The Rarity of Falling

by Leeann M. Shane

  I wasn’t sure how to describe what just happened. All I knew was the last time it happened, it had gone on and on and nothing stopped it until I turned the shower on and got in fully clothed, the ice-cold water dousing my panic.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered.

  He sighed against me.

  We sat like that, unmoving, his breathing warm and even, mine quick and fast.

  From downstairs, I heard the doorbell ring. “Pizza’s here!” Mom called.

  “Bishop.” I hugged him tighter, not caring when he heaved under the pressure.

  He tried to free me, but eventually gave up. He wrapped his arms around me as tightly as I’d wrapped mine around him. The complete encapsulation was what broke me down.

  “Say something.”

  I shook my head.

  “You always have something to say. Now you don’t?”

  I shook my head.

  “Ava, come on. Talk to me.”

  My mouth wouldn’t work. My brain was still in panic mode and all I wanted to do was disappear in the white noise.

  “Tell me about your trip over the weekend. Was it…” he tapered off, verbally brainstorming, “cold?”

  I nodded.

  “Was it fun?”

  I almost shook my head yes, but I was in a state where I was being perfectly honest with myself, so I was honest with him, too. “No.”

  “No? Why not?”

  “Because you weren’t there.”

  I heard his throat gulp. “I thought you’d have fun because I wasn’t there.”

  It was that ridiculous remark that finally warranted a response. “Don’t be dumb.”

  He exhaled roughly. “I never know what you’re thinking.”

  “I never know what you’re thinking,” I threw back. “So, then why don’t we just ask instead of making up explanations in our heads? Because I can never tell if I’m wrong or right, and that sucks.”

  His hands traced my back slowly. He dipped low, near my waist, and then started again, bringing them up near my shoulders. The heat of his palms seeped under my shirt and into my bones.

  “What if I don’t like your answer?”

  “What if you do?”

  “Why do you always smell like peaches?” He made a low, yet deep, sound in the back of his throat, almost like I do when my mom used to make chocolate chip cookies for no reason and surprise me, and then he shoved his nose against my neck and drug it along the curve to my hair, inhaling me into the back of his throat.

  Heat settled where we touched. I blushed so hot I wasn’t sure we should be touching this close anymore in case I broke out in flames. I was highly aware, suddenly, that I was wrapped around a boy in my bedroom, and not just any boy, but Bishop, who was the only boy I cared about. My panic from earlier turned into something else. Something warm and uniquely reserved for him. I also made a mental note to stockpile my brown sugar and peach shampoo and to wear nothing else, but the matching perfume Henny had gotten me last year for my birthday. It had been a gift she brought back from her trip to Atlanta. Shampoo, perfume, and lotion; I silently thanked her.

  He let out a shaky breath right in my ear and I felt something smooth and soft—his lips?—drag across my earlobe as he buried his nose in my hair.

  “Do you like it?” The fingertips on my left hand inched up, toying his hair. Since he was sniffing mine, I thought it was only fair that I sniffed his, entirely unprepared for the punch of cinnamon, soap, and him I was about to inhale in high quantities. My brain fogged over, and I drug my nose over him, and he drug his over mine.

  That’s how my mother found us.

  On the floor, wrapped around the other, inhaling each other’s scents like bloodhounds.

  “Ava Marie Mackson, what in the hell are you doing?”

  Bishop and I flew apart from each other like we’d been physically pulled apart by Thor. We were up on our feet and ten steps away in seconds. But our eyes were locked the entire time. They never strayed, even when my mother shouted.

  “Nothing,” I assured her, but my voice broke even though technically it was true. We hadn’t done anything. He’d been comforting me. Really, really well.

  “Oh, right. What I just saw looked a lot like nothing. Ava! Look at me right now or you’re grounded!”

  But even I heard the weakness of her threat.

  “Bishop, it’s been fun,” she lied, “but I think you should go home now.”

  He tore eye contact and blinked, swallowing hard and rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, okay.” He headed for the door.

  Taking my serenity with him. I watched him go with a pit in my stomach. I sliced my eyes to my mother. “Thanks.”

  She slammed my bedroom door. “Thanks? Are you out of your mind, young lady? Making out with a boy in your room like some kind of wild animal!”

  “We weren’t making out.”

  She laughed without humor. “Oh, okay, forgive me for jumping to conclusions. I stopped you before you could.”

  My body was aflame. I just wanted to be alone to mortify myself in peace. “Can you get out?”

  Downstairs, I heard the front door close. I went over to my window to watch him get into his car, stuffing his backpack in first. I wanted to go with him. I didn’t even get to say goodbye; this of all things broke my walls, and I swallowed the impulse to cry down.

  “How dare you talk to me like that? Not only are you grounded, but you’re not to see that boy again, do you hear me?”

  That time, when my breathing sped up and I spiraled into the overwhelming pressure of feeling like the ground beneath me was never going to be stable again, to the tornado of no control in my heart, Bishop wasn’t there to help me. Mom tried. She tried to touch me, but I fought her off. She tried to wrap her arms around me, but I didn’t want her hold. She tried to stop my tears but only more came.

  She called my father as she stared at me helplessly, tears falling down her face.

  My panic got worse. My eyes saw through a tunnel. Black eroded the clarity of my present. I couldn’t breathe and was fairly positive I’d never do so again.

  I collapsed onto my hands and knees.

  I didn’t pass out until my dad came home, busting into my room and running over to me.

  He shook me, trying to pull my attention back to the present.

  But when I looked at him, all I saw was a stranger.

  Like the imposter he’d become.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Bishop

  Ava wasn’t at school.

  Or, she was late. Which didn’t seem like her. I waited in the parking lot at school, facing the entrance, until the campus was quiet and long after the late bell had rung. I risked the tardy strike and waited some more before I accepted that she wasn’t coming.

  My first class was with one of her friends. Henny, I was sure her name was. I went to the office, got my tardy slip, and hustled across campus. Class was in mid-swing when I came in. The teacher gave me a look of surprise. I was rarely late. I didn’t take chances on it getting back to Coach. Now that college scouts were involved, now was really the wrong time to take a chance on changing Coach’s mind.

  I took my cell out when the teacher wasn’t looking—nothing from Ava—and then I texted her friend. You hear from Ava? She didn’t move for a full minute. I assumed she had her phone on silent, or off, like we were advised, but just when I thought I’d pull my hair out, she pulled it from the front pocket of her hoodie.

  She glanced over her shoulder at me and shook her head, eyes curious. She nodded toward the teacher and I assumed that was her way of saying play it cool.

  A second later, my phone hummed.

  Ava’s friend: No, why?

  Me: She’s not at school.

  Ava’s friend: Did something happen between you two?

  I wasn’t sure exactly what she meant. I didn’t want to say that something had because she’d undoubtedly take it the wrong way and any time spent not getting down to the reason that I was
texting her—Ava’s disappearance—was time being spent I couldn’t afford. But I couldn’t sit there and pretend that not giving in a little to her curiosity wouldn’t make this easier.

  Me: Her mom kind of caught us HUGGING in her room last night and freaked. Now she’s not at school.

  Truthfully, I had this tense feeling that her not being at school had more to do with her panic attack than her mother or me.

  Ava’s friend: WHAT?!?! Hugging? Hmm? Is that what they r calling it these days? Did u call her?

  I rolled my eyes and texted back. We were hugging. And yes. Her phone is off. Or her battery drained.

  Ava’s friend: Well maybe that’s y her 10 thousand alarms didn’t wake her and she’s just late. Want me 2 text Laurie and see if she hrd anything?

  Me: Why does she need so many alarms?

  Ava’s friend: I don’t know. She’s weird. Like the kind of weird that’s still attractive. Not the kind of weird like you. :P

  Me: Thanks for clearing that up. Did Laurie respond yet?

  Ava’s friend: I must say that ur text speak sounds as uptight as you do in real life. Use an abbreviation, would u?

  Me: HENNY

  Ava’s friend: Fine. Fine. No need to yell at me with capital letters. No. Laurie said she hasn’t talked to her since yesterday. Same 4 me.

  “Shit,” I growled, realizing too late that I was in class.

  Everyone turned around to look at me. Henny frowned, finally starting to catch on that something wasn’t right. The teacher gaped at me, hand still raised to the board.

  “Did I say that out loud?”

  “You sure did,” the teacher grumbled. “Do it again and you’re out of here.”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, hiding my cell on my lap.

  It hummed.

  Ava’s friend: Why are u so worried? Wuts going on? And don’t tell me nothing. I know there’s something going on.

  Me: I’ll tell you at lunch?

  Ava’s friend: You’d better

  I couldn’t concentrate all day. My mind kept going back to Ava’s bedroom. Replaying the bad parts, like her panic attack, and the good parts, like her body pressed tightly to mine. I’d lived my entire life without knowing what desire felt like. Not just for girls, but for anything. Hockey was the only aspect of my life where I wanted anything. The goal, the win, the ice. But Ava was the first girl I’d ever felt that intense bombardment of want, confusion, breathlessness, fire, and hunger for.

  One second, I was trying to calm her down, the next second, she’d unleashed something in me I hadn’t known I was capable of feeling.

  And I couldn’t forget it.

  Parts of me felt shifted. Still there but in different places.

  I was still trying to understand the difference and also why she wasn’t at school. At lunch, I did something I’d never done before. I skipped the lunch line and went straight for the area I saw Ava and her friends eat at every day. Or, at least the days I’d looked over. Which was all the time now.

  They were both already there. But Ava wasn’t. My stomach dropped but I went over to them.

  “Sit,” her friend Laurie instructed, pointing to the space across from them. They were sitting side by side.

  I brought my leg over and crammed my body in the small table, stretching my legs out on either side of theirs. I never sat in the small round tables and always opted for the long bench styled ones in the middle of the cafeteria, so I didn’t have to sit like a giant at a tea party. All bent and smooshed.

  “What’s going on?” she demanded.

  My hackles rose at the demand, but I reminded myself that these were Ava’s friends and she wasn’t there for a reason. I told them the bits I could without entirely incriminating her. “Her parents are having a rough time and Ava’s not their main focus right now. I think she’s having a hard time with it.” That was the watered-down version. Truth was, her parents had created a stable world for her and now they were taking it away, and Ava was falling apart.

  Henny’s brows drew down and she shook her head. “Wait, you mean to tell us you know more about our friend than we do? How is that fair? And how could she keep something from us like that without us knowing? We see her every day? We’re her best friends.” She glared at me.

  Like it was my fault. “Are you?”

  Laurie spoke before Henny could pounce. “It makes sense.”

  “How?” Henny removed her glare from me and put it onto her friend, the two of them speaking like I wasn’t there.

  “I made a joke the other day and Ava totally overreacted. Now I think I know why. And she’s been distant. Maybe she feels like she can’t talk to us about it.”

  “Why? We tell her everything. What makes her think she can’t do the same?”

  “We always tease her for being perfect. Like when we were little, her dad was that dad. Always there, funny, and protective. Her mom was always super involved, like obsessively. If all that changed then so would Ava.” Her face fell and if I weren’t mistaken, true tears glimmered in her eyes. “Poor Ava.”

  Henny looked down and then up at me. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re worried. What happened?”

  I knew better than to tell them everything, even if it appeared that they did in fact care. “She was upset about her parents before I left. Which was why we were hugging when her mom came in. I think something happened after I left.”

  “Hugging?” Laurie asked.

  Henny filled her in.

  Unfortunately.

  Laurie’s smile turned soft. “I believe him,” she said. “I think he might actually have a heart.”

  I scowled, in no mood to play with those two. “Focus. Where’s Ava?”

  “Maybe we should all stop by her place after school? I’ll let my mom know not to pick me up. You do the same, Henny, and we can catch a ride with Bishop. Cool?”

  Henny nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

  I was against that idea. For one, I didn’t want to spend any longer with them than need be, and two, I wasn’t sure Ava would want a huge fuss. But I didn’t see a way around it, and I was worried. There. I said it. I was too worried to do it without them. “Fine,” I grumbled.

  They both batted their lashes at me.

  “Now I know what Ava sees in him. He’s so grumpy it’s almost cute,” Laurie said.

  Henny grinned. “Almost.”

  They both laughed.

  I left, hopping into the lunch line. I ate by myself, trying Ava’s number a few more times before the sound of her voicemail was dripped into my brain.

  “Hi, this is Ava. Sorry I missed you. Leave a message and I’ll give you a call back.”

  Her bubbly voice was sweet and the sound of it made my chest throb. I tried to focus after lunch, but home ec was even harder without her, even though we were done with our project I’d gotten used to her presence beside me, even on the days we weren’t speaking all that much. I regretted that now. I regretted it so much I wanted to ask about her day and listen to her answer until she was blue in the face.

  The possibility of her doing so, her cheeks puffed out blue, eyes bright as she kept talking, and talking, and talking, made me laugh to myself.

  The girls at the table next to mine stared at me like I’d grown two heads.

  I scowled.

  They relaxed.

  All was right with the world.

  Until school was over and I regretted not having practice as an excuse. Whatever happened, I needed to get my head straight before the game tomorrow night. Every game counted and if I screwed up one, I may as well screw them all up. I shouldered my bag on my way out to my car, which was overrun with teenage girls.

  Henny was sitting on the back and Laurie was doing high kicks, her long legs catapulting in the air before she landed with a triumphant grin. She didn’t immediately make me think of a cheerleader. If anything, Ava looked like one and Laurie looked like she’d be the drama student. Their personalities were completely different. Laurie was in you
r face and cheered for the competitiveness—the grin on her face said as much; I’d seen the same one on many opponents. Ava was nice because that’s what she was.

  I cleared my throat, approaching them.

  Henny giggled at me. “You could at least pretend you’re excited to be around us, Bishop.”

  I forced a smile.

  Hers fell. “On second thought, go back to scowling. It’s less…”

  “Terrifying,” Laurie supplied. “Can I drive? I have my license, but my parents won’t buy me a car until I’m eighteen and by then, I’ll have almost graduated.”

  “Can I?” Henny chimed in. “I don’t have my license, but I drive better than she does.”

  “Do not.”

  “Do too. You drive too slow.”

  “You drive too fast.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Girls.”

  They ignored me, picking at each other with smiles on their faces. I saw no point in sticking around and got in my car, turning it on and revving the engine. They both yelped and the passenger door opened, and a new fight began. Who got to ride in the front? I let my forehead hit the steering wheel as they played a grueling three-part game of rock, paper, scissors, until Henny screamed in victory and slid into the passenger seat and Laurie got in behind her. By that time, half the parking lot was empty.

  “Can we listen to music?” Henny started pressing the buttons on my radio until it came on and was rewarded with a song she not only liked, but apparently knew every single word to.

  Unfortunately, so did Laurie.

  I pulled up to Ava’s house with them singing their hearts out, while I was positive, I was in the middle of a nightmare. I turned the radio off and parked across the street. Ava’s car was where she parked it last night and there was another in the driveway and one where I parked in front of the house.

  “Her parents are home,” Henny said.