The Rarity of Falling

by Leeann M. Shane

  It was unsettling how grossly affected by that question I was. It felt like there was a hockey match in my stomach. Butterflies playing a scrimmage before the big match. I’d put my emotions in someone else’s hands, and she could either laugh in my face or give me hers.

  In response, Ava did the most unexpected thing.

  Or maybe it was the most Ava thing she could do.

  She pulled her hand free of mine and pumped her arm back. “Yes!” she screamed. “Yes, yes, yes, yes! I can’t believe you actually asked me. You’re so cute. Yes! Is this really happening?”

  I watched her, not sure I should talk.

  She grinned, huge and bright. “Heck yes I’ll be your girlfriend.”

  I laughed at her huge grin. But mostly I laughed for the excuse to smile as big as her.

  That’s what Ava made me want to do. Be more like her.

  Unafraid to smile even after being hurt.

  Unafraid to hope even after being letdown.

  She made me want to be better.

  She undid her seatbelt. “Hug me?”

  I undid mine, too.

  She hugged me over the center console, but it was too awkward, and it wasn’t as close as I wanted. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her down on my lap. She gasped quietly in surprise but settled against me just as quick. Her legs slipped on either side of my thighs, straddling me. I wrapped my arms around her and pressed her as tightly to my chest as I could.

  Her arms went around my neck, and even though I could barely breathe, and she could barely breathe, we tightened our grips even harder. She smelled like me. Like my sweatshirt was siphoning off the scent of peaches from her skin the longer she wore it. I didn’t want to give up that but smelling like me was a close second. It meant she was close enough to me.

  Unable to help myself, I pressed my face in the crook of her shoulder and neck, skimming my nose along her smooth, soft skin. She hummed in response, playing with the hair at the base of my neck. I kissed her there. Where her pulse hammered in the hollow of her throat.

  Beneath my lips, her pulse picked up speed.

  She wiggled on my lap.

  My eyes flashed open. “No wiggling.”

  She giggled. “Sorry.”

  I closed my eyes and kissed her there again, focusing on every single reaction. I hadn’t avoided sex because I was saving myself. I’d avoided it because I’d never wanted someone bad enough to throw it away. But that was before Ava. That was before just her hands in my hair was enough for me to regret giving her my sweater and adding another layer of clothing to strip the contact away.

  Way to go.

  I sucked gently on her skin, tasting her hesitantly. And then her lips did the same. Angled perfectly, she pressed them to my neck. There was no way I was kissing her for the first time after the day she had. I didn’t want to take advantage of her desire to escape. But I couldn’t get my lips to say stop as she kissed and nipped at my skin and I did the same to hers. I kissed her neck the way I wanted to kiss her.

  A soft mewl hummed in her throat. Our breathing was heavy, and the windows were already fogged. Everywhere we touched was inordinately warm.

  “Bishop,” she whispered, voice heavy with expectation.

  My lips traveled north, toward her ear. “Yes?” I kissed her earlobe, gently biting down on the ultra-soft piece of her flesh. I’d never felt anything so soft. I reached up and stroked it.

  “This is awesome,” she moaned, leaning to the side so I could reach her better.

  I chuckled breathlessly against her. “Thank you?”

  She giggled. “You’re welcome.” She leaned back and shoved at my shoulders, eyes so low-lidded they looked like they’d start dripping honey all over me. “Your turn.”

  She shoved me back and burrowed her face against my neck, kissing me there the way, I hoped, she wanted to kiss me.

  My hands settled on her waist. My eyes closed tight. She wiggled, too many times to count. I pressed down on her waist, stilling her as she dragged her tongue along my jaw and sucked on my pulse.

  She’s right.

  This was awesome.

  So awesome that I was afraid of what would happen if I didn’t stop her. Ava had a way of getting me to do what she wanted. And if she wanted me, then… crap… I’d have to give it—no! I urged her away, bending to catch her low-lidded eyes.

  “We should stop.”

  She pouted, hands still around my neck. “Why?” Before I could answer, she did. “I know why. Don’t answer that. It’s too embarrassing.” She pressed a kiss to my cheek instead. Too close to my mouth. “You have stubble,” she noted.

  “Puberty,” I explained.

  Her snicker sounded off my cheek. “It gives you hair in the worst places, but also boobs, so it’s okay, I guess.”

  My brow quirked as she dragged her lips over the small patch of stubble along my jaw. “Boobs are great.”

  “What about the hair?”

  I smiled lazily, my hands dipping below mine and her sweater to grip her waist without so many barriers. “Did you say boobs?”

  She laughed, falling against me. I hugged her, loving the sound of her laugh more than I did her moans. Her laugh was real. Bright. It took my inability to laugh and made it seem possible.

  Made me want to laugh, too.

  “Okay,” she finally said, sitting all the way back on my lap, her back resting against the steering wheel. “I probably have a hickey and I know you’re going to.” But she smiled, proud of herself.

  I rolled my eyes. “Get in your seat, would you?”

  She climbed—indelicately, might I add—over me and the center console, only kneeing me in the balls twice. “Oops, sorry. Pardon me. Oops!”

  I shifted in my seat, trying to bring my mind down from the clouds. The reality of the night resettled between us. She’d had a hard night and day, had snuck out, and was probably giving her parents every reason in the world to keep her away from me. I cleared my throat. “What do you want to do?”

  She bit her lip, looking into the night with a faraway expression on her face now that she was faced with her reality again. A minute ago, we’d both been lost in each other. Now we had the threat of being torn apart all over again.

  “Run away.”

  I didn’t react. She was scared and upset. She had every right to say dumb things. “Ava.”

  She sighed, moving her eyes to her lap. She played with the sleeve of my sweater. “I don’t want to go home, Bishop.”

  The way she said it was final. It left it up to me. Which wasn’t a good thing for her considering I had no other options. “Listen. I know home isn’t where you want to be right now but avoiding it will only make things worse. Let me take you home.”

  I waited a long time.

  Until finally, she nodded.

  It was quiet on the drive back. I tried not to stare at her, but I wanted to know how she was feeling, every second as we got close to her home. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d never had a home to call mine and I was about to lose one altogether. She did, but the idea of returning to her home had her hands wringing together and her bottom lip between her teeth. I guessed what we really wanted had nothing to do with a house. Four walls wouldn’t give us what we wanted. It was the first moment where I wondered if she and I had more in common than I knew. We were both missing something.

  But we didn’t miss it when we were together.

  I regretted bringing her home now.

  I parked across the street, turning the heater on and not pushing her. It was almost one in the morning. I was exhausted and I had a game tomorrow. “We’re playing at home tomorrow.”

  She turned to me, lips turning up in the corners, happy to talk about anything but the fact that she hadn’t made a move to go inside. “When you play away, how do you get there?”

  “The team has a bus. We usually raise money during the season for transportation and uniforms. Car washes, scavenger hunts, stuff like that. In fact, the team�
��s bidding on a fundraiser for next weekend, but I won’t be there since I’ll be working the youth hockey center.”

  “Who are you playing against?”

  “The Cambridge Carvers.”

  “Are they any good?”

  I wasn’t overly confident on the ice. I wanted to win as badly as the other team did, but one thing that separated us was that was all I thought about on the ice during a game. Winning, scoring—the goal was to goal. “I’m not worried.”

  A cheeky smile painted her lips. “Bishop, are you being cocky?”

  “What? Me?” I shook my head. “Never.”

  She giggled. “I can’t wait to watch you play. I’ll probably watch it like this.” She put her hand up to block her eyes, peeking through a window she created. “But I’ll be there.”

  I equated the flutter of nerves in my body to the fact that she’d be watching me as opposed to the game itself. I reached behind my seat for my backpack, pulling out the envelope Coach had given to all of us. Typically, I tossed my free tickets in the trash. No one came to my games. But this time, I’d have someone there. “Here. Take the girls.”

  She opened the envelope, peered inside, and then grinned at me, the moon shining off her face. It lit up the honey in her eyes and radiated off her pretty white teeth. Her beauty punched me in the chest.

  I’d never found it so hard to breathe.

  I looked away, glaring at my reflection in the window. Get it together, loser.

  “This is so cool. I feel like a celebrity.”

  I watched my reflection roll his eyes as his lips quirked. Turning back to her, I smirked. “Relax. It’s high school hockey. Not the NHL.”

  She looked contemplative for a moment, tracing the stadium name on top of the ticket. “Now. But one day, you could be playing for the big leagues. On TV. Travelling all over the world. You’ll be able to buy whatever food you want.”

  The way she said it, not so much like that could happen, but that that would happen, made my blood pump faster. The only other person in my life who minutely believed in me was Coach. Before him, it was just me. Hockey was something I had to struggle to make happen. I worked every single chance I could in the summer to afford it when the season started. It was never anyone’s priority, but maybe that’s why it was always mine. “You mean name brand cereal?”

  “The best of the best.”

  “I can see it now. Row after row of cereal boxes.” I waved my hand majestically in front of me.

  Her soft laugh pinged off my ears in the best way. “I mean it, Bishop. I watched you play, I could feel it. It makes me think I’ve been going the wrong way.”

  “What do you mean?” How could a girl like Ava be wrong? That was my job. A job I was good at unfortunately.

  “I used to love acting, that’s why I took drama. But…” Her eyes flashed to mine. “Ever since last summer, it felt different. Real life was too real to stand on a stage and recite fake lines. I don’t think I want to act anymore. I want to be myself. Whoever she is,” she mumbled under her breath.

  Before I could say anything, there was a loud bang against my window. Ava yelped, her hand going to her throat. I whirled around. A face appeared in my window, furious eyes immediately latching on mine.

  “Dad?” Ava gasped.

  Through the glass, his muffled demand was clear. “Get in the house right now!”

  She slid lower in her seat. “Oh crap.”

  “Now, Ava!” he roared.

  I glanced behind him to see her mother in the open doorway. She had her arm wrapped around herself and could barely look our way.

  “I guess I’ll see you at school?”

  Her hand lingered on the door handle.

  I leaned close to her. “Wait for me in the parking lot?”

  She leaned close, too. “Okay.”

  Her dad pounded on the glass.

  But I couldn’t stop myself from closing the gap and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

  “Oh, here.” She started taking my sweater off.

  The gentlemanly thing would be for her to keep it. But I only had one sweater and I knew without a doubt that it would smell like her for days. “Thanks.”

  She took a deep breath in preparation, got out, and walked across the street. Not stopping to look at her father or mother once. The front door slammed and a few minutes later, her bedroom light turned on.

  I waited for her to look out.

  Her face was stricken, and I could only imagine the things her parents had said.

  She put her hand to the glass window pane.

  A determined glint in her eyes.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Ava

  There was a thing called Capgras Syndrome.

  It was a condition in which the person who had it came down with the belief that someone in their life was suddenly replaced with an imposter. We’d learned about it briefly in biology class and I hadn’t thought much about it until right now.

  Only, everyone else was fine.

  I was the imposter.

  I’d snuck out of the house that morning after a night full of screaming and wailing from my parents and, okay, myself. But they were insanely unbending about Bishop. All they cared about was that he was a boy. It was almost like if they concentrated on me, then their mistakes would somehow go unnoticed. They hadn’t wanted me to go to school today, but I couldn’t stay home another second with them.

  I’d showered and dressed as quietly as possible, leaving my face clean of makeup and my hair down. I was wearing an oversized hoodie and jeans, paired with black boots. I felt empty inside. Depressed, maybe.

  Which was odd, because I had a lot of things that kept bringing a smile to my face. I wasn’t sure how I could feel nothing and too much at the same time. Memories of being on Bishop’s lap the night before were at the forefront, even though they shouldn’t have paled in comparison to him asking me to be his girlfriend. I’d kissed other boys, but it had never felt like it did with him, and we hadn’t even technically kissed. Just touching him in new ways had been enough.

  I tried to hide my smile, but it had a mind of its own. It wanted to be on my face.

  When I got to school, I was early. I parked near the entrance and waited, chewing on my fingernails and trying to scavenge some semblance of control. But I wondered if I ever had any. If control had been just one more form of acting.

  When Bishop pulled in, I knew before I even saw him. I felt him. Like two pieces floating untethered through space, we gravitated toward each other. It had never felt this way before. Friends, dating, strangers—I’d feel him no matter what. From the moment we sat down in home economics, there was something there… begging to be set free.

  The truth, maybe.

  Around Bishop, it was the only time I didn’t have to fake it. I smiled because around him, it was hard not to. Everything I felt, wanted, and sought was real.

  That was hard not to get attached to.

  Realness.

  It was rare.

  I draped my backpack over my shoulder and got out, plunging my hands in the front pockets of my hoodie. As we walked toward each other, he frowned, only I didn’t know at what.

  “Do I have a booger in my nose?” I teased, feeling self-conscious.

  His frown deepened. He looked exhausted. His eyes were puffy, and he looked too tired to bother explaining himself. I felt bad for keeping him up late. Anxiety shot through me. He had a game. An important game. He couldn’t afford to be tired.

  “No,” was all he said, heading in the direction of the school.

  Note to self: Tired Bishop was a grumpy Bishop. “Want to go run and get some coffee?”

  He hesitated only a minute. “We’ll be late. I can’t afford to be late.” He hesitated a moment more before holding his hand out to me.

  I slapped mine in it, probably too hard, but I didn’t want his hesitation to amount to inaction. I curled my fingers between his, loving the feeling of his hand swallowing mine. It felt safe, someho
w, being cocooned by him.

  He stared at our hands for a flash before looking away. But his fingers tightened around mine, which I loosely interpreted as him liking it as much as I did.

  “How was it when you got in?” he asked, his voice deep and raw from being tired.

  I kind of liked it even more. “Terrible. Loud. Angry. You’re the enemy to them and I can’t understand how when their transgressions are actually real.”

  “You’re their daughter. I’m a horny teenage boy come to steal your innocence.” He hit me with a teasing grin.

  His smiles were rare, like confetti falling from the sky; I wanted to grab handfuls of them and hold onto them forever. “Yeah right.” I snorted. Bishop wasn’t like that.

  He dropped the grin, proving me right as we made our way to my first class. “I don’t know how parents work. I never had any.” He said it like that would help me.

  But it only made me sad. Just then, Henny and Laurie came bounding up behind us. They were all grins.

  “What’s this?” Laurie pointed at our conjoined hands.

  In fact, now that I looked, a lot of people were doing the same.

  Henny’s face was nothing but a huge, face-splitting grin. “Can I be your flower girl?”

  Bishop tried to pull away, taking me with him. He guided me a few feet away and leaned close. “I gotta go. I’ll see you at lunch?”

  I gave him my eyes.

  He glared. “Ava.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I didn’t get a chance to do my homework last night. I wanted to pound it out before class. We’re still fifteen minutes early.”

  Guilt crashed into me. I’d commandeered his attention last night. Speaking of which… “Where is it?” I pulled on his collar.

  “Where is what?”

  “Your hickey?”

  He half snorted and half laughed. He pulled his collar down a few inches and shot me an impatient stare. “Proud?”

  The sight of his hickey did things to me. Tingly special things. I reached up on my tiptoes, glad he was somewhat leaning down, and kissed right over it.

  His hands moved to settle on my waist and a quiet, low growl rumbled from his chest. “Where’s yours?” he asked, like a put-out boy who shouldn’t want to see it, but still did.