After We Fell

by Anna Todd

  “Are you?” I reply, taking notice of her long skirt.

  She smiles at me and walks closer. She must be lacking brain cells to be out here in the middle of nowhere asking a complete stranger that looks like me if he’s lost.

  “No. I’m escaping,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear.

  “You’re running away? At, like, age twenty?” She better keep her ass moving down this street, then. The last thing I need is some angry father looking for his overdressed teenage daughter.

  “No.” She laughs. “I’m home from college visiting my parents, and they were boring me to death.”

  “Oh, good for you. I hope your freedom trail finds you at Shangri-la,” I reply and begin to walk away from her.

  “You’re going the wrong way,” she calls out.

  “Don’t care,” I say.

  And then I groan when I hear her footsteps crunching against the gravel behind me.

  chapter twenty-eight

  TESSA

  I’m so exhausted, just plain tired of dealing with fight after fight with Hardin. I’m not sure what to do now, where to go from here. I’ve been following him down the path we’ve been on for months now, and I’m not sure we’re actually going anywhere. We’re both just as lost as we were at the start.

  “Tessa?” Landon’s voice carries through the room and out to the balcony.

  “Out here,” I reply, thankful that I put on a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt. Hardin always teases me when I do that, but it’s comfortable at times like this, not too hot but not too cold.

  “Hey,” he says, coming out and sitting in the chair next to mine.

  “Hey.” I glance over at him before staring back at the water.

  “Are you okay?”

  I take a moment to think over his question: Am I okay? No. Will I be? Yes.

  “Yeah, this time I think I am.” I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No. I don’t want to ruin the trip with all my drama. I’m fine, really.”

  “Okay, just know if you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

  “I know.” I look over at him, and he gives me a reassuring smile. I don’t know what I’m going to do without him.

  His eyes go wide, and he points over at something. “Are those . . . ?”

  I look over to where he’s staring.

  “Oh God!” I jump from my seat and grab the red panties that are floating in the hot tub and shove them into the front pocket of my sweatshirt.

  Landon bites down on his bottom lip to stifle his laugh, but I can’t keep mine in. We both burst into laughter—his genuine, mine out of humiliation. But I’ll take this laughter with Landon over my usual postfight crying with Hardin any day.

  chapter twenty-nine

  HARDIN

  I’m growing more and more sick of seeing nothing but gravel and trees while roaming around this small town. The strange girl is still following behind me, and my fight with Tess is still weighing down on me.

  “Are you going to follow me around this entire town?” I ask the pestering girl.

  “No, I’m going back to my parents’ cabin.”

  “Well, go to their cabin alone.”

  “You aren’t very polite,” she hums.

  “Really?” I roll my eyes even though she can’t see my face. “I’ve been told civility is one of my strongest attributes.”

  “Someone lied to you,” she says and giggles behind me.

  I kick at a rock, for once glad for Tessa’s cleanliness, since if she hadn’t made me take my shoes off at the door of the cabin, I’d be stuck wearing Landon’s sneakers. Not a good look. Plus, I’m almost certain his feet are much smaller than mine.

  “So where are you from?” she asks.

  I ignore her and continue on my trek. I think I’m supposed to turn left at the next stop sign. I sure as hell hope so.

  “England?”

  “Yup,” I say. Then figure I might as well ask. “Which way?”

  I turn and see her point to the right. Of course, I was wrong.

  Her eyes are an icy blue, and her skirt drags across the gravel below her feet. She reminds me of Tessa . . . well, the Tessa I was first introduced to. My Tessa no longer wears hideous things like that. She has also learned a new vocabulary; all credit for that goes to me for making her cuss my ass out on a wide range of occasions.

  “Are you here with your parents, too?” Her voice is low, sweet even.

  “No . . . Well, sort of.”

  “They are sort of your parents?” She smiles; her use of “they are” instead of the contraction “they’re” reminds me of Tess, too.

  I look over to the girl again to make sure she’s actually there and this isn’t some freaky Christmas Carol–type shit where she’s an apparition that has come to teach me some sort of lesson.

  “They’re my family, and my girlfriend. I have a girlfriend, by the way,” I warn her. I don’t see this girl being interested in someone like me, but then again I once thought the same about Tessa.

  “Okay . . .” she says,

  “Okay.” I pick up my pace, wanting to create some space between us. I turn right, and she does, too. Both of us move onto the grass as a truck passes us by, and she catches up again.

  “Where is she, then? Your girlfriend?” she asks.

  “Sleeping.” It makes sense to use the same lie I told my father and Karen.

  “Hmm . . .”

  “Hmm, what?” I look at her.

  “Nothing.” She stares forward.

  “You’ve already followed me halfway back. If you have something to say, then say it,” I say irritably.

  She twists something in her hands, looking down. “I was just thinking that you seem like you’re trying to escape from something or hide . . . I don’t know, never mind.”

  “I’m not hiding; she told me to get the fuck out, so I did.” What the hell does this wannabe Tessa know anyway?

  She looks up at me. “Why did she kick you out?”

  “Are you always this nosy?”

  She smiles. “Yeah, I am,” she says with a nod.

  “I hate nosy people.”

  Except Tessa, of course. No matter how much I love her, sometimes I want to tape her mouth shut following one of her interrogations. She’s literally the most intrusive human being I’ve ever met.

  I’m lying, really. I love her pestering behavior; I used to hate it, but I get it now. I want to know all about her, too . . . what she’s thinking, what she’s doing, what she wants. I realize, to my fucking horror, that I ask more questions now than she does.

  “So, are you going to tell me?” the girl presses.

  “What’s your name?” I ask her, avoiding her question.

  “Lillian,” she says and drops whatever was in her hand.

  “I’m Hardin.”

  She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Tell me about your girlfriend.”

  “Why?”

  “It seems like you’re upset, and who better to talk to than a stranger?”

  I don’t want to talk to her; she’s eerily similar to Tessa, and it’s making me uneasy. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  The sun has disappeared early here, and the sky is nearly black.

  “And keeping it in is?” she asks sensibly. Too sensibly.

  “Look, you seem . . . nice and all, but I don’t know you and you don’t know me, so this conversation isn’t going to happen.”

  She frowns. Then sighs. “Fine.”

  Finally, I can see the familiar sloped roof of my father’s cabin in the distance. “Well, this is me,” I say by way of dismissing myself.

  “Really? Wait . . . your dad is Ken, isn’t he?” She slaps her small hand against her forehead.

  “Yeah?” I say, surprised.

  We both stop walking at the end of the driveway. “I’m an idiot, of course! With the accents, how did I not think of it earlier.” She laughs.
>
  “I don’t get it.” I look down at her.

  “Your dad and my dad are friends, they went to college together or something. I just spent the last hour listening to them tell stories of their glory days.”

  “Oh, that’s ironic.” I half smile. I don’t feel as uncomfortable around the girl as I did a few minutes ago.

  She smiles brightly. “So really we aren’t strangers after all.”

  chapter thirty

  TESSA

  Cookies,” Landon and I answer in unison.

  “Cookies it is, then.” Karen smiles and opens the cabinet.

  Karen never stops, she’s always baking, roasting, toasting. Not that I’m complaining; her cooking is incredible.

  “It’s dark out now. I hope he doesn’t get lost out there,” Ken says. Landon just shrugs like That’s Hardin.

  Hardin has been gone for nearly three hours, and I’m trying my best not to panic. I know he’s okay; if something were to ever happen to him, I would know. I don’t know how to explain it, but I know deep down that I would just know.

  So something harming him is not what I’m worried about. I’m worried that his frustration will just become an excuse to find some local bar. As much as I wanted him to get away from me, it would kill me to see him stumble through the door and smell liquor on his breath. I just needed my space, time to think and cool down. I haven’t gotten around to the thinking part; I’ve been avoiding it at all costs.

  “I was thinking we could all get in the Jacuzzi tonight or maybe in the morning?” Karen suggests.

  Landon spits his soda back into his cup, and I look away quickly, biting the inside of my cheek. The memory of Landon spotting my floating panties is much too fresh, and I can feel the heat in my cheeks.

  “Karen, honey, I don’t think they want to get in the Jacuzzi with us.” Ken laughs and Karen smiles, realizing that it would be a little awkward maybe.

  “I guess you’re right.” She laughs and starts separating the cookie dough into small balls. She scrunches her nose. “I hate this premade stuff.”

  I’m sure that for Karen, premade cookie dough is awful, but for me, it’s heaven. Especially now, when I feel like I could snap at any moment.

  Landon and I were in the middle of a discussion about Dakota and their soon-to-be apartment when his mother and Ken finally checked in on us. They mentioned that they ran into Hardin as he was leaving. Apparently he told them that I was asleep, so I did my best to go along with his lie, saying that I had only woken up when Landon came in.

  I’ve been wondering where Hardin is and when he will return since the moment he left. Part of me doesn’t want to see him at all, but part of me, a much bigger part, needs to know that he isn’t doing anything that will further jeopardize our already fragile relationship. I’m still extremely angry at his interfering with my move to Seattle, and I have no idea what the hell I’m going to do about it.

  chapter thirty-one

  HARDIN

  You sabotaged her getting an apartment?” Lillian asks, her jaw falling open.

  “I told you it was fucked up,” I remind her.

  Another pair of headlights flashes by us as we walk to her parents’ cabin. I had every intention of going back to my father’s, but Lillian has proven herself to be a decent listener so far. So when she asked me to walk her back to her cabin and finish our discussion, I accepted. My absence will give Tessa some time to cool down and hopefully be ready to talk by the time I return.

  “You didn’t tell me what level of messed up it was. I don’t blame her for being mad at you,” the girl says, of course ready to take Tessa’s side.

  I can’t imagine what she’d think of me if she knew about all the shit I’ve put Tessa through in the past six months.

  “Well, what are you going to do about it?” she asks, opening the front door to her parents’ cabin. She gestures for me to come in, like it was a foregone conclusion that I would.

  Once I step inside, I see it’s very extravagant. Even bigger than my father’s. Fucking rich people.

  “They should be upstairs,” she says as we walk inside.

  “Who should be upstairs?” a woman’s voice questions, and Lillian grimaces before turning around to the woman I assume is her mum. She looks just like her, the only difference between them being age. “Who’s this?” she asks.

  Just then, a middle-aged man wearing a polo shirt and khakis walks into the living room.

  Great; fucking great. I should’ve just stuck to walking Lillian home. I wonder how Tessa would feel if she knew I was here. Would she mind? She’s pretty mad at me anyway, and she has a history of being jealous of Molly. Still, this girl isn’t Molly; she’s nothing like her.

  “Mom, Dad, this is Hardin, Ken’s son.”

  A huge grin appears on the man’s face. “I was wondering if I’d get to meet you!” he exclaims with a posh British accent. Well, that explains how he would know my father from university.

  He walks over and pats my shoulder. I take a step back, causing him to frown slightly, although he also kind of seems to have expected this reaction from me. My father must have warned him about me. I almost laugh at the thought.

  “Honey,” he says, turning to his wife. “This is Trish’s son.”

  “You know my mum?” I ask him before also turning to his wife.

  “Yeah, I knew your mom back before she was your mom,” the woman says with a smile. “We were all friends, the five of us,” she adds.

  “Five?” I ask.

  Lillian’s dad looks at her. “Now, honey.”

  “Anyway, you look just like her! Only you have your father’s eyes. I haven’t seen her since I moved back to America. How is she?” she asks.

  “She’s good, she’s getting married soon.”

  “Really?” she squeals. “Tell her congratulations from me, that is just so great to hear.”

  “Okay,” I respond. These people smile too damn much. It’s like being in a room with three Karens, only much more annoying and much less charming. “Well, I’m going to get going,” I tell Lillian, figuring this has been awkward enough.

  “No, no. You don’t have to go—we’ll go upstairs,” Lillian’s father says, then wraps his arm around his wife’s waist and leads her away.

  Lillian watches them go, then looks up at me. “Sorry, they are . . .”

  “Fake?” I answer for her. I can sense the bullshit behind the man’s bleached white smile.

  “Yes, very.” She laughs and goes over and sits on the couch.

  I stand awkwardly by the door.

  “Will your girlfriend mind if you’re here?” she asks me.

  “I don’t know, probably.” I groan, running exasperated fingers through my hair.

  “Would you want her to do the same thing? How would you feel if she was hanging out with a guy, one she just met?” As soon as the words leave her lips, anger swells in my chest.

  “I’d be seeing red,” I growl.

  “Thought so.” She smirks and pats the couch next to her.

  I take a deep breath and stride over to sit on the opposite side of the couch from her. I’m not sure how to read her; she’s rude as hell and a little annoying.

  “You’re the jealous type, then?” she asks, eyes wide.

  “I guess so.” I shrug.

  “I bet your girlfriend wouldn’t like it much if you kissed me.” She moves closer, and I jump up from the couch. I’m halfway to the door before she begins to laugh.

  “What the hell?” I try to keep my voice down.

  “I was just messing with you. I’m not interested, trust me.” She smiles. “And it’s a relief to know that you aren’t either. Now sit.”

  She may have a lot of the same traits as Tessa but she isn’t as sweet . . . nor as innocent. I sit down on the chair across from the couch. I don’t know this chick enough to trust her. I’m only here because I don’t want to face what’s back at my dad’s cabin. And Lillian, despite being a stranger, is a neutral third p
arty, unlike Landon, who happens to be Tessa’s best friend. It’s sort of nice to have someone to talk to who doesn’t have a reason to judge me. And hell, she’s a little nutty, so she’s more likely to get where I’m coming from.

  “Now tell me what is in Seattle that you aren’t willing to face for her?”

  “It’s not anything specific. I do have some bad history there, but it’s more than that. It’s the fact that she’ll be thriving,” I respond, knowing how fucking insane I sound. But I don’t give a fuck; this girl stalked me for an hour, so if anyone is insane, it’s her.

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “No. I want her to thrive, of course. I just want to be a part of it.” I sigh, missing Tessa desperately even though it’s only been a few hours. The fact that she’s so angry with me makes me miss her even more.

  “So you refuse to go to Seattle with her because you want to be involved in her life? It doesn’t make sense,” she says, stating the obvious.

  “I know you don’t get it, she doesn’t either, but she’s the only thing I have. Literally, she’s the only thing in my life that I give a shit about, and I can’t lose her. I’d have nothing without her.”

  Why am I telling her this shit?

  “I know I sound fucking pathetic.”

  “No, you don’t.” She gives me a sympathetic smile, and I look away. The last thing I want is sympathy.

  The light on the staircase shuts off, and I look back at Lillian. “Should I go?” I ask.

  “No, I’m sure my father is ecstatic that I brought you home,” she says, no sarcasm in her voice.

  “Why is that?”

  “Well, ever since I introduced them to Riley, he’s been hoping we would break up.”

  “He doesn’t like him or some shit?”

  “Her.”

  “What?”

  “He doesn’t like her,” she says, and I almost smile at her.

  I feel bad for her father not accepting her relationship, but I have to admit I’m extremely relieved.