Even If I Fall

by Abigail Johnson

  CHAPTER 47

  I’m the one who hesitates at our porch once Laura and I get home after dropping Maggie off and saying goodbye—however temporarily—to Heath. Laura halts at the top step, looking back to see I haven’t even started the first.

  “Brooke.” My name isn’t a question. She knows why I’m hesitating, but she’s urging me on all the same. “No more secrets.”

  It’s what we promised each other driving home. Heath was my last one, and she took it so much better than I expected her to. I owe a lot of that to Heath, for the kindness he showed her even after what I’d just told him. I also owed Maggie. She filled Laura in on how Heath and I fell into each other, how it was strange and not strange at all that we shifted from the connection our brothers foisted on us—one full of anger on his part and guilt on mine—to one of our own making; one we thought no one in our small town or smaller houses could ever condone. And how that blew up in our faces. Heath and I haven’t talked about how our families are going to handle the idea of the two of us together, but I know he’s right; the crime isn’t ours and no one, let alone our families, should punish either of us as though it were.

  I’m not expecting to win my parents over easily, and not just about Heath, but when Laura offers me her hand, I take it.

  There’s no machinery whirring in the basement when we walk inside. I guess that Dad’s efforts to distract Mom have run their course, or else he’s as anxious to hear what came from my meeting with Jason as she is.

  They’re together at the dining room table—the two of them, not Uncle Mike—and Dad stands when he sees us. I’m not entirely sure if Laura is up for participating in this conversation with me or not, and I can’t force her. I let go of her hand and approach the table, more relieved than I can express when Laura matches my steps rather than retreating upstairs.

  Mom is holding a mug, watching us. She doesn’t say anything, but her grip on the mug is causing the muscles in her arms to flex to the point that I worry she might shatter the ceramic. Dad must have a similar concern, because he slides the mug free and replaces it with his own much less breakable hand and returns to his seat beside her.

  Then there’s no more delay.

  “He’s fine, Mom, Jason’s fine.”

  Her grip on Dad’s hand doesn’t lessen, and her knuckles are still bone white.

  “And so is Brooke,” Laura says from my right.

  Then, only then, does she loosen her hold. Watching it, I feel an invisible fist relax around my heart, one that I only just now realize has been slowly clenching tighter and tighter since Jason’s arrest. I swallow to push down a sudden thickness in my throat. I’ve always known Mom loves me, and I understood that Jason’s situation would demand more of her attention, consume her heart even as it filled it with pain. I never thought I resented or felt slighted by that, but I have. I’ve had to be the strong one, the one who holds on when everyone else is letting go. The one not allowed to fall, not allowed to falter or hide. The one who was expected to wake up every Saturday morning and visit a prison not always because I wanted to see my brother, but because I couldn’t let Mom go alone. I came home today thinking that’s all she’d be able to care about—whether or not Jason was okay, whether or not I was going to keep visiting him so that, in her mind, he’d stay okay.

  I didn’t think there’d be anything else left.

  Mom pushes back her chair, rounding the table to my side. My face crumbles as she reaches me.

  And I reach back, realizing that while her love and attention may have tipped disproportionately toward Jason, I’ve never lost it and I never will. Nobody can cry like my mom, but I give her a run for her money today. The truth is appalling—hide in the garage to cry, sob in the shower and weep with her spouse at night unbearable. And not just what Jason did. It’s what we’ve all done this year as a result—hide and ignore and pretend. It feels good to be held by her though, to shore myself up for what comes next. Because things have to change. Laura and I have already started, and the pain is so much more bearable when we carry it together.

  “There’s something I want to tell you about,” I say to Mom and Dad after she’s reclaimed the seat next to him. “Someone I want to tell you about. And please hear me out before you react.”

  They both go painfully still and Laura nods at me to go on.

  “I’ve been lying to you,” I say, and the admission makes me want to shrink in my seat but I know I can’t. “I’ve been seeing Heath Gaines.”

  Mom’s hands jerk around Dad’s and he seems to stop breathing. “Why?” she asks. “Why would you do that?”

  “I didn’t do it to hurt you.” I shift my glance to include Dad too. “Any of you. I needed to talk to someone about what things are like now, and the last time I tried talking with you...you sat right in that chair and told me never to mention Calvin’s family ever again.” Mom winces, but I have to keep going. “I could never pretend the way you all needed me to.” I focus on Mom. “That he was away for a little while.” I shift to Dad. “Gone forever.” And lastly I turn to Laura and squeeze her hand under the table. “Or never was. I know we were all doing the only thing we could, and I understand why, but I couldn’t. And Heath...” Mom’s wince is smaller when I say his name this time, but still there. “He was going through his own issues with his family, and we didn’t start out knowing we’d end up helping each other at all, but we did.”

  “He—” Mom clears her throat and tries again. “He let you talk about your brother with him?”

  “I didn’t try at first. It was more that we talked about what things are like now.” I’d briefly mentioned my nightmares during our last family session with Pastor Hamilton, but I didn’t want to cause more of Mom’s silent tears in this moment, so I say only that Heath has trouble sleeping too. “It’s hard for him with people in town too, except it’s pity in his case, not...” I don’t want to give a word to the way I’m often treated in town. “Anyway it’s different but it’s also the same in a lot of ways.”

  It gets easier the longer I talk, not because Mom or Dad relax their rigid postures, but because Laura holds my hand the entire time. It also gets easier because talking about Heath, even to people who’ve long associated his name with pain, fills me with so much hope and happiness that I can’t keep it in anymore. I don’t want to.

  I see the point in my story where Mom’s expression changes from one of disbelief to dimly masked horror and I choke off before she can interrupt me.

  “Brooke. No. You can’t mean you—not with him—baby, you know you can’t—” She casts her stricken expression toward Dad, but he hasn’t looked away from me.

  “You like this boy?”

  When he holds me with his gaze like this, when it feels like my entire fate hangs in the balance, I feel like an animal caught in a trap. Not because he could forbid me from seeing Heath anymore, but because it would devastate me if he tried. “Yes, sir. I more than like him.”

  Beside Dad, Mom makes a whimpering sound.

  “I like him too,” Laura says in a quiet voice, drawing all eyes to her. “I met him today after—” She cuts off then, looking at me to know if she just revealed something she shouldn’t have. It’s not fair to hit them again so soon, but I have to consider it a small victory that no one has fled or stormed from the room yet. I’m not letting go of Heath. It will take time to show them that, to show everyone. But he’s worth it. He’s worth all of it. But he’s not the only thing I’m not letting go of.

  I nod my head a little at Laura to let her know it’s okay and Mom notices the exchange.

  “What?” she says. “What else?” I can see the familiar panic beginning to seep into the edge of her eyes, and I know I can’t hold off any longer.

  “Laura and I didn’t just go skating this afternoon,” I say. “She came to help me film my audition video for Stories on Ice. I know I said I decided on community college in
stead, but that was only because I thought—I thought I couldn’t go and leave you all, not with everything the way it’s been this year.” Beside me I feel Laura press her leg against mine, offering silent support. “And with Jason where he is.” Mom’s lip trembles but she doesn’t object. “Jason is where he has to be, but I’m not.”

  “You haven’t seen her on the ice in so long,” Laura says, capturing Mom’s heart-heavy stare. “She has to try—I want her to try.” She starts to lower her eyes, but instead holds them up. “I think Jason would too.”

  I think, maybe, this is the first time in a year that Laura’s said his name out loud, and it has the effect of a tree suddenly sprouting full grown through the center of the dining table. Three sets of eyes turn to her in shock.

  Two months ago, the four of us sat around this table and she could barely look up from her plate, let alone speak even a single word. She’s been little more than a shell of her former self since witnessing Cal’s murder, and we’ve all been helpless to watch as she diminished day by day until barely anything was left. Now, her voice is still timid and her chin still wants to drop, but it’s like watching someone fighting back from a long, life-threatening illness.

  She wasn’t fighting before.

  It’s impossible for Laura’s support not to carry weight with our parents, with me too—and not just about auditioning, about Heath too. I haven’t told Jason about my plans, but I will. And I think Laura’s right. He’ll be happy for me.

  I stare at my sister in wonder even as I continue talking to Mom and Dad. “I’m still going to keep visiting Jason. It won’t be every week like it is now if I join a tour, but I promised him I’d still come. I won’t ever break that promise.”

  I hear Mom’s relieved exhalation, and her eyes are shiny again as she reaches for my hand and I meet hers halfway.

  “Do you have it with you?” Dad says. “Your audition?”

  “No,” I say. “Maggie’s editing it for me, but I can show it to you when it’s done.”

  Dad’s beard twitches and I know he’s smiling beneath all that hair. “I think we could all do with seeing you skate again.”

  CHAPTER 48

  Four months later

  The porch is empty when I get home from work. It’s actually colder in December outside the rink than in it, so I’ve kept my jacket on driving home—Daphne’s heater is...temperamental to say the least. Maggie has been watching endless videos online about how to fix it. I’m close to caving and agreeing to try to fix it ourselves before we both have to start school again—online for me, in person for her, but I might wait until there’s actual frost crystallizing on the grass. I am loving the warming lip gloss she got me for my birthday the month before though.

  I pull the collar of my jacket tighter against my chin when I get out of the car, expecting the wind to send a chill down my back. Instead, warm arms and even warmer breath envelope me from behind.

  “I didn’t see your truck,” I say, turning in Heath’s arms and pressing my lips against his much colder ones. I shiver for a lot of reasons. He’s supposed to be picking up Laura and me for a movie.

  “It’s in the shop.” He finds the warmest spot beneath my ear to press his chilled nose against.

  I half-heartedly try to leap away. “Again?” He doesn’t let me. And truthfully I don’t try very hard. “You’re not cold enough to have walked here.” I press closer to him to confirm that, and the heat radiating from his chest assures me I’m right.

  He stops searching for especially warm parts of me to press the especially cold parts of him against and draws back just enough to capture my gaze. “Gwen dropped me off.”

  “Yeah?” I say, a strong breeze stealing most of the sound as it rushes past, but I can’t blame the wind for the sting I feel in my eyes.

  Apart from Laura, our families have been slow to thaw to the idea of us being together. Beyond our initial confessions, we haven’t wanted to push the other in our respective families, more so his than mine, because of the pain it still causes. But neither have we withdrawn from each other, so inevitably his family sees some of me and my family sees some of him. Even if it’s just looking out the front window when we drop off or pick each other up—usually me picking him up because his truck has broken down.

  Maggie has started looking up videos for fixing that too. Heath told her it’s never gonna happen.

  But his sister driving him to my house... I have no words.

  “She made me walk up the driveway, but—”

  I kiss him again, smiling against his mouth. She could have dropped him off a mile away and I still would have felt like cheering. Gwen voluntarily coming anywhere near me or my family is huge, and Heath knows it.

  When I finally let Heath come up for air, he’s grinning too, and not just from our kiss. I snake my arms higher around his neck. “I think I’m happy right now.”

  “Yeah?”

  I nod. “You?”

  “You always make me happy.” Then he pulls me closer. “You want to be happier?”

  I laugh and start to push him away, not expecting him to let me go so easily, but he does. When I give him a somewhat surprised look, his cheeks flush redder than the chill alone can account for.

  “I just made the deadline. I’m now officially enrolled at Howard College. Classes start next week and—Hey, hey.” His hands come up to cup my face and catch the tear that slips free. “It’s just community college. They literally had to let me in.”

  “But you had to want in,” I say, a laugh bubbling up out of me. “And you did, you do.”

  “I don’t have a major. I still don’t know what I want to do.”

  “But you’re awake now, aren’t you?” I say, thinking back to that conversation we had all those months ago by Hackman’s Pond.

  “Yeah,” he says. “I think maybe I am.”

  I wrap my arms around him, and his hands slide to my waist, lifting me off the ground to kiss me. I feel dizzy in a way that has nothing to do with heights. It’s too soon when he lowers me back down.

  “I’m officially out of time.” He nods at my house. “Laura’s been checking the window for you for the past fifteen minutes. I think maybe you got something in the mail that you’ve been waiting for.” My eyes widen. “Go on,” Heath says, smiling and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Before she sends that bird out to get you.”

  I start to move toward the porch, then turn back. “Come with me?”

  He looks at me, then my house. He has been on the porch before, and even inside once when Laura was the only one home. I think maybe my family is ready, but Heath has to be ready too.

  He’s not yet, but he will be.

  And I know he’ll be worth the wait, however long it is.

  I give him Daphne’s keys so he can enjoy what little heat she puts out and promise to return as soon as I can.

  Inside, Laura is waiting for me as soon as I open the door. She shoves an envelope at me before I can even get my jacket off, Ducky swooping from her shoulder to the bookcase because she won’t stop bouncing.

  “Is it?”

  “Yes.” She fists her hands under her chin as I look down at the letter in my hands. It’s hard to imagine something better than the true smile on Laura’s face—one that I’m still getting used to seeing again, or the knowledge that Heath is right outside waiting for me. Behind Laura, our parents also enter the living room, their smiles more timid but no less genuine as they wait for me to open my future.

  I’m smiling before I tear open the envelope.

  * * *

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  “Outside my window, past the blackberry bushes that glint silver in the moonlight, Jake is waiting for me under the sweeping bows of our weeping willow tree.”

  That was the first line of the short story that eventually became Even If I Fall. I wrote it back in 2015 based o
n the simplest of prompts from my two longtime critique partners, Sarah Guillory and Kate Goodwin: write a summer love story. That seven-hundred-word short story has grown and changed a lot since I first imagined Brooke and Heath, and it would never have become the book you just read without the help and encouragement of so many people.

  I always have to start with my agent, Kim Lionetti. I think I sent you about a dozen story ideas when you started nudging me for “what’s next” and I’m so, so glad that you saw the potential in this one even before I knew what it could become. Thank you for always steering me in the best possible direction. I can’t wait to see where we go next!

  To my editor, Natashya Wilson. I didn’t hesitate for a second when I was given the chance to work on two more books with you—I would have done ten! You see the hearts of my books and characters and never let me “skate over” the hard emotions. Thank you for bringing out the best in my writing.

  To the endlessly amazing team at Inkyard Press and HarperCollins Children’s, including Shara Alexander, Laura Gianino, Linette Kim, Meredith Barnes, Emer Flounders, Andrea Pappenheimer and the Harper Children’s Sales team, Gigi Lau (thank you for another beautiful cover!), and everyone who has had a role in supporting this book. I’m so glad to be part of this family.

  To my critique partners, Sarah and Kate. This book literally wouldn’t have happened without you two.

  To my awesome friends from the AZYA author’s group, including Steph, Kate, Kelly, Sara, Mallory, Traci, Nate, Dusti, Mary, Shonna, Paul, Ryan, Joanna and all the Amys. We’re too big to name everyone but I love you guys!

  I’ll never get tired of thanking my parents, Gary and Suzanne Johnson. Mom, thank you for all the hours you spent teaching me to read when my second-grade teacher said I was failing. Dad, thank you for the endless boxes of books you brought me home every week once I read through everything in the house.

  To my siblings, Sam, Mary and Rachel. I thought of you three endlessly while writing this book. Rachel, you’re too young to remember, but I loved getting to revisit all those summer days we all spent fishing and swimming at Hackman’s Pond.