The Rarity of Falling

by Leeann M. Shane

  I shook my head and stepped away and out of his hold, leaving his beautiful icy, dark blue eyes shimmering and glaring. “I’ll show you after your game. If you win, that is. Otherwise, you’ll just have to wonder.”

  His jaw went slack. Irritation sizzled in his irises. “Ava,” he warned.

  I turned my back on him, feeling powerful, and didn’t let my obnoxious giggle out until the girls and I were around the corner. We jumped up and down and squealed, and I laughed so hard I forgot I was upset.

  “I can’t believe I liked that,” Laurie giggled. “You should have seen his face. Wait! When did that happen?”

  “What?” I wondered, finally calmed down enough to talk.

  She pointed threateningly at me. “When did you catch the love bug?”

  My excitement momentarily faltered. “I don’t love him yet. Well, I do love him, like a friend. No, not like a friend, but I don’t love love him yet. We’re… just…”

  Both of them stood there, arms crossed, not even planning on helping me out.

  “Well?”

  “Yeah, well?”

  “Look, I care about him and he cares about me. We’re taking our time.”

  Henny sighed. “Okay, I get that, I guess. Even if that’s disappointing.” She grumbled under her breath.

  Laurie bumped her with her hip. “It’s smart. You can’t fall in love overnight. Real love is rare, and it takes time to build up.”

  Henny gave her a look. “And you know this how?”

  She flipped her auburn hair. “I just do. Now tell us everything.” She linked her arm through mine and Henny went on the other side.

  “There’s nothing to tell really. Most of it isn’t fun.” I told them about how my parents had come out while we were both in his car.

  “Where did you go before that?” Henny asked.

  I hesitated too long, and Laurie pulled us to a stop. “Ava, you gotta give us some details. You’ve kept us in the dark and obviously that doesn’t work. Now tell us.”

  “We parked near the lake and he kind of sort of asked me to be his girlfriend.”

  Their eyes bugged out of their heads.

  “Really?” Henny looked confused.

  “Yeah, really?” Laurie did, too, and also a little impressed. “Hmm. Doesn’t seem like a Bishop thing to do. Growl and stew, sure. But not be sweet.”

  “He didn’t declare his undying love for you or anything?” Henny questioned hopefully.

  “No,” I laughed. “He asked, I said yes, and I guess we’ll see where it goes.”

  “Did you at least kiss him?”

  “Sorry, Hen.” Her face fell. “But,” I added for her benefit and lowered my voice. “He did give me a hickey.”

  My ears were still ringing from her scream by the time I made it to class. I was amazed by how far behind I was. Missing the day before and not being really present for the past few days had created a backlog of work. At least it kept my mind busy. Which was difficult considering it wanted to go in a million different directions. Some good, some awful, some scary; I wondered about bringing my anxiety pills with me from now on.

  My brain hurt by the time lunch rolled around. I wasn’t surprised to find Bishop already there, tray full. What did surprise me was his companions. Henny and Laurie were sitting across from him, and though he was scowling, he didn’t entirely look unhappy. I stopped where I was, hidden by the kids coming in and out of the lunch line, to study him.

  I saw what everyone saw. The handsome, broody face. The imposing height and yet his desire to remain unseen. But I also saw other things now, too. Like his broodiness was really just him. It wasn’t how he felt. He could laugh when something was funny, he could smile when something was worth it, and he wanted to be seen, just by the right people.

  After getting my lunch, I slid in beside him. He blew out a relieved sigh.

  “Good, you’re here.” He leaned close immediately, hesitated, gave my friends a look—who were both grinning like boobs—and then shrugged, pressing a warm, two Mississippi second long kiss to my cheek. “Hi,” he murmured, close to my ear.

  I wished we were alone. If for anything so I could be myself. But everyone was watching. Some of them even had the audacity to look shocked. But if I’d learned anything these past weeks, there were friends and then there were acquaintances. I only really cared about what the people at my table thought. Not the people watching, wondering and whispering. “Hi,” I murmured back.

  Before my friends could start, I pulled out the tickets Bishop had given me the night before. They took the bait, and poor Bishop got the hook.

  “Do you wear a cup and jockstrap?” Henny asked.

  “No.”

  Her excitement collapsed.

  “Do you have all your teeth?” Laurie asked.

  He snarled. “Answer your question?”

  She leaned away from him, the look on her face saying she was proud she didn’t like boys.

  “Do you all shower naked together after the game?” Henny asked next.

  Bishop covered his face in his hands. “Ava,” he whined.

  Henny whined, too. “Ava, your boyfriend is no fun.”

  Laurie sighed dramatically. “Agreed. Let’s go. Meet you after school?”

  I nodded.

  They both left, tossing disgruntled looks over their shoulders. The moment they were gone, Bishop relaxed. He was mine again.

  I peeked at him.

  He peered at me. “How are you?” he asked, digging deep into my emotions with his icy, dark blue eyes.

  He pulled the truth from me. “I don’t know,” I admitted, screwing my eyes together in an attempt to solidify the image before me with the instability wreaking havoc on my mind. “I’m excited about your game.”

  The corners of his lips twitched up into a shy smile. “I’ve never had anyone there before.”

  His admittance warmed my chest and also chilled it. Bishop didn’t deserve to be forgotten. He deserved to be seen. “Well, now you have me.” I put my arm around his shoulder, resting my head against it. “Everyone is staring at us,” I mumbled, as the eyes of our peers burned me from the outside in.

  “That’s because girls like you don’t even talk to guys like me. Let alone date them.” He stabbed at his empty tray, smearing the ketchup from his burger around like blood.

  I sat up straight. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing,” he mumbled sullenly.

  I felt his unhappiness stab me right in the heart. I looked around at all the eyes on us and wondered if that was the reason that he seemed so unhappy, or was it because of me? I shook my head, trying to clear it. “No, Bishop. Tell me what you meant.”

  The bell overhead rang, and he jumped to his feet with his tray. “Nothing, Ava. I’ll see you later, okay?”

  I didn’t answer him. As the hustle and bustle of the cafeteria sounded off around me, I thought he’d already left.

  “Okay?” he repeated, still behind me.

  One of the things I’d really disliked about dating Josh was the fact that he constantly had to check in on me. I’d felt smothered and pressured. Was that how Bishop was feeling? Horror and shame crashed into me. I hadn’t exactly given him an option here. Was I smothering him? I rubbed my stomach, staving off the churning rumble of mortification gearing up inside. My lungs found it hard to breathe.

  No, I begged. Not here. I was at school. Panic attacks shouldn’t be allowed at school!

  I needed to get out of there and away from the eyes. “Okay,” I mumbled, taking off.

  I bypassed the bathroom by the cafeteria and kept walking all the way to the one by the office that no one ever used. I enclosed myself in a stall and rested my head against the door. Bishop had mentioned focusing on other things. Like smells—since we were in the bathroom, I didn’t try that one—but I did focus on myself. On the emptiness in my lungs and how badly I needed to fill them. My hands shook against the door. I fought my tears as hard as I could, tooth and
nail. I’d never cried at school, at least not since I was in kindergarten and my parents left me there all alone and I’d thought I’d never survive. All the kids had laughed at me and I’d sworn to never cry at school again. Even if no one could see me, I could see me, and I wouldn’t give in.

  I couldn’t keep giving in to the panic.

  I had to learn how to be enough to calm myself down regardless of who was around.

  Relying on other people to make me feel better wasn’t working out so well. Even Bishop…

  My heart felt too heavy to go there.

  Once my panic had ebbed, I came out and washed my face with some cold water. But the idea of leaving the safety of the bathroom, made it hard to breathe again. And then I thought I should go home, but the idea of going home made it even worse. I ran back to the stall and let the panic wreak havoc on me. Maybe if I gave in it would go away.

  But it didn’t.

  It got worse.

  I sat down on the toilet and put my head between my knees.

  I had nowhere safe to go. Nowhere stable. That, of all things, hurt the most.

  Everyone needed a safe place.

  Somewhere to feel stable, someplace to feel okay not being okay.

  Class was over by the time I could function again. I rewashed my face and avoided my reflection in the mirror. One second outside in the hallway, with a million different eyes either not seeing me or seeing me for the wrong reasons, had me over the entire day.

  I walked determinedly out of campus, snuck past the parking monitor who was too busy watching the cheerleaders practicing on the soccer field, and got in my car and left.

  I didn’t feel better.

  I felt more alone than ever.

  What if I was wrong about Bishop and he was just being nice?

  What if my parents were just getting started when it came to taking a hammer to the footing beneath me?

  What if my panic never went away and I was attacked forever?

  I couldn’t live my life hiding out in the bathroom.

  Cutting class and doubting myself.

  Feeling miserable, I parked on the edge of the lake where Bishop and I had parked the night before. It felt like a million years had passed since his hands had been on me and my lips had been on him. I missed him. I missed my mom and my dad, too. But the person I missed the most was me.

  My cell rang an hour later, around the time for home economics class. We were supposed to turn in our final project today. I silenced Bishop’s call and then my phone. I couldn’t run to him every time I felt awful. And we’d already finished the project.

  Marriage in high school was still a bad idea.

  Plus, he had his own things to deal with.

  Feeling selfish, I hung my head, bringing my knees to my chest and hiding my head between them.

  I tore my ring off my finger and tucked it in my pocket.

  When I finally got home that evening, it was a little before five. Bishop’s game started at seven. Which gave my parents loosely two hours to dismantle what little security I still had left. But my worry was unnecessary. There weren’t cars in the driveway other than mine. No one was home.

  The moment I walked into the front door, something felt different. The sound of the door closing was too loud, a hollow bang in an otherwise filled home.

  I dropped my bag on the floor.

  I held my breath.

  The living room was ransacked. The couch and TV were gone, but the pictures on the wall still remained. My hands trembled as I reached over and flicked on the light. My dad’s golf clubs were gone. They’d remained by the fireplace for years, growing dust because he hardly ever had time to golf. But he had time today to take them. My footsteps sounded on the floor as I went into the kitchen. It still looked the same; dad never cooked, so the kitchen wasn’t his. The kitchen was Mom’s. His office, however, was his, and nothing remained but the custom mini fridge Mom and I had gotten him two years ago for Christmas.

  My legs gave out.

  I loved my dad. He used to be so funny and there.

  The sight of his things gone stabbed me in the chest so hard I slid to the ground in his empty office and picked up a lone, dusty paperclip that had been forgotten in the mayhem.

  I missed my dad. I missed him so much my sadness immediately turned into hatred.

  I cut my panic attack off in the middle and I forced myself to stand on my own two feet. If I was no longer his worry, he wouldn’t be a worry of mine. I slammed his office door shut and I went into the kitchen to make myself something to eat. I tore into my dad’s favorite espresso pods—the ones I couldn’t have, ever—and made myself a double espresso even though it tasted like burnt water. I ate my sandwich, and then I made another one, filling a canvas tote with apples, chips, and soda. There wasn’t much food left in the house. I should probably save some, but I wasn’t in the mood to save.

  I was in the mood to escape.

  I ran upstairs and changed my boots for white sneakers and exchanged my hoodie for a nicer one, a peach-colored chunky sweater. I did my face lightly with some makeup and gathered my blonde locks in a messy bun I totally wanted to admire but didn’t have time. I found my Harry Potter themed knapsack and stuffed it with clothes, my toothbrush, soaps, makeup, wallet, and laptop, and I grabbed my pillow and blanket off my bed. I stuffed my car with my items and then I grabbed a few more sweaters, just in case. Winter hadn’t even really gotten started in Minnesota.

  I made sure to lock up the house after grabbing my backpack and then I unsilenced my phone, ignoring the missed calls and texts from Bishop to call Laurie.

  It didn’t even ring once before she was screeching. “Where are you! We waited at school for an hour for you. I had to call my mom to come and get us. She’s pissed!”

  I cringed. “I’m sorry. My life was falling apart. But I’m better now. Do you still want to come to the game?”

  She exhaled heavily. “What happened?”

  I didn’t even know where to start. “I can come and pick you up?”

  “I can’t. I’m in trouble for pulling my mom out of her yoga class. Henny, too, so don’t bother calling her next. Thanks for ruining my weekend!”

  Guilt made it hard to think. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I have to miss tomorrow’s practice, which means I won’t lead in the cheer for the football game. Like wtf, Ava!”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Save it. I can’t talk right now. Maybe later.”

  I swallowed hard. “Oka—” I started but stopped when I realized she’d already hung up.

  Everyone I loved was crumbling before me. Every relationship I thought was solid was so easily dismantled. How was that possible? I’d been foolish, too busy smiling and being clueless, to see it.

  Or too naïve to know it.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Bishop

  The roar of the crowd rang in my ears.

  I was good at pushing everything aside but the game. The only time I could perfectly concentrate was game day.

  But that was before Ava brought me those freaking granola bars and then ditched out today, doing God knows what on her own, while my calls steadily went unanswered. I growled in frustration, the sound magnified in my helmet. I took my mouthpiece out and grabbed for my water bottle. I wouldn’t get to drink until the first intermission. Coach was giving his pre-game speech on the edge of the ice and everyone but me was completely captivated by his energy.

  My mind wasn’t with the team.

  It was on Ava.

  My girlfriend.

  Who looked like I’d done something horrifically wrong today at lunch when I took off. I didn’t have the courage to tell her what had really upset me. That the judgmental eyes weren’t judging her, they were proving my fears right. She was too good for me, and every single person at school knew it, too, but her. What if she realized it? What if that was the reason she was avoiding me?

  My frustrations boiled inside me. I didn’t know what to
do, how to do it, only that I absolutely needed to do it. I could never get it right with her. And I wanted to get it right. So badly, I hadn’t known how much I wanted to do the right thing by her until I did the wrong thing.

  There were too many people there tonight to feel her. The first home game always got a lot of attention. Coach made no hint that there was a coach here from the university, but I didn’t think he would either. He wanted me to play my heart out every single game.

  Typically, that wouldn’t make me nervous. It shouldn’t. But I could feel the pressure on me. The screaming of a heart long since bruised with longing for the opportunity to play for Minnesota University.

  I took a deep, pained breath and admitted some things to myself.

  I wanted that scholarship.

  But I needed Ava.

  I could feel it. The overwhelming compulsion to breathe in the scent of peaches just so I could breathe at all.

  “Manfield!” Coach shouted.

  I was thankful for my facemask. It shielded most of the spit flying from his mouth. I turned to him, meeting his intense eyes.

  “Are you even listening to me? Where’s your head at? If it’s anywhere other than on the ice, it’s in the wrong place. Do you hear me?” he asked, his tone ice.

  He was pissed at me. Pissed that I’d even think of not giving my all. I had to push everything else aside and play like everything depended on it. Because it did. Every time. “Yeah. Sorry, Coach.”

  He must’ve seen the change in my eyes because he nodded and slapped a heavy hand on my shoulder, guiding me to the huddle that was already waiting for me. Ryles shot me a heavy scowl. “On three,” Coach shouted, counting down.

  I put my gloved hand in the tangled mess and screamed “Loons!” along with everyone else. As much as I was tempted, I didn’t look for Ava during the game. I kept every single ounce of focus on the game. So much so, that when the final buzzer rang out and we’d won by two, and I came back from reality when Coach grabbed me by the jersey and lifted me into a crazy awkward hug and the rest of my team was dogpiling me on the ice, that I wondered how I ever lived my life without her in it.