Falling by Design (15 page)

"Why show me?" I ask.

"Because you understand." His words are firm, sure. I knew something changed between us in his car when he told me about his family, and now something else shifts, sending my world spinning.

I do understand, I want to say, I know what it's like to be afraid to share those parts of you with the rest of the world. Yet, the words don't come, so I stay silent. We're way past complicated. And maybe silence is better. Grayson is watching me, the look in his eyes making me tingle.

He takes the tiniest step forward, his body flush against mine and I don't stop him.

"Are you guys going to kiss? Eww!" Noah exclaims from the doorway, his face a mask of disgust. His voice snaps us out of the spell we are under. Grayson shoots me a look—something between apology and regret—before turning to his little brother.

"It's none of your business, Shorty, but now you're going to get it." Noah takes off running as fast as his little feet will carry him and Grayson glances my way as he stops at the door. I give him what I hope is an encouraging smile and he sprints after his brother. I hear laughter and squealing a few seconds later as I sit back down on Grayson's bed.

What just happened?

TWENTY - THREE

Well, if I called the wrong number, why did you answer the phone? - James Thurber

"It's almost Halloween, baby!"

This is the greeting I get when Dakota and I walk out of our class a week later. Chance loves Halloween. He makes the biggest deal out of dressing up and trying to grab as much candy as he can. He doesn’t go trick or treating anymore, but he does have a special way of conning people out of their stash. He says it's the one night a year he can be anything he wants. It's also his birthday.

"Yes, Chance, we all know this because you started your countdown on October 1st. We all saw the minutes and the seconds on that widget."

"There is nothing wrong with being prepared," he mumbles, throwing his hand over my shoulder. Dakota rolls her eyes, and I shake with amusement. It's like ritual between the three of us. She waves in our general direction saying something about meeting us in a few, as Chance steers me in the direction of the lunchroom.

"So what are you getting me for my birthday this year?" Chance asks after doing his mandatory fist bumps with a couple guys passing by.

"I'm knitting you a scarf." His booming laugh rings out at my statement and I join in. It's been a standing joke with us for years. I keep telling him I'm going to gift him with a super girly rainbow looking scarf and he'll have to wear it. Even in Arizona. He would too, and one of these years I'm going to test that promise.

"You're coming to my party right?"

"As if I've ever missed it."

"Are your parent's still going to their semiannual 'retreat'?"

"Ugh, please don't use the quotation marks when you talk about my parents and yes. They're leaving Thursday night and won't be back till Monday night."

"If you want to stay over after the party Friday, you're more than welcome. I'll even let Dakota stay."

I poke him in the side.

"Anyway, about the party—"

"Party?" The question comes from Grayson, who appears beside us with a smile. I avert my eyes after giving him a small nod, keeping my attention strictly on Chance as he answers. I would be lying if I said I’m not completely and totally nervous around Grayson now.

"Yep. Every year I get to have a Halloween party. Dad can't really say no since it's my birthday. It's at my house and you're coming."

"Yes, sir," Grayson replies with a small salute. "Can I borrow Brooklynn for a second?" Without a moment’s hesitation, Chance hands me over, literally, and walks away with a small wave. I step out of Grayson's arms, chiding my body silently for responding to his closeness.

"You've been avoiding me," he states, studying me closely. I fight the urge to fidget.

"I've been busy."

"No, you're avoiding me. Again." His accusing tone is enough to fuel a spark of anger, so I meet his eyes, my hands on my hips.

"I said I was busy." Instead of a normal response to someone getting angry, Grayson grins.

"I like you better when you're feisty." I grunt a response he’s not meant to hear and turn to walk away. He reaches for my hand before I can take two steps, pulling me back into him. My body collides into his for just a second and I feel the impact all over.

"What do you want, Grayson?" I ask, hoping my voice doesn't sound as weak as it does to my own ears. He leans down a bit, so he can look directly into my eyes. Will I ever get used to the impact his gaze has on me? I'm afraid to answer that question.

"We should talk about last Saturday."

"Sorry I had to leave so soon. I needed to get home before my parents sent the cavalry after me."

"That's not what I mean. Before Noah came in, we—"

"We were talking. It's not a big deal. We do that all the time."

"Brooklynn." A tone of annoyance enters his voice. I know I'm pushing it, but I can't help it. If he says it out loud, if he admits what would've happened if Noah didn't come in, then everything we've been working toward would shatter. I need his friendship, because I’m terrified of anything past that. Right now, it’s all I can do to protect myself from getting hurt. I can't handle that, I can't let myself take that leap. However, before he can finish whatever he was about to say, we're interrupted by a squeal.

"Graay-son!" I've never been this happy to hear Tamela's high-pitched voice. I’m shuffled aside as Tamela and her clones invade Grayson's personal space. But before I can disappear, Grayson's hand snakes out and launches onto my own, bringing me back to his side. The look on Tamela's perfectly makeup-ed face is priceless.

After she recovers, giving me a death stare, she turns back to Grayson.

"Have you heard about Chance's birthday paa-rty?" she almost purrs "We should totally think of a couples costume! I can be a sexy Catwoman and you can be my Batman."

I stare straight ahead, trying to think happy thoughts and not anticipate Grayson's answers. I can see his eyes fly briefly in my direction as he tugs me even closer to his side.

"Actually, Brooklynn and I were going together, but thanks for asking." Then, without another moment to spare, he flings his arm over my shoulder and steers me away from the open mouthed Tamela. I don't start laughing until we round the corner.

I'm gasping for breath but I can't seem to stop. "Oh goodness, her face!” I let my body relax into his as I laugh, his arm still securely fastened around my shoulders. “Thank you thank you for that!" Slowly, I realize just how completely burrowed into him I am.  Chance constantly walks with his arm around my shoulders, but these sensations are nothing like what I experience with him. Grayson's proximity electrifies every nerve in my body, as my heart beats at the speed of a hummingbird in flight. We stop in the middle of the walkway, oblivious to the people chatting around us. I don't know what I'm thinking. I want him to let go. I never want him to let me go. My mind is a mess of tangled emotions.

As soon as the thought resonates in my mind, I drop my eyes. I can't let myself trust him. Mostly, I just can’t imagine letting him in any more than I’ve already have. Maybe I’m being childish, maybe I’m being unjust. Yet, every time I think of Grayson as anything other what he is now, I picture my family and the disapproving looks on their faces when I don’t live up their expectations. What if Grayson sees me for who I really am and it’s not what he expects? I don’t think I can lose myself in him, or lose him in the process.

I can tell he feels the change in me, because his chest moves as he exhales, before letting me out of his embrace. The disappointment is there, in the way he stands, in the way his body moves. I want to grab his hand and tell him it's not him, but what do those words even matter. I'm pushing him away, even while my body screams for me to hold him close. Maybe that's why the next words leave my mouth, before I can even think about them.

"Sorry, Im just distracted thinking about the costumes I’m picking out for us to wear." It is absolutely the right thing to say. The spark returns to his eyes.

"Oh, I have an idea."

TWENTY - FOUR

If at first you don't succeed...so much for skydiving. - Henny Youngman

"I cannot believe he talked me into wearing this!" I exclaim for what seems like the hundredth time.

I tug on my belt, making sure my laser is secured and glance over at Dakota. She's wearing a sexy pirate outfit, her very own “brilliantly inspired idea” and I have a feeling Chance is going to be Jack Sparrow, but I don't comment. She turns to me after applying another coat of lip gloss and grunts.

"Please Brooklynn! You've wanted to be Princess Leia since we were kids. We were both a little obsessed in fifth grade."

"I don't know if obsessed is the right word."

"Whatever. You look smokin'! It's a good thing your parents are gone because there is no way your dad would let you walk out of the house with those slits on your skirt."

"Is it too much? I bet it's too much. I should've just—"

"Can you calm yourself down? You look amazing! The dress is perfect, and why wouldn't it be since you made it! How long have you had these sketches?"

"A while," I mumble under my breath.

"What?"

"I said a while! Shut up!" I shove Dakota's laughing face away from me and run my hands over the dress one more time. It's light silver, the shade almost identical to the one Carrie Fisher wore in the movies. The dark silver belt sits low on my hips, the weapon secured on the side. The dress is tighter than I'm used to with slits going up way past what anyone would imagine I’d wear. The front of it is a little thinner than I would've liked, exposing my legs even when I'm not walking. It’s daring. Impulsive. So unlike me. It's going to be a long, uncomfortable night. On the other hand, I’m beyond exhilarated because the dress is daring, impulsive, so unlike me. Yes, that totally makes sense in my head.

"Brooklynn, please stop fidgeting. Seriously, if you pull on that material one more time I'm going to tie your hands behind your back. Or better yet, I'll tie you to Grayson. I'm sure he'll thank me as soon as he hears that proposition."  I chuck a pillow at her, which she masterfully dodges.

My head whips in the direction of the front door as I hear a car pull into my driveway. Speaking of Grayson, he talked my ear off until I promised I'd let him drive me to the party, under one condition—Dakota would be coming with me since we always go together. Grayson smiled, knowing she is my safety net and a way to seal the deal. Go ahead and sue me, but there is no way I’m trusting myself with Grayson right now. Especially alone. Dakota giggles behind me and I throw her a death stare.

"Watch it missy," I say, "I'm armed."

"Mhhhm." She glances out the window before giving an exaggerated sigh.

"Well, Grayson sure makes a nice Han Solo. Even better than Harrison Ford and I didn't think that was possible." She wiggles her eyebrows at me.

I can't do this.

I don't realize I say the words out loud until Dakota stops me with a look.

"Yes, you can."  She takes my hand. "You stay here and I'll go get the door. Then you can wow him with your entrance." Apparently, she's going to play the role of a parent tonight, since my own are gone. I can hear her voice as she greets Grayson, and my heart speeds up another bazillion beats per second. "Brooklynn?" Dakota's voice rings out, shattering my freak out. But, I can't move. What is wrong with me? It's only Grayson. Grayson and I are cool. Fine. Friends. And I'm ignoring the weird tension that's been rising up between us.

"Brooklynn, get you cute butt out here or there will be war!" She's just set on humiliating me in front of that boy, isn't she? There will be war either way if she doesn't knock it off.

"Hey, no fighting." Grayson's voice sends shivers up my spine. Dakota is giggling, probably because Grayson is making some weird face as he speaks. Oh, they’re real mature, aren’t they? I place my hand over my hyperventilating heart, preparing myself for walking into that room. I can do this. I have learned to carry myself in a new light and I’m about to prove it to myself by walking tall and taking names. I almost snort at my own thoughts, but I don’t stop as my feet carry me into the other room. Grayson is still speaking. "Play nice. I'm sure Brooklynn—"

Whatever he was about to say freezes on his lips as I round the corner. I'm really starting to like this new super power of mine. His eyes seem to take in all of me at once and I'm drowning. Never has a boy looked at me with that much appreciation in his gaze. Appreciation and heat.

My whole body flares up, the costume suddenly restricting every breath I take. I know Dakota is in the room with us, but I don't see anyone but Grayson. She was right—he makes one gorgeous Han Solo. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the whole costume was created just for him. The white shirt he has on sits well against his broad chest, the collar open to allow a glimpse of the skin beneath it. The black vest and pants are perfectly fitted, the gun holster sitting comfortably on his hips.

I realize I'm staring and my already flushed body burns even brighter. I'm sure I'm a red tomato against the light color of my dress. My embarrassment is fleeting as I meet Grayson's eyes once more. I don't think he’s breathed since the moment I walked into the room.