Dare to Fall

by Estelle Maskame

  First published 2017 by Ink Road

  INK ROAD is an imprint and trade mark

  of Black & White Publishing Ltd

  Nautical House,

  104 Commercial Street,

  Edinburgh,

  EH6 6NF

  www.ink-road.com

  ISBN: 978 1 78530 119 3 in EPub format

  ISBN: 978 1 78530 108 7 in paperback format

  Copyright © Estelle Maskame 2017

  The right of Estelle Maskame to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Ebook Compilation by Iolaire, Newtonmore

  To you, Mum, my best friend and my everything. Love ya best.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Acknowledgements

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  Acknowledgements

  As always, I am forever grateful to my readers, but especially those of you who have supported me from the very beginning.

  Thank you to everyone at Black & White for being the coolest, greatest team of people to work with, and for always believing in me even when I didn’t always believe in myself. Thank you Megan for helping turn Dare to Fall into the book I wanted it to be, Janne for always being there to talk through my ideas with and Lina for reassuring me that everything was going to work out just fine. (It did.)

  Thank you to my best friends Heather, Rachael, Kirsty and Morgan, for making me laugh and letting me whine, which I always needed after a long week of writing. And for binge-eating chicken nuggets with me.

  Thank you to all of you girls in the writers’ group chat - there are too many of you to name, but you guys know who you are, and I am inspired by each and every one of you every single day. Thank you for always encouraging me, cheering me up, and staying up late to write with me.

  Thanks to Don MacBrayne at The Summit in Windsor for answering all of my questions, and to McKenna Gilloth and Caleb Bangs of Windsor High School for accepting my desperate plea to help me out with the more mundane, factual questions I had, including class schedules and carpets.

  And finally, thank you to my entire family for putting up with me during the stressed, anxious months that I wrote this book. We are a big family, but your love and encouragement is even bigger. And most importantly, thank you Mum and Dad, for letting me live my dream and supporting me every step of the way. I love you so much.

  1

  I’ve never known why Monday gets all the credit for being the worst day of the week. I disagree entirely. Sundays are. There’s just something so quiet and still about Sundays that I’ve really grown to hate. Maybe it’s because half the town goes to church in the mornings while the other half attempts to cook a pot roast before giving up and finally ordering takeout. That tends to be the case in my family, at least. Or maybe it’s because half the people we go to school with are at home rushing to finish all those assignments that have been left until the last minute, while the other half of us spends the entire day in Dairy Queen because there’s nowhere else to go. We belong to the latter half.

  “Do you want another?”

  I didn’t realize I’d zoned out until now. Tearing my gaze up from the table, I blink a couple times at Holden while straightening up a little from my slouched position in the booth. I didn’t even notice him get up. “What?”

  Holden looks down at me and nods to the remainder of my iced coffee. There’s only a small dribble left. “Do you want another?” he repeats.

  “Oh,” I say. “No thanks. I’m good.”

  As he turns around and heads up to the counter to order again for what must be the fifth time tonight, I rub my hand over my face, only remembering that I’m wearing two thick layers of mascara once it’s too late. I curse under my breath and pick my phone up from the table, opening up my camera. My eyes are now smudged and rimmed with black. Reaching for a napkin, I try my best to clean up the mess I’ve made, but I only seem to make it worse.

  Will lets out a laugh and I fire him a heavy glare across the booth. He’s chewing on the straw of his chocolate shake, but he quickly ducks when I scrunch my napkin into a ball and hurl it at him. “You’d think you were hungover,” he says as he sits back up, flicking his hair out of his eyes. I can’t remember the last time he had a haircut, but he definitely needs another one.

  “I’m just tired.” I breathe a sigh and turn my attention to the trash that’s amassed on our table. I swear, all we do on Sundays is eat because there’s nothing else to do in this town. There are at least half a dozen empty cups, of which three are mine, and most of the food wrappers are Holden’s. The ice cream tubs are Will’s.

  “Have you noticed who’s here?” Will asks, lowering his voice. He tilts his head down and leans over the table toward me slightly, subtly giving a pointed glance over my shoulder. “I think this is the first time I’ve actually seen her out.”

  Slowly, I shift in the booth and steal a quick glance behind me, and I spot her immediately: Danielle Hunter.

  Over in the booth right by the door, Danielle is sitting with her hands wrapped around a cup, her black hair falling over her eyes. She’s with three other girls, all of whom are engaged in conversation, but Danielle is staring blankly at the table as though she is entirely tuned out of her surroundings. As I study her from across the restaurant, a lump forms in my throat. It’s a surprise to see her here. She rarely goes out. No one ever sees Danielle Hunter anywhere other than school these days.

  “Well,” I murmur as I turn back around to face Will. “That’s new.” I steal another glance over my shoulder at Danielle, feeling strangely unnerved by the sight of her. I haven’t spoken to her in a long time, so I am praying that she doesn’t spot me over here, but I am intrigued by how alone she seems.

  I only turn my attention away from her when Holden returns to the table with another burger, his third of the night, and slides back into the booth next to me. The football team lost the game against Pine Creek yesterday, so he’s in a sulky mood, disappointed with his performance, and Will and I have agreed not to mention it. “Last one, I swear,” Holden says as he takes a huge bite, and I shoot him a repulsed sideways glance.

  “Sure it is,” Will says with an air of sarcasm. I think he likes to push Holden’s buttons sometimes, but it’s always harmless, and I find it entertaining to watch. He leans back against the window, closes his eyes, and angles his head away from us.

  I pick my phone up to check the time while Will snoozes and Holden devours that gross burger of his. It’s just after 9:30PM, and pretty soon the manager will begin making her way around the booths to kick everyone out so that they can close up. I nudge Holden. “Let me out for a second.” With his burger still clenched tightly in his fist, Holden begrudgingly moves his legs aside just enough to let me slide o
ut. Sighing, I gently whack his bicep. “And stop beating yourself up,” I tell him, breaking the pact I made with Will. Football season has only just started; I can’t put up with months of Holden being grouchy every time the team loses a game. He gets temperamental every single season, but even more so this year it seems. He’s barely said two words to us all night. “You’re playing Broomfield on Friday, right? You guys will win that game for sure!” I reassure him as I squeeze past.

  Holden shrugs his shoulders. Reluctantly he flashes me a small smile. “I guess we’ll see,” he says.

  “I guess we’re still being monosyllabic,” I retort, rolling my eyes.

  Will heaves a sigh and opens one eye, though he doesn’t move an inch. “Broomfield aren’t that great though, right? So maybe you’ll actually catch a pass this time.” As he closes his eye again, he’s smirking. Holden seizes the opportunity to throw his balled-up burger wrapper at Will, hitting him square in the forehead.

  “Catch that, asshole,” he grins. Idiots.

  I leave the two of them goofing around and head off to the restrooms. The closer it gets to 10PM the more empty Dairy Queen becomes, though there’re still some people from school hanging around. Once the manager kicks us out, that’s it: There’s nowhere else to go other than back home. I briefly give Jess Lopez a smile and a “hey” as I pass her table, but she’s with some girls who I don’t know all that well so I don’t stop to chat.

  I continue into the cramped restrooms instead and lock myself in one of three tiny stalls. While I’m there, I send my dad a quick text to let him know I’ll be home within the next hour, resigned to the fact that Sunday is almost over. I slip my phone back into the pocket of my jeans as I unlock the door, swinging it open. My heart stops for a split second when I glance up and there’s someone there, standing motionless in front of the sinks. I hadn’t heard anyone come in, and the moment I realize it’s Danielle Hunter, I freeze on the spot. Her back is to me, but in the mirror’s reflection her eyes meet mine.

  I haven’t said more than a few words to Danielle since last year. I’ve barely seen her, and when I have I’ve never known how to act or what to say. So I just don’t say anything at all. What are you supposed to say to someone who’s grieving the death of her parents? I don’t know. No one does.

  But right now, I can’t just turn my eyes down to the floor and keep on walking like I would do otherwise. I’m suddenly aware of how small it is in here, and she’s watching me with those blue eyes of hers. They are such a stark contrast with her newly jet-black hair that it just doesn’t quite look right. Her entire face is blank, emotionless. I swallow and shift past her to the sink farthest away. I turn on the water, staring robotically at my hands as it cascades over my skin. Do I say something? I know I should, but I don’t know what and I don’t know how. My cheeks feel hot from the pressure bearing down on me while I deliberate over whether or not now is the right time to finally say something to Danielle Hunter. I have always wanted to talk to her again, but never could.

  I glance back up at Danielle in the mirror, only to find that she’s still staring at me. I am going to go for it. I am going to talk to her, and I am going to do it right now before I overthink it. With as much courage as I can muster, I force myself to look directly at Danielle. The smile I plaster upon my lips is supposed to be normal and sincere, but I’m trying too hard and she knows it. “Hi, Dani,” I say. Saying her name gives me goosebumps. “It’s really nice to see you out.”

  Danielle narrows her eyes at me, and I allow my smile to slowly collapse because I know she can see the reality behind my expression. I’m looking at her the way most people look at her: with pity. There is a hint of surprise in her blue eyes that I’ve actually spoken to her, though she doesn’t say anything in response. Her frown doesn’t so much as tremble as she looks back to her reflection in the mirror, pressing her hands to the edge of the sink.

  Her silence is worse than any other possible reaction, because now I’m unsure how to navigate the situation. I’ve done what I should have: I’ve told her it’s nice to see her out. That’s what I’m supposed to tell her, but she doesn’t seem to appreciate it. Her expression is so blank, so empty, that it is impossible to read.

  It’s been a rough year for the Hunters, and the entire town of Windsor knows this. I’ve witnessed how drastically Danielle has changed, how broken she’s been, how big an impact her parents’ deaths have had on her. I remember when her hair was triple its length, when it swayed down her back in blond waves, when her cheeks were always flushed, when she was known for having the loudest laugh in every single one of her classes. She’s not the same girl she was a year ago, but who can blame her? No one has forgotten the Hunter tragedy, and no one knows how to deal with those left behind. Especially not me.

  The thing is, I haven’t just been avoiding Danielle for a year now. I’ve been avoiding her brother too. Jaden, the second half of the Hunter twins, who still smiles at me whenever he sees me. Jaden, who I’m not brave enough to stop and talk to. Jaden, who I don’t know how to act around anymore. Jaden, who I’m terrified has changed just as much as his sister has. I can’t bring myself to be around either of them. I can’t deal with the constant fear of saying the wrong thing. I can’t cope with the effects such a devastating loss will have had on them. It’s not that I don’t want to. God, I want to. But I just . . . can’t.

  With water dripping from my hands, I turn off the tap and quickly dry them on my jeans. I try to look at Danielle again, though I can’t exactly meet her eyes now. They look so much like Jaden’s. She is still quiet and the time has passed for her to reply, so I know I have to say something else. I feel anxious at the thought of bringing him up, but I gulp back that fear and quietly murmur, “How’s Jaden doing?”

  I don’t know how Jaden is doing, because I have never asked even though I know I should have. I am afraid the answer is anything other than “okay” or “fine”. That’s why I am waiting with bated breath, my eyebrows pinching together with sympathy.

  Danielle immediately tilts her head and her bangs fall over her eyes. “Why do you ask?” she responds quietly, and I’m taken aback at the defensive tone to her voice. “It’s not like you care.”

  I stare back at her, stunned by her words. A year ago, Danielle and I were friends. She used to joke that if Jaden and I ever got married, we’d technically be sisters, and she had always wanted a sister. What I never told her was that I had always wanted one too. “Dani . . . ”

  “Because if you really did care,” she says slowly, turning fully toward me, “then you would have asked that question a year ago when . . . ” Her sentence trails off, but I already know what she was going to say. She was going to tell me that if I really cared, I would have asked how they were doing a year ago when their parents were killed.

  “Dani . . . ” I shake my head and take a step closer to her. The last thing I expected to do tonight was confront Danielle Hunter in the Dairy Queen restrooms. “You know I care.”

  “You have a funny way of showing it, MacKenzie,” she says, her tone softer. She turns back to the mirror and moves her bangs back out of her eyes, then reaches for the door. However, she pauses and looks back at me over her shoulder before she leaves, mumbling, “I’ll tell Jaden that you asked.”

  In that moment, as I stare after Dani, her words left hovering in the air around me, I feel like the smallest person in the world. I don’t know why I am so surprised. It’s not as though I expected her to treat me the way she used to, because I don’t treat her the way I used to either, but I guess this is why I have been dreading this moment for so long. I knew from the second I pushed the Hunters away that things would always be different between us, but I had no choice.

  I don’t want Holden and Will to wonder where I am, so after a deep breath I leave the restrooms and head back to our booth. I notice that almost everyone has left apart from us and Dani’s group, though they seem to be getting up to leave. I nudge Holden as soon as I reach him, ur
gently shoving him further into the booth so that I can slide back in next to him. My face feels hot.

  My discomfort must be evident, because Will immediately sits up. “What’s up with you?” he asks.

  “I just spoke to Danielle,” I tell them, my voice a whisper. “It’s the first time I have since . . . ” Even I can’t say it out loud. Quickly, I glance back and forth between the two of them, trying to gauge their reactions. Holden frowns and moves away from me, leaning into the window and turning his attention to the parking lot, whereas Will looks curious.

  “You spoke to her?” he asks, clarifying that he did actually hear me correctly.

  “I had to. She was right there.” I prop my elbows up onto the table and throw my head into my hands, closing my eyes and releasing a muffled groan. The last person I expected to deal with tonight was Danielle Hunter, and I certainly didn’t want the Dairy Queen restrooms to be the time and place where I did speak to her again for the first time. I wish I could have said something more, or at least something else. “She hates me, I can just tell,” I mumble against my palms.

  “Well,” Will murmurs. His words are slow, his expression cautious, and I slowly raise my head again to look at him. “You can’t exactly expect her not to . . . After all, it’s not like she knows why you cut her off.”

  “That isn’t helpful,” Holden cuts in, snapping his head around from the window again. “Sure, she’s avoiding them, but everyone’s kind of been avoiding them. It’s not like she’s doing it be cruel.” He glances sideways at me, searching for confirmation. “Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do. Right, Kenzie?”

  I can only nod.

  Before either Holden or Will can say anything more, the manager pops up in front of our booth out of nowhere, politely asking us if we can get a move on because they want to start cleaning the place up before they close in ten minutes. When I look around, I realize we’re the only ones still here.