How I Fall

by Anne Eliot

  “Oi!! Oi! Oi!” An over-loud voice with an accent takes over the air space. “Oiiiii! Boy-o!”

  I open my eyes. Before I can focus, the girl I’m pretty sure I want to kill is standing in front of me with her arm looped through the girl who kills me. To keep my heart from exploding, I keep my eyes off Ellen so I don’t do something stupid and focus on Laura London’s animated face until I calm down a bit, but I can’t even stay annoyed with her because she’s so…

  Entertaining. Plan wrecking. Glitter covered. And Irish.

  She’s also grinning as though she’s extra delighted to have found me—like she expected to find me here!

  “Hullo Mr. Handsome Scotsman.”

  I cringe-squint into something resembling a welcoming nod plus a smile, trying to keep my eyes up high and off the flashes of the hideous rainbow skirt that’s trying to blind me from below. “What’s up?”

  The locker prevents any possible escape as the madwoman drags Ellen forward. I can already tell by not looking at the skirt, that it seems twice as huge and twice as bright under the halogen lights as it did earlier this morning. I risk a glance past the waving paper, taking in Ellen’s sharpie-black braid framing her pale-moon face to assess if she needs an ambulance or some sort of rescue. But, as I shoot a tentative ‘please-don’t-hate-me’ smile into her wide, shuttered black eyes, I get that all the rainbows brought into this crazy world by the new girl have shifted. As in, her whole outfit has shifted onto Ellen Foster!

  It’s all I can do to keep a straight face. I actually have to physically work hard to force my brows from shooting off my head. Ellen is the one wearing the insane rainbow skirt now! And worse, Laura’s sporting an entire outfit of black and orange-striped Lake Huron Tigers school spirit gear. Top to bottom! Including tight, tiger leggings and the ridiculous tiger beanie with the giant wiggle-eyes glued on the front! All items you can purchase in the front office. All items that are slightly creepy and shiny and that no one would be caught dead wearing.

  Ellen gets my realization, and she’s suddenly cringing. And, because quite frankly I feel dizzy from gaping between the two of them, I pull my gaze away from both of their outfits, vowing to look at their faces only.

  Only…Ellen’s face now says she wants to be anywhere but right here. My heart plummets.

  Is that look because I’m here?

  Or because the new girl has been holding Ellen hostage somehow and she’s trying to signal me?

  Laura, out of nowhere, whacks me in the arm with the school newspaper, but this time I swear some glitter has shot off the end of it somehow. “Did you come to check on our wee-Ellen as well, then? So did I! Brilliant minds, always thinking alike!” She grins. “Didn’t I say he’d come check on you, Ellen? Didn’t I?”

  My gaze catches Ellen’s big, shock-round eyes again before she lowers her lids to stare at the ground. Her lashes look like winged half moons brushing the tops of her now, very bright red cheeks. I have this quick thought about how those lashes and the heat off her rosy cheeks might feel against my thumb when she flips her lids back up and catches me staring.

  My face gets stuck in one of those freeze and blink smiles. If she weren’t watching I’d smack my own head to see if I could feel any pain. I don’t even know myself right now!

  Who randomly thinks about stuff like—eyelashes!

  Freaks, that’s who.

  Time, or the beats inside my chest, freeze everything even more when she smiles back. Her eyes scan my face, probably looking for signs of life or intelligence (both things long gone) and I lose track of myself even more. Because—damn—does she have pretty eyes. Then, I get this idea that Ellen’s sort of staring at my eyes, too. That, or we’re having one of those deer-in-headlights moments. Each wondering which one of us is about to get taken out or harmed in some way by the glitter-encrusted, tiger-striped Irish girl.

  Laura clears her throat because we’ve just created this really long awkward silence then saves me by speaking slowly while making this funny disapproving face. “I asked you, young Camden Campbell. Did you come to check on our wee-little Ellen, then? As you can see I’ve been working hard to make sure she’s all warm and dry.” She turns to Ellen, beaming. “Aren’t you, now?”

  Ellen pulls herself out of Laura’s grip and crosses her arms as though she’s holding back from throwing punches. “Mhmm. All good.”

  I nod, my eyes still stuck on Ellen’s, but finally burst out with, “I’m glad you’re warm. And dry. And—I’ve never seen you so—colorful.” I raise a brow and tilt my head toward her bright skirt, and then quickly stare up like the ceiling is so fascinating.

  OH. GREAT. What did I just say? I think I said ‘glad’ which is what old ladies say, and ended with colorful? Which was bad…really bad. Shoot me with a memory erasing tranquilizer dart.

  Shoot her with a memory erasing tranquilizer dart.

  When I glance back at Ellen, she doesn’t seem too alarmed. Luckily, Laura skips forward, temporarily blocking Ellen from the part where I go from self-loathing to the part where I desperately wish to die. Oblivious to my pain, she smiles up at me. “I made Ellen trade clothes, because all morning I was worried about her being cold. As I’m sure you also were. Right?” She blinks at me and then coughs, like she’s trying to help me out.

  Recovering a little, I choke out some truth. “Yeah. Honestly. I was worried.”

  Ellen sighs. “I was fine. And I only traded clothes because Laura’s so—irresistible.” She finishes with a soft smile directed at Laura in a way that makes me see there is zero animosity, zero kidnapping and only friendship brewing between these two girls.

  Laura laughs back, beaming. “You’re not the first to say those words to me Miss Foster, but thanks.”

  “So why are you in the tiger-wear?” I note how she’s tied the tiger scarf to look like she’s wearing a puffy turtleneck because she’s tucked the ends into her tiger shirt. “Shouldn’t you be in Ellen’s clothes—not in this crazy whatever it is?” I glance at Ellen. “What the heck happened to you two?”

  Ellen crosses her arms tighter over her chest and bites back what looks like a smile.

  Laura answers, “It all started with Ellen’s stretch denim. It’s a wicked-cruel fabric, right?” She blinks up at me as if I can understand what she’s talking about and I blink back like I’m totally with her, as she goes on, “So, even though we are the same size, I couldn’t bloody squeeze myself into even one leg of the wet version. Instead, I got my foot stuck in the ankle for like five minutes because the jeans decided to pull a quick-shrink, right? I was falling all over the place! So we both realized Ellen probably couldn’t get them back on either and so—you know—to make up for getting Ellen into this predicament in the first place, I volunteered. Dashed up the hall in my skivvies, no less, and wound up with this tiger get-up as a free bonus!”

  “Volunteered for—what?” I frown, rubbing one finger against my temple because the headache Laura gave me this morning just returned in full.

  Ellen whispers, “She actually ran to the front office in underwear to beg for help.” Her lips twitch as she goes on, “Tinker Bell underwear. Small ones. I tried to chase her, but I was in a stall and she’d dashed out of the girl’s rest room door before I understood her plan. I caught up in time to hear the principal shouting.”

  “Oh, no. No she did not.” I blink, staring between them to see if they’re joking.

  “She did!” Ellen leans her weight on one of the lockers, lips twitching in a way that has my heart pounding.

  Laura rolls her eyes. “I still don’t see what caused the fuss. My underwear’s bigger than any swimsuit.”

  Ellen shakes her head. “Not a swimsuit from Canada, Miss International Scandal.”

  Laura tosses me a look like I should side with her, but I’ve already thought about eyelashes today.
I do not need to discuss swimsuit sizes out loud with two girls right now. Just…no. “I suppose you discovered running in hallways in skivvies during school hours is also not a Canadian-type thing?”

  Laura snorts. “So the nice principal man explained to me. All while he ducked behind the front desk and flung this whole tiger ensemble around the room! The school nurse practically tackled me in her sick-room after that. I had to get dressed extra fast all while the principal was yelling stuff through the door about how we all had to fill out some sort of formal report to clarify I was in my state-of-undress because of a snow accident and not because of the principal having any part of it! When I stepped out, he did this nervous duck-dance thing with his hands on his head the whole time while the nurse typed up the report.” Laura flings her hands up to the sides of her head to demonstrate.

  I jump aside to avoid more glitter fall out, biting my lip as Laura executes this amazing Irish hard shoe jig all while keeping her face in the most perfect principal’s face imitation I’ve ever seen, as she adds, “And then we all had to sign the paper. Even Ellen!”

  “I had to be second witness.” Ellen’s voice is extra-light and her eyes have become so wide and sparkling with what I think is unshed laughter from watching Laura. My stomach does one of those flips. I wonder down to my core what it would take to make that laughter spill over.

  “I’m sure they’ll call both your parents,” I say solemnly. “I had to sign as second witness last year when Tanner thought it would be a good idea to streak the football field in his smiling pumpkin boxers. Remember how that incident made the town paper? Let’s hope yours doesn’t make the cut.”

  “No.” Laura gasps. “Really?”

  Ellen nods. “Our town paper is so stretched for news it reports on stuff like ladybug counts and daffodil season. Our high school shenanigans always make front page. My mom’s going to love this story even if it does go town-viral.”

  I shake my head. “You’re lucky. My parents would have zero sense of humor about it. They don’t want any marks on my transcript that aren’t perfect gold stars. Naked in the front office would get me grounded for life.”

  Laura puffs out enough air to make her curly bangs fly straight up and a whole new hidden nest of micro-glitter rains down and settles like it belongs there among her freckles. “Well my mom’s not going to understand, considering it’s my first day here. She will find a way to add this to my poor-life-choices list. Hopefully my Auntie Judith will understand, but I’d feel terrible if I messed up all the strings she had to pull to get me in this school as a late starter. That principal was so stressed he even gave Ellen a free tiger beanie right along with me! I’m bound to be in trouble. Cam, do you think you could help me go back and do a proper apology just in case?”

  All I want to do is to run from this odd creature, but the admiring smile Ellen’s giving me forces me to say, “Sure. Yes. Of course.”

  “Here.” Ellen tosses me the black and yellow striped cap as though she’d been dying to get it out of her hands. “You can wear this for brownie points.”

  I catch it, but then I have to stand back as Laura starts twirling around in front of us while staring down at her outfit—reminding me of a dog trying to catch its own tail. “Don’t I just look like I fell out of a Glee pep rally, though? Lord but this outfit’s so cute!” Her eyes get even rounder as she stops and blinks at us, waiting for our answer.

  I only nod, and Ellen does the same. We share a sideways glance and I’m pretty sure we’re both deciding to lie to the girl should she press the point. Thankfully, Laura’s already Ping-Ponged on to her next topic.

  “Speaking of local papers!” Laura’s skipped back, peeling open the school paper and points to my photo on the front page. “Did you know that you might be famous, Mr. Cam Campbell of the all-star Provincial Quarterbacks? The principal even told me you just might make it to the USA for something called the NFL just like your also very famous David Beckham-like daddy.” She nods. “I know all about it, and him, and your amazing potential, thanks to the principal filling me in about your whole life story after I told him you and I were already best and fated friends!”

  I cringe a little because she’s so bizarre with the fate thing, and of course I hate being lumped into anything that involves me and my dad having a connection to each other. As for the part about Laura and me ever actually being any sort of real friends, I don’t want to hurt her feelings but I’m still pretty sure that’s not going to stick. I just don’t have room in my life for extra crazy people right now, so I only answer with a vague, “Oh. Yeah. Well…Mhmm.”

  Laura, unaware of our future friendship being on the rocks, is still staring down at the paper and blabbing away. “I’ve no clue about what being un-sackable means; but where I’m from this whole article reads like you’re sort of super-powered.” She chews on the edge of one of her curls. “Or…wait! Does this un-sackable word mean you’ve never shagged anyone in your life?” She wrinkles her brow then glances back up at me as though she makes perfect sense. “Which one is it, then Cam?”

  “Which…what?”

  “Are you a super-jock or a virgin or both?”

  I don’t answer because…I have no words. Yes, because Laura’s insane; but mostly because Ellen has finally laughed out loud! Her soft breathless peals wrap around my heart and stir some buried memory from my past that’s so strong I am instantly slammed with an unexpected, desperate craving to hear more.

  “Don’t be ashamed, Cam. Whatever your answer it’s a right proper trust-bubble we’re all in right now. Like a confessional. There will be no judging going on. Right, Ellen?”

  “Um…” Ellen shifts her feet like she’s hoping to make her own escape, but then her face transforms as more laughter erupts. Her smile widens—she’s crossed her arms over her chest even tighter because she is full-on belly laughing now! As she glances up through those long lashes of hers, I think I’m going to die. It’s my new life mission to try to make Ellen laugh again. Now. Tomorrow. And tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that. I shake my head with regret over the days I can never recover because I’d lost my nerve around her—reminding me to keep on going—to somehow make this, whatever it is, stick. I replace my fears of her rejection with determination to at least try for—for something.

  “Christ, Ireland!” I say, forcing my own laughter back so I can talk. “Sacking is a football term.”

  “Is the ball made of some type of fabric, then? Like burlap sacking?”

  I shake my head. “Who let you cross the border at the airport? Can I make a request for deportation?”

  “If it’s possible. I’d appreciate help with that as well. As much as I like you two, I didn’t ask to come here and a fast ticket home would be just what I’m hoping for,” Laura says.

  Ellen gasps and locks her arm back into Laura’s. “No. Never. This school has suddenly become so much more interesting in just a few short hours! We can’t let you go back so soon. Can we?”

  I grin at both of them. “It’s so true—we must keep her!”

  “Our new pet tiger!” Ellen laughs again, firing out a wink in my direction that makes my heart flip up to the top of my brain.

  So. Darn. Cute.

  Laura puts her hands on the spot where her tiger-striped leggings meet her tucked in, tiger-striped T-shirt. “Now who’s treating who like a pet!”

  I realize I owe the crazy Irish girl for any and all of my success right now. Maybe I judged our friendship possibilities too harshly. Maybe a new crazy person is just what I need. Besides, without her help as my comic relief, I’ll end up choking and dying in front of Ellen all over again. So, crazy or not, I need her.

  I blurt out, “Laura, say you’re in digi-photo class with us? And if you’re not, you’ve got five minutes to transfer! Say yes, or I’ll escort you back to Principal Wilson’s office to beg for the
switch right now.”

  “No need, laddie. I’m already signed on. Ellen suggested it back when we were scaring the principal half to death.”

  “I did.” Ellen nods.

  The warning bell that calls everyone in from outside and out of the cafeteria sounds out loud and long, startling the three of us to silence.

  cam

  As though Laura has no idea that bells mean you should head to your locker and then go to class, she wanders off to stand under the minuscule plastic bell box that’s hung on the ceiling of the hallway and points up, shouting, “What a noise that wee little cube can make!” Already a few kids have stopped to observe her in the insane combination of spirit-wear. A few are also pointing at Ellen decked out in the infamous rainbow skirt, too.

  I’d noticed that Ellen’s smile was wiped away by the bell, but now she looks positively panicked. She suddenly turns toward the wall of lockers, her face going completely pale as even more people trickle into the hallway from the direction of the lunch room. I see her eyeing the distance to the classroom down the hall and I sense she would like to somehow be way over there instead of over here. I frown, annoyed with myself that I didn’t think to predict this for her. I bet the hallway of zigzagging people with swinging bags and elbows all over the place must feel like a war zone to her.

  Should I try to walk with her…make myself some sort of human shield…offer her my arm? Will she deck me if I even try?

  “Campbell. Campbell!” Tanner Gold’s shouting from far down the hall. “Dude. Hold up. Where were you during lunch?”

  I look up and nod, but don’t answer.