Deeper We Fall

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “Yeah,” I said. This was the first time we’d been sort of alone.

  “You make her happy, you know,” he said, shuffling from one foot to another and hunching his shoulders in the cold. “Lottie,” he said, as if I didn’t know who he was talking about.

  “She lights up when she sees you. Even before you got together. Even when she was pretending to hate you.”

  A group of half-naked girls stumbled past us, yelling about something. They cheered as they walked up the steps, and there were cheers inside as well.

  “I’m not saying that it makes me happy. I also don’t get how she can flip from wanting you to burn in hell to making out with you in such a short time, but I’ve made some questionable dating decisions myself, so…” Clearly, the gift of conversation was genetic. That almost made me smile.

  “What I’m trying to say is that I’m not going to stand in your way.” He held out his hand. I stared at it for a second, and then shook it with mine.

  “From what I’ve seen, you’re a good guy. You just did a bad thing, and you’ve been paying for it. But I guess you’re not the only one.” He jerked his chin at Zack, who was slumped over on the armrest of the bench.

  He didn’t really know what he was talking about, but I let it go. I’d always let it go.

  “That looks like the cab.” Lights swept over the lawn and pulled into the circular driveway. “Hold on a sec and I’ll get Lottie.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll call her later.” I didn’t want to see Charlotte’s face right now. Seeing everything written on her face would just turn this shitty night into an even shittier one.

  I’d been a moron to think this could work with her.

  With Will’s help, I got Zack into the cab.

  “Tell Charlotte I’ll call her when I can. I want to know how Katie’s doing.”

  “I will. Have a good night.”

  Not likely.

  I got in the cab and gave the driver the name of our dorm.

  “Fuck you,” Zack mumbled beside me, rousing from his stupor.

  “Right back at you.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Lottie

  Audrey was able to get Katie calmed down enough to get her out of the party and start walking back to the dorm. There definitely wasn’t anyone sober enough to offer us a ride, and Katie refused to take a cab.

  Luckily, we had Will and Simon and Stryker for protection, because there were definitely a lot of creeps out. Halloween really brought out the hooligans. Will had given me Zan’s message about calling when he could. It stung that he left, but I understood his reasoning. Besides, I didn’t want to be within shooting distance of Zack Parker right now because I didn’t fancy getting arrested.

  No one really talked much as we walked back until Katie’s teeth started chattering loudly. She’d forgotten her coat back at the frat house and refused to take anyone else’s.

  “For the love of Christ,” Stryker said, shrugging off his cape and draping it over her shoulders.

  “I don’t want it,” she said, the words taking several tries to get out because of her chattering teeth.

  “Tough luck, sweetheart.”

  He wrapped her up like a burrito and she was too cold to fight him. As soon as he had it secured, he pulled the collar up, turned around and kept walking.

  The night had been a bust, so we all went to our separate rooms, and Stryker dragged Trish to his car, despite her protestations.

  “If you need anything, call me,” she said as he pulled her along.

  “I will.”

  Audrey helped me get Katie to our room, and Will and Simon left us to it.

  “Will everyone stop staring at me? It’s really pissing me off,” Katie said as we shut the door. I shared a look with Audrey, but we just ignored her.

  “Katie, we’re just concerned about you.”

  “Yeah, well, I have parents for that. I don’t need you doing it too.” She grabbed one of her pink pillows and hurled it onto my side of the room. “Everything just gets so fucked up.”

  She threw another pillow. Then another until her bed was bare. Then she screamed at the top of her lungs and hurled herself on the bed.

  It was going to be a long night.

  ***

  Audrey ended up crashing on our floor, on a mattress made from all those effing pillows.

  I didn’t know what else to do but make Ramen noodles and put on a Law and Order marathon. There was always at least one on some random cable channel.

  We kept the room dark, and didn’t talk about the party. Katie kept her dress on, but I took mine off, and Audrey borrowed some of Katie’s pjs, since mine wouldn’t fit.

  My phone rang, but I didn’t answer it. I sent Zan a text saying that we’d gotten back fine and I was taking care of Katie.

  I wanted to ask if we were still on for the next day, but he was probably busy taking care of Zack, so I didn’t want to pressure him about it.

  I was the last one to get to sleep, based on the deep quiet breathing of Audrey and Katie’s snoring.

  She had to break up with him. Sooner or later, he was going to destroy her. Destroy her just like he’d destroyed Lexie. I wouldn’t stand by and watch this time. No, it stopped now.

  I rehearsed what I would say for the rest of the night, getting only a few hours of sleep.

  First to rise, I got up and went to the bathroom, and when I came back Audrey was awake.

  “How did you sleep?”

  “Like I was on a cloud, actually. They should start making pillow beds.” She stretched out and yawned.

  “Hungry?”

  “Not really. I think I’ll go back to my room.”

  “Like that?” I indicated the pink tank top and sweatpants she was wearing.

  “I’ve got my coat.”

  I hated asking her for something. “Um, Aud?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I might be going out today. Do you think you could take Katie out? Or watch movies with her, or something? I don’t want her to be alone so she won’t think going back to him is a good idea.”

  “Sure. Just let me go back to my room and get some stuff and I’ll be back.”

  “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “I try.”

  I went to take a shower, and I had to wash my face about four times to get all the makeup off. Such a waste.

  Katie was awake when I got back, her hand in a box of cookies and a stupid reality show on the TV.

  “Hey,” I said, closing the door.

  “Hey,” she replied around a mouthful of cookies.

  “Don’t choke.”

  “Whatever.”

  She still had her dress on. It was wrinkled, and her hair resembled a haystack. Tracks of mascara still crossed her face.

  “Do you want to get breakfast? We could go out. I’ll buy.”

  “Nope.”

  I brushed out my hair and sat down on my bed.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do you want to go up to the roof and throw things off and watch them explode when they land?”

  “Nope.”

  Well, I was shit out of luck.

  Katie stared at the TV until Audrey came back. Katie’s phone was blowing up, but she just glanced at it, but didn’t touch it.

  “Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to watch some movies. I know you haven’t seen Breakfast Club, so I brought it up.” Her hair was wet and twirled back into a bun, and she had leggings and a sweatshirt on. I’d never seen Audrey so casual.

  “Nope.”

  “I brought chocolate.” At that, Katie finally looked away from the TV.

  “What kind?” I breathed a sigh of relief as Audrey handed her the box.

  I said I was going to brush my teeth and went to call Zan.

  He didn’t pick up until the fourth ring.

  “Hey,” I said, leaning against the wall. “I was just checking to see if we were still on for today.”

  �
��Charlotte,” he said. For the first time, I didn’t like the way my name sounded when he said it.

  I waited and listened to him breathe.

  “Only if you still want to,” he said.

  Did he really think that was going to change things? Silly boy.

  “Of course I do. Last night had nothing to do with you.”

  “I wish that were true.”

  “I want to see you,” I said, because it was true. “You owe me a dance.”

  I could almost hear his smile.

  “Meet you in the lobby in ten minutes?” Usually we met in his room, but I wasn’t going to argue.

  “As long as you bring tea and Pop Tarts. Oh, and your banjo.”

  “Promise.”

  “See you in ten.”

  “Bye.”

  Zan

  After the cab had dropped us off in front of our building, I’d gotten Zack to his room and into bed, much to the confusion and dismay of his roommate.

  “What the hell?”

  “Sorry. He’ll probably just sleep it off.” I could have taken him to my room but I was done with taking care of him for one night. I was done with his shit, done with his drinking and fucking girls and fucking up.

  I left his room and ended up going for an angry run in the dark. This time I brought a flashlight, but that didn’t stop me from falling a few times because I couldn’t be bothered to watch the ground as my feet hit it. Running on the track would have been safer in my condition, but I welcomed the pain, the blood, the unpredictability.

  I tried to call Charlotte a million times, but couldn’t do it. I was a fucking coward. Telling her the truth had seemed so easy last night on the roof with her in that red dress.

  So easy.

  In the jagged light of a new day, everything seemed heavier and more complicated.

  It was good to hear her voice and hear that she still wanted to talk. Still wanted to see me.

  Sweet Charlotte.

  I didn’t deserve to be around her. I shouldn’t pull her into this shithole that was my life. My secret had dragged me down. I didn’t want it to drag her down too.

  I searched my book of Rumi, desperately looking for something that would give me some wisdom. Tell me what to do. He may have been dead for hundreds of years, but he knew a hell of a lot about love.

  Gone was the red dress when I went to meet her. She had on comfy skinny jeans and a bulky maroon sweater and a long white scarf. It wasn’t the red dress, but she still looked damn good. Except for the dark circles under her eyes that showed that she had also had a long night.

  “Your Pop Tart and tea, my lady.” I had two cups of tea and the Pop Tarts in a paper bag, as if they were from a bakery and my banjo slung across my back. I’d gotten several odd looks from passersby.

  “Thanks.” She took the offered cup and the bag. “Truck’s out in the student lot.” Humming softly to herself, she sipped her tea.

  “This is it,” she said, pointing to a forest green machine that had more than a few rust spots that had been patched and painted over.

  She had to hop to get up in the driver’s seat, and once she was in it, she had to move the seat as far forward as it would go.

  “Do you need blocks on the pedals?”

  “Shut up,” she said, but she was smiling. She switched to a cheesy announcer voice. “Being short comes in handy. I’m travel-sized for your convenience. I also fit in tight spaces, would make an excellent cat burglar and I am probably the only person you know who can wear the same dress I wore when I was twelve. I can be yours for only four easy payments of fourteen dollars and ninety-nine cents. Call right now and we’ll throw in a vegetable chopper absolutely free.” She leaned toward me.

  I leaned too. “What a bargain. You and a vegetable chopper?”

  “If you call in the next forty-five seconds, we’ll knock one whole payment off.” Our faces were only inches away.

  “If I kiss you, can you knock another payment off?”

  “I don’t know about that. We’ll have to see…”

  I kissed her and her lips tasted of honey from the tea, mint from her toothpaste and her normal Charlotte taste. The last was my favorite flavor.

  The kiss was brief because she pulled away.

  “I think we can knock off a payment. Would you like to try and knock it down another payment?” she said.

  “Absolutely.”

  I kissed her again, and this time I didn’t hold back. I sucked her bottom lip between my teeth and nibbled on it and traced her teeth with my tongue and made her moan in the back of her throat. We had to break the kiss so both of us could breathe.

  She’d made me forget how.

  “Free. You can have me for free. You just have to pay the shipping and handling for the chopper,” she said a little breathlessly.

  “I don’t mind,” I said, diving toward her mouth again.

  I pushed harder, and she responded, fisting her hands in my hair and pulling me closer.

  This was not what I had in mind for today.

  “Mmm,” she said, licking my bottom lip. “We should stop. Not that I want to, but I need to know where we’re going.”

  “You’re going to turn right out of campus and head to I-75 South.”

  “Okie dokie,” she said, giving me one last peck before putting on her seatbelt.

  “My Pop Tart, sir.” I handed her one and took one for myself. She got the car started with some effort. The thing was so loud, I was worried we were going to get pulled over for excessive noise violation.

  She turned on the radio, changing from the classic rock station I assumed Will had it set on.

  “This doesn’t feel like an Eagles and Def Leppard kind of day. Not that I wouldn’t rock out to that. I do. Frequently.”

  “Listen to whatever you want.”

  “Hmm,” she said, flipping through the stations. “Oh, I wish there were some way I could listen to some really sweet banjo tunes. Alas, I can’t find a banjo-playing station. Whatever shall I do?” she said in a fake-Southern accent.

  “Look at that,” I said, playing along. “I have found a banjo.” I held it up and she cheered.

  “You must play it.”

  “Your wish is my command, pretty girl.”

  I picked out a few tunes and she sang along, making up her own words while she finished her Pop Tart. I’d brought a few extras, just in case she wanted more.

  We had a long drive on the highway, and at every exit sign, she asked me if she was supposed to turn.

  “Not yet,” I’d say and she would glare at me.

  I started trying to play other tunes, some with success, some without.

  “I like that one, what is it?” she said.

  “Woody Guthrie.”

  “Does it have words?”

  “Yes, but I can’t sing, so it would probably make him turn over in his grave.”

  “I find that hard to believe. Give it a shot.”

  For her, I would.

  I started ‘So Long, It’s Been Good to Know You’ and struggled a bit with playing and singing at the same time. It was a simple song, but as I told her, I wasn’t much of a singer.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Alexander? You’ve got an amazing voice. It reminds me of Bob Dylan, and a lot of people said he couldn’t sing either.”

  “Thanks for the compliment.”

  “It’s a sad song, even though it sounds like it should be happy.”

  “It’s about the dust bowl. A lot of his songs are.”

  We passed another sign marking an upcoming exit.

  “Should I turn here?”

  “Not yet.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Lottie

  We drove and drove, and I got more and more impatient. Also, I had to pee.

  Finally, when I asked if we should turn, he said yes.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Right off the exit there was a fast food place, so I used the
bathroom and ordered a couple of egg and cheese sandwiches and more tea.

  “I thought you got lost,” Zan said when I handed him the cups and the bag as I climbed back into the truck.

  “No, just had to get some sustenance. A girl can’t live on kissing and Pop Tarts alone.”

  “Definitely not.”

  He handed me my sandwich and I pulled out.

  “Turn left,” he said.

  So I did.

  ***

  We drove and drove, getting further and further away from the highway, and closer to the lakes region. I had tried to come up with every possibility, and nothing jumped out at me.

  “You’re not taking me to your fortress of solitude, are you?”

  “I’m not a superhero. Although, there are times when I wished I had a fortress of solitude. Or a way to turn back time.”

  “You’re not the only one.” We’d both go back and change the same thing. I decided to change the subject.

  “I’m sorry our night got ruined. It took forever to get that makeup off.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “It’s not yours, either,” I said. He stared down at the banjo. “I’m not the only one who blames themselves for things.”

  “Charlotte –” he started to say.

  “No, let me get this out. You wouldn’t have been driving if Zack hadn’t forced you take the keys. You did it to try and protect Lexie and Zack. I know that, because I know you.”

  Two years. Two effing years.

  “I’m so sorry.” My voice broke and I knew I was going to cry. “I’m so sorry for being such a bitch to you.”

  “You had every right to be, Charlotte.”

  I shook my head and wiped at my eyes. The road blurred in front of me, and I pulled into a random driveway.

  “Look at me,” he said, putting his hand under my chin. “You have every right to want me to burn in hell. God knows I wish I could.”

  “Don’t say that,” I said, turning in my seat. He wiped a tear away with his thumb. “I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

  His dark eyes were fierce, but there was a ripple of sadness there.

  “I wish I could believe that,” he whispered.