How I Fly (16 page)

Harrison recovers his shocked expression and says, “Sorry about this morning, dude. I was kind of rushed

and not as polite as I should have been. No one gave me any warning. Not a phone call, not a note, nothing. I was annoyed because I hate surprises. I’m also not exactly fun in the morning as a general rule. Hope you understand.” He’s layering on a bigger smile, but I get the idea he’s kind of angry.

I gasp. “Oh, Harrison. I think it’s my fault you didn’t get notified! I pulled some sort of official note off your door last night. I was going to give it to you when we met up at the pond to take photos, but then…” I blush. “We never got to the pond and so…” I blush more, and my voice loses all its strength. “I—I—bet that’s the letter that says something about Cam’s arrival. Sorry.”

Harrison walks over and takes my bag off my shoulder. “Well, if that’s why, then it’s totally forgiven.” He winks and smiles, pulling my hand off one of my crutches. “Considering last night was the best night of my life.”

Although I think I’ve just died, and Patrick’s eyes bug out and then back in all while Laura looks like she might have swallowed a live rabbit and she wants to run out of here, Cam’s expression, thankfully hasn’t changed.

Cam smiles softly at me like this is all okay, while Laura and Patrick manage to slam their shocked open mouths into fake smiles that look rather serene and calm. I’m sure they’re doing it so Harrison doesn’t catch on to just how deeply wrong this all feels to the four of us. Their reactions make me feel safe and very protected—as well as slightly sad. And because they’re all so sweet—Harrison included—I realize I don’t have to worry if Cam and I can be friends at all.

We are. We already are. And all of this, all of us, is going to be fine once we adjust.

I turn my attention to Harrison, because I know it’s up to me to smooth over some of this awkwardness. I make sure my voice comes out soft and steady. “How was class? Sorry I missed it.”

“Class was good. Really good.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cam actually bite his lip so he doesn’t laugh out loud, as Harrison adds, “I thought you were sick. You look like…” Harrison seems to be worriedly scanning my face. “Well…you look good.” Thankfully the red puffiness must have faded.

“I’m—yeah—
good
,” I say, biting my own lip because saying the word
good
is setting off random giggles all over again, and I think if I laugh in Harrison’s face, it’s going to be impossible to explain why. Quickly I go on: “I think we should all skip lab time today and go to a long lunch so we can catch up.”

“Good. Really good idea.” Laura rubs her stomach.

I bust out laughing on that one, as does Cam, because I think we both know it’s not out of the ordinary if we crack up at Laura London.

“What?” Laura jumps up and down. “I’m good-n-hungry. It’s not a bloody crime, is it? Good God.”

I laugh more. So does Cam.

Harrison frowns, and I don’t blame him, because we are now acting more than strange and it’s obvious Cam and I are sharing some sort of private joke. Glowering now, Harrison glances doubtfully between all of us. “I’m not sure I want to miss my lab time, and quite honestly, I feel like I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Maybe just for a bit, dude? A fast way to get to know each other?” Cam asks.

“Yes. Please do come. We’ll share all of our Brights Grove stories with you,” Laura adds.

Harrison makes a face, as if Laura’s suggested we go dig holes or something, but as Laura bounces over to Cam and clings happily to his arm, I get that she’s trying to make everything okay—for me, for Harrison—and she’s probably trying to shield Cam from Patrick, who looks like he might kill someone. And that someone might be Cam.

I shoot her a grateful smile and touch Harrison’s hand.

“Please, Harrison?” I ask. “It’s…I need you to come, just for a bit.”

Harrison nods. “For you. Only for you.”

“Thanks.” Suddenly, I’m so relieved that the four of us are back together, and that Harrison’s trying to be understanding even when he has every right to be annoyed as heck, that I pull in a huge deep breath. A breath that makes me realize I probably haven’t breathed normally since Cam disappeared from our lives. I cling to Harrison’s hand now and give it a squeeze as I start bawling between my laughter.

I hear Harrison say, “Ellen. You’re not okay. Is she okay? Does she do this a lot? Patrick? Laura? Holy crap. I seriously think she is not
good.
”

I start laugh-crying more, and my gaze skates over to Cam, who looks like he’s also about to start laughing again. Or possibly crying along with me.

Patrick puts his hand on Cam’s shoulder, and then answers for me: “She’s good. I didn’t think she would be, but yeah. I think she’s really, really good. We all are.”

I start laugh-crying more.

Ellen

I’ve stopped at Harrison’s room—
Harrison and Cam’s room
—on the way to my evening swim. The door’s cracked open, so I peek inside while I knock.

Harrison’s voice is muffled as he calls out, “Ellen, hi. Come in.”

I crutch around the door and breathe a sigh of relief when I realize Cam’s not in here. “How did you know it was me?”

“I heard your crutches. Is one of your legs bothering you? You were way slower than usual.”

“Saving the energy for the pool, that’s all,” I answer, trying not to feel stung by his comment.

He’s pulled his head out of the closet and he’s got his glasses on, which always makes him seem gentle and cute. The way he’s smiling that
happy-to-see-you
, dimple-dimple grin at me makes me think he didn’t mean to sound harsh. I’m sure I’m being too sensitive. I know he’s been noticing my slow ways ever since my episode in the stairwell, and how could he not? I’m a bit of a shocker sometimes. Now that he’s totally out of his crutches and only left with his boot, he’s almost back to a normal gait. As if to prove my thoughts, he walks effortlessly over while holding a pile of laundry, pausing to place a fast kiss on my lips on his way across the room. “Cam and I are doing some rearranging in here.”

I let my gaze wander the room, steeling myself for anything of Cam’s that might catch my heart, trip me up, or remind me of our past, but from the looks of things, Cam’s brought almost nothing. A plain retro-looking wool blanket tops his bed along with two overstuffed-looking bed pillows that his mom must have bought for him. Only his heavy canvas jacket is visible as a personal item, while everything else he owns seems still unpacked and zipped in a canvas duffel bag under his bed. It’s like Cam’s just out of the military while Harrison robbed the entire Urban Outfitters store.

That’s when I realize why Harrison’s going back and forth from his closet to the other one. “You’re changing room sides! Why?”

He shoots me a wink. “I couldn’t let your ex-boyfriend sleep in the bed where you and I kissed, now could I? It’s already too strange that he’s here at all. This side of the room has magic memories, and I want to keep them all mine.” He winks and pats the bed where we first made out.

I blush, glancing around.

“Where is he?”

“Worried the ex is going to catch us kissing?”

“Stop.” I blush harder. “We only dated two week. He’s hardly this huge, dramatic
ex
-boyfriend.”

“That’s not what that blabbermouth Laura told me.”

“She’s not a blabbermouth, and you know she exaggerates everything.”

“So what is Cam to you, then, if he’s not your ex? Because Laura said you were star-crossed lovers, in her words,
more tragic-and-mystical-and-magical than Romeo and Juliet’s beautiful sad love story
.”

I laugh, hoping to change the subject. “Isn’t Laura the cutest?”

“Hardly.” Harrison scowls. “I asked Cam what he was to you, and his story was rather different.”

“Oh, okay.” My heart flips. “What did he say?” I try to keep my voice light and laughing even though it feels like rocks have just pushed up into my throat. Harrison’s watching my face like a hawk, and I don’t want to hurt the guy.

“He said you two were—are—mostly just friends. You met as on the WOA project, and that’s how you started dating. The guy downplayed the ex-girlfriend factor, just how you did. I feel like I need some sort of solid definition from you as well as to how you think about Cam so I can feel better about all of this.” He shrugs, pointing around his dismantled room.

I smile softly, feeling sorry for Harrison. I honestly don’t know how I would handle this if the situation were reversed. “Go with Cam’s version, please. We were close friends. We
are
close friends. We shared only…a
few
kisses. And if there was any sort of relationship there?” I shrug. “We were only juniors and I’d never had a boyfriend before. Laura loves the story because Cam was this popular football dude and I was this nerdy limping girl whom everyone ignored. So, you can imagine we had zero in common.” I try to make my lie convincing. “Before we could get serious he and I…well. You know the story. I fell and he…moved. It’s history, and you and I are happening now, so please don’t let it get to you.” I almost choke then, because I’ve noticed how all of those half-truths have layered into the back of my throat until they sounded sincere and real even to me. So much so that I can hardly breathe. I suppose as much as my head and Harrison are here and now, my heart is taking much longer to catch up now that my past has crashed back to earth.

Harrison stacks socks and shorts into his dresser. “That’s pretty much exactly what Cam said to me.” He pauses to examine my face, and I manage to hold my calm, quiet smile. “Your similar stories make me feel much better.” He sighs. “Because I don’t think I could take living with him for the rest of the summer and watching you hang around with him if you two had been anything more, you know?”

I nod, mostly because I can’t answer anything else without lying more to him.

“Look. I’m sorry I feel all pissed off like I’m fixated on this, but do you blame me? Today at lunch, with all of you laughing and crying and Laura hugging all over him like he’s her long-lost brother? And then Patrick—who’s supposed to be one of my best friends here—got over his surprise and was just acting the same as Laura and you. Shit, I hate to be all pathetic and needy, but I’m the obvious fifth wheel here.”

“No. Harrison, you’re not that. You’re awesome.”

“Really?” He blinks at me, waggling his brows. “Am I anything else?”

“And you’re cute. And you have the best hair and dimples of all of us. And we adore you.”

“I don’t care about ‘we.’ I care about you. A ton. You.”

“Aww.” I pull in a huge breath, trying to keep the tremors out of my voice, because he’s said all of this and he’s probably been worrying like heck about it, so I feel really bad. “And you’re my
boyfriend,
which means you’re not anyone’s fifth wheel, you’re my…first wheel!”

He tosses a sock at me, and then frowns when I can’t catch it fast enough and it falls with a thunk at my feet. “That’s what I was waiting to hear.”

“It’s so cute that you switched room sides. I’m sorry this whole situation is beyond strange. Give it—us—a week, and it’s all going to settle and feel normal. Trust me.”

Harrison shakes his head. “How can it ever feel normal? For the record, you and I’ve dated for less than two weeks, and I feel like I can’t live without you, so…forgive me if I can hardly believe that Cam Campbell wasn’t so in love with you.”

I swallow and look away, forcing my mind to not think of the letter Cam sent me. The necklace. The truth.

Harrison sighs. “Ellen, the guy also crushed your legs. Even I saw it on the news way back when it all went down. Then I saw it on Facebook so many times when it all went viral. When you guys told me the story, I about died. I couldn’t believe that was actually you and him—and Huron High—and damn! You were sort of famous! So forgive me if what happened to you never seems normal to me. I can hardly believe you have it in your heart to forgive the guy.”

My chest grows tight, as I remember. “Patrick, Laura and I were all standing right there when it happened. None of what you saw or heard is even true. It was all an accident that was actually my fault.”

“On the video, you weren’t
standing
. You were flying through the air like someone had shot you out of a cannon. Cam was the one who literally crushed you up into those bleachers head-flipping-first before that other dude smashed you down. I totally get why Patrick wanted to kill him. Laura also told me all about that. She also mentioned how Cam left you alone that whole time without ever once contacting you.”

“He did contact me. Once. And the rest of the time, he couldn’t.”

“Well, Patrick told me how much you’ve cried over that dude breaking things off with you—and frankly, after hearing all of that, I have my own urges to pound the crap out of him myself.”

“Well. Don’t. Please. Just don’t,” I whisper. “I do not want to fight about this—about Cam. Please.”

Harrison’s face crumples and his shoulders slump. “Oh crap. Are we fighting?”

“If we keep talking in this direction, yes.”

“Damn. I think you’re right, and it would be a fight about…nothing that has to do with the two of us.”

“Exactly. I’m so happy you said that.” I sigh again. “Look. This is the only time I want to talk about what happened, because it just hurts me too much to bring it all up, but I think deserve to be placed on the inside of all of the gossip.”

“Why? Why do you think I deserve that? I think I’ve just been an ass to you. Enough to cause an almost-fight, which was not my intent. Hell.” He runs a hand through that thick mop of hair and puts his glasses into the front pocket of his shirt. “I don’t think I deserve anything at all. It’s just that I’m falling for you. And now the thought of anyone making you sad or hurting you or…stealing you away from me. It all sort of makes me insane—so no—don’t put me on the inside. Kick me out if you want, but if you are going to do that please do it right now. Don’t torture me.”

I smile. “Truth is, I’ve already got you on the inside of my heart, or you couldn’t have upset me how you did.”

“See? I’m such an ass. I’m so sorry.”

I grin. “I also couldn’t have kissed you how I did the other night if my feelings for you weren’t strong and going in the same direction as yours. I—think I’m falling for you, too. Heck, I know I’ve already fallen too far to look back into all the things that happened to me during my junior year, that’s for sure. I want to look forward, and I love…looking straight at you.”

“Aww, sweet—”

I hold up my hand. “Wait. Let me finish. You know me pretty well now. You know Patrick and Laura too, but you don’t know Cam. All I can say is trust them and trust me. There are a thousand versions of what happened floating around. There’s also a bunch of private stuff about how Cam’s parents suck and how he ended up staying in British Columbia last semester that I have no right to discuss. Both of our lives were simply too messed up for things to work out between us, and, like I said, we were so far out of each other’s circles there was a good chance it wasn’t going to work out anyhow. But what happened? It happened to me and it happened to Cam, and the entire thing sucked. So, for the sake of not hurting me again, please don’t bring it up—not with me and not with him—or hold it against him in any way. The entire thing was, in fact, my fault. I fell. Think of how we met. How you fell and how I fell? That day, I stumbled at the wrong time. The part you saw in the video was simply a dandelion caught under the feet of a buffalo stampede.”

“How about you call yourself a rose, not a dandelion?” His smile seems sad.

I shake my head, loving that he said that. “Cam’s a really great friend. And as your first dorm roommate, he’s going to be
your
friend for life. I don’t want my presence or our relationship to mess any of that up for you. That guy is as amazing as you are. He also knows so much about photography and lighting and camera lenses and equipment. He’s a true fine artist who can teach you things about this photography passion that we all share. So, for that reason alone, you two deserve to give this friendship a chance. There are not enough photography nerds to go around, and it’s important we find each other and keep each other forever. Okay?”

“Okay…but”—Harrison pauses in front of me with another load of his things—”you swear you two only shared a couple of kisses?”

“Yes.”

“And we’ve kissed one, two, three…hmmm, wait.” He leans in, staring at my eyes. I’m drawn toward how he smells like a walk in the woods. “How many kisses would you say you and I were up to after last night?”

I blush because his face is so close to mine. “This is not any sort of competition.”

“Maybe not for you, but just in case, I’m going to have to up my quotient before I let you go to the pool. Can I?”

I nod, unable to speak because he’s just made my heart beat too fast.

He sets his laundry pile down, then leans in closer and presses his soft, warm, smiling lips against mine. I’m startled when he captures my bottom lip in his, giving it a small tug. Then, as I gasp in surprise, he deepens the kiss and is sliding his tongue over mine. This kiss is different than how he kissed me last night. This kiss feels possessive—sexy, but also like he’s trying to stake his claim.

To show him he doesn’t have to worry, I deepen the kiss on my side, testing again how his lips feel meshing with mine. But instead of getting lost in the kiss, I find myself analyzing it—and him—and us.

*Ponders: This is kissing. This is kissing Harrison Shaw…and his kisses are nice. Better than nice.*

Finally I’m able to relax some. Somewhere, as he pulls me closer, I’m realizing kissing Harrison Shaw is becoming this combination of me and him, and not anything like the kisses from my past that I shared with anyone else.

*Thinks: That’s why they feel different. And that’s why my heart flips differently. Because this is just a different guy’s lips mixed with my lips. My heart getting to know his. And so it’s bound to feel so very different. Nice…but different. Right? Right…?*