all month. “I haven’t been paying attention.”

  Bryce frowns and looks to Holly. “I can’t remember. Do you know?”

  “Going old-school this month,” she says. “Terminator 2. Not really my cup of tea, but whatever.”

  My throat tightens. I remember the conversation Jon and I had about that movie, where he claimed I was quoting its theme. He mentioned we should watch it together sometime.

  “Thanks for the invite, but I’ve got a lot of reading I need to do by Monday. I think I’ll just stay here.”

  After they leave, I put on my headphones again, lean back against my headboard, and close my eyes. I listen to a few songs and then Jon is on the air again, talking about the zombie race that Dani mentioned. The race benefits a local cancer charity. He doesn’t say if entries are closed yet or not.

  I wake up my computer and go to the KREX website, but I can’t find the link to the race. The chat window is located on the bottom right corner of the page. I watch the scrolling conversations. From what I can tell, there are seven or eight other people in the chat room besides Jon_KREX.

  My fingers hover over the keys. Before I change my mind, I click the sign-in button and choose a screen name.

  IOTR: Is the race still open to entries?

  I watch the box. It takes him precisely two seconds to reply.

  Jon_KREX: Welcome IOTR! Yes, it’s still open. Hold on. Let me get you the link.

  He posts it a moment later.

  IOTR: Cool. Thanks.

  A few other people in the chat room thank him also.

  Jon_KREX: RU a runner?

  IOTR: Yep.

  Jon_KREX: Good! Cuz you know what rule number one is, don’t you?

  I laugh. He’s quoting Zombieland.

  IOTR: Cardio.

  Jon_KREX: Exactly.

  Others chime in and pretty soon everyone in the chat room is talking about the double tap and Woody Harrelson’s quest for Twinkies. Meanwhile, Jon introduces another song, so he’s not participating in the conversation. Someone named Church_Lady mentions Terminator 2, and suddenly they’re all quoting Arnold lines.

  Church_Lady: Have you seen it, IOTR?

  IOTR: Nope.

  Church_Lady: U totally need 2 watch. It’s on PSU Net all month.

  IOTR: That’s what I hear.

  I double-check that Jon’s still not in the chat room. His last comment has already scrolled off the page. The song ends and now he’s back on the air talking about some band in Seattle.

  IOTR: A friend told me I should watch it.

  Church_Lady: U definitely should! It’s my fave of all of them.

  Viva la Vaughn’s music is loud. I can hear it even though I’ve got headphones on. I get up to close my door and step into my overflowing hamper, scattering dirty clothes on the floor. Oh yeah, I was going to do laundry tonight.

  Friday and Saturday nights are the best times to wash clothes because you can usually get a washer and you don’t have to wait for a dryer. In case you’re wondering when the worst time is, that would be Sunday afternoon. Never do laundry in the dorms on a Sunday afternoon. You’ll spend waaaay too much time down there waiting for a spot. And if your clothes are hanging out in the washer for more than, like, five minutes after they’re done, someone will plop them on the center table between the washers and dryers. Meaning everyone who comes in will get a
peek at your wet underwear.

  I pick up the clothes, grab my detergent pods, and as I turn to go to the laundry room, my computer beeps. I haven’t heard that notification sound before. I set down the hamper and look at the screen. Someone from the KREX chat room has side-messaged me.

  When I click open the private window, my breath catches in my throat.

  Jon_KREX: Ivy is that you?

  How did he figure that out? Was I that obvious? Oh God, he’s not thinking I’m stalking him, is he? I wipe my hands on my pajama bottoms before I type out a reply.

  IOTR: Um, yeah.

  Jon_KREX: Ivy On The Roof. Clever.

  Obviously, not clever enough.

  IOTR: Thx for the link about the zombie run.

  Being an emoji addict, I have to stop myself from including a smiley-face.

  Jon_KREX: NP

  I’m not sure whether to head down to the laundry room now or continue the conversation. Maybe that’s all he intended to say.

  IOTR: Good show tonight. Good music.

  Jon_KREX: Thx

  I wait for a moment, but he doesn’t type anything more. Okay then. I can take a hint.

  IOTR: Talk to you later.

  Jon_KREX: Going out?

  Wow, that was a fast reply.

  IOTR: Nope. C is gone so I’m studying for a test on Monday. And doing laundry.

  I want to ask what he’s been up to. Tell him that I miss him and wish he could come over. When he doesn’t answer right away, I decide not to wait.

  The extraordinarily beautiful laundry room (I’m saying that facetiously, because the cement walls are painted this really gross green color and it’s got a low, claustrophobic ceiling) is located in the basement, along with some storage rooms where the housing department keeps extra furniture. Bike storage is down here, too.

  A couple of the washers and dryers are in use, but there are plenty of empty ones. Two is my lucky number, so I lift the lid of the second one from the door and dump in my whites. In the next one go my darks. A detergent pod in each and I’m good to go. I like that we don’t have to pay. Guess they include the cost of doing laundry in the housing bill each quarter.

  As I exit the laundry room and head for the stairs, an out-of-place sound draws my attention. I hesitate. It’s a scuffling, scratching sound, like an animal. Rats? Or could it be something banging around in one of the dryers?