Fall Forever (Fall For Me)

by Marks, Melanie

  When I gave her a quizzical tilt of my head, she gave a dramatic shrug—with a huge smile. “That’s totally what it sounded like from his confession to Finn—while they were duking it out, I mean. I didn’t show you that part—but it was awwwwesome.”

  She totally emphasized the “awww” in awesome—smiling huge about it. Like the memory made her giddy and excited. (Did I mention Summer is a total romantic?)

  I put the pillow back over my face, so Summer couldn’t see the tiny smile that I couldn’t hide. I mean, of course the whole thing was morbidly horrible. Tragic. Of course. It had my stomach aching and twisting in knots. But her remarks about Riley—and what he said to Finn—that he “loved” me—well, I couldn’t help it. It made me happy. Ecstatic even. Because I felt the same way about him. I just … did. I couldn’t help it. Even through this horrible mess with Finn, I still loved Riley.

  I could hear the laughter in Summer’s voice, “Okay, Zoey,” she said. “I know you’re smiling under there. And I don’t blame you—having the school’s most awesome, sought-after hottie say he loves you and confess he’s secretly felt that way forever. But unfortunately, there’s more to the story. A LOT more.”

  I threw the pillow off my face and sat up with a jolt, the smile completely wiped off my mouth. I could tell Summer was warning me. Suddenly, my insides were quaking.

  She gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m not going to tell you the rest right now. Don’t check your phone. I mean it, Zoey—resist. Go take a shower—enjoy a moment of happiness. Riley loves you. Just let that sink in and be happy for a minute, okay?”

  I swallowed. “Because you’re going to tell me something awful?”

  She nodded.

  CHAPTER 7

  No matter how much I pleaded, Summer wouldn’t tell me her awful news until after I showered. Then she sat me down at the kitchen table with a spoon and a full carton of ice cream.

  She plopped down beside me, a spoon of her own in hand, taking a scoop of Triple-Chocolate-Fudge before she cleared her throat, hesitant-style, like she didn’t really want to have to go on with the story, but knew I wasn’t going to breathe until she finally did.

  “Okay,” she sighed. Then she just spilled the whole story in a huge, I’m-just-going-to-get-it-over-with gush. “Finn went back to Riley’s after their fight had been broken up.” She savored a spoonful of ice cream before adding, “By the way, the brawl ended—finally—by a bunch of neighborhood dads—a bunch of them, Zoey. It took a mob of dads to get them away from each other.”

  She did a little shudder before going on. “But like I said, Finn came back …” she raised her eyebrows, “—with a baseball bat.”

  I clutched my stomach, the air whooshing out of me. Terrified she was going to tell me that Finn hunted down Riley with the bat and beat him with it. But what happened may have even been worse … to Riley. Certainly not to me, though. Finn had gone after Riley’s car with the bat—the new car Riley loved with all of his heart. Finn smashed in the windshield and all of the windows.

  “The police came and got him, Zoey,” Summer said.

  My heart lurched.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  I doubled over feeling sick. Groaning, “Finn’s in jail?!”

  Summer shook her head, but she had this sympathetic gleam in her eyes. “Riley didn’t press charges,” she explained softly. “He wasn’t even the one that called the police on Finn. It was his neighbors.” Her lips drew into a tight, thin line. “So, no. Finn’s not in jail.”

  She still had that sympathetic gleam in her eyes, though. It told me something just as bad happened. Or something worse. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to brace myself for whatever I was going to hear. But this nightmare just kept going on and on. Getting worse.

  Without even hearing her news, the room was already spinning. Like out of control. Just like my life.

  In the last twenty-four hours I had learned my boyfriend had cheated on me (multiple times), I had kissed his best friend (and loved it), I had witnessed a violent fist fight between the boy I love and the one I used to love (with all of my heart) and now I was learning that something worse than all of that had happened—something worse than going to jail.

  I pressed my hands against my eyes and exhaled slowly. “Where’s Finn?

  Summer squeezed my arm gently, like for support. “He’s in the mental hospital, Zoey—your Mom called them.”

  CHAPTER 8

  The world tilted and spun. “W—what?”

  It couldn’t be true. “My mom called a mental hospital on Finn?”

  “Yeah. Apparently she didn’t want to call the police and have him hauled into jail—again. I mean, twice in one night. But Zoey, I guess the guy went crazy. He was banging on your front door, yelling and demanding that you talk to him. Begging you to forgive him. And—of course—your mom wouldn’t open the door for him. She kept telling him to go away, warning him that she was going to call the police. But he wouldn’t leave. He said he wouldn’t leave until he talked to you—but no way was she going to tell him that you were here with me. Not the way he was acting. She was worried for you, Zoey. And I guess she knew the hospital’s number—because after your dad died …”

  Her voice trailed off and she didn’t finish her sentence, but I knew what she was going to say. What she didn’t have the heart to say.

  I ducked my head, not wanting to see Summer’s face—or her to see mine. Yeah, Mom had taken a couple trips to the mental hospital after my dad died. She had taken his death … hard. To say the least. She was still struggling.

  Summer drew in a long breath. “So, anyway, that’s it—the whole story. Finn is in the psycho ward and can’t come home until the doctors are sure he won’t do himself in—or do Riley’s car in.”

  I sat back and brought my knees up to my chest. Tried telling myself it was karma.

  Summer even said the words aloud. “Come on, Zoey. The guy was crazy for cheating on you. He totally deserves to be there—right where he is.” She raised her eyebrows. “Can you say Big Time Karma?”

  I gave a weak laugh, wiping away a tiny tear. “I know, right?”

  But the poetic justice didn’t help much. Or at all, really. As angry and betrayed as I felt about Finn … well, this didn’t make me feel any better. Possibly worse—if that was possible.

  The thing is—break-ups suck. They just do. Even when you know it’s for the best. Even when the guy you really, truly want took you into his arms and gave you the most delicious, hottest mackin’ session of your entire life—against an office door. Because at the end of the day, what is there? Just a bunch of wounded hearts and broken windows. And an idiot guy that used to mean the world to you now locked in a padded cell. Or anyway, trapped in a hospital where they don’t let you use blunt objects or a dinner knife.

  “Drama much?” Summer asked with a weak, sympathetic grin. Then she gave my arm another gentle squeeze. “I’m pretty sure the guy rues the day he ever cheated on you.”

  Yeah. There was that.

  CHAPTER 9

  Monday, when I woke there was a message scrawled in red lipstick across my car’s windshield. I saw it as was getting the mail. It sent a shiver down my spine.

  The message called me a bunch of filthy words and said I was a “man stealer.” So, I figured it was from Ava.

  But, I also had an “anonymous” message left on my cell phone that morning. It said, “You should let Finn go—you don’t deserve him.” I figured that was from Bianca.

  Actually, I got a bunch of those messages—all day. One after the other. Right in a row. Rant, hang-up. Rant, hang-up. Pretty much saying the same thing over and over, but with different swear words and sometimes screaming. Other times sobbing. Saying things like I had always played with Riley’s head and flirted with him behind Finn’s back. That Finn deserved better … and yeah, that I should let him go. She (Bianca) always said that line in every message—that I should let Finn go.

  Like I didn’t already.
But I did. The moment I knew for sure that he was cheating on me. That moment—it was over. My heart slammed shut to Finn, hard. Tight. Forever. But really, it had even been before that. Because even before that I had known—just without the confirmation.

  When I had gone to work that night—the night everything went down—I’d already planned to break-up with Finn. So, Bianca’s words now in her messages—that I should “Get my claws out of Finn”—just made me roll my eyes and remember how I felt about her less than a week ago. That she should get her claws out of my boyfriend. Now I just didn’t care. She could keep them in. Let them out. Dig them in deeper. Whatever. Anything the psycho witch wanted. I just didn’t care anymore. It would be Finn’s pain. Not mine.

  ***

  So, yeah. I woke to quite a joy on Monday. But then—super joy! I got a call from Finn’s parents. When I saw their number on the caller ID, I snatched my hand away from my phone as though it was a snake. Like it was going to lunge up and sink its fangs into my face. No way was I answering that.

  I listened to their message with my arms wrapped tight around my waist. They asked me to please stay away from the hospital while Finn was “recovering.” They said he didn’t need my “influence” on him just yet while he was “dealing” with his emotions.

  They sounded all curt and condescending. Like they were trying to be “big” about the situation. Like I had broken their son’s heart—evilly cheated on him and kissed his best friend, which obviously drove the poor, innocent boy to do serious, violent, crazy acts—but they were too “civilized” to point fingers at me—the cheating hussy. Instead, they were trying to plead with me (the devil) into leaving their poor heartsick son alone and let him “heal” from my evil doings.

  So, obviously, they didn’t know about Bianca and their son’s evil doings. But that was fine. Whatever. I had no intention of clearing things up with them. I never wanted to see them again. They could think whatever they wanted.

  But THEN I started getting messages from Finn. I didn’t answer those either. But they kept coming. Begging me to come see him. With every text I got from him, my stomach twisted tighter and tighter.

  “I NEED to see you, Zoey. I just want to talk. I swear. I have to see you,” his messages would beg. “Please, Zoey, you owe me that. Just talk to me. Please!”

  I wasn’t sure what I “owed” him. I felt he “owed” me an apology. Big time. But his parents seemed to think I owed him one.

  “You kissed his best friend,” they said in their second message to me, when I finally broke down and texted them (to warn them) that Finn wanted me to go see him—that he couldn’t “breathe right” until he had a chance to talk to me. (His words, not mine.)

  They went on in a barely contained rant, “Of course he went crazy. Er … temporarily insane. You. KISSED. His. BEST. Friend.”

  They said it again, all condescending, “Please, stay away from our son.”

  I was tempted to tell them I had every intention of staying away from him—forever. But there was too much drama. So, I didn’t say a word to them. Not one. I just listened to their clipped messages, then texted them back, as little as possible.

  So … I stayed away from Finn. For a week. And I stayed away from Riley during that painful week too. Couldn’t help it. I already had work off for the next two days after our incredible kiss because that was just how the schedule had already been written up. During that time, I yearned to see Riley—talk to him. Kiss him again. And again. And again. But well, his best friend was in a mental hospital because of our kiss. I wasn’t sure he wanted to see me. And apparently he didn’t. Since, you know, he never came to see me. Or call me. Or text me. Or … anything.

  Everything inside me twisted with worry and pain. I was afraid Riley was over me. Suspecting that, I had trouble doing normal things—like eating and sleeping.

  Instead, I drove by his house (a lot) with various excuses in my tortured brain—any excuse would do. Really, I think I just wanted to see him. Needed to see him. (Me see him, though, not the other way around. Important!! I didn’t want him to see me driving by his house, looking like a total stalker. Okay, I so knew I was being one (I did!), but I didn’t want him to know.)

  Then, two days later—ouch!!! My heart fell to the floor. Totally ached as though it had been stomped on (and it kind of had). Because as drove past Riley’s house, I saw Ava’s car parked there. Paaain!

  Seeing her shiny little car sitting in his driveway I lost all of my breath. Seriously. It all whooshed out of me (violently) like I’d been slugged in the stomach, hard. I practically doubled over from the pain. Though I’d tried to brace myself for it every time I drove by. Because if anyone had “claws” in anyone it was Ava. She had them dug deep into Riley. I should have known she’d find a way to wheedle back into his life. Still, seeing it with my own eyes made everything inside me shrivel.

  Witnessing Ava’s car there (after Riley had kissed me and heartlessly stolen my heart) the world turned black. I could barely see.

  I drove home shaking and trying to be mad rather than hurt. But I couldn’t help it, I was devastated. My shattered heart was crushed. I had wanted to believe Riley. Wanted so bad to believe his soft, tender words and tantalizing kisses. Believe the only reason he had major regrets about our kiss was because of Finn.

  But seeing Ava’s car parked in Riley’s driveway—that pretty much summed up the situation for me. The player had played me. Big time. And I’d fallen for it. Okay, I knew that wasn’t exactly the scenario. Not exactly. But close enough. After all, Ava (his one and only real girlfriend) was the one at his house, not me.

  I exhaled shakily—wondering if he was ever going to tell me about Ava. Come clean about the situation. And the lies running rampant on the Internet—that he loved me. Was he ever going to clean the mess he made of my heart?

  At least he’d gotten his car fixed pronto. The guy definitely had his priorities straight. (Bitter much, Zoey? Why yes. Yes I am.)

  CHAPTER 10

  The day I saw Ava’s car in Riley’s driveway was the day I was supposed to go back to work. That night. But when I came home from seeing her car there, I’d collapsed on my bed. For at least a half hour I just laid there, curled in a ball—hurting.

  I tried telling myself Ava could have been there for all sorts of reasons—like to collect all her things from Riley’s house. After all, isn’t that what people do when they break up?—they get their stuff back? But, no. It didn’t seem right. I didn’t want Finn to come here to my house and get his things from my room. I didn’t want him anywhere near my room. Never again.

  Quick as lightening, I shot off my bed and started grabbing Finn’s things from my closet and dresser top and drawers. I shoved them into my empty laundry basket. (I’d get a box later, but suddenly, at that moment, it seemed urgent that I collect his things—so he couldn’t come here and get them and try to sleaze his way back into my life.)

  Okay, the immediacy of the job was irrational. I mean, he was trapped in the hospital. He couldn’t come and invade my house—no matter how much he might want to. But I worked ferociously anyway, finding each and every item I could that belonged to him. I’m sure a few weeks ago I would have cried over the items—sat mooning over them and the happy memories they possessed. But now, I just wanted them gone—out of my life. Forever. Just like Finn. Backstabbing, lying, cheat!!

  Instead of mooning over the items, they just made me angry. Stupid Finn’s shirt that he had given me last week when I was cold—the night I went to see him while he was at work, and found him huddled intimately in the corner with Bianca. I’d brought him brownies, but suddenly I’d wanted to shove them in his face—seeing him jump away from her when he saw me standing there.

  Then he’d tried telling me they were only working—nothing at all inappropriate was going on between them. It was all in my imagination—my worked-up, jealous, story-making mind.

  Grrr!

  I wadded up the shirt and threw it in the basket, wa
nting to rip it to shreds. Instead, I scrambled under my bed, finding more of his things. The thought that my hunt for Finn’s possessions was only an excuse to avoid thinking about Riley with Ava wasn’t lost on me. But hey, the job needed to be done. And I definitely did need a distraction.

  So, win-win, right?

  (Sob.)

  Finally, I texted Riley. I did it only a few hours before my shift, because all the while as I worked on purging my life from Finn, I was waffling back and forth about work. Wanting to go—to finally talk to Riley and just get the mess out in the open and know where I stood (and probably quit). But another part of me knew I wasn’t ready. A lot of stuff had happened in such a short while and I was going to be overly emotional. Heck, I was overly emotional already. It was like I needed to spend a week where Finn was—in a place that simply dealt with getting better.

  I texted Riley, “I’m not ready to see you yet. Can you fill my spot at work?”

  Immediately, he wrote me back, like he was relieved to get my message. Like he wasn’t jumping up and down to see me either. Far from it. Probably because he wasn’t too excited to tell me he was back together with Ava. Groan.

  Probably the thought of dealing with more girl drama made him cringe. But waaa. Whatever. (Face it, the guy had brought it totally on himself. I mean, he did, right? He had told me he wanted me to be his girlfriend. He said that, right? That hadn’t been my imagination … right? Right?!! Boys suck.)

  Riley responded: “Sure. Take the week off. A lot has happened. We need to talk, definitely—but not yet. Talk to Finn first.”

  I exhaled slowly, then swallowed down a lump in my throat. Talk to Finn first. Right. Riley was most likely hoping Finn and I would patch things up so he wouldn’t have to feel guilty that he and Ava were back together. I mean, those two had a long, sordid history of fighting, breaking up, and then getting back together. He knew that, I knew that, everyone knew that. We both should have been smarter and saw that coming. But since we had gotten “caught up in the moment” or whatever, Riley was hoping for dual make-ups. If Finn and I “talked things out” it would ease Riley’s conscience and let him skip off with Ava and freely forget that he had kissed me and led me to believe we were making a commitment.