Falling by Design

by Lind, Valia

  I turn my attention to the teacher.

  It is only high school, and I will be just fine.

  ❧ ❧ ❧

  When I get home, I'm still flying from my afternoon accomplishment.

  I have no doubt I'm nowhere near being done with Tamela, but for this one moment, I'm the winner and it feels good. My little display of bravery has been the talk of the school for the rest of the day. At lunch, I was almost tackled by Chance as he rushed over to ask me if it was true I punched Tamela in the nose or if I bit her in the arm instead? Seriously, the rumor mill at my school should have its own show. Dakota is in gossip heaven. It's going to be a while before this dies down, at least in Dakota and Chance's world.

  I walk into the kitchen, halting in my tracks. My dad stands at the counter, speaking in hushed tones with my mom. When I round the corner, both of them stop and look at me. I know that look. I'm in trouble.

  "What are you wearing?" are the first words out of my dad's mouth. I so do not want to do this right now. After setting my bag on the table, I head for the refrigerator.

  "Clothes, Dad."

  "Where did you get them?"

  "I made this outfit." I hear the almost constant growl that escapes as he tries to stay calm.

  "I thought we agreed that you'll stop playing around and focus on your college essays?"

  "No, Dad. We definitely didn't agree." I move past him, a glass of apple juice in one hand as I reach for my bag with the other.

  "Brooklynn, you need to focus on your future. You need—"

  "This is me focusing on my future. I made this, Dad." I grab the material from the front, thrusting it in his direction. "Can you please just look at it? I made it. The whole outfit."

  "Just because you made one outfit doesn't mean you've been successful. Look, I received a call from Paige today who talked to one of her friends in the admission office and he said you haven't sent in your paperwork yet. You're going to miss all the deadlines if you don't start being responsible."

  I stand in front of my parents. I love them, I really do, but talking to them is completely pointless. The sad thing is that they truly think pushing me in the direction Paige went will make me successful. It's as if they wear one color glasses, refusing to change it up and see things differently. I take a deep breath, tired of fighting with the two people who should support me unconditionally.

  "You're never going to hear a word I say." It's not a question, yet Dad opens his mouth once more. I hold up a hand, shaking my head a little. "Please, don't. I heard you loud and clear. I'll send the essays in."

  I walk away, leaving them starting at me. Maybe I'm not as brave as I thought I was. If I was braver I would make them listen, shout my dreams and plans until they have no choice but to accept them. Yet, I want my parents support so fully I can't bring myself to look at their disappointed faces for one more minute. Maybe one day, they'll look at me and see how happy the world of fashion makes me. Maybe they'll realize how much my heart is in it. But that day is not today. And I'm just too emotionally spent to have the same fight again.

  I step into my room, shutting the door behind me, before reaching for my journal. It's been a while since I've worked on the pages. There are sketches of what I want to do, the materials I'd like to use written on the side. I pull out my supplies, spreading them on my desk and open to the page with my newest quotes.

  "If you can dream it, you can do it. Always remember that this whole thing was started with a dream and a mouse."

  I smile to myself a little at the words of Walt Disney. This quote was one of the ones Grayson shared with me when he first found out about my small quote obsession.

  I miss him. I miss his voice, his random quirkiness, his smile. I can't even begin to know what I'm going to say to him in two days. The fashion show will be a hit, I know it, and it's going to be a hit because of Grayson. I owe him so much.

  As I reach for my gesso, I pick my journal up and a piece of paper flutters out from between the pages. I don't remember putting it there or even seeing it before. Carefully, I reach for it and when I see my name written in Grayson's handwriting, my heart drops. Almost afraid to read it, but unable to do anything else, I open the letter.

  Hi Brooklynn,

  I'm not exactly sure why I'm writing this. I guess I just wanted you to not hate me, if only this once. I heard what Tamela has been saying about us and I wanted to set the record straight. She might have come over to my house, but she never made it past the threshold. We didn't go to the formal together, and we definitely didn't kiss. I'm not sure why she dislikes you, but she found the perfect weapon to make your life miserable, and that weapon is me.

  Like I said, I'm not sure why I felt the need to tell you, but I hope you believe me. I meant what I said, you know. About wanting you to find your happiness. About finding a way to let someone in. I want you to have the best life, Brooklynn. You deserve all the joy in the world. And then some.

  And never stop creating. You are an amazingly talented individual. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

  I guess that's it then. That's what I wanted to say. Just be you, Brooklynn. You're perfect, just the way you are.

  - Grayson

  I trace over the words with my fingers, memorizing the strokes. The tears come slowly, running down my cheeks as I sit frozen in place. I’ve jumped to conclusions. I’ve allowed my own insecurities rule my feelings. I broke the possibilities of a future between us. Maybe he'll never talk to me again, but there's one thing I can do. I can give him the best shot with his portfolio.

  It's the least I can do after he's done so much for me.

  THIRTY - EIGHT

  Keep the dream alive; Hit the snooze button. - Author Unknown

  "What if they hate everything?" I ask Dakota and Paige for what seems like the hundredth time.

  It's the night of the fashion show and if I wasn't an emotional wreck before, I've officially reached a whole new high. Five girls agreed to be part of the show, which is more than I anticipated, however, it doesn’t calm my racing heart as I double check their ensembles.

  "Brooklynn, chill or I'll have to go find you some Xanax. I'm sure someone out there has an extra pill." I glare at her, before turning back to zip up a shirt.

  "Seriously, sister," Paige calls from the other side of the dress rack. "You take freaking out to a whole new level." I scrunch up my face at them, but there is lightness in my heart now. Paige and I have been trying to work on our relationship bit by bit. It's a process. We haven't talked in ages, but we're taking the steps in the right direction. Last night, I filled her in on what's been going on with Grayson and today, she's here to keep me in check. There is no way Dakota could handle the job on her own. Her words, not mine.

  "I'm fine. I'm chill. I'm—Tasha where is the scarf I gave you?" Dakota follows close behind as I march across the small tent set up behind the stage.

  "Right, you're totally mellow. You're so mellow you're going to float off into the skies."

  "Dakota..." I finally find the scarf, and turn to tie it over Tasha's hips. "I'm fine. Excited but fine." I step back to look at my handiwork and I can't help but smile. Tasha's whole outfit is perfect.

  "Great!" I feel myself being pulled away. "Come look at all the people I got you!" Dakota shoves the curtains open and I almost gasp at the crowd sitting outside in the folding chairs. I've been avoiding looking out, afraid Dakota was kind when she said a good number showed up, but now I see she might have underestimated.

  "Holy goodness, how did you get so many people here?" I glance at her but all I get is a smug grin.

  "Hello, I'm the queen of the social world. You told me you wanted a crowd, I got you a crowd."

  "Maybe I'll take that Xanax now," I say turning away and focusing on my breathing.

  "Brook." Paige grabs me by the shoulders as I work on getting my heart rate down, "You're going to be great. Everyone is going to love you, so please, stop freaking out before the whole thing is ruined by some hot
firemen coming to hose you down and carry you off in their big red truck." Her absurd statement has the desired calming effect and I kind of want to hug her, but there is no time.

  "I need—"

  "What you need to do is get changed. It's thirty minutes before the show." I glance down at myself, realizing for the first time I'm still in t-shirt and jeans.

  "Right, but first I need to check on Chance."

  "Grayson took care of it." At the mention of his name, my heart beats a little faster in awareness. I saw him briefly during the set up, helping Chance on the other side of the platform. I only received a small nod of acknowledgment but should I really expect anything more?

  "Fine, I think I have my—"

  "Oh no," Paige grabs my arm. "You're not wearing what you brought. You're wearing what Dakota brought." She pulls me toward the back of the tent, stopping in front of a long garment bag. I glance at Paige, then Dakota. The look on my best friend's face is pure mischief and I'm almost afraid to see what's inside.

  "Tada!" She announces, thrusting the open bag my way.

  "Dakota," I grumble because there in all my creative beauty is the dress I made for the Winter Formal. The one I never wore. "I'm not wearing that."

  "Yes, you are. Please stop arguing. Paige has to fix your makeup and hair and we only have twenty-eight minutes left."

  "What's wrong with my makeup?"

  "Get!"

  Because I am a mature individual, I stick my tongue out at her before disappearing into one of the changing rooms we've set up. I stare at the beautiful dress in my hands, my heart heavy. It's probably one of the most exquisite things I've ever put together. The soft lavender of the fabric complements my skin tone. The off the shoulder pattern is my favorite for dresses, and so is the sheer overlay I've added to the bodice. I slip it on, feeling the fabric as it molds to my curves. It's elegant and grown up. The dress I created with Grayson in mind.

  I really have to stop thinking like this. I want to talk to him, I want to tell him how sorry I am. But now is not the time.

  I hear Chance's voice from the other side of the curtain, followed by a snarky remark from Dakota and I know I have to leave this small sanctuary before they kill each other.

  "All I'm saying, is that you could be—" Chance's words are cut off as I step out of the changing room. The pure pride I see shining in his eyes makes me almost giddy. Dakota and Paige are no different.

  "Guys, you're doing that staring thing again." I whine a little, fidgeting under their scrutiny.

  "Can't help it," Chance says, "You're one talented lady, Cosmopolitan. And beautiful." he adds as he envelopes me in his arms. Dakota rushes over next, pulling me toward a chair so Paige can fix my makeup while she does the hair. I can see Dakota's trying to contain herself, since squealing is not exactly professional.

  "Brooklynn," my aunt calls, coming up to stand in front of me as the girls continue working their magic. "I'm proud of you. "

  "Thanks, Aunt Evie."

  "I know I don't say this often, but you are a very talented girl. Just look what you've done here." She's the one who always supported me, quietly and from the sidelines, but always there. She's not one to show emotion or to sing praises, but when she does, it's real and true. There are tears in my eyes now and I can't hold them back.

  The girls take a step back from me as she reaches over to hug me. I let her arms wrap around me, so strong and sure.

  "Brooklynn," she continues, pushing me back a bit so she can look into my eyes. "I know you've had it rough with your parents, but they'll come around. They love you. And so do I." She reaches over, wiping an escaped tear running down my cheek. The gesture is too familiar. Aunt Evie looks so much like my mother, yet so different. Her clothes are wilder, her hair, arms, and fingers filled with accessories that make noise when she walks. She's always unique and I love her for that.

  She lets me go so I can resume my place in front of the mirror. Paige and Dakota are by my side in an instant. They start back on my makeup, as Aunt Evie makes her way out of the tent. She stops when she's a few feet in front of me, turning to give me a small smile.

  "You know, Brooklynn, there's a boy out there who looks pretty sharp, walking around, taking pictures. I think you should see what he's all about." Then, with a small wink, she's gone.

  "Well," Dakota says after we recover from that comment. "Go Aunt Evie." We burst out laughing and I can't help thinking how lucky I am to have all these wonderful people in my life.

  When they're done, it's seven minutes till show time. I stand by my models, my hands shaking a little as I make last minute adjustments. I hear a small movement behind me and turn to find Grayson standing there. He looks amazing in his dark suit, cameras and bag slung over his neck and shoulders. He looks right somehow, comfortable and exactly where he’s supposed to be.

  We stand studying each other, as if seeing who we each are for the first time. His gaze roams over every inch of my body, impressing itself on my skin. He always has that effect on me. His eyes are just as piercing as ever, as they finally find mine.

  "You look breathtaking," he almost whispers and I'm sure I'm turning all kinds of red.

  "So do you."

  I hear Chance's voice from outside, signaling for everyone to settle down before making the two minute announcement.

  "I just want—"

  "I was going—" We start at the same time, still glued to our spots. "Go ahead," I quickly say.

  "I wanted to say that I'm very proud of you and everything you've done. They're going to love you." Tears spring to my eyes at the sincerity in his voice and for a second I think he's going to say something else. Yet, he doesn't. "Umm, I got you something." Reaching into his pocket, he produces a little velvet box, thrusting it toward me as if afraid I'll run away before opening it. Our fingers touch briefly as I reach for the object, the whole world standing still around us. When I glance down, my heart seems to explode.

  "Oh it's beautiful," I whisper, pulling out a wraparound leather bracelet. It's simply woven together, with a small charm where the loop is. The charm is a tiny lady in a flowing dress, with a magazine and a purse.

  "Dakota said they're good bracelets, and umm, I wanted you to have something to remember today by. I—"

  "It's perfect." I go to put it on, but his hands stop me.

  "Here, let me."

  He wraps the bracelet around my wrist, his touch like feathers against my skin. We're closer than we've been in weeks, and I'm sure he can hear my heart beating wildly. When he steps away, I have to stop myself from pulling him back in.

  "Thank you," is all I can manage.

  My feelings are lost within me. I stand there, frozen in this moment, memories like photographs imprinting on my heart to cherish later. He watches me, as if waiting for me to say something else, but I can't. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Grayson gives me a small nod and disappears back out to the floor.

  Taking a calming breath, I push down disappointment. Disappointment in myself because I once again let him walk away without saying what I wanted to say. My fingers run over the bracelet, a feeling of empowerment bubbling up inside me. Turning to the girls, I put on my best encouraging smile.

  It's show time.

  ❧ ❧ ❧

  After, I'm exuberant.

  I'm giddy.

  I'm euphoric.

  "I love your designs." I hear once again as another one of the couples that attended my show come by to shake my hand. Everything went wonderfully. People's reception to my designs is more than I could've ever hoped for. Dakota stands next to me, a huge grin on her face as she thanks everyone for coming. Actually, stands is too mellow of a word. She's bouncing up and down, in that one spot.

  Grayson crosses the yard talking to a few guests, his smile easy and charming. He did a fantastic job tonight as well. I could never have ever done anything like this without him. I want to go over and thank him, but a shadow falls over me and I glance up to find my parents.
/>
  "Mom? Dad?" I ask just to make sure I'm not seeing things. My heart is beating like it's about to jump out of my chest. I really don't want to have to deal with their anger. Not right now, not after this. However, as I look at them, Dad takes me by surprise, stepping up to me and folding me in his arms. I'm stiff against him, not knowing how to respond, not used to the gesture anymore. He releases me, placing his hands on my shoulders, before peering down into my shocked face.

  "We are so proud of you," he says and for a second I feel light headed. I hear my mom chuckle from beside me, before Dad hands me over to her. She hugs me just as tightly, stepping back to study my dress.

  "You really are full of surprises."

  I glance over at Dakota, who is just as frozen beside me, staring at my parents as if they've lost their minds. Okay, so at least I know they're actually here and I'm not losing my mind.

  "What are you doing here?" I finally manage, not sure what else to say. I'm mad. I'm excited. I have no idea what I'm feeling.

  "Well, a certain young man came by and told us that we needed to see what our daughter had been up to. Put us in our place just a little bit. He wouldn’t leave until I promised we’d be here and I’m not one to break my promises." Dad states.

  "What?"

  "We're sorry we haven't been listening," Dad says, his expression serious.

  "Why now? Why all of a sudden you're proud of me when I told you all along how important this was for me?" I try to keep my voice low, but the confusion and anger seem to overpower my need to keep quiet. Dad looks away for a moment, taking his time trying to find the right words.

  "Because I'm a selfish man, Brooklynn." That stops whatever else I wanted to say. My dad is not known to admit his shortcomings. I stand, gaping at him as he clears his voice and continues.

  "I want my girls to have an easy and successful life. I don't want you to experience rejection and disappointment. But I guess you did anyway and I'm sorry that came from us. You've told us over and over how important this is, but I'm always so afraid for you I refused to listen."