Falling by Design (9 page)

She's been on this overanalyzing spree since she followed me out of the cafeteria two days ago. After giving me a huge hug and a high five, she started spewing all of these ideas on how Grayson is going to retaliate to gain his footing back. For some reason, she really views Grayson and my relationship as a reality show she gets to watch. I swear she's going to start taking bets. I'm done trying to talk her out of predictions.

"When we were little, you never stood up to him or anything. Now that you're all Elizabeth Bennett, he can be all Mr. Darcy and bam! Happily ever after." I laugh because I can't help it. If Dakota doesn't start writing down all the crazy ideas running through her head I might have to. We'll make a fortune.

"We hardly have an epic romance going," I have to point out, not that it will help any. Dakota is pretty set in her ways. Chance hasn't exactly been helping either. Speak of the devil.

"Are we talking about Grayson and Brooklynn?" he asks, coming up beside me. These people really need to stop sneaking up on me and my conversations. I can't keep anything low key around here.

"Of course we are," Dakota answers, giving Chance a full-blown smile. His face lights up in a way that I find adorable, but Dakota doesn't even realize she just shocked Chance speechless. Not with her words, but with the fact that she shared her grin with him. I hide my own and turn to Dakota.

"We have to go."

"Fine, but we're talking about this after." Of course. She wiggles her fingers in a little wave, before weaving off to find her own car.

"You can close your mouth now," I say poking Chance in the stomach. He jerks, giving me a dirty look for a second before throwing his hand over my shoulder and guiding me to his Cassandra. Like a proper gentlemen, he opens the passenger door and shuts it behind me. When he’s done arranging himself in the driver seat, I turn my attention to him.

"But seriously Chance, when are you going to talk to Dakota? You're going to have to if you guys ever give this tension between you an opportunity to be anything more."

"Thank you Dr. Laura," he grumbles not taking his eyes off the road, "But Dakota and I are perfectly content in our current state of irritability. But speaking of relationships, when are you and Grayson diving off the deep end and actually going on a date?"

"Try never?"

"Come on, Brook, I know you have a past. Hello, I was there. But Grayson is not the same guy you remember. Have you ever thought maybe you don’t know the whole story?"

"Maybe not, but no one just comes back, finds their biggest enemy, and tries to befriend them. The world is not that perfect."

"Your trust issues aren't very attractive."

"Good thing you're not actually attracted to me then, right?" He glares at me, and I fear we'll have one of our "special" talks but he doesn't start up on how I'll meet someone perfect one day. It's not like I want Chance to like me like that. He's perfect just where he is in my life, but he does have a tendency to play it up a bit. Especially around audiences. Not that this is important right now.

It took me a long time to let Chance into my inner circle of friends, so he knows exactly how much work trusting anyone is for me. It's hard to see the good in people when you can't even be supported by those who should be the first in line to cheer you on. My sister was the first to betray my trust, and ever since then, it seems like everyone else followed suit. I can’t even imagine trusting Grayson enough to have a normal conversation with him, without coming up with the worst case scenarios in my head.

"You can't judge everyone by your family's mistakes."

As always, Chance sees right into the heart of things. He understands exactly where this fear comes from, even before I understand it myself. He reaches over and grabs one of my hands in his, giving me the comfort of knowing not everyone is of the bad lot.

"Look, I'm not saying Grayson is your, how did Dakota put it? Happily ever after. But I know that you need to give him a chance to explain. You owe that to yourself. He owes you an apology. The closure that can come from knowing the full story maybe just what you need. There is always more going on that you know, trust me. Just hear him out." He gives my hand another small squeeze before letting go.

I know he's right, but the fear of being let down by yet another person sits too heavily on my heart. I'm doing that thing again, where I over-think every little aspect to a point of denial. It's not like Grayson is proposing right? He just wants to have a normal conversation, where I don't feel like pushing him off a building. I'm not a kid anymore. I can handle talking to him for five minutes. I guess I could manage that, if just for the sanity of my friends. I honestly cannot imagine them steering me in a direction that would not be beneficial to me. And the fact that I’m stressing over this whole Grayson thing may end if I let myself take that leap and just talk to him.

"So what did you decide?" Chance asks, after giving me a moment to mull his words over. I love him for that, he always knows how to say exactly the right thing and then give me the time to process it. He has a tendency to think things over before making decisions and we're alike in that sense. While Dakota just usually dives head first without the moment to think, I'm the cautious one, so Chance understands me. I meet his eyes with a determined look.

"Fine, Mr. Know-It -All, if he wants to talk, I’ll listen."

FIFTEEN

I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me.

- Fred Allen

I can hear the dogs barking even before we round the corner.

The shelter's been open for only a few years, but it's been a great success. The building that houses all the animals is an old motel structure, which allows for numerous rooms to be used for housing animals, while others are used for bathing, exercise, and visiting days. Only half of the buildings survived after the property was sold, but it works just fine. The back lot was redesigned to allow the animals to be taken outside for walks and exercise, while the front was expanded for more parking spaces.

I love volunteering here. I had to talk my aunt into letting me come in later on some days just so I can have an extra day to participate. Chance is not working at the moment so he'll be here five days a week, that punk. I guess that's what you get when your dad has all the money you may ever need. No, I'm not being fair. He worked all summer for his father, and he’s anything but a rich party boy. He uses his powers for good instead of evil. Like Batman. His words, not mine.

"Brooklynn," Mrs. Baker, the co-owner of the shelter, greets me warmly as soon as we walk in. As her arms come around me I inhale the sweet aroma of baked cookies and Christmas. Regardless of where she is or what time of the year it is, she always smells like the holidays.  "I'm so glad to have you back here. Chance said he was brining you in today but we all know not to trust what Chance says."

"Hey Mrs. B, I'm a trustworthy guy," the boy in question exclaims, giving Mrs. Baker a hug of his own. It’s plain to see they adore each. Chance doesn't have a mother figure in his life and Mrs. Baker decided that "just won't do". The first year we worked here, Chance was just a scrawny little freshman, all arms and legs dangling in no particular order. Mrs. Baker toughened him right up, and after carrying bags of food from room to room, Chance is anything but scrawny now. He filled out nicely, if I do say so myself.

"I just love having you all here," Mrs. Baker states clapping her hands together in glee, "So much help this year, I'm going to have to send that principle of yours a fruit basket or something."

"All the help?" I ask looking around. It was just us in the room. "Who else is coming?"

"Oh Chance didn't tell you? One of his friends is volunteering here as well. He should be here any moment. He's just the most darling of boys." Mrs. Baker continues to chatter as she goes behind the counter to give us our badges. I turn my attention to Chance.

"Who's volunteering with us?" He won't meet my eyes and I have the most horrible feeling at the bottom of my stomach. "Chance. Chance!" I stalk up to him, and he moves away. I follow. He finally looks at me, once I corner him between the desk and a wall and my heart drops.

"You didn't."

"Of course I didn't." He replies with a sweet curve to his lips, but I hear the exact opposite.

"Chance!" I exclaim poking him in the chest, "You are so dead! If you did what I think you did, I'm going to strangle you." He ducks around me, and I fall forward just a bit before catching myself on the counter.

"Everything okay?" Mrs. Baker asks glancing up from her papers with a smile. It's not the first time Chance and I have had a little disagreement in front of her.

"We're fine," I reply, eyeing Chance on the other side of the room. He stands, feet shoulder length apart, ready to sprint if I make a dash for him. I know exactly what to do to punish him for sticking his nose into my business.

"Prepare to lose that perfect mop of hair," I growl and launch myself at him. He shifts, jumping out of the way at the last possible moment, before dashing around the waiting chairs.

"You are not touching my hair!"

"Ha, that's what you think." We make another go around the chairs and he sprints for the counter and all its glorious safety. I shift to follow, but before I can take two steps, I hear the unmistakable sound of the door opening and the sense of something specifically Grayson fills the room.

"Should I come back later?" Grayson asks from somewhere behind me. I flick the hair out of my eyes, turning to face the amused expression on his face. Briefly, I wonder how much trouble I'd get into if I just sweep the feet from right under him. I'm definitely tempted. I shift to get out of his way, but trip over my own two feet. I would’ve face planted if Grayson’s arms didn’t stop the process. Literally. He wastes no time, just grabs me by my elbows and hauls me to my feet.

"Thanks," I mutter under my breath. I can hear Chance trying not to laugh behind Grayson's shoulder and I twist my face into a grimace before giving him my best death stare. That sets him off, until tears are starting to come out of his eyes. Enough is enough. I take a step in his direction, but Grayson's hands are in front of me and I freeze before he can actually touch me. I'm not giving my body that satisfaction again.

"You guys good now?" Grayson asks glancing between Chance and me, an inquiring expression on his face.

I grumble.

He makes a face.

Chance is still laughing.

"Fine," I reply before stalking off to Mrs. Baker. She's been watching us closely, a smile of her own amusement plain on her face. "Is it okay if I start with the chihuahua's?" I ask ignoring the boys behind me.

"Actually, why don't you take Grayson on a tour? He needs to know where everything is at." She doesn't give me a moment to reply. "Chance, can you come with me? I have a little project to keep you out of trouble."

"Sure, Mrs. B." He smirks at me, wiggling his eyebrows and I fight the urge to trip him as he goes by. My friends have officially devised a conspiracy that's going to drive me up the wall.

"Behave," Chance whispers as he walks past me and I can't help but smack him in the arm. Taking a deep breath, I turn my attention to Grayson and find him watching me. Again.

"Ready?" I ask, making a mental note to act normal. Sure, he's the sworn enemy of my childhood, but I did promise Chance I was going to have a talk with Grayson, so why not now right? Maybe this will actually save me from going anywhere with him.

"Lead the way."

We walk out of the main office and head toward the doors on the west side of the complex. We're not touching, but my body seems acutely aware of exactly where my personal space ends and Grayson's begins.

"Since this building used to be a motel there are a lot of spare rooms to use," I begin in my best customer service voice, "We house a lot of strays here, but we also have a few rooms set up as play rooms for when we have family days. The yard at the back of the rooms allows parents and kids to take the animals out while still staying on grounds. There are a few we take to see patients in hospitals, and those animals actually live with a caretaker during the week. Over here we—"

"Brooklynn," Grayson's soft voice interrupts my babbling. I do that, talk until someone stops me, when I'm nervous. He runs his hand absently through his thick locks.

"I know you think the worst of me," he says. I open my mouth but he rushes on, "And I deserve that. I wasn't exactly the nicest kid growing up."

"Try tormentor or imp," I grumble, unable to help myself. His eyes flash for a second, and for some fleeting reason I want to take the words back. He looks so vulnerable.

"Okay, I was horrible to you. What I was trying to say, what I've been meaning to tell you—umm—I just wanted to say that I'm sorry."

Well that is not what I expected. Maybe a little. Maybe I hoped. I would be blind not to admit that he’s changed, but his words still shock me into silence.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me. Yet. But I want to run something by you that I hope you would be open to." He waits for an answer once more, and I mentally slap myself.

"I'm listening." Good answer, Brooklynn. Go me. He takes a deep breath, almost as if stilling himself for whatever is to come, before he speaks again.