Keep From Falling (Markson Grove Series Book 1)

by Amy Vanessa Miller

  As I replay our earlier exchange in my mind I wonder why, all of a sudden, he’s taking a much keener interest in intimidating her lately. I can’t be with her every second of the day and that scares me. I’m afraid of what he might say or do to her if he sees her without me. Hell, I’m scared of what he could do to the both of us even if we are together. There has to be something someone can do for this type of harassment!

  I walk over to the front door and lock up ten minutes before I should. After the lock clicks, I give the door a good kick.

  “What are you doing?” Evan asks with a chuckle when he notices me kicking the door.

  I look up at him in surprise, somehow forgetting that he had been working with me tonight. Even though I am technically still training him, he’s been off stocking the shelves in the back of the store for a good portion of the evening. I’m beginning to wonder why Evan hasn’t brought up the public kiss that’s gotten so much attention on Facebook in the last few hours.

  Do I freak him out now that he knows and that’s why he’s been avoiding me the entire shift? Maybe he thinks I’m embarrassed about it being all over the Internet. I mean, I am embarrassed, but only because I wasn’t planning on people finding out this way. I wasn’t planning for my parents to find out this way either and now it seems like they might. The whole situation annoys me. Why did everyone have to take pictures? What’s the big deal about two girls kissing anyway?

  I don’t know why I even care about what Evan thinks except that I’m drawn to him in a way I can’t explain. I want him to hear it from me. Just like I want my parents to hear it from me. His possible reaction torments me, thought, I’m not completely sure why.

  “I’m annoyed,” I reply finally.

  “So you’re taking it out on the door?” he asks with a slight smirk.

  I bite down on my lip and wonder if I should just go ahead and ask him if he’s seen the pictures, but something about the look on his face makes me decide against it.

  “Yeah,” I say jokingly. “The door asked for it.”

  He laughs and it sounds alluring. So much deeper than I imagined it would.

  I make my way to the counter once again, and begin the process of closing the cash for the night. I move in next to him and our closeness makes my skin tingle. He looks down at me and smiles that half smile I now realize I’m officially addicted to. Oh my God, what am I doing? This doesn’t make any sense at all. How is it that after all of this time with Skylar, a guy is now making me feel this way? How can that be?

  “Bree?” Evan asks breaking into my internal conflict.

  “Yeah?” I say, still captivated by that beautiful half smile and his adorably shy demeanor that tells me that he has no clue how beautiful he actually is.

  “Would it be all right if I kissed you?” he whispers.

  The question is so incredibly innocent coming from his mouth that I want to say yes. I begin to think about what it would feel like to kiss his lips; to feel his warm tongue caress mine. “Ok,” I squeak out before I realize I’m even saying it.

  He leans down and brings his lips to mine so softly that I feel like they are made of silk. I always thought a guy’s mouth would be rough, much like his kissing technique. But Evan’s kiss is soft, slow, and perfect.

  I part my lips slightly and begin to kiss him back. I slide my tongue into his mouth the tiniest bit, in hopes to be able to feel what a boy’s tongue feels like against mine. He responds by caressing my tongue so softly with his that I actually shudder.

  Then I realize what I’m doing.

  I push him away, bringing my hand to my lips in a panic. “That was a mistake,” I say remorsefully.

  He peers at me, wide-eyed and obviously confused. “Why? What did I do?”

  What did he do? Everything. His entire existence is changing me and it can’t happen! I can’t do this to Skylar. I won’t.

  “I’m involved,” I tell him.

  He blinks a couple of times probably trying to register what I’m telling him. “Involved how?” he finally asks with narrowed eyes.

  “I’m with someone.”

  His face turns bright red and he moves away from me cautiously. “I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend. And I asked to kiss you. Why did you let me?”

  “I wanted you to,” I say with so much regret in my voice that it must deepen his confusion. “For a minute I did, but it was a mistake.”

  I’m trying hard to be sensitive to his feelings, but I don’t really know how. It was wrong for me to tell him it was ok to kiss me. It was even worse that I kissed him back!

  “You lied to me about not having a boyfriend?” he asks forcefully. He’s not yelling, but it’s obvious that he’s upset. I’ve embarrassed him.

  I shake my head. “No, I didn’t lie to you.”

  “So what then? Is ‘involved’ some sort of code for a guy you’re just sleeping with?” He asks with distaste in his voice. I’m reminded of his story about the girl who hurt him and I immediately feel guilty.

  I shake my head. “No, I’ve never slept with a guy,” I reply honestly.

  He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “Ok,” he says, and I can tell he’s racking his brain trying to figure me out now. I’m wondering, after all that’s happened at school today, how he doesn’t seem to know yet.

  “I’m seeing Skylar,” I finally blurt out, and it feels weird to actually say out loud.

  Evan’s cheeks go flush, his eyes grow big, and he leans up against the counter. “I’m sorry, what?” He awkwardly tries to find a casual place to lay his arm.

  “Skylar is my girlfriend.” I rephrase the sentence. This time I say it louder and with more confidence because I need him to understand that Skylar isn’t a fling. She’s important to me.

  He says nothing for what seems like an eternity, and I wonder what it is he’s thinking. Is he going over everything I’ve ever told him in his head trying to see if there was any indication of something like this happening? Does he regret kissing me? Does he regret meeting me? How could he not have known after what happened at school today anyway? It’s all over Facebook.

  “Say something,” I finally say in order to break the silence.

  “Ok,” he indulges me. “When you say girlfriend… what kind of… I mean, are you… gay?”

  I don’t like this question.

  “Well,” I begin, “Skylar and I are… involved. We…we love each other.” No labels. I hate labels.

  He scratches the top of his eyebrow and looks at me thoughtfully, as if he’s trying to think over what he wants to say before saying it. “You shouldn’t have said yes,” he says finally, and I know he’s right. I don’t know what came over me.

  “I’m so sorry,” I reply. And it’s not a lie. I feel horrible about doing this to him. “It’s just, I’ve never kissed a guy before,” I start to explain, but he quickly cuts me off.

  “Oh my God, Bree. This is seriously, totally wrong.”

  I lower my head in shame. I can’t believe everything that’s happened all in this one day. My life is being turned upside-down and I don’t know how to fix it or if I even can.

  “I’m sorry,” I say again quietly.

  “This explains Skylar’s weird behavior this morning,” he says. “No wonder she was so pissed. I was hitting on her girlfriend right in front of her. Damn it Bree, I feel like such an ass!”

  “You didn’t know. It’s not your fault. It’s my fault for not telling you.”

  He shakes his head in either anger or disappointment. “I have to go,” he says.

  “Ok.”

  He walks to the store entrance and unlocks the door. As he begins to walk out I call to him. “Evan?”

  He turns and looks at me. His face is sad and it makes me feel terrible. “Yeah?” he answers quietly.

  I want to tell him to stay off of Facebook so he doesn’t have to see the pictures of Skylar and me. I want him to know that I said yes because I’m attracted to him. I want to tell him that if I had
met him first, everything might have been different. But none of those things will make him feel better, so instead I say, “I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

  He nods sadly and walks out the door.

  When I arrive home from work an hour later, Skylar is in the living room watching a rerun episode of the television show FRIENDS. She’s curled up under my big comforter with her bare feet sticking out of the bottom. I close the door softly and tip toe over to her.

  “Where are Mom and Dad?” I ask quietly.

  She smiles. “They went to bed about an hour ago.”

  I crawl under the big comforter and cuddle up next to her. She wraps her arms around me in a warm hug.

  “So, what’s the damage for our public display of affection?” I ask quietly.

  “Actually not as bad as I thought it would be. Hardly anyone posted about it, and there were maybe six different pictures uploaded but in every one of them you couldn’t see our faces. I just untagged both of us. No one will know the difference,” she says with a confident grin.

  I let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good.”

  “Maybe it’s a good thing, though,” she says. “Maybe it’s time for us to let everyone else know that we’re taken.”

  I begin to chew on the nail of my index finger nervously. Something about that comment rubs me the wrong way. “You think people need to know that I belong to you?” I accuse. Why now? Never before has she crossed into this territory of conversation willingly. This is about today at school; about how Evan was looking at me. She’s threatened by him.

  For a moment, she looks taken aback by my accusation but regains her composure quickly. “Not that you belong to me. I’m not saying that I own you, Bree.”

  My shoulders relax and I shake my head a bit as if shaking the idea out as well.

  “I’m sorry,” I say with a sigh and lean in to kiss her. “Of course you’re not saying that.”

  She kisses me back. “Thank you for today,” she says, interrupting the kiss.

  I know that she’s talking about what happened with Parker at school after our public lip lock, but all I can think about is what happened with Evan at the store tonight. Everything I told her has been compromised by my stupidity tonight and she has no clue about any of it.

  I gently run my index finger over her lips, wondering how I can even begin to tell her that I wanted Evan to kiss me and that I told him he could. No matter which way you look at it I kissed someone else, and there is no erasing that.

  Her body tenses up and I can tell that she senses something is bothering me. “What’s wrong?”

  I fumble around in my mind trying to think of the right words to say. But I can’t make it sound any less horrible. I cheated on the person I care about most in the world and I did it without thinking about it. Because why? Because Evan Daniels asked me to?

  I can see the look of worry developing on Skylar’s face and I don’t want to prolong the inevitable. “Evan kissed me tonight,” I blurt out.

  At first Skylar doesn’t react. She sits there looking at me as if she didn’t even hear the words. But then, her eyes narrow and she pulls away from me like I’m a flame that will burn her. “He what?”

  I lower my head in shame. I can’t look at her face right now. I can’t watch the pain and emotion forcing its way to the surface in the expressions she’s giving me. I don’t want her to look into my eyes out of fear of what she might discover. “He kissed me,” I say. “And I kissed him back.”

  Skylar scrambles out from under the blanket. “What the fuck, Bree! Is that why he came to talk to you today? To make a move on you?”

  I shake my head quickly and swallow hard. “No, no, I don’t think so. It was a mistake. I mean, I wanted him to kiss me, I told him he could. But right afterward I knew it was a mistake because I love you, Sky. I’m with you.”

  Skylar begins to pace the floor back and forth and I’m sure she’s thinking about what she can throw at me that won’t make enough noise to wake my parents.

  “This isn’t happening,” she says with a moan. She sits on the floor and pulls her knees to her chest.

  I crawl out from the blanket, over to her. I reach for her face, but she swats my hand away.

  “You wanted him to kiss you? You asked him to?” she asks while trying to hold back the tears I can see are coming. She’s rocking herself back and forth.

  I shake my head. “No. He wanted to and I said he could. He makes me feel things that I can’t explain.”

  “Good things?”

  “Different things,” I reply honestly but regret it almost immediately. The confession seems to make her completely fall apart and she begins to sob loudly. I wish she would yell or scream. I wish she would throw something. But she doesn’t. She just sobs into her folded arms and curled up knees, and it breaks my heart.

  “It won’t happen again,” I say urgently. “I told him that I’m with you and that it was a mistake.”

  She wipes the tears from her eyes but doesn’t say anything for a while as she stares off into nothingness. I shift my body uncomfortably, still kneeling in front of her. My legs feel like jelly but going back to the couch doesn’t seem like an option at this point, so I ignore the discomfort.

  “What did he say back?”

  That was certainly not a question I was anticipating. I think over everything that he said and how upset he was with me. My mind is full of guilt. “He said to tell you that he’s sorry.” I know that he didn’t actually say it like that, but his reaction did, and I feel like the response is appropriate. Skylar’s lips draw into a tight line, unconvinced that I’m telling her the truth. I go on quickly, “He didn’t know. I didn’t tell him till after. He felt like an ass.”

  She lets out a sigh and her shoulders seem to relax a bit. I try to think about what else I can tell her to make her understand that it was a mistake; that I’m one hundred percent with her and that I love her. But something inside of me feels off when I search for the words. Something aches that I can’t quite put my finger on. I shake the feeling away, trying to focus on Skylar and her pain. This can’t be about me. Not right now.

  “Ok,” Skylar finally says, interrupting my inner turmoil. “If you say it was a mistake, then it was a mistake.”

  “It was,” I assure her, but somewhere deep inside myself I know that I’m not as certain as I want to be. Evan’s presence has a power over me that I can’t explain. The fact that we will be continuing to work together after all of this makes me very nervous.

  I sit down on the floor completely now and reach my arms out. She falls into my embrace and moves in closely. I brush the hair from her forehead and kiss her on the lips.

  She kisses me back firmly, with so much force and necessity that I almost pull away, but I stop myself. I know that she’s only forcing the kiss because she’s scared that my feelings have changed. Instead, I return her need with an equal amount of eagerness and press my body to hers.

  We both sit up on our knees as we continue to kiss. She reaches for the bottom of my shirt and begins to yank it upward. I put my arms up willingly as she pulls the shirt over my head. She reaches behind me for my bra strap as I begin to unbutton the front of her shirt. We shouldn’t be doing this out in the open, but making out in my living room instead of the confines of my bedroom is incredibly freeing!

  And as each button of her shirt comes undone, I continue kissing the bare skin being revealed underneath, taking in the soft scent of her body wash. This is good. This is right. This isn’t Evan, and that’s how it should be.

  Later that night, I awake from a troubled sleep and sit up quickly. It occurs to me that I’m sleeping on the floor, but I can’t remember why I’m not in my bed. As my heart rate begins to slow, and my eyes come into focus in the dark room, I realize that I’m not even in my room at all. I’m in the living room. I look over at the clock above the TV and see that it’s 2:26 AM. It feels like it should be later.

  I pat the dark floor around me, trying to
locate Skylar, but I can’t seem to find where she’s sleeping. Did she get up and move to the couch? I climb to my feet and fumble over to the lamp next to the couch, turning it on.

  In the now dimly lit room I realize that Skylar is nowhere to be seen, but she definitely was sleeping on the pile of blankets on the floor with me, because there is still an indentation of her body next to where I had awakened.

  “Skylar?” I call out quietly, trying not to wake my parents. She doesn’t respond, but a creak coming from the kitchen draws me in that direction.

  As I turn the corner and enter the hallway that leads to the kitchen I see a silhouette of her on the wall ahead of me. I can tell by her shadow that she’s standing in front of the stove.

  “Skylar,” I say again a little more urgently. I know she’s in there and is not responding to me on purpose. I just don’t know why.

  The shadow moves all over the wall erratically and I pick up the pace to reach the entrance of the room. I am certain now that she is intentionally trying to hide something from me and I want to know what that something is.

  I turn the corner and the minute that I do, I let out a gasp.

  “I needed to do it,” Skylar says quickly, spinning around to face me. Her arms are cut all over. Droplets of blood fall from her fingers to the floor and she scrambles with some paper towel to wipe them up.

  I move over to the counter and grab the roll of paper towel. I open the cupboard next to the sink, where my mom keeps some first aid items, and pull out the rubbing alcohol.

  “Why?” I ask, my voice trailing off. I soak the paper towel in alcohol to clean up her self-inflicted cuts. I’m certain I know why she’s cutting again, but I can’t think of what else to say because I know that it’s all my fault.

  She winces with the sting of alcohol on her wounds but only for a moment. This isn’t something new for her. “You weren’t supposed to see this,” she says after a few moments.