How I Fall

by Anne Eliot

  When I wake, I’m disoriented because I’m not in my bed. Without moving an inch, I glance around. I’m still in the basement—we’re all still in the basement—and I’m still in my jeans and T-shirt from the night before. The storm that raged well past midnight is now completely silent. I wonder if it even happened—if I dreamed last night. But the lump of breathing warmth snuggled against me in a sleeping bag is not part of a dream!

  It’s Ellen—Ellen—and she’s lying flat on her stomach across my whole chest as though I’m some sort of human mattress. She’s got her cheek pressed against my collarbone, her head is snug up under my chin and she’s angled to the side in a way that has our hearts literally beating within inches of each other through our sleeping bags. She’s breathing deeply like she’s not going to wake up any time soon, so I risk moving my head to stare down at her. From the peaceful expression she’s sporting, I think I must make a comfortable pillow, and wow, she’s so cute with her mouth hanging slightly open.

  Her arms are out of the sleeping bag and tangled around either side of me and her long braid has come partially undone. Strands of her silky hair tangle all around both of us, with some of it lying across my face and neck, torturing me with its softness and that flowery shampoo smell I’ve grown to love. As my eyes adjust to the morning a bit more, I note that Patrick and Laura are each wrapped up in their own giant sleeping bags like individual sausages, but snuggled up how Ellen and I are, and seemingly very much together as well.

  I breathe in slowly and lower my head back onto the pillow afraid to disturb her.

  I know I’ve said it to myself, and even to Patrick once…but right now I feel it…feel it to my core that I’m truly in love with this girl. It’s possible I’ve always been in love with her, because this is no insta-love feeling. This is something deeper. Something that has changed me completely because I feel like if I suddenly couldn’t have this feeling anymore, I might actually slowly die.

  That has to be why no other girl has ever come close to capturing my attention. Not because I was too busy, and not because I didn’t want them to meet my crap, messed up, endlessly fighting parents, but because the other girls simply weren’t Ellen Foster.

  I smooth my cheek against her hair and sigh, thinking how this girl—this kind being—this artistic force—is actually my girlfriend.

  Right now, I know I could easily introduce her to my dad and it doesn’t feel scary, or impossible. It feels exactly right and it feels like it might be easy. This is because that conversation is going to be about me and her. Us.

  The rest of the world and the obstacles that were keeping us apart seem small and stupid compared to how strong I feel with my arms around her just like this.

  I place a soft kiss on the top of her head, and as though the universe wants to play a joke on me, or wants to test my resolve, just as I’m smoothing hair away from her gently flushed cheek and placing a whisper-quick kiss against that mouth twist at the edge of her lip that makes me insane, I look up and my mom is standing in front of the couch, arms crossed, her expression completely pissed off and of course, bewildered!

  I put my finger over my lips and shake my head, hoping she doesn’t start shouting and freaking everyone out.

  “You—you’re with—why are you with Ellen Foster?”

  “She’s my girlfriend, Mom.”

  Her eyes go to Patrick and Laura, widening with shock and now anger. Her voice gets louder as she keeps staring at the four of us. “You will meet me upstairs in five minutes. All of you. Five minutes.”

  She turns on her heel and stalks out of the basement. Everyone’s moving and waking up now.

  “What-who was that?” Ellen mutters.

  I hop up and away from Ellen and the others, heading toward the window to check the status of the storm. “Wake up and snow-suit up, you guys! Wait until you see the ice! It’s perfect!”

  Ellen opens her eyes, then like me, realizes where she is and who she’s with and what we’re all doing here.

  “So you know, I stole the smallest kiss,” I admit, walking back across the room. Her cheeks go completely red.

  “Give it back.”

  “Later. We have work to do.”

  “Stop.” Patrick groans. “I refuse to hear this disgusting cute chatter. It’s killing my manliness.”

  Laura laughs, but I can’t see her because Patrick piled five pillows on her as he stood.

  Ellen sits up and rubs the sleep from her eyes, breathing out just as she sees the view. “It’s perfect out there. And it’s already melting!”

  I grin, glancing at Patrick and Laura who are acting all awkward because unlike us, they’re pretending they do not want to kiss each other, but to me it seems pretty obvious that they do.

  I head to the stairs. “Come upstairs in exactly five minutes and make a lot of noise.”

  “What for?” Laura blinks twice, then shoves her hands into her eyes, rubbing them like a little kid.

  “My mom came down here and saw us all paired up—she’s pissed—and by the look on her face she’s not happy we slept together.”

  “We didn’t sleep together.” Ellen shakes her head.

  I smile. “I’ve never slept in the same room with a girl before, but technically—and based on my mom’s freaked out expression—we kind of did. The way she’s acting I have a lot of explaining to do.”

  “Yeah but we were just sleeping—not doing anything else!” She flushes double bright. “Right?”

  “And we’re not a pair!” Laura glowers at Patrick, who’s grinning happily as if he disagrees.

  “Oh, for bad timing.” Ellen glances between us all.

  “She saw me kiss you.”

  Ellen gasps. “Oh…no.”

  “It’s okay. I just have to say all the right things to my mom right now, so she can say all the right things to my dad when he gets back in town. Then he’s probably going to call Coach right away so…yeah I—we’ve—got to be solid, firm and committed.”

  Ellen’s eyes get as big as Laura’s. “But what are the right things to say? And I’m not sure we are all solid and firm and committed!”

  “We’re not?” I blink.

  Ellen’s gone completely pale and doesn’t answer.

  Laura giggles. “Oh, but he’s so cute all desperate and in love with you, Ellen. We’ll be up in three minutes, not five. Maybe don’t say too much at all…you know? Not without me to help? Your Ellen just got cold feet. She’s with you.”

  “Yeah, dude. Remember. Save the big stuff for after we are in the playoffs.”

  “She saw you cuddled up and Eskimo kissing with Laura. We just killed our own plan by falling asleep during the movie.”

  Laura punches him in the arm. “What in the bloody-ducks is an Eskimo kiss? How dare you take liberties with me!”

  Ellen laughs. “It means he was just really close to you. Nose to nose, that’s all.”

  Patrick stretches his arms high over his head. “Blame me if you want but that girl was nose to nose and all over me.”

  I go on, “Either way my mom just saw me kissing Ellen. At this point I think the full truth is going to be the best.”

  “Full truth? What would that be exactly?” Patrick raises a brow.

  I pause and shake my head, looking helplessly around the room and then almost desperately, I take one of Ellen’s hands. “I was hoping for a more romantic way to say this. I also pictured this would be said in private with candles, or out at the lake or…I don’t know, but— “I sigh, struggling to sort out my thoughts. “But before I go upstairs and say all of this to my mom. And since I’ve done everything else in the wrong order, here goes the part where I lay my heart at your feet.”

  “Oh, isn’t this going to be bloody good.” Laura giggles, sitting up all criss-cross like she’s wat
ching a TV show.

  I dart another glance at Patrick, then tighten my grip on Ellen’s hand so she’ll look up and meet my gaze. When she does I say, “I’m completely in love with you and I hope you’re going to be okay with that, because there is no way I can change my mind or take back one word or any second of how I feel, not to mention how I think I’m always going to feel about you. Are you with me?”

  “Wow. Okay…um…yeah.” Ellen smiles this amazingly wide smile and her eyes sparkle so bright that I can tell she’s happy and very much with me. She looks away, her cheeks twice as red as they were moments ago. “It’s good. I’m good with—you, us—all that. And I’ve got more to say about it. Much more.” She laughs nervously, looking up at me again and then her gaze skates to Patrick and Laura. “Later. When we’re alone.”

  “Deal.” I laugh out my relief and my own waves of pure happiness.

  “Thanks.” Patrick snorts. “I was getting queasy.”

  Laura clambers on her knees across the huge couch until she hops off, curls bouncing. “Cripes but that was absolutely the most adorable and romantic—but most awkward speech between two people—I’ve ever had the pleasure to see and hear in my entire life. What say you, Patrick? It’s a right sweet romantic love story going on right here…fated secret lovers torn apart by parents and football! Rules set up in the eighties before there were even laws that are about to be broken…for love.”

  I add, “Let’s not be too dramatic, Ireland. There’s going to be no more secrets and I’d never let stupid football tear us apart, that’s for sure.”

  Patrick’s gone from joke-gagging to white as a sheet. “Hold up. I thought we’d agreed to this thing being secret until we’d locked down the playoffs. What about the game?” His voice is escalating. “And Coach? And the team? And your dad? And our scholarship opportunities? And those recruiters coming over the border to watch us play?”

  “People already saw Ellen and me kiss at the bonfire.” I shake my head, staring at Ellen. “At this point, with my mom in the mix, I’m not keeping secrets anymore. Anything my mom creates in her fantasy-filled brain is going is to be way crazier than me just telling her Ellen and I are together. You should be fine, Patrick. You aren’t the one openly dating a girl.”

  Patrick glowers at Laura. “Well, I would be if she didn’t keep denying me.”

  Laura rolls her eyes. “What Cam said, my stubborn best friend. You’ve got no girlfriend in me and you’re wasting your time. I’ve sworn off all guys for life.”

  “Doesn’t mean I haven’t told everyone at our high school to stay away from you because I plan to go out with you.”

  “It’s a favor you’ve done for me then, because I’ve sworn to repel all men for the rest of my life and with your hulking-self lurking about and begging me for a second kiss, everyone’s sure to stay away from me.” She sighs sadly. “But like I told you last night—there will be no more kisses from the likes of me so you’re definitely wasting your time on this idea. I’m really, truly sorry that I asked you to kiss me that one time. I should have warned you I’ve been known to leave a lasting impression.” She blinks sincerely. “Will you ever forgive me for what I’ve done to your head?”

  Patrick is biting his lip, trying not to laugh. “Probably not. So…do the right thing. End my torture, make all my dreams come true and agree to marry me? I’m totally up for a very long engagement.”

  “Patrick!” Ellen throws a pillow and it lands right on Patrick’s face.

  “Cheeky. Ridiculous. Bugger.” Laura throws one as well. “Who asks a girl to wed without a proper ring?”

  Grinning at all of them, I go on. “If I’m lucky, I will get all of my dreams coming true in the same week. I get to hold Ellen Foster’s hand whenever I want, I’ll be kicked off the team and maybe I’ll never have to play football again.”

  “What?” Patrick gasps, ramping back into the situation. “But—but—if that happens—our team can’t win without you.”

  “And we can’t win without you.” I grin even wider. “So…hopefully before Laura’s ice cold heart melts and she agrees to go out with you, my dad and Coach will make some adjustments to their ridiculous rules.”

  “Speaking of ice!” Ellen’s standing now and walking slowly to the windows. “We’ve got to get outside.” She splays one hand against the glass like she wishes she could already touch the winter wonderland just on the other side. “There’s a photography contest to win out there.”

  ellen

  Cam and I drive ahead of Patrick and Laura who are walking slowly behind the Campbell golf cart. Very slowly. It’s as if we had all of the air knocked out of us back at Cam’s house.

  I can tell Cam can’t breathe as much as I can’t breathe.

  Hurts as much as I hurt.

  *Chants: People who work to bring you down are below you…people who work to bring you down are below you…*

  The pathways along the golf course leading to the willow grove beach are slightly icy and seem not too difficult to navigate even for me; but when I glance behind, I see that Patrick and Laura have stopped walking all together and are deep in discussion. I’m sure that discussion is about me. The way Laura’s got her hands on his arms, I can just bet Patrick wants to go back and throw rocks at Cam’s house. I also know they’re lagging behind so Cam and I can be alone some.

  I’m grateful for it. But I’m more grateful for the fact that Cam knows that sitting quietly is what I need right now after what went down in his kitchen.

  With his mom.

  *Chants: People who work to bring you down are below you…people who work to bring you down are below you…*

  His mom disapproves of us dating—more than disapproves. She hates the idea, rejected the idea and practically threw us all out of her house! I already know his dad is going to go even crazier.

  I’m sure Cam knows this, which is why he’s breathing so ragged right now and why his hands are gripping the steering wheel of the golf cart so tightly he looks like he’s about to snap it off.

  I haven’t said a word and neither has he…that’s because the conversation that has to happen right now is not going to be easy.

  It’s going to be about horrible truths and whether he and I are willing to fight for—fight for—us. This whole time, I’m holding silent because I’ve been wondering if it’s worth it. If this guy really loves me like he says when he hardly knows me, hardly knows what CP is about? What it does to me and my soul when someone attacks me how his own mom just did? If he can understand how CP is not me. How I don’t let it define me, but how it can sometimes take over like this strange uninvited monster? How CP becomes all that I am even though every breath I take stems from my soul working, fighting to fly away from the grip of it.

  Does he know how it feels—when I can’t…I can’t and I can’t get away from it?

  Can I ever trust him enough to know all of me? How much CP hurts—my limbs, yes but my soul sometimes hurts more. How scared I am all the time? If he knows that I’m constantly stuck in this strange war with myself is he going to eventually walk away from me? Like what Bella-Jane said, he’ll get tired, get bored, get sick of the extra work and thought that comes with hanging around with me. Me and my CP, that is.

  Can I afford to let down my guard enough to give him the chance? But after all that he’s said—how he’s laid his heart out for me, and everyone to see, how can I not? After I’ve seen and heard his wishes to stop football, how I now understand his mom—his house—how he lives frozen-silent between his mom and his dad and football?

  His sport as well as his family must feel like a prison to him. His photographs now make perfect, horrible sense to me. He and I…we’re the same. We’re both totally trapped by things that our out of our control. And after what I just witnessed, what I finally understand about him…I think having CP is way easier t
han having parents like his.

  My question is…can two trapped people help each other, or will they simply bring each other more heart ache? It’s really hard to help someone when you’re completely stuck yourself. And…maybe like me…maybe Cam doesn’t want any help at all.

  My stomach is still swirling with nerves. I also have the urge to cry but I know for a fact that is not going to help. It’s going to break Cam’s heart and if Patrick catches sight of one tear on my face he’ll go insane. He almost already did.

  When we all came into the kitchen dressed in jackets and ski pants to speak with Cam’s mom—with me, officially being named as Cam’s girlfriend—I thought things would be awkward, of course, but relatively okay. Instead, we were face to face with a frowning and disbelieving madwoman!

  I never expected her to shout at me the way she did.

  She was so loud, so in my face that it freaked me out. This, of course, caused the good old CP to fire into shut-down mode. That really sucked, because it’s difficult to hold a calm poker face when your arm starts spazzing away from your body and hovering into the air like it has its own helicopter motor inside of it.

  Luckily, Cam knew what to do. As all the blood rushed to my head and I went into feeble-wobble-shut-down mode, he came right over and stood with his arm around me, took my twitching arm around his back and let me lean all of the weight from my weak side on to him. This really helped my bad leg not to shake so much, and at least I didn’t fall down or stumble around as I was working to comprehend the cruel words flying out of Cam’s mother’s mouth.

  I remember Cam’s voice repeating over and over: “Mom. Deal with the facts. Ellen Foster and I will be going out no matter what you think or what you say. We’re leaving. We’ve got a project to do.”

  Mrs. Campbell kept repeating: “Cam Campbell, you are grounded! Grounded. Don’t you dare leave this house.”