This Is Falling (7 page)

“You were on my lap, and then all of a
sudden, your entire body went limp. The girl that was balancing on
you fell, too. She hit her head hard!” He cringes, and I feel
terrible; all I want to do now is find that quiet, curly-haired
girl I took out with me.

“Is she okay?”

“I think so. Her friend was with her and took
her to the health center. She was walking though, so I’m sure she’s
fine,” Nate says, lifting me up to a stand by pulling under my
arms. His hand quickly finds its way to my back again, and despite
the cold sweat covering my body, I feel a rush of heat.

During our walk back to the dorm, Ty invites
everyone to hang out in his and Nate’s room; I notice Paige perk up
at that thought. She’s standing on the other side of Nate, asking
him question after question—about baseball and what position he
plays, and what his number is, and what time his games are so she
can watch. He’s giving her clipped answers, which strangely pleases
me.

“I know sometimes practices are open. I’d
love to come watch you play,” Paige says, grabbing ahold of his
other arm and looking at him with the most annoying doe eyes I’ve
ever seen. Something inside me snaps; I shirk away from his side
and wrap my arms around my midsection, squeezing.

“Yeah, maybe you can come watch and analyze
his swing, tell him he dips his shoulder too much, and that’s why
he doesn’t get the pop he should off the bat,” I mumble to myself,
rolling my eyes while I look out at the buildings leading up to our
dorm. I barely finish my sentence when Nate’s hand finds my
shoulder again, and he spins me to look at him.

“Say that again,” he says slowing us down
enough, Paige has to continue with Ty, Cass, and a few of the other
students who live on our floor.

“Nothing.” I’m squeezing myself tighter now,
wishing I didn’t just throw a baby fit because I was jealous.

“That was not
nothing
, and you know
it. How do you know I dip my shoulder? And how do you know what
dipping a shoulder
means?” he asks, his eyes squinted, a
hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He looks at me
while we continue now, well behind our friends.

If I could have one super power, I would want
the ability to enact re-dos in life. Because right now, all I want
to do is relive the last two minutes and keep my damn mouth shut.
But since that’s not going to happen…

“I Googled you.” I feel like an idiot.

“You…
Googled
me?”

“Yeah, I Googled you. After our lunch, I
wanted to see how good you were, because I could tell you were
being modest.
And you were being modest, by the way. The Indians
wanted you
!
”
This is called diarrhea of the mouth.

“You…
Googled
me,” he says again, his
accent making that word sound so much better than it does when it
leaves my lips.

“Yeah, well…your on-base percentage is
impressive. So I found a video and watched it. Noticed your swing.
That’s it.” I actually feel angry now, and I don’t know why.

“You watched my swing. And…
on-base
percentage?
” He seems shocked that I know what I’m talking
about, and for some reason, it pisses me off.

“You’re being kinda sexist, don’t you think?”
I say, picking up my step to catch up with the others.

“I’m sorry…you’re cyber-stalking me, and I’m
the one being creepy?” he asks, half laughing.

“First of all, I didn’t call you creepy, I
called you sexist. And I wasn’t stalking you. I just like to do a
little background checking on people before I trust them. And you
stalked me first, mister
Rowe with an E
on Facebook!” I
actually huff that last part out and am somehow able to hear how
crazy my rant sounds. I look at him from the corner of my eye and
catch his snicker. Soon we’re both laughing.

“Fair enough,” he says. “Okay, just tell me
this. How do you know so much about baseball?”

“My dad coaches for a high school. I’m a bit
of a sponge for knowledge. And when you’re homeschooled, you end up
watching a lot of day games on television,” I say, my mind trying
to block out all of Josh’s games I used to watch.

Nate’s stare is intense, and he doesn’t say
anything for a while, which only makes my discomfort grow. By the
time we reach the dorm, my head is pounding—partly from my fainting
spell, and partly from the stress now rolling over and over inside
me. When the elevator reaches our floor, everyone turns toward Nate
and Ty’s room, but I stop.

“Aren’t you coming?” Nate asks. I catch
Paige’s eyes looking at me over his shoulder, begging me not to. A
defining moment—and I know that if I went, this flirting thing I’ve
been doing with Nate would only continue. And where could that
possibly go?

“I can’t. I’m still not feeling so well. I’m
going to go to bed. But you guys have fun. I’ll catch up with you
later,” I say, the strange tinge of regret eating away at my
insides.

Nate doesn’t respond, but his smile fades,
and he sucks in his bottom lip while he studies me with his eyes. I
raise my hand and hold it up with a still wave before turning down
my hall to head to my room. It takes me a minute or two to finesse
my key from my pocket, and when I finally have it in the lock, I
feel my heart actually sting. I just gave up on something because
I’m
afraid
. And it hurts.

Chapter
7

Nate

Everyone crashed in our room last night. One
of the hazards of being the room that sneaks in alcohol—everyone
sort of stays for the party.

Cass and Ty seem comfortable, cuddled up in
the corner of his bed. She’s different for him. Normally, he’d be
hot after her sister, who is completely wrapped up in the blanket
on my bed, her dress hiked up enough that I’m literally staring at
the underwear hugging her ass.

We all did shots last night, but I stopped
after one or two. No one noticed; I think that Paige chick thought
I was just as lit up as she was. I let her crawl into my bed, and I
even entertained the idea of making out with her. But she had this
giggling fit over dumb shit she was saying, and it was so damned
annoying, it helped me keep my head on straight.

If I ever want to curl up in my bed with
Rowe, I can’t entertain myself with her roommate. So I let Paige
lay on my chest until her giggling stopped and she passed out. Then
I crawled over her and slipped out of the door to the study lounge
and slept on that miserable-ass sofa for a few hours.

I need my shoes. That’s the only reason I’m
back in this room right now. And I think I can get to them. I just
hope Paige doesn’t wake up while I’m in here. I can barely stand
her on two shots of tequila. I think sober me would want to run
from this room screaming.

“Pssssst.” Ty’s head is lifted from his
pillow, and he’s motioning for me to come closer.

“Hey dude. I have workouts. Just gonna grab
my shoes and take off. I’ll be back around noon. Wanna grab lunch
at Sally’s?” I try to keep my voice in a low whisper so I don’t
wake up Cass.

“Yeah, I’m fucking hungry, yo,” he says,
rubbing his stomach.

“You were pretty much on the liquid diet last
night,” I say, patting him once on the shoulder while I sit on the
edge of his bed and slip my foot in my shoe. “All right, I’ll see
you later. Maybe…let’s meet there? I don’t want to have to run
into…”

I nod my head to my bed where Paige is still
deep asleep. Ty lifts an eyebrow at me and I shake my head
no
.

“She passed out. I slept in the lounge,” I
say, finally standing.

“Hey,” he whispers just as I’m about to go. I
look at him, and he lifts his head a little more, looking over at
Paige again and then back at me. “Why’d you lie about your middle
name and your birthday?”

I was wondering when he’d give me crap over
that. I lean over to make sure Cass is asleep this time. When I
look back at him, I just wink, and he chuckles softly, slapping his
hand to his forehead.

“You’re a hopeless romantic,” he says. “I’ll
make sure Cass knows you slept in the lounge. Don’t want any of
that
getting misunderstood.”

“Thanks, man,” I say, giving him
knuckles.

I wait at the elevator for a few extra
minutes, and then I decide to take the stairs, which are closer to
Rowe’s end of the hall. The closer I get to her room, the less I
breathe, trying to listen for any sign of her being awake. But the
bottom of her door is dark. She’s either still asleep or long gone.
Either way, she’s going to realize her roommates never came home.
And I hope like hell my brother keeps his word.

Rowe

I woke up early since I never showered last
night. I figured most of the dorm would be asleep, so I could take
my shower alone. Seems anytime after eleven and before six is
good.

Paige and Cass were both gone, or they never
came home. I suspect it’s the latter. I spend my entire shower
wondering where Paige slept, wondering if Nate paid any attention
to her. Since she’s not here, I’m guessing he did, and I hate that
my mind keeps conjuring up visions of her sitting on his lap,
kissing his neck, making out with him. Jealousy is the theme of the
day, I’m afraid.

My laptop keeps staring at me. I haven’t
written him in two days. Ross says it’s good for me to write to
him, but he also says I shouldn’t make it a ritual; I should make
it something I do when I need it. When I want to feel better about
things. And I want to now. But it feels wrong to write to Josh
about another boy.

I flip my laptop open anyway, and go right to
my Facebook messages to read the few sentences Nate sent me. Then I
click into his profile and sift through his pictures. There are a
lot of him with his brother, and a few of him with his family. He
looks just like his dad—sharp, angular jawline, and the clear
grayish-blue eyes. His mom is beautiful, dark black hair, blue
eyes, and a tiny frame.

I decide to keep going, flipping through some
photos from his high school. There’s a girl in a few of them,
mostly the ones that look like they’re from some dance or
something, and she’s pretty too. She looks like an athlete, her
arms are muscular and there’s just something about her smile that
looks strong—fearless. Her hair is close to the same color as
mine—almost a muddy brown. From the number of photos of them
together, I would guess they had been together for a while.

There are a few more photos that are more
recent, and those are the ones I’m obsessing over. They look like
they were taken this summer, and there’s a different girl in every
one—and a lot of them look like Paige. Each time I click to a new
scene, I see Ty and Nate, holding a beer in one hand and a girl in
the other. Sometimes the girl is on Nate’s lap, and other times
he’s carrying her around on his back. His stupid charming smile is
the only thing that stays the same.

I click my message button and start to
type:

I’ve survived two days, but I don’t know
about this college thing. To be fair, I haven’t gone to class yet.
That part will probably be easy. But…

I stop and stare at the screen, because I’m
about to veer in a new direction with Josh. Closing my eyes, I hear
Ross’s voice in my head—“write to him when you need it.”

I need Josh. And I need him now.

…
there’s this boy. There, I said it. I
know it’s weird for me to write this to you, but I don’t have
anyone else. I think he likes me, but I don’t know. I think I like
him, but…you know? I’ve only known him for about 48 hours, but I’ve
thought about him for 47. He’s a baseball player, like you. Well,
except he’s really good (no offense).

I totally Googled him—I didn’t tell him
this, but I’ve seen every tape of his games posted on his high
school’s website. Dad would love him—he’s a catcher. You know how
my dad feels about catchers. “They’re the heart and the soul of the
team, Rowe.”

I know, so what’s my problem, right? Well,
I’m just not very good at this…this…boy-girl thing. I don’t even
know what to call it. When I was with you, though, it was just
easy. You wrote me a note in class one day, told me you liked me,
and asked if I liked you back. I told you I did, and then boom! We
were boyfriend-girlfriend. Up until we weren’t.

With Nate (that’s his name), there’s no
note. Yeah, he said I was hot. Or, he sort of said I was hot. He
actually said the way I wear my shoes is hot, and I’m not sure that
counts, but then he hung out with my roommate in his room all
night. Not the cool one, he hung out with her too, but she was
there for his brother. Long story. Anyhow, I could have gone, too.
I was the one he invited, but then I just froze.

I’m frozen, Josh. And I don’t know how to
get unstuck. I know you won’t answer. I know you don’t have an
answer to give me. But I wish you did.

Oh, and I think Ross might be full of shit.
Because I don’t feel any better. Like, at all.

Love,

Rowe

What I need to do is be more like my friend
Betsy. Betsy wouldn’t think—she would just act. Maybe that’s the
new mantra I need to follow: “What would Betsy do?”

I know what she would do right now. She would
march over to Nate’s room and barge right in just like she belonged
there.
Be like Betsy. Be like Betsy.
I tip my head over my
knees and run my fingers through my wet hair, fluffing it out into
waves.

Be like Betsy. Be like Betsy.
I stuff
my feet into my sneakers, grab my wallet and keys, and shove them
into my back pockets after I pull my door closed behind me. The
hallway is quiet, because it’s still painfully early. I’m careful
with my steps, like I’m sneaking up on someone. All I can hear is
the thump of my pulse in my ears, and I’m worried it’s distracting
me—keeping me from hearing someone coming.