The Rarity of Falling

by Leeann M. Shane

  He gave me his hand and when I put mine in his, he pulled me to my feet and settled both hands on my waist, face serious. “You’re not ridiculous. You’re protective. I get jealous, too. Doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with you. I think it just means that maybe this thing between us is real and scary and important. Being jealous is wanting to protect it.” A divot appeared between his brows. “But, if it makes you happy, I’ll try really hard to tone down my alarming sex appeal.”

  I giggled, shoving away from his chest. “You’re a dork. Let’s go teach me how to skate.”

  “You know I’d never do anything to you like that, right?” he said, as we were walking side-by-side out the entrance.

  “Like what?” His voice was too tender, and I felt his statement in my heart. I couldn’t look at him.

  “I’d never talk to another girl the way I talk to you. I’ll never touch another girl the way I touch you. And I can say with absolute certainty that I’ll never want another girl the way I want you, Ava. You don’t have to doubt yourself. You can trust me.”

  I didn’t truly understand what I was feeling until he said that. The jealousy wasn’t insecurity in its origin, it was fear. Fear that I would fall in love with Bishop Manfield and he’d leave… just like my dad did. I cared about Bishop. A lot. And maybe caring was dealing with being afraid. I swallowed the tears in my throat and nodded. “I know I can.”

  “Good,” he said gruffly, like he really needed me to believe that.

  Which made me feel better, that he believed it himself. I reached out and played with his fingers, holding on to his forefinger and middle finger together instead of his whole hand. If I touched his whole hand, I’d want to touch him, too, and I was pretty sure groping was against the youth center’s rules.

  “What size shoe do you wear?”

  “I don’t need skates. I bought a pair today.”

  He pulled me to a stop in front of the rink doors. Surprise flittered across his face. “You did?”

  “Uh-huh. I was kind of hoping you could teach me more than once.” He continued to stare at me. So, I continued talking. “It’s just, hockey means so much to you and I thought it would be cool to skate with you sometimes?” I bit my lip nervously as he stared into my eyes like I wasn’t making sense. “I used my own money.” I took the fifty out of my pocket and put it back in his. “Technically, my mom bought them, but I think that’s because she’d rather us be uncoordinated on the ice than in a bed.” I laughed nervously. After a few more seconds of him not talking, I waved my hand in front of his face. “Are you even listening to me?”

  He licked his lips and nodded once, his expression wide open as he stared at me. “You’re right. Hockey means a lot to me. And the idea of you learning how to skate so we could do it together…” He cleared his throat. “Means a lot to me, too.” Tenderness coated his eyes as he reached out to touch my face. His thumb, cold from the ice all day, stroked over my cheek. His fingers trailed down, until they wrapped around my neck, and then he pulled me against his chest, wrapping his free hand around me in a hug that said I’d done the absolute perfect thing.

  I closed my eyes in relief against him. Tender Bishop was a brand-new side of him that I decided right then and there to do my best to bring out in him.

  He stilled, pressing his nose in my hair. “What is that smell?” He breathed me in long and deep, and then he groaned, the rumbling sound carrying over my entire body. “You. Smell. So. Good.”

  “Peach Sorbet perfume,” I offered. “Do you like it?”

  “You buy that and wear it for me?”

  I pressed my lips to his chest. “Yes.”

  He instantly stepped away from me and ran a hand through his hair. “Let’s go.”

  I sighed, chasing after him, my bag slapping on my hip. “What’d I do?”

  “Nothing,” he muttered. “Nothing, Ava. That’s the problem.”

  This rink wasn’t even a quarter as packed as the other. It looked newer and shinier. I followed him all the way to the end where there wasn’t anyone else on the ice. We both sat down, and he pulled his skates out and put them back on over his white socks. His skates were black and worn, fitting him like they were made for him.

  I pulled mine out of my bag, just as nervous now as I was when I bought them. They were white with yellow laces and super pretty but also really scary. The sharp metal blade made me gulp.

  Bishop laughed and got down on his knees in front of me. “Give them to me.”

  I handed them off, watching as he took the laces out and redid them in a different way.

  He set them aside and reached for my right foot, putting it on his thigh so he could untie my shoe and pull it off. He frowned at my white ankle socks. “These are cute and all, but they’re not going to protect you against chafing. Don’t be afraid, but your feet are going to hurt until we break these in. Thick cotton socks next time, all right?” I nodded timidly. He reached over into his bag and pulled out a fresh pair of his socks. He took my other shoe off and replaced both my socks with his. And then he set to putting my skates on.

  I watched him in a trance. He touched me everywhere. Well, everywhere from the knee down. His large grasp gripped my calf as he wrangled the skate on. He tied my skates and then with a proud smile, he rose to his own feet, while I sat there trying to breathe.

  He extended both of his hands to me. “You look so damn cute right now,” he chuckled. “Stop freaking out and give me your hands.”

  I hesitated for only a second before he grabbed them and yanked me unsteadily to my feet. I wobbled dangerously and fell against him. I already hated skating. But I really liked him.

  He bent down as I gripped his shirt to take the rubber covers off mine and then his, tossing them within reach.

  “Do you trust me?” he asked.

  I took a deep breath, watching it cloud out in front of me. “Yes.”

  And then Bishop led me out onto the ice.

  Trusting someone had never felt so good.

  Or terrifying.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Bishop

  How did a person know when they were in love?

  What feeling cemented the emotion?

  Or did it not take one feeling but a lot of feelings?

  Like a recipe with the perfect ingredients.

  But then that would mean love was like a potion, and one wrong ingredient would ruin the entire spell.

  And I’d turn back into the frog and Ava would always be the princess.

  I watched her from the corner of my eye in home ec on Monday. I’d had to work again on Sunday and her mom had made it impossible for me to sleep over, so I’d gone two nights sleeping on my own in a twin bed I hated and a house that hated me. But at least I’d gotten to see Zara. I’d taken her to breakfast this morning and dropped her off at school.

  She’d said I looked different over pancakes, her dark soulful eyes trying to reach into my soul and figure it out.

  “Different how?” I’d asked.

  She jabbed her fork at me. “I don’t know, but you look less sad. Are you in love?”

  I choked on my pancake, coughing it down and grabbing for my orange juice. “What? Why would you ask me that? How do you even look in love? Do I have heart eyes or something?”

  “Why would you have heart eyes if you weren’t in love?”

  I glared at her. “Stop comparing my face to an emoji I’ve never even used. My face isn’t different. Yours is.” I crossed my arms over my chest as if I’d won.

  She rolled her eyes and smiled softly. “Whatever, Bishop.”

  Before she got out of the car when I dropped her off at school, she sighed sadly.

  So sadly, that I’d felt it. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m going to miss you when you turn eighteen. The rents already found your replacement. Another boy.” A shudder raced down her spine.

  And all I wanted to do suddenly was take her with me. I felt that stupid pain in my chest and figured it meant t
hat I would miss her, too, but mostly I’d worry about her. About her safety, her hunger, and every single man who ever came into her orbit.

  “When is he moving in?” At least I’d know when I had to be out.

  She wiped at her cheek, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was crying. But girls like Zara and boys like me didn’t cry. We couldn’t afford to.

  “Next week,” she mumbled, and then got out of the car and went to school.

  I thought it would hurt more than it did. But I’d been prepared for that moment for a long time. The moment of having absolutely nowhere to live. Maybe if Ava’s mom hadn’t picked this exact moment to come back to life, I’d have somewhere to sleep. But she had and I was homeless. As it was, I couldn’t tell Ava.

  She’d get all… Ava on me.

  But I kind of wanted to tell her because she’d care.

  I sighed, tracing the A+ on our paper from the newlywed budget assignment. Ava had her head bent as she worked on outlining our newest assignment. Newlywed budgets and a baby. Felix and Wren were already arguing over baby names.

  “I think I figured it out,” Ava said, sitting up straight and looking at me. “This assignment was created to completely turn us off of marriage, sex, and babies. Let’s be celibate forever and we’ll save ourselves a lot of money.”

  Her serious expression made me laugh. “No,” was all I said.

  Her eyes widened but then she nodded, a sly smile playing on her glossy lips, either too innocent to read where I was going or too shy. “You’re right. We could adopt.” She patted my shoulder. “Good thinking.”

  “No,” I said again, watching her closely.

  She avoided my eyes and bit down on her glossy bottom lip. “Stop looking at me, Bishop.”

  “Why would I do that?” I reached over and brushed the hair that had been on her shoulder aside. “Hmm?”

  I watched her fair lashes flutter and she sat up straighter. “Because it’s the polite thing to do.”

  “But I like looking at you. You’re so beautiful. And adorable. And funny. And there.” Before I knew it, I felt like I was going to explode with how I felt. And also, with how worried I was. Where was I going to sleep?

  Her breathing deepened. “Well, then, fine. But don’t stare too hard.”

  I smirked. “Thank you.”

  Her eyes flitted to mine and then away, her cheeks pink. “For the record, you’re beautiful, too.”

  I reached down and grabbed the edge of her chair and pulled her close to me. She gasped, staring at me like I’d lost my mind. “Kiss me.”

  “We are in class,” she hissed quietly, looking around. Something caught her attention, and I looked over to see Laurie and Henny watching us.

  I ignored them. “One kiss. I missed you yesterday. And last night.” We’d parted ways after skating for two hours and our only form of communication had been texting.

  She turned her face to meet mine and opened her mouth to undoubtedly argue, but I took advantage of her position and gently grasped her chin and pressed my lips to hers. It felt like stepping out onto the ice for the first time in months, escaping. She tasted like the pineapple gummies she’d eaten at lunch. We hadn’t sat with her friends, for some reason, but I wasn’t upset by it. Though I did see her sneaking glances over at them. I shook the thoughts off and pulled back, unhinging my eyes to find hers closed, her lips mine. I pressed one more kiss to her bottom lip and then one to her nose.

  “Did you miss me?” I murmured.

  Her eyes fluttered open, the golden flecks in her irises catching the lights in the classroom, blinding me. “No,” she said.

  Sending my heart crashing. “Oh.”

  A slow grin lit up her face. “I had your pillow.”

  Relief crashed into me. I glared at her. “Don’t do that.”

  She giggled. “Oh, my poor Bishop. You should have seen your face.” She pecked me on the lips, eyes slipping into softness. “Of course, I missed you.”

  It was sad how badly she’d scared me.

  “Bishop and Ava? I wasn’t aware that making out was part of the assignment. Disengage and don’t make me tell you that again,” Miss Barter threatened.

  Ava blushed a dark shade of pink and scooted away. “Yes, Miss Barter.”

  A few chuckles emanated around the room and I could feel the eyes but didn’t want to look at the prying people getting a glimpse into my relationship.

  “Want to hang out after school?” she asked as soon as the bell rang.

  “Can’t. I have practice. I have it every day this week.”

  “After practice?”

  I wanted to say yes. I needed to say yes. But if Ava and I hung out tonight, I wouldn’t be able to go to my foster parent’s place and get my things before they changed the locks. Between now and next week, I had no way of knowing when I’d get the axe. Better to leave on my own. I’d been kicked out of homes before and it was never pretty leaving empty handed or seeing how much they didn’t care about me in their eyes.

  “I have to meet with Coach,” I lied, hating myself for it. But it wasn’t a stretch to make this assumption anymore; Ava cared about me. If she cared, she’d worry, and she had enough to worry about. I grabbed the belt loop on her jeans and pulled her close. “But I’ll call you as soon as I’m done. We’ll talk all night. I love talking to you.”

  I leaned down and pressed my forehead to hers in the hall.

  She smiled softly, genuinely. “Okay. Have a good practice.”

  I kissed her, probably too deep and too long in the hall. When there were a few whistles, I gave every single douchebag a look that had them scurrying away. She looked dazed, so I gave her hip a gentle shove in the direction of her class, already missing her.

  I compartmentalized during practice and used all I had to win a scrimmage. Coach was grinning from ear to ear. I was the first one out of the gym afterward and was able to get into my foster parent’s place and up to my room unnoticed. I didn’t have a lot. Everything I owned fit into my backpack. I’d dumped my books in the backseat of my car to have the room. As I was zipping it up, my roommate came in, saw me, and sighed.

  “Where are you going to go?” he asked, plopping onto his bed.

  “I don’t know,” I answered. “Later.”

  “Later,” he mumbled, even though there wasn’t any for us.

  I went to Zara’s room. She was sitting on her bed with her knees tucked to her chest, broken headphones in her ears and her eyes buried in a book. I waved my hand to get her attention. She took one earpiece out and the moment her eyes met mine, I knew she knew what was up.

  She looked down at her book, her bottom lip trembling. “Don’t say it.”

  “I’m not saying goodbye, Zara, because this isn’t goodbye. I was wondering if you wanted to go get some dinner with me?”

  She scowled at me. “That isn’t fair.”

  “What?”

  “Bribing me with food. You know I can’t say no.”

  I smirked. “You’re smarter than you look. Come on, kid. Don’t make me eat alone.”

  Her lip trembled again. “You’re the only boy who’s ever been nice to me. They’re never nice. Don’t go.”

  I shoved my emotions down. Far. “I have to go, but I’m not bailing on you. Let’s go. I’m in the mood for pizza.”

  She turned her banged up mp3 player off and slid off the bed. “Pizza sounds good.”

  “Grab a coat.”

  She grabbed her jacket and followed me out to my car. “Where’s your girlfriend?” she wondered once we were in the car.

  I worked my jaw. “Why are you so interested in her?”

  “I don’t know. What does she look like?”

  “Like a girl.” I shrugged.

  “Don’t you have a picture in your phone you could show me?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t have pictures of your own girlfriend? What’s wrong with you?”

  She made it sound like a criminal offense. “
Should I?”

  “Yes. Even I know that and I’m only twelve.” She was quiet for a moment. “Is she nice, too?”

  I gritted my teeth against her too crap. “She’s nicer than me. She’s nicer than everyone.”

  “What’s she doing with you then?” She giggled at her own joke.

  “Really funny, kid.” I don’t know, I answered inside.

  I waited until she was full off pizza and soda to hand her gift over. It wasn’t much. Like my own it was the pay-as-you-go kind, but it got the job done.

  She looked at the box, her eyes bugging out of her head. “Is that a smart phone?”

  “It’s not the latest, coolest one, but it’s the same kind I have. I’ll keep it paid, just don’t use up all the data. You can keep it going a long time if you only use Wi-Fi.”

  She gave the box a strange smile. It was small but it was real. Fragile. She took the phone out and held it like a trophy. “Thank you, Bishop.”

  I cleared my throat. “This way we can talk and stay in touch. Just no heart emoji’s, please.”

  “Can I play Angry Birds on this?”

  I refrained from groaning. She was going to use my data up in one day. “Wi-Fi only, kid. Coffee shops, library’s—that sort of thing. Data only when you have to.”

  She nodded, not even hearing me. “Smile.” She pointed her phone at me.

  I stared at her, hard. “Don’t.”

  Her flash went off and she smiled at the picture she’d taken of me in an uncomfortably besotted way.

  “Time to go.”

  She was like Ava. Giggling when nothing was funny.

  I dropped her off and before she got out, she hesitated, looked at me, and then flung herself at me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me, letting go so fast and leaving me staring after her before I could even process what she’d done.

  Part of me was proud. She’d hugged me. A guy. After men had hurt her. But most of me was disgruntled.

  I parked my car by the lake that night and called Ava, talking to her until one in the morning until she passed out, the line still going.

  I stared at the ongoing call screen, wishing from deep inside that I was in her bed with her, inhaling her delicious scent.