Risk the Fall

by Steph Campbell

  I push my sleeves up. “I think I should talk to Quinn first. Then, you know, she can run and tell you everything.”

  “Probably. You know, I sort of think you’re an asshole for going, though. Just so you know.”

  “Thanks for the honesty, Shayna.”

  She flips me off before going back to her dinner.

  “Seriously, though. You and Quinn have been through so damn much, and you pull this?”

  I shift uncomfortably. “I get it, thanks.”

  “I don’t think you do. Because if you did, you wouldn’t have gone in the first place. Were you trying to sabotage your relationship?”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it? Because the way I see it, you’ve got it pretty good, Ben. You have this girlfriend that loves you. And she deserves all of you.”

  “Do you think she’ll forgive me?” I ask. Shayna fancies herself a certified therapist now that she’s completed a whole semester and a half of college.

  “Do you regret it? I mean really? Not the part about getting caught, but do you honestly regret going?”

  “No question.” I’ll regret getting on the damned plane for the rest of my life. “I regret not calling her more while she was gone. I regret going to Georgia. I regret it all…”

  “I have a theory,” Shayna says.

  “Of course you do,” I mumble.

  “I think you pushed her away on purpose.”

  “Why the hell would I do that?”

  “I think you pushed her away so that she’d cling to you. I think you wanted her to need you again. I mean, forget the fact that you ran across the country to be there for Caroline. Even just the little stuff. Coming home late? Sneaking out in the middle of the night to take pictures?”

  “I can’t sleep,” I say.

  “Nope, I think there’s more to it. I think you have to keep moving because you’re trying to mask your own issues.”

  “Which are?”

  “That you grew up in this super strict environment, controlled by your anal-as-hell mom, and now it’s basically impossible for you to figure out how to treat yourself well. So you spend your time trying to make sure everyone else is taken care of. Or, running around at night taking pictures of hobos or whatever it is that you’re calling art these days.”

  Right now, I really think that expensive-ass USC education that Shayna’s parents are footing the bill for may actually be worthwhile.

  “And, because you asked, yes, I think she’ll forgive your sorry ass,” Shayna says just as Carter walks back in. She looks at him and smiles before adding, “If for no other reason than you’re really freaking sexy, Ben.”

  She throws her head back as Carter shakes his at her, and I’m suddenly jealous of the casual, and secure relationship these two have. And I realize that I had that all along. That Quinn never gave me shit about my late nights, and maybe Shayna’s right. Maybe somewhere inside I wanted her to. Maybe I wanted to hear that it was hard when I was gone. Maybe after all the shit that we went through last year had settled, I didn’t know how to just relax with Quinn.

  “Knock, knock,” Quinn’s voice wakes me up the second it penetrates my eardrums.

  “Hey,” I say, flinging myself up to sitting position. I alternate pulling each of my arms in front of my body, trying to stretch the best I can. Carter’s couch was not made for someone my size, but I guess it’s a decent punishment for what I put Quinn through.

  “Sorry to wake you,” she says, glancing furtively around the room.

  “Carter and Shayna left early this morning, if that’s what you’re wondering,” I say.

  “Oh, okay, good. Did you sleep okay?” she asks. Her restless fingers tug at the end of her loose pony-tail. I hate that she’s nervous. I hate that this is where we are. Again. Because of me. I never thought I’d be the one to bring us to this place, that I’d be the asshole that pushed us here. After all of my promises to her about how I’d take care of her, and love her, and this is where we’re at.

  I shrug, “I’m fine. How are you?”

  “I’ve been better.” She forces a smile, but I can tell she’s not even putting in a half effort, because her jaw still looks tense when she does it.

  “I know.” I get up off of the couch and sit on the arm instead, making a small move to be closer to her, even if it’s just another foot nearer.

  “I wanted to apologize,” she says, tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear. That.That place on her neck, that’s my favorite place.

  “Quinn, what the hell are you apologizing for?”

  “Just,” she begins. She holds her hand up so I know that she’s thinking about her wording and that I need to give her a minute to sort it all out. “What I said about you not meaning anything to me?”

  Hearing her repeat it hurts almost as bad as the first time she said it.

  “I didn’t mean that. Of course, I didn’t mean it.”

  “I know,” I say. I’m shocked that she’s here. Apologizing for saying what she did. And instead of making me feel better, it makes me feel even guiltier. Because Quinn has actually changed. She’s grown, and I should have been giving her more credit all this time. I should have trusted that she would be better off knowing where I went while she was in Italy. That she wouldn’t crumble. But I didn’t.

  “I said some pretty shitty things, too,” I say, remembering the barbed words I hurled at her. “I know I’m a fuck up, Quinn, but god, I love you.”

  “I know,” she says. And it’s almost as if my ears don’t believe it when she says it, because it’s just too damn good to be true. Because more than anything, I just want her to believe that.

  “But, I still can’t do this right now. I just need some time, you know? I feel so fucking hurt and confused. And I don’t understand why, if you love me, you would have run off to be with her—”

  “I didn’t leave to be with her.”

  “Just let me think on things, okay? I’ve got to go now, though. I have some things to do since I’ve been gone for so long…”

  She tugs on her navy blue sweater. It’s a simple thing, but I know it’s because she’s nervous and I hate that we’re back at this awkward place. I have to fix this.

  “Fair enough,” I say. “Can I at least buy you dinner?”

  “I don’t know. I just feel like if we’re together right now, it’s going to turn into a fight, and I really don’t want to fight with you, Ben. Because no matter what I said last night, I love you.”

  And I know that it took everything in her to open her heart enough to say those words, especially since I’d just crushed it.

  “Quinn, I could apologize every day for the rest of my life. I can beg you to forgive me. Again. Or, I can hopefully remind you why we love each other. Can we just go back to that for a little while?”

  She taps her keys against her leg and rolls her neck around. Thinking.

  “It’s just dinner.”

  Quinn blows out a long breath. “Fine. Come by the apartment tomorrow at seven. We can have dinner,” she says.

  I know her, and I know that right now, she’s fighting that twitch of a smile in the corner of her mouth. And that in itself feels like a damn victory.

  I’m waiting at our apartment door at six-forty-two. I’m early. I had to be. I couldn’t stand sitting in Carter’s place a minute longer knowing that those were minutes that I could be with Quinn. But now that I’m standing here, I’m wondering if it was a mistake to show up early. Will she even let me in? Will it piss her off that I can’t even follow simple directions?

  I knock lightly and hold my breath.

  “Hey,” she says. Quinn pulls open the door, dressed casually and with one Chuck Taylor on, one in her hand. “You’re early.”

  “I know. I could come up with some lame excuse about why, but really, I just missed you. If you want I can wait out here if you’re not ready.”

  She shakes her head and gives me a small smile.

  “No, come in. I’ll
let it slide this time. You still pay half the rent, after all.”

  I laugh, even though the statement makes me a little sad, because I know that jokes like that make her pain a little less.

  She tells me to pick where we were going, but I know her well enough to know that letting me choose is basically giving me permission to pick one of her three favorite places. We end up at El Café de la Esquina, a little hole-in-the-wall Mexican place that’s just down the street from our apartment and whose name translates into The Corner Café.

  “I went by the school today,” she says. “I got so many damn credits for going to Italy. I am going to graduate long before the rest of the people in my class, which I think is really crazy, right, because, I basically got the trip of a lifetime and it works out that I get to graduate early? What kind of crazy-ass dumb luck is that?” She takes a quick breath and a sip of her soda. “I’m so excited to be eating Mexican food tonight. Don’t get me wrong, the food in Italy was spectacular, but I’m a little pasta’d out right now. And, I’m rambling, aren’t I? I had this grand idea that if I just started off the evening talking, that we could bypass the awkwardness of where things are at...”

  “You’re great,” I say. “But it doesn’t have to be awkward. It’s just me and you.” She twists the strings of her hoodie, and I can hear the light tap the rubber soles of her Chucks under the table.

  “You asked me to marry you,” Quinn says, biting on her lower lip. I know what that lip tastes like. I know how it feels to nip at it. And I’d give anything to do it right now. But I can’t.

  “I did,” I say plainly.

  “That’s crazy, right?”

  Maybe.

  “I don’t know, Quinn. It felt like the thing to do.”

  “I don’t understand how you thought that would make it any better?”

  I don’t know how to answer her. The truth is, I was desperate. I would have said anything to get her to understand that I love her. That my bailing to go to Georgia had nothing to do with me not loving her.

  She sets her menu aside and looks me in the eyes. “What happened while you were there?”

  “Can we talk about this at home?” Is it still our home?

  Quinn gives a quick shake of her head. “I’d like to know now.”

  The waiter interrupts us, buying me a few minutes to figure out the best way to tell her that I kissed someone else. But only a few very brief moments, because we order the same thing we always do, a street-food platter and duck enchiladas to share. Because that’s what couples do. And I don’t want to lose any of this.

  “Caroline called me. Well, Caroline had been calling me. I didn’t lie to you on Thanksgiving when I said that I didn’t know why and I never called her back. I swear to you, I wasn’t lying when you asked me that.”

  “Okay,” is all that she offers.

  “Anyway, I went out there and the good news is, I talked with my mom. I think things are going to be okay from now on with her. And she thanked you for the biscotti. Why didn’t you tell me that you did that?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to Georgia to see your ex-girlfriend?” she asks. The parts that I love most about Quinn are the same parts that scare the shit out of me when I’m the one that she’s angry at.

  “Caroline,” I say, careful not to use her nickname, because I know that it drives Quinn crazy. “She moved in with my parents because her boyfriend— or, her ex-boyfriend was accused of stalking her. He showed up at her dorm, things got really out of hand.”

  “Oh my god,” Quinn says. “What happened?”

  I pause. It’s not my story to tell, but I have to.

  “He attacked her. He tried to rape her. If a friend hadn’t have shown up, he would have.”

  “Shit,” she says. “Is she okay?”

  “She will be. That’s why she’s with my folks. Her parents are trying to get it all sorted out back in Kentucky, and making sure it’s safe for her to come home, you know?”

  “So, that’s it? You just went out there to help her get settled and hung out and stuff?”

  I have to tell her. I can’t tell her. I have to tell her.

  I watch Quinn tense up. “What is it, Ben?”

  I shift in my chair and feel like a coward I am. Quinn knows there’s more.

  “She tried to convince me to stay. With her.”

  “What?” she says through clenched teeth.

  “Caroline is lonely, and scared, and for her, I’m this safety net.”

  “No, no you’re not. You aren’t in a relationship with Caroline, Ben. Did you forget that while you were there? Settle back into old habits, or what?”

  “I didn’t reciprocate, I swear to you, baby—”

  “What? Didn’t reciprocate? Never mind, I have to go. I have to leave.” Quinn slams her palms down onto the table as she stands up.

  “Quinn, come on, it’s not what you think.”

  But she grabs her purse off of the back of her chair and hauls ass out the door. Away from me.

  I easily catch up with her in the parking lot where she’s standing there, shaking with anger. Because of me.

  “Quinn—”

  “I just want to go home,” she says.

  “Okay, get in the car. I’ll drive you.”

  “No thanks, I’ll walk. It’s not far.”

  “I don’t feel safe with you out here alone at night, Quinn. Let me drive you home.”

  Quinn spins on her heals and glares at me.

  “Ben, unlike Caroline, I don’t feel safe with you.” Her words are the daggers she intends them to be.

  “Fine, take my car then, I’ll walk. I don’t want you out here alone at night.” Ben tosses me the keys to his car, the same one that I rode in the very first day I met him and then he turns to start the walk home. I’m not made of stone. It does occurs to me that it’s a crappy thing to do, to let him walk away while I drive his car home. But my anger doesn’t let me stop it from happening.

  I’m adjusting the driver’s seat to accommodate my short-as-hell legs when the passenger door opens and Ben slides in.

  “What are you doing?” I ask. I reach for the door handle to get out. The apartment really isn’t that far.

  “Don’t leave. Please. Don’t run away. Not this time.”

  It’s infuriating that he’s acting like I have the choice to do anything but run. I thought I was ready to hear it all, but I’m not. When he started talking about Caroline wanting him back, all of my fears slammed into me at once. How I’ve never been able to live up to the angelic Caroline. How she still wanted him, and maybe always will. How can I compete with perfection like her? How maybe Ben would be better off choosing her instead. And I’m scared that when he tells me what happened, that it may break me. That this shell with crumble and the old Quinn will step out of it. Angry and damaged and empty inside.

  “I fucked up, Quinn. I know that I did. But you asked what happened. I didn’t want to do this here, but you’re the one that insisted. And you know what? I want you to know. I want it all out in the open, Quinn. Because I’m losing you without you even knowing. I need to at least try to make you understand.”

  I sit there, silent. The familiar smell of Ben’s cologne is all around me. I think about how many times I kissed him goodnight in this car. How many times he dropped me back off at my parents’ house, when all I wanted to do was curl up in this space and stay with him. Because I felt safe and loved like I never had before. I ache to feel that right now.

  “I talked to my mom about you,” he says, tracing a circle on the knee of his jeans with his fingertip. I want to make some snarky ass remark about how I’m sure that went over well, but I don’t. “I think she’s coming around. It’ll be slow, I don’t want to lie and say things are perfect, but she knows you’re it for me. And you are, Quinn. You’re it. You always have been.” He looks up from his pants and tries to catch my eye, but I don’t give in.

  “Things with Caroline…I never meant for it to go tha
t far. I don’t know what I thought was going to happen. I just wanted to be there for her as a friend, I swear to you, that’s all I went there for. But once I got there and I saw how broken down she was, it was like, something else took over. This need to protect her. She’s been in my life for a long time, Quinn, I couldn’t just turn my back on her.”

  “I know that,” I say. And, I guess I partly do. Because I’ve always sort of known that that part of Ben existed. The good-guy who wants to take care of people. It’s just been me that he wanted to take care of before. How can I accept that he feels the same about someone else, too? And flying across the country to see his ex without telling me. “But you could have gone about it a different way. You could have been there for her over the phone. Or, you could have talked to me before you left.”

  “You’re right. I’m realizing how right you are about so many things lately. I finally get that Caroline wanted me back all along. It wasn’t something you made up, it was real. She’s hurting, and scared, but this was something more. I’m so sorry I never took it seriously, if I had, I never would have gone.”

  I normally feel victorious when people tell me that I’m right, but this time, there’s nothing to cheer about.

  “And so that it’s all out on the line…she kissed me,” he says.

  I feel an electric current of anger at Caroline and sadness that Ben has kissed someone else, and guilt that I did so much worse last year course through me.

  “I don’t need to hear this,” I say. I’m shaking. Shaking like the weak person I claim not to be anymore.

  “Yes, you do. She kissed me, but I didn’t kiss her back, Quinn, I couldn’t. I told her to go. And I’m pretty sure that she hates me right now, but that’s okay, because I love you, Quinn. Only you. And I’m sorry that my needing to be needed ruined things. I had no idea how fucked up I was until I made the mistake of going home. But trust me, it’s been clear since then.” I listen to Ben fumble over his words. I want to make it easier for him, but I don’t know what to say. He’s right, he did this.

  “I wanted you to need me, and when you didn’t—”

  “I did need you, Ben. That’s the point. I’ve always needed you. I needed you to be solid. To be constant. And this…what you did…”