Falling From the Sky (18 page)

Jade’s bratty attitude flees the instant Zoey gives her ultimatum. She dives to the ground beside Micah. “Please Uncle Mike! Please! Please!”

Abby runs over to them, joining her sister in the beg-fest. They both pull on his arms. Their words run together, making everything they say undecipherable. Micah finally looks in our direction, but he eyes his sister instead of me.

“Girls, come over here. Give Micah a second, okay?” she calls out to them. Then she gives me that look, and I know what she’s asking without her saying a word.

The girls run past me as I walk the twenty feet over to where Micah sits on the curb. I sit next to him, but he stares straight ahead at a purple and gold vendor booth with the clown face plastered across the top of it.

“Come with us,” I say, still not looking at him either. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t even move.

“Micah, please.”

He looks up at the sky. No words. No eye contact. And he knows it’s killing me. I’m not just begging for Abby, Jade, and Zoey. I really want him to come with
me
. I want him beside me squeezing my wrist and looking at the lights on the river. He needs to see it. He needs to see it with me.

I give him the puppy eyes and rest my head on his shoulder. “Mike-cah,” I say.

He bites his lip, but it’s a failure. He bursts out laughing and shoves me off of his shoulder. “You’re an idiot,” he says.

“But I’m your idiot,” I say, grabbing his hand.

“You’re not mine.” And he’s not laughing anymore.

I reach into my pocket with my free hand and pull out that ancient flip phone. “I’ll call Sam right now and end it.”

What the fuck? Where did that come from? What am I supposed to tell her?
“Hey Sam, things have been awesome with you, and I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me since my dad died, but the truth is, I can’t be with you anymore. I met someone else, and we jumped off a bridge together, and then we stood in the mud and listened to an awesome band, and I realized I was in love with someone other than you, but don’t take it too hard because he’s a guy.”
Right, she’ll take that well.

“You don’t have to do that,” Micah says.

Thank God.

“I will, though,” I say. Why do I keep saying these things?

“I know. Don’t ruin tonight by calling her.” He smiles at me, and for the most part, I think it’s a real smile.

We sit on the curb a little longer. Kyle the Ripper stands with Zoey. He can ride with them if I stay down here with Micah. But I still want him to go. I need him to.

“Micah,” I whisper. I squeeze his hand and lean closer to him. “Come with me.”

He looks up again, this time at the ferris wheel, and then back into my eyes. “I’m scared. Like really scared.”

“I know. But Kyle’s going to ride with us, and Abby’s already a pro now. So you’ll have me all to yourself. I’ll even tell Jade that I’m your boyfriend.”

I’m desperate to get him to go with me. It’s a new kind of desperation. I think I might even like it, and that scares me. He bites down on his lip and gives me the puppy eyes.

So I return them along with, “Please Mike-cah?”

“If you’ll stop talking like Abby.”

“Done.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” I stand up and dust off the back of my shorts. I offer him a hand to pull him up. He actually lets me pull him up to his feet. I wrap my arm around his shoulders and half-drag him to the ferris wheel with me. Abby and Jade jump up and down, and I’m sure everyone at the festival hears them squealing.

The line moves pretty quickly, and I’m thankful because it doesn’t give Micah enough time to change his mind. Once we’re onboard, Abby leans over the side again, pointing around the festival grounds. She tells Jade that she could see the whole world at the top. Zoey and Kyle are bookends, strategically positioned to keep a hold on the girls. I focus all of my attention on Micah.

“You’re okay,” I whisper to him. I brush his hair off his face with the back of my hand. He’s going to pierce his lip if he doesn’t stop biting down so hard. I take both of his hands in mine and squeeze them. “I’m right here. I’m not leaving you.”

Zoey shoots a concerned look over her shoulder. The truth is I am leaving him, and everyone knows it. In two weeks, I’m heading back home to senior year, basketball try-outs, my sick brother, my grieving mom, and Samantha. In two weeks, I’ll be the guy breaking her little brother’s heart and shattering my own during the process. I squeeze my eyes shut and lean forward, pressing my forehead against his.

“Are you okay?” he whispers. His breath is warm against my mouth. It takes every ounce of self-control not to kiss him right here in this ferris wheel bucket.

“Yeah. I’m good. Just hoping you don’t hate this.” I hope my voice is convincing. Or that his fear clouds his ability to detect a lie.

“Just hold on to me, and I’ll be good,” he says.

He didn’t have to tell me. I wasn’t planning on letting go. He glances over the edge like Abby did the first time but with much less enthusiasm than his niece. I hope he adjusts to the height before we reach the top so it doesn’t freak him out and cause him to miss the river.

“We’re almost there.” I keep my voice low as I talk into his ear. I rest my chin on the hollow of his shoulder, just above his collarbone.

“Wow,” he whispers.

But I know he sees it. The river, the rocks, the way the orange lights dance across the water. I know he’s made the connection. If I thought of the song, I know he will. I send up a prayer that we’ll get caught at the top of the ride like Abby and I did earlier. The sky must be clear of airplanes because the prayer works. We jolt and swing in the air for a few seconds while the passengers swap out below. Abby points around to everything below us, telling Jade how awesome this is. Zoey clings tightly to her little daredevil. Abby is definitely too comfortable this time around for her own good.

I take note of their distraction and cuddle Micah closer to me, not that we can really get much closer. He lets go of the side of the bucket and rests his arms over mine. He shoots a mischievous grin back at me. He looks back to the lit up river and then turns to me.

“Ridge…I–”

The ride jerks, and we all shudder as the ride stops again a few feet lower. We’re not on top of the world anymore. We don’t have the perfect “top bucket” view of the river or the shore or the lights. And Micah is silent.

“You what?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he whispers. He smiles and pulls me close to him.

I won’t be able to sleep tonight. That was it. That was going to be the moment I’d been waiting for all summer. We were there, inches apart, on top of the world looking over the lights and the bridge we’d jumped off of, and he was going to say it. I just know he was going to say it.

And if he doesn’t say it, I won’t say it, because I can’t bring myself to say I love him just to leave him in two weeks. I need him to say it first so I won’t feel weird about it, so I won’t feel guilty about it. I don’t want to be the guy who loved him and left him. I don’t care what people say about it being better to have loved and lost. They never met Micah Youngblood.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“What the hell, McCoy? Is that the best you got for me?” Zach Perry shouts at me. I really don’t care what he’s ranting about or what insult he’s about to lay on me. It’s not like he ever comes up with anything new to say about me.

“So this is your idea of fun?” he asks. His tennis shoes thud louder as he nears my car.

I turn around and lean against my car door. “What are you talking about?”

That’s my nice way of saying, “Shut the fuck up. I hate you, and I’m ready to go see Micah.” Sometimes I really want to slap that arrogant smile off of his face, but today he doesn’t smile. Not even a smirk.

“Just ‘cause I’ve got a better three point shot doesn’t mean you’ve got the right to go messing with my stuff. That little tire thing was bullshit, McCoy!” he screams, about four inches from my face.

For once he doesn’t smell like beer, but then again, it’s barely past noon. There’s still time. I’ve been fortunate enough to avoid him throughout the week, aside from practices. I figured he’d already left for the weekend by now. It’s not like him to hang around camp when he can be drunk or in some chick’s bed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.

“Like hell you don’t. I’ve gotta go find a damn air pump now and waste my whole fucking afternoon because you can’t get over the fact that my three pointer is better than yours.”

“Yeah, okay,” I say, trying to fight the sarcasm. “Whatever you say, Zach.”

I push him away from me with my shoulder when he leans forward in a lame attempt to intimidate me. He doesn’t make any other moves, which surprises me, so I get into my car to head to Micah’s before Zach changes his mind and chases me down on foot, slamming his arms against my car like a rioter.

Before I pull away from camp, his friends on the baseball team gather around that big white Ford truck. Both of its back tires are so flat they melt into the black pavement. By the flock of birds being shot in my direction, it’s safe to assume they believe it’s my handiwork. I wouldn’t admit it to them, but I’m not creative enough nor do I care enough to do anything like that. But God bless the guy who did. He deserves an airplane prayer just for being awesome. I wish Terrence was still at camp to see it.

“So were you really not going to tell me it was your birthday?” Micah asks from across his bedroom.

Damn. I really hoped Zoey would forget and not tell Micah. I don’t want to make a big deal out of it. It’s just seventeen. It’s not like I can buy cigarettes and get into 18+ clubs. It’s not legal drinking age. Not that I drink, smoke, or go clubbing but at least they’re rites of passage.

“It’s not a big deal,” I tell him. I try that nonchalant thing, but I really suck at it.

He doesn’t buy it anyway. “It is a big deal. And we’re going out tonight.” He doesn’t ask. He usually isn’t so demanding.

I walk over to his bed and sit next to him. “Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

He deserves fair warning. “I don’t do well with surprises.”

“Go back to camp and take a shower,” he demands. “Try to tame that hair too.” He reaches over and runs his fingers through the shaggy mess at the nape of my neck. It takes everything in me not to shiver.

I take it he wants me to look presentable. “Do I need to dress to impress?” I ask. I’m only half-joking.

“Couldn’t hurt.”

“Who am I trying to impress?”

“No one. You’ve already got me.”

He pushes me back on the bed and hovers over me. He knows I hate this, the whole lingering anticipation waiting to know if he’s going to lean in and kiss me or if he’s just playing around. More than anything, I want to grab him by his shoulders and pull him down on me. I want to bite down on his lip to make sure he doesn’t try to pry himself away.

“Do I have to go back to camp? Zach Perry thinks I let the air out of his tires, and he was completely pissed when I left,” I say.

Micah stands up. “Seriously? Did you do it?”

“I thought you knew me better than that,” I say. “I wish I had. I’m not that clever.”

Micah sighs. “You don’t have to go back, but I kind of wanted to pick you up and make it like, you know, an official date.”

If he wants me to dress to impress, I’ll have to go back to camp anyway. All of my semi-dressy clothes are there. For Micah’s sake, I’ll risk another argument with Zach.

“Okay, you win. What time will be you there?” I ask.

“Six o’clock,” he says. His sneaky smile scares me a bit.

I push myself off of the bed and face him. I can’t take it. I grasp the back of his neck and tug at him, hoping he’ll meet me halfway. He laughs and pulls back, shaking his head.

“I can’t have one for the road?” I ask.

“I’ll see you in a few hours.” He migrates to his closet. He tosses a pair of dark blue jeans onto the bed and looks back at me.

I don’t move. “You’re not going to pimp me out tonight, are you? Seventeen doesn’t make prostitution legal, you know.”

He doesn’t want to smile, but one stretches across his face, and he laughs. “No, I wouldn’t, only because I’d be jealous.”

At least he admits it.

When I walk back out to my car, something is off. I glance around, but everything is in place. The tree of skulls. Micah’s truck. The dirt roads. And then it clicks – the lanterns. The strand hangs loosely to one side of the porch, like the wind unhooked them and left them to dangle. I walk back toward Micah’s porch, grab the strand of lanterns, and string them up across the rim of the roof.

All of Micah’s words repeat in my head as I search through the folded shirts that I actually put in my dresser drawer. I wanted that top bucket moment to be the “three little words” moment, but there’s no telling what he was going to say. It could’ve been anything.
“Ridge, I think this is awesome.” “Ridge, I feel like I’m going to be sick.” “Ridge, I hate you for dragging me up here.” “Ridge, I’d rather be playing Xbox.”

But that doesn’t keep me from dwelling on the
‘Ridge, I’
and wishful thinking. I’m thankful that Mom forced me into bringing a few “nice” shirts. They’re not being used for any of her possible ideas – awards night or sports banquet – but this is the first real date I’ve had in a while.

I attempt to smooth out the few creases in my polo shirt as I tuck it into my jeans. I feel ridiculous, like when Samantha rummages through my closet and chooses my wardrobe for me because she wants to make sure I don’t look too out of place when we hang out with certain groups of people. Most of the time she’s cool with a T-shirt and jeans, but every once in a while, I have to go a little beyond my comfort zone. Tonight, I’m completely out of my comfort zone.

Micah’s leaning against his truck when I walk outside. He wears a black button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and it looks classic with jeans. I want to walk over to him, pin him between my body and his truck, and kiss his neck until he tells me I have to stop. But I can’t. Not in the camp’s parking lot. And definitely not with these damn grasshoppers beating against my ribcage. Instead I give a half-smile, and I sit in his passenger seat.