After I Fall

by Amity Hope

  “Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “On a positive note, since the last month of school was hell, having to see them together every day, eating lunch with them every day, I was kind of glad to get out of there.”

  “Of course you were,” Gabby teased. “Because it meant coming back here.”

  “Enough about my boy drama. Your turn.” I swung my gaze between them.

  “I’ll go,” Alyssa said with a small smile. “Do you remember Logan?”

  I snorted out a laugh. “How could I forget him?”

  Her face turned pink. “We’ve been dating since last summer.”

  I felt my eyebrows shoot up. “Really.”

  Logan had always been a bit loud and obnoxious. Alyssa had always been sweet but on the quiet side. Maybe that’s what made them a good fit. I tried to picture them together but seeing Alyssa in front of me, I just couldn’t reconcile that with the memory of a much younger Logan.

  So, moving on, I turned to Gabby.

  “You don’t know him. His name’s Mason. He just moved here last year. It’s not serious,” she said with a little shrug.

  “That’s not a bad thing,” Alyssa whispered theatrically.

  “Do you know who would really like to see you?” Gabby asked as she leaned toward me. She was smiling as though about to share a secret.

  I’d seen Caitlin. She and Alyssa were sitting right here. If Alyssa was with Logan I doubted he’d be dying to see me. That really only left Seth or—

  “Brent,” Alyssa supplied.

  A little laugh slipped out. “Aw, I’d like to see him too.” I’d always thought Alyssa and Brent would make the cutest, although probably quietest, couple ever. They were both extremely shy around people they didn’t know. Or at least, that used to be the case.

  “Caitlin’s having a party on New Year’s Eve. You have to come,” Gabby ordered.

  “She didn’t seem all that excited to see me,” I pointed out, trying to keep the annoyance out of my tone. “She might not want me there.”

  “Of course she’ll want you there,” Alyssa scoffed. “In fact, she’d be pissed if you didn’t show. It would be like you were snubbing her.”

  “Besides, it’s the perfect opportunity to see everyone again before school actually starts,” Gabby pointed out. “I’m supposed to be going with Mason. And of course Alyssa is going with Logan but we can probably come out here to pick you up.”

  “I’m sure Dad would let me borrow his vehicle,” I said. “That way you don’t need to worry about giving me a ride.”

  “We’ll work out the details later. For now, just promise you’ll go,” Alyssa ordered.

  “Okay,” I said with a smile. “If you want me there, I promise I’ll go.”

  CHAPTER 3

  I’ll be honest. I’d tried to look Seth up on social media sites. Just to say hi, to check in and to let him know I was still thinking of him. That’s what friends do, after all. He was nowhere to be found. Not that this ever came as a surprise. If anyone took his privacy seriously, it was Seth.

  After being home for a few days, I still hadn’t seen him. Dad had gone into work but only after clearing it with me half a dozen times. He owned the biggest car dealership in Woodbury as well as three other dealerships in surrounding towns. Those were managed by other people but Dad had always been incredibly involved in all of his businesses. I was sure taking a few days off had put him behind in whatever schedule he’d set for himself. He’d offered to take the whole week off but I assured him I would get along just fine.

  The past few days I’d been kept busy with him, Paula, and my friends. I was kind of looking forward to a quiet day. I still needed to unpack and truly settle in. Maybe I’d even spend some time downstairs relaxing in the hot tub. School would be starting soon. After the busyness of the last few days, relaxing sounded tempting.

  I started the day by sleeping in. By the time I trudged downstairs, it was almost noon.

  I pulled a canister of instant caramel cappuccino out of the cupboard and made myself a mug. What it lacked in flavor, it made up for in caffeine as I added an extra scoop.

  I wiggled my toes inside of my slippers as I laced my fingers around the mug, enjoying the warmth. As I took a few sips, patiently waiting for the caffeine to kick in, I gazed out the sliding glass door that led out to the upper level deck. The backyard was buried under snow. The sandbox and the swing set were long gone. The oak tree where Seth had kissed me looked scraggly and bare against the backdrop of a clear, periwinkle sky. The tree house looked the same as it always had, though it’s peaked roof was buried under snow. The sun was shining. If I lifted my gaze high enough so that I didn’t see the snow on the treetops, the day would look deceptively warm.

  I sighed because even inside of the house, in slippers, flannel pajamas and a hot mug in my hands, I could swear I still felt the winter chill.

  I glanced around the kitchen. Mom had taken so much with us, leaving Dad to purchase everything new. The result was that the kitchen looked different. Like so much of the house. It was familiar, yet not.

  Now that I had my house to myself for the first time, I took my time wandering through it. Mom had taken the nice furniture from the living room. Dad had replaced it with an even nicer, leather set in burgundy. She’d also taken the dining room table. Again, he’d replaced it with something nicer. I had made a verbal note of these changes. Paula had quietly admitted that until recently, the rooms had remained bare. Dad had eaten at the breakfast bar. He’d spent his free time downstairs in the family room on the comfy but worn furniture that had been left behind.

  When he’d learned I’d be moving home, Paula had convinced him it was time to properly furnish the rooms again. She’d taken him shopping. At first appearance, she seemed somewhat mousy. Yet she seemed to have impeccable taste. The new furnishings were so stylish I was sure even Mom would approve.

  I smirked to myself, wondering what Mom would think of that. As I glanced at the walls, I noted that their wedding picture was gone. Of course it was. It wasn’t exactly a surprise but the wall looked oddly empty. It didn’t take long before I realized that all of the pictures of Mom had been removed.

  All that remained were pictures of Dustin and me. Dustin in his football uniform. Me in my cheerleading uniform. A large portrait of us taken during his senior picture photo shoot. There were smaller photos as well. Dustin with his date for senior prom. Me with a group of my friends at the beach.

  The pictures made me smile. Even if we’d been living far away, out of sight, apparently we weren’t far from his mind.

  I finished off my cappuccino and meandered back to the kitchen, feeling slightly more alert. As I rinsed out my mug I noticed that the antiquated answering machine that rested at the end of the breakfast bar was blinking. I strummed my fingers against the countertop for a second, wondering if I should listen. It was possible it was Mom, Dad or even Dustin that had left a message. Of course, it could also be from Paula. I decided I should play the message, just in case Dad was calling for me since I’d left my cell phone off. Or maybe it was a message for him, something important that should be relayed to him quickly.

  As I made my way toward the machine, I wondered how long it would be until I felt at home in this house again. Until I would feel it was okay to listen to a message without feeling like an intruder. Or without overanalyzing something so simple.

  I shook off the intrusive feeling and hit the ‘play’ button.

  I listened to the message twice to be sure I had it right. Bart Ryerson had called to let Dad know that his mail had, yet again, been delivered to his house this morning. From his tone, I had to guess this was an ongoing issue.

  It was clear that Bart wanted the mail picked up. The sooner the better. He was the last person I’d willingly do any favors for. But it would help Dad out, save him a few minutes, if I ran over to get it. If I was lucky, maybe Seth would be the one to answer the door. It could be the perfect opportunity to say hi.

  By the t
ime I finished listening to the message for the last time, I was alert. I knew it had nothing to do with the caffeine. I bounced up the stairs, going straight to my room. In minutes I had boxes opened and clothes tossed haphazardly across my room. Clothes that looked vaguely familiar—because I’d picked them out online but had yet to see them in person—littered my floor.

  I settled on an old pair of jeans and a brand new sweater. I brushed my long, blond hair out and then swept it up into a simple ponytail. I decided not to waste time bothering with make-up. Instead, I just swiped on a layer of lip gloss.

  Minutes later, I was standing on our front porch. If I cut straight across the lawn to the Ryerson’s front door, I wouldn’t have to go all that far. However, in my haste, I’d forgotten about the snow. Unless I wanted to trudge through knee deep drifts, I’d be better off walking down the length of my driveway, down the short stretch of road and then down their driveway. I set off, immediately wishing I’d remembered to put on my coat but simultaneously feeling too stubborn to go back inside to get it.

  Instead, I just quickened my pace, though not by much. My favorite pair of boots were made to be stylish, not made to be functional on ice. As I shuffled my way to my neighbor’s house, I realized my heart was rattling around. I doubted it had much to do with the treacherous hike over.

  I lifted my already freezing finger and pushed the glowing button of the doorbell.

  To my disappointment, Mr. Ryerson answered the door moments later. As always, I was taken aback by his size but even more than that by his arrogant demeanor. Without saying a word, his superior attitude emanated from him.

  I didn’t know much about Mr. Ryerson’s profession. I did know he was a financial advisor. I also knew his business was extremely successful. I had to assume that his overconfidence, something I found off-putting, was actually something that his clients appreciated. Other people must’ve appreciated it as well because for as long as I could remember, he held the seat of city treasurer on Woodbury’s city council. Or maybe they didn’t care about his personality as long as he was good with numbers.

  Today, as always, he was wearing dress pants and a button down shirt. I wasn’t sure that I’d ever seen the man in jeans. Mom, while always incredibly put together, had no qualms about wearing jeans if the occasion fit. Of course, she would only wear the most expensive that Whittington’s had to offer. But still, she was capable of casual while Mr. Ryerson was not.

  I cringed as his eyes swept over my body. They lingered inappropriately. I never would’ve guessed I could feel so naked while wearing jeans and a black, cable knit sweater. Disgust swirled through me, tying itself into a knot that settled into the pit of my stomach.

  “You must be Seth’s latest plaything.” His tone was light. His expression was mocking.

  The knot in my stomach twisted itself just a little tighter. The revulsion—from simply being in his presence and from his insinuation—must’ve shown on my face. He looked pleased over my disgust. As if his words had hit their mark, as intended.

  “Actually,” I flung a finger toward our mailbox, “I’m here to get our mail.”

  He blinked at me, his face going momentarily blank.

  I didn’t want to prolong this.

  “You left a message. For my dad?” I raised my eyebrows, silently asking if he understood.

  His blank expression crumpled into a fake, cheery smile. “Harper.”

  “Right,” I said, ignoring the way he suddenly turned neighborly on me. Apparently I was no longer a girl to trash talk. I was simply here for the mail. For my father.

  “Come in,” he ordered as he stepped back. His demeanor had gone from lecherous to sociable.

  I almost declined. I was freezing yet I’d rather deal with the weather than him. I stepped inside regardless because my curiosity had gotten the better of me. I had intended to ask if Seth was home. After his derogatory comment, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  “Come on,” he ordered again. He sauntered toward the doorway that I knew led into the kitchen.

  “I’ll just wait here,” I said as I stood in the foyer. “My boots are covered in snow. So if you could just bring me the mail, I’ll be on my way.”

  “Suit yourself.” He disappeared through the doorway.

  As I stood there, it was impossible not to look around. It was only days after Christmas yet there was no sign that the holiday had ever been celebrated. No tree. No decorations. No sign at all of good cheer. The house itself was as pristine as I remembered.

  My eyes nervously darted toward the staircase. Surely, Seth had heard the doorbell ring. I realized then that it was entirely possible that he wasn’t even home. The house seemed awfully quiet. As if no one, other than Mr. Ryerson, were here. The thought made my skin crawl. I wasn’t afraid of him, exactly. But I also didn’t want him to know just how much he intimidated me.

  “Here it is,” he said as he shuffled a few letters together. “I don’t know why Steve doesn’t let them know how much of an inconvenience this is. I don’t necessarily enjoy getting his mail so frequently. Doesn’t it bother him?”

  I shrugged as I reached for it. He held it in his grip a bit too long before releasing it to me. “I have no idea. You’d have to ask him.”

  “Oh,” he said, his voice thick with annoyance, “I have.”

  “Okay then,” I said as I turned to go.

  He reached across me, placing his hand on the door, bracing it shut before I’d even had a chance to reach for the doorknob.

  “So tell me, are you visiting for the holidays?”

  “No, I’m here to stay.”

  He gave me a slow nod. “I didn’t realize that.”

  I wasn’t surprised. I wasn’t positive that Seth knew I was back. I assumed either Alyssa or Gabby had mentioned it. Especially if they’d told Brent. Then I realized that Seth’s name hadn’t come up at all the last few days. Were they all still friends? I had no idea. Even if Seth was aware that I was back, I doubted he’d share that, or anything really, with his dad.

  “I better get going. I told Dad I’d call to let him know if there was anything important.” I lifted the mail in my hand, a visual aid to my lie.

  His hand slid from the door and he stepped aside.

  “Remember to talk to your dad about calling the Post Office. I’m working from home this week. I really didn’t need this disruption.”

  I wanted to point out to him that he was the one that had prolonged this ‘disruption’. If he hadn’t blocked my way out, I’d be halfway down the driveway by now. Instead, I said nothing as I slipped past his imposing form.

  *****

  The last time I saw Seth, I was wearing cut-off jeans, flip-flops and a purple tank top spattered with teardrops. I was in the midst of some major ugly-crying: red face, puffy eyes, and runny nose.

  Mom had impatiently honked the horn of her SUV as I’d hugged my best friends goodbye. First Alyssa, then Logan and Brent, Seth, and last, Gabby. Caitlin hadn’t shown up. I had been too distraught and emotional to care much about how I’d looked.

  The next time I saw him, I was in too much pain to care how I looked. I was trying to catch my breath and trying to ignore the jolting throb at the back of my head. All while flat on my back watching little puffs of icy air floating in front of my face with each exhalation I made.

  “You okay?”

  I stifled a groan as I turned my head his way. It took me a moment to realize what had happened. One moment, I was hurriedly traipsing down the driveway. The next, something startled me enough to send my feet skidding out from under me. I now realized that sound was the sound of the garage door being raised.

  His form was nothing more than a large silhouette, blocking out a bit of the blinding sun as he stood over me.

  His presence distracted me enough to pull me from my fog of pain. I pulled myself into a sitting position.

  “You’re going to freeze down there,” he said. “Do you need a hand?”

  It didn’t so
und like he wanted to give me a hand. I shook my head. “No, I’m fine.” With those untruthful words I tried to pull myself to my feet. The slick soles of my boots—the reason I’d ended up flat on my back on his ice-covered driveway in the first place—had other plans for me.

  As I began to flail my arms in the most embarrassing way, Seth’s hands came out to steady me. He gripped my forearms, guiding me to my feet. Luckily I managed to stay upright on my own because his hands didn’t linger long enough to keep me upright if I toppled.

  Instead, he leaned down to pick up the mail I’d scattered. This brief distraction gave me just a few seconds to look at him without being obvious about it. His sandy blond hair was half hidden under a baseball cap. His face was scruffy and it suited him well. He had shot up several inches. At one time, we’d been the same height. But now, as he rose with the envelopes in his hand, he was a few inches taller than me, even though my boots had a heel.

  His eyes were the same. A clear, crystal blue. But the expression in them? That had changed. I wasn’t expecting him to welcome me back with squeals and hugs like Gabby and Alyssa had done. But his detached attitude hurt far more than Caitlin’s had.

  His gaze drifted down my body and back up again. It was in a completely different way than Mr. Ryerson’s gaze had drifted over me.

  He handed me the mail. “You shouldn’t be wearing boots like that. Some girls can pull it off. You don’t seem to be one of them. Good thing you walked over here,” he said as he started backing away. “You shouldn’t be trusted behind the wheel if you can’t even handle being on your feet.”

  It took a moment to scrape my dignity off of the driveway but I finally managed. I planted my fists against my hips. Despite feeling completely off balance, both physically and emotionally, I managed to scrounge up just a bit of sarcasm. “Gosh, Seth. It’s nice to see you too.”

  “I’m late. Gotta run,” he said as he vaguely motioned toward the garage. From where I was standing I could see a large duffel bag sitting on the ground. I was sure that bag was filled with hockey gear. My guess was that he’d dropped it there as he’d come to my quasi-rescue. “Later, Monroe.”