Falling to Pieces

by Leddy Harper

  But the worst damage comes from not being prepared. From being hit with disaster without an ounce of warning. From being deceived when the weatherman predicts sunshine and blue skies, completely ignoring the monsoon brewing outside your front door, just waiting to completely decimate you whole.

  My proverbial natural disaster came in the form of a golden retriever while I read my book, minding my own business. I heard the clinking of the tags first, then the shuffles in the dried leaves that covered the ground. I glanced up from my book, wondering about the distraction ahead of me, when I found the most beautiful dog with long, blond hair and a wagging tail. I stood, stuffed my book into my jacket pocket, and then slowly approached the animal. I made sure to keep my movements soft and fluid, not wanting to frighten it, but it came right to me, panting around the heavy tongue that hung from the side of its mouth.

  “What are you doing out here?” I asked aloud while petting the soft coat. I took a peek at its belly, checking the gender before taking a look at the tags around her neck. “You’re a good girl. Where’s your home?” Her tags held no information other than proof of her vaccines. I knew she belonged to someone who took good care of her because she certainly didn’t appear to lack food or shots.

  She turned around, heading back where she had come from, and I followed, making sure she got home safely. Every few feet, she’d stop and glance behind her, checking to see if I still trailed her, and it put a smile on my face. I laughed at the thought of her playing matchmaker for her owner and me. That’d be something I would read about in a book, not something that’d happen in real life, but it gave me humor to imagine it, nonetheless.

  We must’ve walked about six houses away from where we’d started, toward the far end of my street. The wooded area had grown wider with every step we took, and it became harder to see the houses on either side of the line of trees. But eventually, I followed the dog out of the neighborhood forest and into a well-manicured back yard on the street behind mine. Her pace slowed, showing how exhausted she must’ve been after her adventure.

  I stroked her coat once more, and then waited for her to plop onto the open patio before turning to head back, but she stopped when someone spoke up. “Lassie? Where did you…?” I stilled at the edge of the yard, my feet teetering on the line of grass that disappeared beneath brown leaves. I didn’t move again until I heard my name. “Bree?”

  With my heel dug in, I spun around, squinting my eyes in the sun to find the owner of the deep voice that had called my name. I shouldn’t have been surprised when I found him, since I’d heard him say my name dozens of times before, but that didn’t stop the swarm of Monarchs in my stomach when my eyes settled on his before wandering south to take in a body I’d only dreamed about.

  “What are you doing here, Bree?” he asked while twisting his shirt in his hands. His expression appeared rigid, concerned as he studied me carefully through his long lashes. The crease in his brow deepened the longer I stood there, but I couldn’t find my voice.

  His rough, worried tone accentuated his intense stance and penetrating gaze, and it sent my world spinning. I’d seen him plenty of times in dress shirts and slacks, and even once while he wore a sweater and jeans. But nothing could’ve prepared me for what he’d look like without a shirt on. All the time spent imagining what hid beneath those shirts in class didn’t do shit, because the hard planes of his pecs, the clear definition of his abs, and the deep lines that ran inward on either hip—the ones that formed a prominent V leading beneath the waistband of his jeans—made my mental picture of him seem more like Popeye before the can of spinach. Whereas, seeing him with my own two eyes, in the flesh, right in front of me, he was definitely the sailorman post-greens.

  “Bree…” His voice broke the spell enough to catch my attention. “Is everything okay? Are you all right? What are you doing here?” he asked as he took guarded steps in my direction.

  I shook my head, needing to dispel the images his half-naked body projected in my mind, and directed my sight to the grass below my feet. “I’m fine, Axel. I’m just taken off guard. I didn’t know you lived here.” I glanced back up, sensing how close he’d gotten. “I was in my back yard reading when—what I’m assuming is—your dog came over. I just wanted to make sure she got back home safely. I swear, I didn’t know this was your house.”

  His shoulders dropped as he released a ragged breath. “You scared the shit out of me,” he said with a shaky laugh. “Lassie likes to wander around in the trees sometimes when I’m working in the yard. I thought I heard her come back, and then I saw you, and my mind… I guess I thought the worst and panicked a little.”

  I tried to smile, hoping it would ease the heart-pounding tension that now seemed to encompass us both. “It’s okay. I’ve got to say, seeing you kind of freaked me out a little, too. I wasn’t expecting to run into you in my own back yard—well, your back yard. You know what I mean.” My words became jumbled as I tried to explain, my waning insecurity coming back tenfold.

  We’d managed to be at ease around one another for two weeks, talk about almost anything, laugh at everything, and not once did either of us act as if we shared airspace with Dumbo. Yet, for some reason, standing together in the open, away from the protection of school with no witnesses, we acted more like perfect strangers instead of friends. Our eyes failed to hold the other’s, our smiles faltered, and our chuckles came out forced and uneasy. Our feet shuffled nervously in the grass, and neither of us seemed to know what to do with our hands. This was certainly new, and I didn’t know how to handle it.

  “I told you I live close to you. Your house is on my way home from the school. I wasn’t lying about that. It wasn’t a made-up excuse to see you or anything.”

  “Yeah, but living close to me could be a mile or so away…that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re right outside my back door. It doesn’t even insinuate you’re in walking distance from me. You knew this whole time that we live, what…five, six houses away from each other, yet you never told me?”

  He appeared to be put off by my attitude because his line of sight danced around the trees behind me, never settling on my face. “Yes, but I don’t understand why you’re so upset about it.” Finally, he took a deep breath and scrutinized me with his intense stare, making me feel as though a heat wave had blasted through my body, despite the sixty-degree weather and cool breeze. “I didn’t want to make it seem like an invitation to stop by, because that would be completely inappropriate. I understand I came to your house when you were sick, but I’ve since realized how wrong that was. And I swore I wouldn’t do it again—unless it’s absolutely needed. Unless you’re in trouble and need me to come. Other than that, I have no business at your house, and you have no business at mine. What good would it do for me to tell you where I live? Why would I need to tell you that?”

  Axel had always been really good about not making me feel rejected, even when rejecting me. He had a way of wording things to ease the blow, and I was fine with that. I understood our friendship, and I never expected anything beyond it. I’d always kept our conversations clean, free of anything remotely close to indecent topics. So his explanation sent a hard punch to my chest, knocking the wind out of me. It hurt, stung, and the pain rippled through me until it morphed into anger. The anger bubbled, boiling into rage, which left my face heated from the fire it ignited within me.

  “Gee, I don’t know, Mr. Taylor.” I spread my arms wide, throwing every ounce of fury into my words and enunciating it with my body language. “Maybe so something like this wouldn’t happen? Had I known that over the river and through the woods, to Axel Taylor’s house I go…I wouldn’t have made the trip! But I’m glad I know how you really feel. This was a good thing—me stumbling over here like this. Because now I know that you see me as…what, Axel? A stalker? Some kid who’d randomly stop by your house and peek through the windows? Do you think of me as a peeping Tom? Or maybe you’re worried I’d come by when you’re not home and sneak inside to rifl
e through your underwear drawer and curl up in your bed. Fuck you.” I spun on my heel and took off toward the line of trees.

  “Aubrey! Wait!” He must’ve only taken three steps before reaching me, grabbing my upper arm and pulling me into his hard body. In the process of halting my escape, he managed to turn me around so that when I fell into him, my face slammed against his bare chest. His warm, sweaty, bare chest.

  I froze, unable to move or fight back. Somehow, my hands ended up on his sides, just above the waistband of his jeans. The fingers of one hand remained wrapped around my upper arm while the others cautiously caressed my back. I could hear the harsh, angry beats of his heart through his chest, thumping against my ear like heavy bass through a speaker. Or was that the sound of my own heartbeat deafening me?

  “Bree…that’s not what I meant.”

  He moved his hand from my upper back to the side of my face, threading his long fingers through the strands of hair next to my ear. He kept it there for a beat before using that hold to pull my head away, angling it until we were face to face. His eyes clouded over with an intense darkness, and even though I wanted to look away, I couldn’t. The usually bright-blue color came to life with a hypnotizing depth, holding me hostage and defenseless against it. I became instantly powerless to stop the hold his fierce stare had over me.

  “You’re taking my words out of context. You know I don’t think those things about you. If I did, would I continue talking to you every night? No. If I thought, even for a second, that befriending you would be hazardous to my safety or dangerous to either of us, I would have never started this to begin with. I didn’t tell you where I live for several reasons, but none of them are even close to your assumptions.”

  I skimmed my hands over his sides and up his front, pressing them flat to the center of his solid, hairless chest. His skin reminded me of a layer of silk over hard rock. This was definitely not a boy’s body. It belonged to a man.

  That one move offered me some distance from him. It put a barrier between us. Even if my small hands were no match against his strength, it still gave me a tiny sense of security. In a span of two minutes, my only friend had managed to flip my entire world upside down, leaving me with the worst case of vertigo.

  “But you said I have no business at your house…”

  “Yes,” he said softly, punctuating his one word with a slow nod. “I said that because it’s true. It wasn’t meant to be mean.”

  I swallowed and attempted to lower my gaze, needing to break eye contact, but he wouldn’t allow it, tipping my chin up with a finger. “You said you had several reasons. What are they? If that’s not what you meant, then tell me why.” My voice was quiet but strong, unwavering in my demand for answers.

  He blinked a few times. Dark lashes that would make any woman jealous rested on his cheeks before reaching his eyebrows again. When he exhaled, his warm breath fluttered across my face, reminding me of a summer’s breeze. Then, once he seemed composed enough to continue, his eyes met mine again. This time, instead of fierce intensity, they grew troubled. He seemed sad, or possibly distraught. Guarded even. Panic filled me as I watched him struggle for words. Tingling fear that started in my toes, worked its way up my body until my hands shook against his chest and unshed tears stabbed the backs of my eyes.

  “Bree…”

  “Just get it over with, Axel,” I begged, my chest heaving with short pants, none deep enough to fill my lungs properly. My head began to spin, and the metallic taste on my tongue warned me of an impending blackout if my brain didn’t receive oxygen soon. “Stop beating around the bush and spit it out. You can’t possibly hurt me more than you already have, so stop trying to protect me and just fucking say it.”

  “I’m not trying to protect you. I’m trying to protect myself.” His words came out rough and scratchy, yet filled with air. They sounded desperate, heavy with emotion that I couldn’t comprehend. “And maybe I’m also protecting you, but not the way you think.”

  The lack of oxygen to my brain must’ve been worse than I originally thought, because in the blink of an eye, my hands had gone from his chest, where they kept him at a distance, to his face, cupping his unshaven cheeks and pulling him closer to me. So close that every breath he took put pressure on my breasts.

  “Tell me,” I whispered desperately.

  He lowered his forehead to mine and opened his mouth to speak.

  “You told me weeks ago about how I confused you. You explained how easy it is for girls to become attached to someone who shows them affection. Remember that? And we agreed to keep it simple, to not blur the details of our friendship. The smart thing to do would be to put distance between us and keep our relationship strictly professional. I’d remain the teacher and nothing more, and you would be no different than any other student in my class. I’d still be there for you if you needed me. If things at home got out of hand, if you got hurt or your mom crossed a line again. I’d still make myself available to you for those reasons, and those reasons alone. Not to chat with at night before bed. Not to leave funny jokes on my desk or talk about what you made for dinner.”

  I closed my eyes and braced myself for the fallout of my only friendship.

  “But I can’t do that. I’ve thought about it, I won’t lie. I know that’s the safest decision, the smartest thing to do. But I can’t. I look forward to your calls, your texts. The highlight of my day is first thing in the morning before the bell rings when I get five minutes with you. I genuinely enjoy our conversations and feel like I can talk about anything with you. Maybe I’m being selfish, but I don’t want to give that up.”

  I pulled my head away, breaking the contact of our foreheads so I could look him in the eye. “I don’t understand then. You’re not making a bit of sense to me. This doesn’t answer why you wouldn’t tell me that we’re neighbors.”

  His hands dropped to his sides, releasing his hold on me, so I dropped mine, too. I felt like a fish out of water, my emotions flopping around, not knowing what to do or say. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I crossed them over my chest, even though I wasn’t cold. I didn’t know what to look at, but I couldn’t find it within me to break our stare. Confusion like I’d never felt before consumed me, leaving me silently pleading for answers, because what he said sounded a lot like he had feelings for me that went beyond the friendly kind we’d agreed upon. But I wouldn’t allow my mind to go there without his verbal confirmation. And I had no idea how I’d feel either way.

  “Bree, when you call, I answer. When you text, I respond. When you walk into my classroom, everything else stops until that bell rings. Don’t you see? If I’d told you where I live, and you happened to stop by—be it out of boredom or just to say hi—I wouldn’t be able to stop you. I wouldn’t be able to turn you away. And what would happen if someone saw you here? I’m sure our neighbors know your age, and they can guess mine. What do you think they’d do? Because I can bet they’d go to your mom and let her know that her sixteen-year-old daughter was at a twenty-something-year-old man’s house. I’m a big boy. I can handle her on my own. Things might get shitty for me, but we’ve done nothing wrong, so I can deal with her.

  “But what about you? I don’t even want to think about what she’d do to you. I’ve seen the aftermath from the last time she was angry with you—and that was because of a melted ice cube on the floor! You’ve already told me how she suspects things involving you and guys. And that’s with no evidence to support her theories. She’d lose her freaking mind if she actually had something to go on, such as you at my house. So, I didn’t tell you, because I knew I would invite you in if you ever came by. I wouldn’t have the strength to turn you away. And knowing that, I didn’t want to chance you having to deal with the fallout of my weakness.”

  “I wouldn’t have stopped by. I’m only here because your dog found me reading behind my house. Had I known she was your dog, or that this was your house, I would’ve stayed behind the tree line and gone back home once I knew sh
e was back where she belonged.” I drew in a lungful of cool air and stepped back, giving him some space.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or cause any of this.”

  “It’s fine. I get it. This whole thing sucks because it could’ve been avoided, but I get it. Thank you for telling me the truth. I promise I won’t come back. You don’t have to worry about me showing up, or the neighbors assuming things. But really, Axel, if you want to keep the gossip down, I suggest you put your shirt back on. That”—I waved my hand in front of his perfectly chiseled body—“is like begging for old housewives to talk. I’m sure there are a few of them perched by their windows now, just enjoying the view.” I released a giggle the moment his smile appeared. And just like that, the easy banter returned as if the last five minutes never happened.

  “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” He took a few steps and bent down to retrieve his discarded shirt. Throughout the commotion, I never even saw him drop it. But he picked it up and slid it on, pulling the long sleeves back down to cover his arms. “Better?” he asked with his arms out beside him and a crooked smirk on his face.

  “Much. Nobody needs to see what’s under there.”

  “Why?”

  I tried to suppress a smirk, but failed miserably. “Because I’m sure the divorce rate will skyrocket around here. Women will use you as an example to their husbands, telling them they need to get off their lazy asses and work out more. The husbands will turn around and tell them that they nag too much, and the sound of their voice makes them want to stab themselves in the eardrum with an unsharpened pencil. Fights will ensue, glass will get broken, cops will be called for domestic disturbances, and it’ll all be your fault.”