Falling (Bits and Pieces, Book 1)

by Shirley Miranda

PARTURE

  The next morning, I hurried to take a shower and get dressed, putting on my navy slacks and light blue blouse. I wanted to get out of the house as soon as possible. I didn’t want to run into my parents at all. I grabbed my backpack, MP3 player, and keys. I walked through the house in the dark. My parents were still asleep. I locked the front door behind me as I exited the house. I threw my stuff into the back seat of my car and took a deep breath. I could do this.

  I headed over to Patrick’s house. It took me longer to get there than the internet directions said. Because, despite printed instructions, I got lost. A couple times. What is wrong with my brain? I can do complex calculus problems, come up with innovative ideas for physics class, but I couldn’t get from point A to point B with directions without getting lost! I finally had to find a main street that I recognized and start over. Eventually, I got there.

  I didn’t know if I should call him or knock on his door when I got there. I didn’t think to ask him last night. When I pulled up to his house, it was all a glow. I nervously walked up to the front door and rang the bell. Surprisingly, Andy answered the door. “Hi, Liz!” He hugged me tightly.

  “Hey, Andy! How’s my favorite second grader doing?” How could I not smile with a sweet kid hugging me and seeming so happy to see me?

  “Okay.” He was still in his pajamas and led me into the kitchen.

  “What are you doing up so early?” I asked.

  Patrick answered, “He heard you were coming by and wanted to see you.” Patrick was dressed in a shirt and a tie, something that I usually saw him wearing on game days, but somehow he looked a little different. Maybe it was the reason.

  I entered the kitchen and saw Patrick and his parents. His parents were already dressed for work. There was a big shopping bag sitting on top of the counter which seemed full of stuff. I got really nervous, I wasn’t prepared to see the entire family. I looked at Patrick anxiously. He smiled and politely introduced me to his parents.

  “Hi, Liz. It’s nice to finally meet you. We’ve heard a lot about you.” Mrs. Connor said as I shook her hand.

  “Yes. Too bad it wasn’t under better circumstances. But I’m glad our Patrick here can be there for you.” I shook Mr. Connor’s hand as he spoke. “He’s a good boy.”

  I smiled. I didn’t know exactly what to say, “It’s nice to meet you, too. I really appreciate you letting him accompany me. It means a lot.”

  “No problem, dear.” Mrs. Connor smiled. “You’re doing me a favor. I’ve been meaning to send a care package to Lindsey. Now, I was able to include some of her favorite cookies.” She got up and headed toward the big shopping bag on the counter. “Oh, and I included a bag of cookies in here for the two of you.” She lifted it out to show us.

  “Mom, we need to get going.” Patrick went to pick up the bag for Lindsey.

  “Okay. Safe flight, guys.” Mrs. Connor hugged him. “Give me a call when you land.” Then she hugged me, “Good luck, dear.”

  “Will do.” Patrick hugged his dad and his little brother.

  His dad shook my hand and gave me his business card. “Here’s my card. Let me know if you need anything. Feel free to call. Okay?”

  “Thanks, Mr. Connor.” I looked at his card, their home phone was written on the back, and put it in my pocket.

  Andy hugged me good-bye. It was nice to have a family see me off—even if it still wasn’t my family and they weren’t really there to see me off. It was still nice. I could pretend.

  I unlocked the car and we got in. I looked back at his house and saw his parents and Andy standing at the front door, waving good-bye. What a big difference from when I left my house. Patrick looked at me, waiting for me to start the car. “You okay? You want me to drive?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I started the car and pulled away from the curb.

  “What is it? I swear, I didn’t tell them anything that you wouldn’t want me to tell them. They don’t know about…well, you know…”

  “It’s not that. Your folks are so nice. I know you’ve talked about them before, but I guess it was hard for me to believe until I met them. You’re really lucky.” I headed toward the freeway and to the airport.

  “Yeah, I know. To be honest, I never really knew how lucky I was until…” He stopped himself.

  I chuckled and glanced over at him, “Until you met me. Huh? It’s okay.”

  “Yeah.” He admitted sheepishly.

  I changed lanes so I could make a left turn. The light was green, so I kept driving. “Liz!” He shouted.

  “What?!”

  “You’re supposed to turn right here, not left.”

  I looked around and realized he was right. “Next time say something sooner. How do I get back there?”

  He was patient and calm as he gave me step by step instructions to get back to where we needed to be and gave me plenty of time to change lanes.

  We spent the rest of the ride to the airport listening to the radio. Morning DJs had their moments. It was their job to help you start your day off with a laugh or thinking about other stuff than your day ahead. So, whether you are laughing at them or the people who call in, you don’t have to think about whatever lies ahead for you. That was good, for me at least.

  We got to the airport and went through security with no problems. Patrick and I found our gate and sat down to wait for our plane to arrive. I started clenching my hands into a fist. Patrick looked at me, “Nervous?”

  “That’s an understatement.” I mumbled.

  “Do you want to go over what you’re going to say?” He offered. I’m sure it was killing him not knowing anything about the trial, but he didn’t let on. “Do you think it’d help?”

  “No. Just distract me. Talk to me. Help me get my mind off of it.” I pleaded with him.

  “Ok. I’m here to help. Let’s see. You going to Winter Formal?” He asked.

  “What? Yeah, no. Me and dancing don’t mix.” I shook my head.

  “Come on. It should be fun.” Patrick teased.

  “According to who? You? I didn’t peg you for someone who looked forward to dances.”

  “Well, no. Not me. No, I’m not really into these things. Becca says it’s supposed to be fun.” He admitted.

  “Becca.” I nodded. “But, you don’t really want to go.”

  “I didn’t say that.” His brows raised.

  “You didn’t say you did.” I pressed.

  “Well, you got me there.” He smiled.

  “So, you’re letting Becca win this one. I guess that’s what a relationship is about. Compromise, huh?”

  “Well, she really wants to go. She found her perfect dress months ago. I don’t mind going, so much. It just isn’t my first choice for things to do. What about you? You’re a girl…”

  “Thanks for the confirmation.” I said sarcastically.

  “What I mean is, most girls can’t wait to go to dances and buy a dress and all that stuff. None of that really seems to interest you.” He was observant.

  “No, not really. It all seems like too much work and effort. Like you said, it wouldn’t be my first choice of things to do. That said, I guess, if there was a guy I really liked, I probably would want to go to a dance with him, if he wanted to go. I am a girl after all.” I admitted.

  Patrick laughed. “I can’t imagine why a guy wouldn’t want to go to a dance with you. I bet you wouldn’t force your date to be on the dance floor all night.”

  “No.” I laughed. “I’d be happy just to spend time with the guy. If he didn’t want to dance, we wouldn’t have to. Why are you letting her torture you?”

  “What makes you think, I think that it’s torture?” He looked at me curiously.

  “The way you talked about it. You get this look.” I shrugged.

  “I have a look?” He was surprised.

  “Yeah. It’s like you’re just waiting for something to hurry up and be over, but you didn’t want it to happen to begin with.”

  “Really?”<
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  “Yeah.” He wasn’t the only one that was observant. I was too.

  “For instance?” He fished.

  “Never mind. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No, come on. When was the last time you saw this look?” He challenged me to provide evidence.

  “Yesterday.” I paused. “I saw you in the quad after school. Becca ran up to you and, uh, greeted you.” I looked at him, watching for his reaction.

  “Okay, I’ll give you that.” He admitted.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “You can ask me anything.” The way he said it, the way he looked, I believed him. He would leave himself open for me to ask anything.

  “Why did you feel that way? I mean, she’s your girlfriend.”

  He didn’t even have to think about his response, “I’m really not into big public displays of affection like that. It’s like she’s putting on a show or something. It’s a turn off for me.”

  I nodded. “Have you ever talked to her about it?”

  “Tried to, a couple times.” He shook his head. “She’d get all upset. I learned it wasn’t worth the fight. So, I just let her and wait for her to be done. I know, it’s not necessarily the best thing to do, but with Becca… I tried to tell her I didn’t feel comfortable when she did all that exaggerated public hugging and kissing in front of the guys and at school and she thought I meant that I didn’t want to kiss her at all. I tried, she just didn’t hear me.” He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Sorry.” We heard them announce the boarding of our flight over the loud speakers. We grabbed our stuff and got in line at the gate’s doors.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “How long have you guys been together?” I didn’t mean to sound nosy. I just wanted to keep my mind on other things and not face what waited for me at the destination of our flight.

  “About six months. We got together toward the end of the school year.” He laughed, “And she’s been complaining about my friends ever since!”

  “Yeah? I don’t think she likes me very much.” My face scrunched up at the thought that she actually seemed to dislike me. I was used to people feeling ambivalent about me, but dislike…or hate. That was different.

  “Aww, Becca is harmless. Like I said, she doesn’t really like any of my friends. She puts up with them, because of me. If she got her way, I’d spend every free moment with her and I wouldn’t even be playing basketball. I may compromise on a lot of stuff, but things that are really important to me, like my friends, isn’t one of them. That’s non-negotiable. We had a huge fight about it once, almost broke-up because of it. Ever since then, she’s put up with them, but complains whenever she gets the chance.” He rolled his eyes.

  We found our seats and strapped ourselves in. “You’re such a nice guy though, that you did give in a little.” I lightly teased him. He looked at me with curiosity. Clearly, he didn’t understand what I meant. “Unless you’re telling me French Club was your idea.”

  Patrick laughed. “Okay, you got me there. You’re right. French Club was her idea. But, hey, she gets French Club twice a month and I get the rest with my friends at lunch. So, she didn’t completely take me away from my friends. I gave in a little.” He laughed again.

  “And if you had your choice in clubs to join?” I asked.

  “Actually,” Patrick smiled. “I think you’d appreciate this. I wanted to start a robotics club. You know, build bots that fight each other.”

  “Yeah? Cool! Why didn’t you?” The thought of building a bigger, badder robot to annihilate other robots was exciting.

  “Well, you know…” He seemed a little ashamed. “Becca said… You know, never mind. It isn’t important.”

  I felt bad that he was feeling bad, that was the last thing that I wanted. “Well, if you ever decide to start it, I’d join.”

  He smiled at me, and then tapped my arm. “Hey, want to try my mom’s cookies?” He looked through the bag his mom packed.

  When I thought about it, I hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast or much for dinner last night. Patrick pulled out a couple and handed one to me. “No, thanks. I’m not really hungry.” This was true. “Besides I might get air sick.” That wasn’t. “But they look amazing.” I added, which was true. They did.

  “Yeah, my mom and Lindsey came up with the recipe when she was a kid.” He smiled. He munched on a cookie.

  “That’s cool. So, Lindsey goes to school up there?” I was glad for an opportunity to change the subject.

  “Yup. She’s at Stanford.”

  “Majoring in?”

  “What else? Engineering. Electrical Engineering. In some families, everyone becomes a teacher or a lawyer or a doctor. We are a family of engineers.” He grinned. “Of course, my sister, the overachiever, decides to double major. EE and pre-law. She wants to be a patent attorney.”

  We played some cards and continued to talk about his sister, the Celtics, favorite movies, books and music, all sorts of stuff. It was nice—getting my mind off things. But in the back of my head I knew it would come to an end all too soon. Sure enough, it was time to land.