Free Falling

by Makenzie Smith

  Chapter 33

  So much can happen in a month, in a week, in a day. 24 hours, one single rotation of the Earth, and everything you thought to be true, turns on you. Wally had turned on me. He’d opened me up, convinced me to give into him. He’d made me believe that he wanted my love and devotion, but when he received it, it suddenly became “too much.” In a week, I’d seen him slowly pull further and further away until the tender, affectionate man was gone and a cold, an unfeeling shell stood in his place. In a month, I’d gone from a mopey, emotional wreck to a human being again.

  It’d been exactly 39 days since Wally told me that he didn’t want the responsibility of loving me. That’s what I’d been. A responsibility. A commitment that he couldn’t maintain. As if I was just some scheduled appointment he could no longer keep and all he had to say was Sorry, I’m just too busy. I need to cancel.

  Above all, I felt foolish. I’d trusted him. I’d opened up to him. I thought he was doing the same. It had felt like a two-way street, an equal amount of give and take, but then his skewed mindset, his jaded ideas, turned on us. It’d boiled down to this thought, What do I have to offer you?

  What the fuck did he think this was? The Middle Ages? Did he have to buy me from my parents with an offering of a pig and a sack of wheat? Wally viewed relationships through this distorted lens, either because that’s how he actually saw them or that was how society had told him to. It was strange, in every other aspect of his life, he’d gone against the grain, lived how he saw fit and didn’t give two shits about anyone else’s opinion. Why was this so different? Did he think so little of himself?

  All I’d needed from him was love. That was it. Everything else would have fallen into place if he’d only been willing to try. Since he wasn’t, I couldn’t hold on any longer.

  I stopped myself from thinking of him, because those thoughts always turned on me, too. I’d find myself daydreaming about ways that I could convince him to return to me, to try again. Those were unhealthy thoughts, because I knew, I just knew that if he strolled back into my life, I’d probably take him back. I was too eager to have him again, to go back to what we were. And that was impossible. He’d hurt me. He’d broken my heart and then I’d found him in bed with Nicole, as if he wasn’t fazed by our break up at all. Touching someone else had come easily to him.

  No. What we’d had, or what I thought we’d had, was gone, lost to me. It was beautiful, and I didn’t regret it, but I couldn’t let myself long for it.

  Everyone around me was convinced that I needed to date again. All of them, the young, the old, the married, the single, all of their sage wisdom amounted to that.

  Get back out there!

  Have fun! Date some hot men.

  You’re young! What are you waiting for?

  They were so sure, so adamant, that all I had to do was date a few guys and Wally would be purged from my system that I started believing it too.

  At first, it was awkward. I agreed to several blind dates arranged by either a coworker or my mother. None of them went further than date one.

  Dating sucked. It was awful. You knew within the first few minutes whether anything was there, and then when it wasn’t, you still had to sit through an entire meal and sometimes other activities before going back home to your solitude.

  Leo and Victor were boring. We had nothing to talk about, no common ground to build anything on. By the end of the dates, we knew that neither of us would be calling the other again.

  Caden was a douche and played on his phone the entire time. I doubt more than three sentences were exchanged between us.

  Toby was handsome. Unbelievably handsome. He knew it. He was flirtatious with me and every other woman he came in contact with that night, but it was harmless. He knew how to be charming and used it. Surprisingly, I didn’t mind when he touched my back, leading me out of the restaurant. I willingly held his hand in the theatre, and even considered kissing him, but then he laughed. It distorted his entire face, and came out in barking, long hee-haws. Every time he chuckled all I could imagine was a donkey next to me. I never contacted him again.

  “You’re being too picky,” my mother said.

  “Maybe I just need to be single for a while,” I told her. “I think I’d rather meet someone naturally. All of this setting up and blind dates…I’m over it.”

  Surprisingly, she agreed and the random offers of men who were just so perfect for me ended.

  45 days after Wally, I was at a coffee shop, waiting in line to get a latte. The shop was crowded, and my nerves were worn. I’d squeezed through the mob of people to get my drink and escaped to the patio, wanting to sit and enjoy it in the cool breeze. It had been a rough week. We’d lost two of our dogs. One to old age, the other to illness. It was always hard on me. I hated that they died without ever having a loving home. We did our best to make sure they were comfortable and given plenty of attention, but I knew it wasn’t the same.

  None of the tables were empty. I eyed a few people that were sitting there reading magazines or toying with their laptops, their drinks consumed. I huffed and was turning to leave when someone said, “You can sit here if you’d like.”

  I cut my eyes and saw a handsome man with jet black hair. It was short, slightly spikey. Tattoos covered his arms and one went up his neck. “I mean, I’m not gonna get up, but I don’t mind sharing,” he said.

  I sat down. “Thank you,” I said, and took a sip of my drink. I tried not to look at him, but he was there, right in front of me. What else was I supposed to stare at? The tattoo on his neck was of some type of bird. It had vivid colors, yellow, red. I could only see the top of its head and one of the wings, spanned out, creeping up towards his chin. He was looking out across the patio, but began to smile.

  “You like it?” he asked.

  “Um,” I said nervously, but admitted that I did. “Yes. What is it?”

  He leaned forward and stretched his neck so I could see it better. Without his permission, I took his shirt collar and pulled it down to see more of the bird. “Is that…”

  “A phoenix,” he smiled. It was a nice smile, wide with white teeth and slight dimples.

  The design was so intricate. Swirling lines and abstract shapes. “It’s beautiful,” I said, and touched it with my fingertip. It was an impulse move and I quickly pulled my hand back. “Sorry,” I said.

  “Hey, I’m not gonna complain about a gorgeous woman touching me,” he said.

  He was being playful, but I was on edge. This was the first time a man had peaked any sort of interest for me since Wally. It felt weird. Never mind that this was exactly what I wanted, meeting someone this way—naturally, no outside forces at play.

  I laughed nervously and we went back to pretending not to eye each other. I was tense, my stomach knotting up. It was then that I realized that I wanted him to talk to me. I didn’t want him to leave and then never see him again.

  He finished his drink, a noisy slurp through his straw, almost as though we was telling me, Better make your move before I walk away. I was hesitating, looking at my shoes.

  “Thanks for the company,” he said and got up to go inside. I watched his strong back, a blue t-shirt pulled tight across his broad shoulders. I sighed and looked down at the table. Maybe I just wasn’t ready.

  A piece of paper slid into my line of sight. “Call me,” he said.

  I startled and looked up at him.

  “I’d like it if you did,” he said. Another one of his smiles. So deep and genuine.

  As he walked off, I felt it. A spark. Tiny. But there.

  Chapter 34

  Simon. His name was Simon. Black, slanted script on a napkin. It took me a whole day to contact him, but I did. Nervous and biting my fingernails, I typed the simple words Hey. We met at the coffee shop. Remember me?

  I do! He said. Didn’t get your name though ;)

  Kristen, I told him.

  It felt wrong to engage him when my heart still felt so raw. You need this, I tol
d myself. So I went with it. I flirted with him. I allowed myself to be giddy and excited. It didn’t take him long to ask me out. When I went to bed, a time and place was already established. We were going on our first date the following day.

  I didn’t expect much. I went into it believing that it would be a failure like all the rest. He picked me up in his loud sports car. Black. The tailpipes rumbling angrily in my driveway.

  When I got in the passenger seat, he smiled over at me and my stomach knotted up just a little bit. Simon was one hell of a good looking guy. His skin was tan. His body in shape. His eyes framed with dark lashes.

  His car, a Camaro, was an automatic, freeing his right hand as he drove. Without hesitation, he grabbed mine, and brought our joined hands to his leg, letting them rest there. It made me feel uneasy at first. The gesture was so intimate, something people did when there were emotions or feelings involved. I was tense and wanted to pull away. But his caresses were gentle, and after a few rattled breaths, it felt more natural and I left it there.

  Simon liked blues music and he took me to a quiet bar where one of his favorite bands was playing. We didn’t drink, but ordered food as we listened to them. It was great having the music as a distraction. We didn’t feel the need to continuously talk or fill each other in on our likes, dislikes, whatever. We just enjoyed being out, eating good food, and listening to the music. We didn’t stay until they were finished. Instead, he took me to a park. The same park where Wally’s tree was located. It was well lit and I followed him to a bench in front of the duck pond.

  “What do you think about this?” he asked, motioning a finger between us. “Is this going somewhere?”

  It was a pretty forward question and I didn’t know how to answer. I barely knew him or if I even wanted to. “Uh,” I said, staring at the water’s edge.

  “I’m not trying to put you on the spot,” he said. “It’s just the last few women I’ve gone out with really fucked with my head. I’m not looking for that again. So, just tell me up front.”

  “I barely know you,” I said. “I’ll tell you the truth though. I just came out of a relationship, so I’m still a little uneasy about everything. But so far, I like you. You’re interesting, handsome—”

  “You think I’m handsome,” he said, grinning at me.

  “Yes,” I laughed softly, looking away from him.

  “Good,” he said. “When I saw you on the patio…” He made a sound, a whoosh of air leaving his lips. “I had to talk to you.”

  “I’m glad you did,” I told him honestly.

  “Yeah?” he said.

  I nodded.

  He smiled again. A proud smile, slightly arrogant and a little cocky. He touched my face, cradling my cheek. 47 days after Wally, Simon Fontenot kissed me.

  He used too much tongue, but after a little coaxing he eased up and I felt my body come alive at his touch. This is good, I thought. It means you’re getting over him. It didn’t matter that the entire time Simon’s mouth was on mine, I was thinking of another man.

  Simon really wanted to have sex. Badly. We’d only been seeing each other for about two weeks, but he kept hinting at it. There was nothing serious about our relationship and we didn’t even speak to each other every day. Since we met, we’d only been on four dates. But his texts were getting more and more sensual, all of them carrying just a hint of perverted insinuation.

  If I was honest with myself, I liked him. A lot. I was even sexually attracted to him. I wanted him, but there hadn’t been an opportunity for us to engage in anything like that since we met. So far, he hadn’t been to my house.

  But that was about to change.

  In ten minutes, he was going to walk through my door and we were going to “watch a movie.” He wasn’t dumb and neither was I. How much of that movie were we actually going to watch? Maybe 30 minutes, just to say that we did try.

  I was nervous. Some of that from excitement, some of that from anxiety. I hadn’t heard a thing about Wally in weeks. What was he doing? Who was he doing it with? I could ask Sheila. She seemed privy to his whereabouts, but I didn’t. There was something in her eyes that I didn’t trust, a secret vanity. She enjoyed telling Wally how tore up I was after our break up. I think it made her feel better about herself. So I had no idea what he was up to. Being around Simon, helped with that. I was thinking of Wally less and less.

  He arrived and I put the movie in. A war film. One that Wally probably would have enjoyed. It wasn’t old like the ones he loved so much, but it had just enough of that feel. A deep quiet, unusual camera angles. The dialogue was beautifully written, the scenes expertly shot. When I thought, Wally would adore this. I bet there are tons of things I’m missing that he could tell me about, I felt Simon’s tongue graze my neck. I tensed at first, not liking the sudden intrusion, but as his lips moved and his hands roamed, I felt my eyes grow heavy and I gave into it.

  Before long, I was on my back, Simon above me, moving as if we were already naked. He was hard as a rock, pressing into my thigh, but his hands were just a little too frantic, grasping too aggressively. I tried to calm him with my touches, but he was lost to his lust. In a rush, he removed my pants, underwear and all. My legs automatically locked. This was too much. Too fast.

  Simon noticed my apprehension and finally slowed. He was more gentle, less chaotic. Eventually, my legs spread for him and he slid a finger inside.

  His moan at my ear was loud and hot, making my skin feel sticky. I wasn’t sure I was up for this. Simon pulled back and smirked down at me as his finger moved. It felt good and before long, I wanted him again.

  Slowly, he brought his face between my legs. “God, this pussy is perfect,” he said. Coming from someone else, that might have been a turn on, but he’d said the words angrily, biting them out, as if it was an accusation. Before I had time to stop him, his mouth was on me. Too much tongue. Too rough. In the wrong spot. Just wrong all around.

  This was nothing like how it had been with Wally. Slow, soft kisses. A progressive build. Bringing me gradually higher and higher. He knew, without me telling him, just how to touch me, just how to kiss me, when I wanted more, when I needed less.

  Abruptly, I sat up and pushed Simon’s head away. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I just don’t think I’m ready for this.”

  He was out of breath, and looked angry for the tiniest hint of a second, but then it faded. “It’s cool,” he said, wiping off his mouth. “It’s cool. No rush, baby.”

  He went to use my bathroom, and I thought that when he came back he’d want to leave. He didn’t. He was all smiles, normal, relaxed.

  We finished the movie with his hand resting on my thigh, and my arm curled through his. I didn’t know what to do here. It felt as though I should walk away again. Leave him behind like I usually did. No excuse. No reason. Just end it. That’s what I wanted to do. It was easier. We weren’t dating after all. Not really. We were just two people seeing where things might lead.

  But that was the old me. I didn’t want to add another bruised lover to my belt, especially since I had been on the receiving end of that torment. The credits were rolling. You need to do it now, I thought. Just tell him that you aren’t ready for this.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, beating me to it.

  “For what?” I asked.

  “Earlier,” he said. “I was just too excited. I could tell you were hesitant, and I shouldn’t have kept pushing you. Look, I’m not after anything serious or any shit like that, but you’re cool. I like hanging out with you.” He huffed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going out of town for a job this week. Maybe we should just not talk to each other while I’m gone. When I come back, I’ll call you. If you still want to see me, we can hang out. Cool?”

  He posed the proposition in such a way that it felt awkward to say anything but, “Sounds good.” So that’s what I said. He smiled, kissed me on the forehead, and left.

  Chapter 35

  Simon stayed true to his word. For an entire w
eek we didn’t speak to each other. I didn’t miss him, not really. It was more like I felt his absence. Since we’d met I had gotten used to him being around. He made me feel less lonely. But there was nothing specific that I longed for. Not his touch. Not his voice. Not his laugh. Maybe those things would come with time. Maybe they never would.

  When our week was up, he called. It was a Friday night and he wanted me to go out with him. I couldn’t decide if I should. In a way, he was giving me an out. If I didn’t go, that would be it for us. I stood in my bathroom and looked in the mirror.

  My face looked thin, my eyes slightly dull. I couldn’t keep hiding myself away hoping that this pain would dissipate. No. I needed to do something about it. The best way to keep my mind off Wally was to stay busy. I should go out with Simon. I should just have fun. If it went somewhere, it did. If it didn’t, oh well.

  He seemed pleased that I wanted to go, and was picking me up in an hour. We were going to a bar. Not really what I had in mind, but I could make it work.

  When I got in his car, he gave me a soft kiss on the mouth. “Missed you, babe,” he said, grinning. I couldn’t tell him that I missed him too, so I only smiled.

  We pulled into the parking lot at Burns and my stomach knotted and twisted, pulling tight. “Uh, why are we going here?” I asked him.

  “You been here before?” he asked, stepping out of the car and I joined him.

  “Yeah,” I said. “But it’s been a while.”

  “Me too,” he said. “Some of my friends are here tonight, though. Figured it could be fun. Is that cool?”

  Was it? What if Wally was here? I hadn’t seen him since that day at his house, the day I saw him with Nicole. We hadn’t spoken since then either. Was I ready to see him? You just have to be, I told myself.

  I took a breath and followed behind Simon. Inside, we made our way over to his friends, and I eyed the room, peering into every corner, analyzing the back of every head. No Wally. He wasn’t there. I expelled a nervous breath, and put on a smile as I met his friends.