Fall

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “What?” She sat up.

  “Run lines with me?”

  “For?”

  “Remember that movie I told you about? The book-to-movie series, the next Twilight, blah, blah.” I waved in the air.

  She clapped her hands and grabbed the stack of paper. “Is this it?”

  “Yeah, I kind of have to audition for it.”

  She dropped the script. “You? They’re making the great Jamie Jaymeson audition?”

  “Right?” I threw both hands into the air and ran them through my hair.

  Smirking, she jumped out of bed. “I was kidding. Humility doesn’t look so bad on you.”

  “Thanks.” I glared.

  “So.” She cleared her throat. “What scene are we doing?”

  Suddenly nervous, I shoved my hands in my pockets. “Um, it’s the first kiss scene.”

  Her cheeks stained red. “Oh.”

  “You’re the one I want to do it with.”

  “Oh,” she repeated, her cheeks getting redder.

  “Please?”

  “Well…” Her hands shook slightly. “Since you said please.”

  Irritated that she was making me feel nervous and it was my job to act, I tried to focus on something other than the fact that doing this scene with her wouldn’t be acting. At least not for me.

  “Just read the lines. I have mine memorized already.” My voice cracked. “Oh, and I have to film it — hold on.” I set up my new iPhone, you know, the one Pris had yet to throw onto the ground, and used the little stand so that it caught our movements in the corner of the room. Luckily, I knew how I was with phones so I always kept an extra.

  “What page?” She cleared her throat.

  “Seven.”

  “I’m Harley?”

  “Yup.”

  “Okay, don’t laugh because I’m pretty sure I’m going to suck really bad.”

  “Impossible,” I muttered under my breath. She was brilliant.

  “Start whenever.”

  I looked at the camera and counted down three, two, one.

  “Zach, you shouldn’t be here. My parents will—”

  “Who cares?” I gripped her wrists. “Let them find me. I don’t care. Not anymore.”

  “I care,” Pris said gently. “About you.”

  “You shouldn’t.”

  “Is that it then?” Her voice took on a softer tone, one I hadn’t heard her use before. “You don’t want me to care about you?”

  “No.” My body shook violently. “You should let me leave. You should hate me. You should despise everything that I represent.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  I released her hands and paced in front of her, my body wild with pent up frustration, as if I was really living the scene. As if I was really Zach, stuck with wanting a girl I knew I had no future with. I couldn’t give her anything. I was scum, poor. I was the town joke.

  “Hate me!” I shook her shoulders. “Please, I can’t take it, Harley, I—”

  Voice cracking, I touched my forehead to hers.

  “I don’t want to hate you,” Pris whispered. Damn, but I believed her — I believed the entire reality of the scene.

  “What if I beg you to hate me?”

  “I’d be lying to you, to us.”

  “Harley…” I cupped her face. “We can’t go back from this. There’s no returning to what we were. My body won’t allow it, my heart wouldn’t survive it.”

  “Then don’t.” She gripped my face between her hands. “Don’t leave. Don’t make this about what others think. Keep it about us. What do you feel?” She moved her hands to my chest. “Here. What do you feel here?”

  My body trembled. “Afraid.”

  “Zach.” Her voice cracked. “Isn’t that what love is?”

  My eyes opened. “What are you saying?”

  “I love you.” So much honesty came from those three simple words.

  “I’m unlovable.”

  “Impossible,” she whispered.

  “What if I told you I loved you too?”

  “Do you?” Her head tilted.

  I nodded, and then fell to my knees, pressing my face against her stomach. “I do. God help me, but I do. I love you so much. I love you so much I can’t breathe. It’s wrecking me from the inside out — you have everything. Harley, I would be satisfied with just a look from you. A nod, a hand shake, I would be satisfied with anything. But, right now. I have to kiss you.”

  She tilted my chin with her finger. “Then kiss me.”

  “I have to love you.”

  “Then love me.”

  “I want to marry you.”

  Her breathe hitched as her eyes dilated. “Then ask.”

  I couldn’t catch my breath. In an instant, I was on my feet, kissing her, tasting her, touching her everywhere.

  The script dropped to the ground.

  And it was just us.

  Not Harley and Zach.

  But Jaymeson and Priscilla.

  I ended the kiss and pulled back.

  She was a better actress than most girls I’d worked with — it was raw, believable. I was still shaking from the encounter.

  Because while she acted…

  I lived.

  I existed.

  I wasn’t playing Zach. I was playing Jaymeson — for the first time in my life, I didn’t have to pretend to be someone or something. I was being me. I was the one on the floor begging. I was the one confessing my love.

  And I was the one willing to take whatever crumbs she dropped off her table.

  “That was fun.” Priscilla cleared her throat and looked away while I went and pressed stop on the recording. I sent it to Peter immediately.

  If that didn’t get me the job…

  I didn’t want it.

  “Are you staying?” Pris’s hand touched my back.

  I turned and pulled her in for a kiss. “You’d have to lock me out to get rid of me.”

  “Left side?” she whispered against my lips.

  “Any side.” I plundered her mouth and retreated. “As long as it’s by you.”

  Silently, we got into bed. I pulled her in to the curve of my body, and within seconds, her deep and even breathing told me she was asleep. I kissed her temple and whispered, “I love you.”

  ****

  I heard a buzzing. At first I thought some suicidal bug had found its way into the guest room, but it kept getting louder and louder.

  Groaning, I flipped over and noticed it was Pris’s phone. I hit ignore and tried to go back to sleep.

  But it went off — again.

  With a curse, I looked at the screen. It was her dad. Why would he be calling so late?

  At any rate, he stopped calling.

  And I fell into a fitful sleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Priscilla

  I woke up tangled in Jaymeson’s arms, cocooned in his warmth — he was so dang warm — so comfortable I didn’t ever want to leave his embrace. But I had to go to the bathroom, so I scooted away and walked toward the door.

  A blinking on my phone caught my eye.

  Putting off the bathroom visit, I snatched my phone up and saw a few missed calls from my dad and then some random number I’d never seen before. I quickly listened to the messages and smiled.

  “Hey, honey, just hanging out, shooting the breeze. Being awesome. Thought I’d talk to my other favorite daughter. We’ll see you in a few days! Love you, sweetie! Don’t do drugs!” The voicemail ended.

  The next two were warnings about not giving away my rose to a boy who didn’t like flowers and the next one had something to do with pie.

  Parents were weird.

  “I must breakfast you now,” Jaymeson announced when I sat back on the bed. “Or so help me God, I will be the worst boyfriend in the history of the universe.”

  “Aw, how cute. You’ve been drinking already.”

  “Not true!” Jaymeson shot out of bed, his hair a spiky mess, and his cheeks flushe
d.

  How the heck was it fair that he looked like that? And I looked like I got run over by two trucks while I was sleeping?

  “Breakfast for the fair lady.”

  “You’re weird.”

  He shrugged. “Part of my charm.”

  I nodded and looked away. Was he really my boyfriend? Were we doing this?

  “Pris…” Jaymeson’s arms came around me as he pressed a kiss to the back of my head. “Don’t freak out but…”

  My heart started hammering in my chest.

  “…I want to take you on the best date in the history of dates. I want to fly you to London. I want to go to France, and I want to sit at the Taj Mahal and kiss you as the sun sets…” He cleared his throat. “But since Evan’s going to want me to work another day at The Goodwill before I start helping out with the local theatre camp, can we just walk along the beach?”

  I laughed and nodded. “Yeah. But only after you make me breakfast.”

  “Demanding little wench.”

  “Yup.”

  He squeezed his arms around me and kissed my head again, then rose up from the bed and walked to the door.

  When he opened it, Demetri was standing on the other side. A frying pan in his hand and a glare across his ridiculously handsome face.

  “What are your intentions, sir?” Demetri asked.

  Jaymeson crossed his arms. “Breakfast.”

  “Will there be… eggs?” Demetri coughed. “For breakfast?”

  “Probably.”

  “Will they be scrambled? Please say no, please say no.”

  “Stop speaking in metaphors, jackass, and help me feed the women.”

  Demetri peered around Jaymeson and apparently seeing that I was fully clothed and not taken advantage of, seemed to be satisfied and followed my boyfriend into the kitchen.

  My boyfriend.

  Yeah, I would never get tired of saying that. Ever.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Jaymeson

  I went slow with her — even though I knew her parents were coming back soon — I still went slow.

  Without realizing it, I’d become her friend, and then her boyfriend, and quite honestly, I liked the friend part a hell of a lot more than I realized. So instead of locking her in her bedroom — which at times still sounded like a really brilliant idea — I spent an entire week wining and dining her.

  We went to the beach.

  I took her out to dinner.

  We held hands.

  Freaking HELD HANDS. But it was awesome. I loved it — I loved her. More than I wanted to admit out loud, because then it freaked me out that I could possibly lose her.

  Because I still wasn’t sure what I would do once my little jaunt in Seaside ended. Would she come with me? Would she even want to? Did I even want the movie anymore?

  It was day seven, well, actually night seven.

  I was trying to play it cool, trying not to freak the hell out as I lay in bed with her.

  Demetri demanded we leave the doors open just in case I couldn’t be trusted — but honestly, if I hadn’t tried anything before, I sure as hell wasn’t going to try anything now.

  “What’s wrong?” Pris cuddled into my chest and wrapped her arms around me. It was the perfect moment.

  It was also our last night before her parents came back.

  “Nothing,” I shrugged. “I’m just going to miss having you in my arms every night.”

  “Because I’m going somewhere?”

  “Because,” I sighed. “Your parents are coming back and I don’t want to get shot by your pastor dad, that’s why.”

  “He doesn’t even own a gun.” Pris giggled.

  “Um, believe me, if he saw me in your bed he’d go out and buy one — or three.”

  We stayed in comfortable silence for a while before Pris shifted and looked up at me. “What’s going to happen?”

  I suddenly felt sick — like someone had punched me in the stomach. “Is it alright if I’m completely honest and tell you I don’t know?”

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “That’s alright.”

  “Good.”

  Her breathing grew deep and even, but I stayed awake, trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do in order to make it work. In order to give us a fighting chance.

  ****

  Priscilla

  My phone was blinking again. Seriously? How many voicemails could my dad leave? It had been his thing over the past few days. We’d talked a handful of times, but yesterday I’d missed him on account that Jaymeson and I were feeding seals with Demetri and Alyssa.

  The room was still blanketed in darkness.

  With a yawn I reached for the phone. It was only six a.m. Maybe my parents were back already? I looked at the screen. Two missed calls from dad.

  And five missed calls from Stella. How had I slept through all that buzzing?

  Curious, I dialed Stella’s number and waited, hoping she was okay and not in the hospital or something.

  “Hello?” she answered on the first ring.

  “Hi, Stella, what’s up?”

  “Oh, honey.” She sniffled. “Honey, I’m so sorry. I’m just so sorry. There was nothing they could do.”

  “They?” My heart started skipping beats as it slammed sharp against my ribs. “What are you talking about?”

  “You don’t know,” she said softly.

  “Know what?”

  “Honey, maybe it’s best if you talk to the police first.”

  “Why would I be talking to the police?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Stella…” I swear the woman made me want to pull my hair out. “What’s going on?”

  “Honey, I don’t know how to tell you this.”

  “Tell me… what, exactly?” My voice sounded funny, like I was standing in a tunnel. My vision blurred. I knew. Somehow I knew. It was bad.

  “Your parents, honey… they got in an accident last night.”

  My heart stopped. “But they’re fine, right? What hospital are they at? Are they still in Seattle? I can be there in an hour I—”

  “Sweetie, they didn’t make it.”

  My world stopped. I dropped the phone onto the ground and followed suit, my body going completely numb.

  “Priscilla!” Stella yelled on the other end of the phone. “Priscilla! Honey, answer me.”

  Her screams must have been loud enough to rouse Jaymeson. He took one look at me on the floor, tears streaming down my face, and the phone.

  In an instant, he grabbed it. “Hello? Who is this?”

  His entire face went pale, as he pulled me into his lap and rubbed my head, listening to Stella talk, while drawing lazy circles across my scalp.

  I was in such shock, I wasn’t sure if I was even crying. Was I crying? Or were the tears just coming without my permission?

  “I understand.” His voice was hollow. “Thanks, Stella, I’ll be in touch.”

  Without saying a word to me, he dialed another number and barked into the phone. “Get me a plane.”

  He was leaving me?

  I tried to pull away but he was too strong. He hung up and gripped my hands. “Pris, we need to go see your sister. She’s in critical care. They had to fly her to Seattle. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  I nodded slowly.

  “I’ll help you pack, but we have to go. We may not—” His voice caught. “We may not make it in time.”

  That was all it took. I jumped to my feet and looked helplessly around the room. Jaymeson gripped my shoulders. “Grab your overnight stuff. I’ll get some clothes from Alyssa. We’ll leave in ten minutes, okay?”

  I nodded. Thankful that he was in control when I couldn’t be.

  Thankful that his heart was still beating. When I was pretty convinced mine had just died, cracking my chest wide open.

  By the time I’d brushed my teeth, put my hair in a ponytail, and packed what was left of my stuff, Alyssa had come into my room with a bag ready to go and fresh clo
thing that she laid on the bed.

  One look at her swollen face, and I lost it again.

  We hugged for what felt like hours.

  Jaymeson opened the door, Demetri followed, and without saying anything, they surrounded us, keeping us in their embrace as we all held each other.

  “Love,” Jaymeson whispered. “We need to go if we’re going to catch that plane.”

  “Are we flying out of Portland?”

  “No.” He gripped my hand in his. “Seaside. There’s a private runway a few miles away from here. The plane arrived about five minutes ago from Portland. It’s going to fly us into Seattle.”

  “O-okay.” My body hurt. My head hurt. Everything hurt. I couldn’t stop shaking even though I wasn’t cold — just shocked.

  “It’s going to be fine,” Alyssa promised, kissing my head and giving me one final hug.

  We walked outside and nearly ran into Alec and Nat as they ran up the stairs. Nat pulled me in for a hug while Jaymeson filled Alec in on the details.

  Reluctantly, Nat let me go, and they said they’d be waiting to hear news from us. I hated that what was supposed to be a break from touring…

  Was more of a break from life.

  Jaymeson put our bags in the trunk of his Audi while I got inside. I must have been more out of it than I realized, because he had to reach across and buckle my seatbelt.

  It took us exactly ten minutes to get to the airstrip.

  But it felt like ten hours.

  Every part of my body was heavy, like someone had sliced me open and filled every inch of free space with sand.

  “Mr. Jaymeson.” The pilot tipped his hat. “I’m here to take you and your girlfriend to Seattle.”

  I almost missed it. The girlfriend part. I was too exhausted to be excited.

  “Thanks,” Jaymeson said smoothly.

  It took us less than two hours to get to Seattle. Jaymeson didn’t say a word to me — it was weird how well he knew me. If I wanted to talk I would have talked, but I was still trying to process the limited information I had.

  When we landed, Jaymeson led me off the runway to a private parking lot where a black limo was waiting.

  A man in a uniform opened the door, and took the bags from Jaymeson. Once we were seated, Jaymeson didn’t say anything. He simply grabbed a granola bar and handed it to me. “I know you feel sick, love, but you need to eat.”