“What’s wrong with you?” Henny asked, stealing my fork and stabbing her macaroni and cheese.
I was a bad friend, keeping my life from them, but I had no choice. Every time I thought of telling them the truth, that I didn’t have it together, that I never would again, I couldn’t breathe. I liked them treating me like nothing was wrong. Because then it felt like everything was still the same.
“Nothing. Why do you ask?” I sank down between them both, giving them smiles.
“You haven’t answered a single call or text,” Henny said, not looking at me but still at her food. And then she looked at me. “Is it true?”
I panicked. On the outside, I frowned. “Is what true?”
“Do you have new best friends like Laurie suspects?”
Her heartbroken expression was so unexpected, I laughed, letting out my worry with it. I turned to Laurie. “How’d you find out?”
She hid her smile by biting her lip. “You’ve been distant. What other explanation would there be?”
“I’m a secret agent pretending to be a high school kid to gain covert information?”
Henny shook her head. “What kind of information would you get hanging out with me?”
I patted her back. “The true meaning of patience, my dear. No, seriously, I was in a rush this morning and I left my phone at home. Sorry.”
“You, a rush? Did your ten alarms not wake you up?”
“Err.” For some reason, I didn’t want to tell them about last night. Not just because of my parents, but Bishop felt like an even bigger land mine I didn’t want to traverse across. “Snooze button.” I shrugged.
Laurie rolled her eyes and broke out into a tirade about cheer practice yesterday. I was thankful for the subject change until Henny stopped paying attention and Laurie called her out.
“Are you even listening, or are you too busy staring at a guy who doesn’t know you exist?”
I followed her eyes to the one spot in the cafeteria I’d been avoiding since I sat down. Bishop had his back to us today. He was hunched over, face down—I sensed the storm in him.
Henny sighed. “He knows I exist.”
“Correction,” she replied. “He doesn’t care you exist. You know Lisa?”
“On your team?”
“She has this older brother. Freshman in college. He’s super cute and I was thinking you should ask him out. He went here last year.”
And just like that, Henny was over Bishop. “No way, do you have a picture?” Laurie showed her his Facebook and her eyes lit up with stars.
And mine filled with relief.
I could stare at Bishop in peace.
As if he felt my eyes on him, and not just anyone’s eyes, but mine, his spine stiffened. “You guys mind if I go over and talk to him? I need to ask him something about our project.”
They both mumbled noncommittal answers, too busy planning Henny’s engagement.
“Sure.”
“Whatever.”
“Gee, thanks, I’ll miss you, too,” I grumbled, bringing my tray with me. I walked through the cafeteria, avoiding backpacks on the floor and feet in my way. I made it to his table and dropped my tray down across from him. The moment I did, his eyes cut to me. I got the startling impression that I was the last person he wanted to see.
But that wasn’t fair. Because for me, he was the first person I wanted to see today. I sat down anyway.
His tray was already empty, and he had his notebook open beside it. Squiggles and lines cut across the page. Hockey plays.
I cleared my throat and smiled shyly at him. His face didn’t move. “I got an A on my physics homework.”
He blinked at me. His face looked like a wall and trapped behind it was every emotion he didn’t allow himself to feel.
Finally, he nodded once, before averting his eyes back to his playbook.
Maybe it was my parents, or something else, but his dismissal hurt. I hadn’t done anything for him to not want me around. I’d saved his freaking life! Maybe last night was too much for him. It certainly was a lot for me. But I wasn’t acting like a jerk.
I gave up and grabbed my backpack, leaving my tray there and ducking out of the cafeteria. I hated this feeling. The nasty burn in my chest I wasn’t used to. It was like every step I took was wrong. Every feeling I had was, too. And looking forward only felt like running away.
I walked the halls, ending up in the drama building. It was sectioned off into two classrooms, the stage, and the wardrobe room where we sewed our costumes and changed between sets. I ducked behind the back and went out on the darkened stage, sitting right in the middle.
I hadn’t been chosen for the lead role in Mr. Sherskey’s play. Just as well. It was a story about a girl who was in love with a guy who had no clue. I couldn’t pretend to be someone I’d never been. My acting abilities only went so far. I had gotten the role of her best friend, the girl responsible for setting the lead up in predicaments that would get the guy to notice her. I was the sidekick.
I stared out over the empty seats. In the dark, the theater felt cold and lonely. I could almost hear the whispers of past audiences and plays. The undercurrent of a million different stories breathing life around me, not finished yet.
When it was time for home ec, I wasn’t surprised when Bishop was quieter than usual. After he nodded to my mumbled, “hello,” I didn’t say anything more. I worked by myself, barely able to focus. I could feel him beside me. Moody and mean. I was so relieved when the bell rang, I didn’t even look back at him. I saw Laurie and Henny waiting for me near the door, and as awful as it made me feel, I went out the side door and bypassed them both.
My mother wasn’t home when I got home after school, and my dad’s office was still empty. I hid out in my room, watching horror movies by myself. It wasn’t that I was afraid. It was the emptiness around me. Being scared wasn’t so hard with another person in the room to share your fears.
That’s all I wanted. Someone to understand my fears.
I called Henny but she hated scary movies.
Laurie had curfew.
My finger hovered over the message icon on Bishop’s number. I sighed, tossing my phone away. Bishop didn’t like me. I had to remember that.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bishop
Exhaustion fuzzed out my mind.
I couldn’t focus during practice, which was ironic, since it was the only time I was ever focused. I fudged two plays, sending my frustration level into the clouds. I ground my teeth together and demanded Coach rerun it.
We stared each other down. “Ask your captain,” he said pointedly.
He was still pissed I’d turned the position down. But he didn’t get it. I couldn’t run my own life, let alone an entire team. I just wanted to play. To dig my skates into the ice, to rocket up and down the rink and send the puck soaring, to breathe in the ice and not think about anything else.
I turned to Ryles. He gave me a cocky smirk, his mask lifted so I could see every inch of his power-hungry leer. “Beg me.”
I’d rather choke. I stalked off and took my position for the next play. When practice was over, I waited until everyone was in the locker room and Coach was in his office to slip back out onto the ice. When it was just me, I could breathe. I closed my eyes and visualized the ice full of players on both sides. My skates slid over the surface, my stick leading the way. I ducked out of the way of a defensive player, the roar of the crowd ringing in my ears.
When I slid to a stop and tore off my helmet, clouds of hot air collided with the cold, blurring and tricking my eyes into thinking I wasn’t alone.
But I was alone.
The stadium was completely and utterly empty.
After my shower, I was getting dressed when I saw my fake wedding ring jammed in the corner of my locker. The sight of it made my chest hurt. I never intended to be a dick to her, but how could Ava still want to talk to me? I was doing her a favor. She didn’t have to humor me anymore. She didn’t have to both
er.
I slipped the ring on and ignored the small part of me who felt bad and regretful. Hanging out with her—other than almost choking in front of her—hadn’t been awful. I hadn’t even intended to push her away after I woke up on her couch and left before she did. What made up my mind was the granola bars. Those bars said one thing: she’d figured out I was a starving, lonely loser. I couldn’t look her in the eye anymore. Couldn’t face a girl who’d seen the real me.
Especially because I’d eaten them all after practice last night. I’d saved one for Zara, tossing it to her as she sat huddled in the corner of her bed with her homework spread out on her lap. She’d asked me to wait and pulled out a crushed, greasy glazed doughnut still wrapped in a napkin. I didn’t ask where she got it, I ate it in my own bed in one bite.
I couldn’t sleep. Every time I did, I smelled peaches.
The scent haunted me.
And I didn’t know why.
I suspected I wouldn’t be sleeping tonight either.
I’d avoided the library last night, and I’d kept to myself all day at school. Which wasn’t as hard as it sounded now that Ava had gotten the hint. She’d sat beside me, not looking up, barely blinking. I’d almost lost my resolve the few times I’d peeked at her. She looked like a girl version of me.
Which meant just because she wasn’t talking didn’t mean her brain wasn’t overflowing with thoughts.
But doing homework at home was hard. Spending any more time there than usual didn’t help me. I risked going to the library, finding it empty of familiar faces.
Part of me felt disappointed, but I brushed it aside.
Nothing I was doing lately made any sense.
The next morning, I had to walk to school. I was completely out of gas and the bit of change I managed to scrounge wouldn’t even buy a gallon. I felt this dreaded sense of unease. I knew what had to be done and that was getting a job. I’d need one. There was no skirting around it anymore. If I didn’t get one now, I’d need one in a few months when I turned eighteen and my foster parents gave me the boot. My grades would dip. Hockey would suffer. I was already on Coach’s bad side for denying the captain position.
I had this horrible fear that if hockey didn’t work out, nothing else ever would.
The cold of winter stung the air and chilled my bones. I was hardly maintaining my mood when a car pulled up alongside me.
I glanced over, and then did a double-take when I realized it was Ava. She drove past me slowly, leaving me to walk the five blocks to campus in the cold. Guess that’s what I got for ignoring her.
Still, it left a bitter taste in my mouth.
Before we were assigned to work together, I’d seen her in passing. Weeks could pass between knowing she was even in the same room as me. After being forced to work together, she was everywhere. Hanging out with her friend in front of my first class. She gave me a bored look when I passed her, which made my hackles rise.
I still hadn’t washed the shirt of mine she’d drooled on. I’d bring it for proof that she hadn’t been that bored the other night.
I passed her in the halls. I knew when she was there because my back tingled, and my eyes could pick her out of the others like she had a flashing red light over her head. She’d catch me every time, always the last to look over. And her scent; I smelled her everywhere. By the time home ec came around, I was more irritated than usual.
She was sitting in her seat when I came in. I sat down and held my breath. Not wanting to give in. I focused intently on Miss Barter. She was wearing black tights under her black skirt and her shirt was the color of pea soup. Her bangs brushed low, almost in her eyes, and she wore that same red shade of matte lipstick every single day.
Unable to stand it a moment longer, I let my breath out and inhaled, pulling in a deep lungful of fruit and sugar from the aggravation sitting next to me.
She was wearing skinny jeans, black flats, and a chunky cream sweater. Her blonde hair was down, and her lips were so glossy they looked like pink windows. The classroom was reflected in them.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” she mumbled, shooting me a closed-off look before returning to her work. “You’re staring,” she stated when I couldn’t look away.
I felt nothing for anyone.
The same lack of feelings went both ways. I couldn’t remember if anyone in my entire life had ever cared about me, or me them.
That was the main difference between a girl like Ava and a guy like me. Care. Everyone liked her. Everyone tolerated me. I couldn’t just say these things to her. I couldn’t come out and say I was ashamed, and she was too good for me. She’d never understand, and in her effort to do so, she’d just make the gap between us that much larger. So, I stayed quiet. Because not speaking was easier.
“Ava,” my lips whispered before I could stop them. I froze, whipping my eyes to meet hers.
“What?” She waved her hand in front of my face. “What is it, Bishop?”
I said the first thing my ridiculous brain could think of. “I like your lip gloss.” Mortification slid into me before she could make me feel it. My eyelids fluttered, wanting so badly to close and shut the image of her eyes brightening with humor out forever. “I mean, it’s so shiny.”
Shut up, would you!
She didn’t say anything. She just watched me malfunction with a weird look on her face. It was almost like she was waiting for me to say what I really wanted to say.
“They were good.” I cleared my throat. “The, ah, granola bars. And I appreciated them. Even if I didn’t show it. Same with the sandwiches. And the, you know, saving my life. All right?” I grunted.
She swallowed hard; her throat bobbed. She nodded slowly, digesting my words, and the words I hadn’t said because I didn’t know how to say them. “Did I drool all over you? Is that why you hate me? I’ve been trying to figure out what I did, but I can’t think of anything so horrible that would make you totally despise me. Was it my mom? Did she say anything?”
Guilt wrecked into me. “Ava, come on.”
“What did I do?” she whispered, leaning closer, her eyes shimmering with tears. The clear liquid made them look like two simmering pots of honey. Too sweet for her own good.
I looked around the classroom; everyone was busy and thankfully looking away, even her girlfriends. I stretched close to her, too, putting my mouth near her ear. “I don’t hate you. You didn’t do anything wrong. I promise. It was me, all me, all right? I’m the jerk here. Not you.”
She looked down. The unshed tears in her eyes threatened to drop. If they did, I didn’t know what I’d do. The sight of them were like a punch to the gut. I did that to her. Treated her like crap for no good reason than because my messed-up mind said to. I let my shame dictate my actions.
Her head fell forward to rest on my shoulder. The overwhelming scent of her hair washed over me. It made me feel unstable, even sitting.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, meaning it and really hoping she knew I meant it. My breathing was slightly heavier, the hollow of her throat so close I could kiss it if I wanted to. If. If.
If…
She wanted me to.
Which she didn’t.
I shouldn’t.
I glared at her neck.
“I missed you,” she breathed, the lightness of her statement sounding more like an admission.
The moment she said it, I realized that I had missed her, too. Not that I’d forgotten about her.
“You’re the only friend I can talk to.”
She was making my guilt worse. “That’s kind of pathetic.”
She laughed sadly, pushing at my chest and sending me back. “You’re so bad at this.”
“I know,” I admitted in frustration. “Help me out. What am I supposed to say?”
She gave me a second of her eyes before she took them. “You already said enough.”
No, I hadn’t. She still wouldn’t look at me. Kept her distance. Remained quiet. I had to fix this.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ava
Uh-oh.
Crap.
Oops.
I hadn’t meant to fall all over him. I hadn’t meant to like it. I hadn’t meant to make that horrible leap between despising his silence and distance all week, to exposing emotions I hadn’t known I was even feeling until they bubbled up. I had missed him. And now he knew it.
He stared at me intently, his icy, dark blue eyes trying and failing to handle me. He looked lost. Which made me sad, mostly because I was lost, too.
And frankly, I was still mad at him. Even though mad didn’t even begin to describe how I felt thinking it was me who’d created this distance this past week.
Unable to take his stare a moment longer, I squirmed, casting my eyes onto my notebook. He sighed gruffly and did the same, posture stiff. Man, we were bad at this. Whatever this was. All I knew was that he’d dissed me, and I’d had no idea why.
A minute before the bell rang, he finally spoke again. “Can we work on this tonight?”
It was unsettling how badly I wanted to hang out with him. I couldn’t describe the impulse, but I did know that Bishop didn’t mind that I wasn’t who I pretended to be. He let me be myself. My family was falling apart self. “You want to come over to my place after school?”
“I have practice, but I can meet up after.” And then he seemed to remember something. His entire face fell. “Crap. I forgot I walked to school. I’m going to be late for practice.”
I remembered his hunched over figure walking a few blocks away from school this morning. I wanted to stop and pick him up, especially since I could see his breath blowing, but he’d looked too disgruntled and I hadn’t wanted to be the person he took it out on. “I can drop you off.”
“Really?” he asked, a surprised lift to his brows.
“Yes, really. Meet me at my locker after school. I’ll wait for you.”
The Rarity of Falling Page 5
