Falling by Design

by Lind, Valia

  I open my eyes to find the TV blaring, a talk show host going on about the latest celebrity outfit disaster. Grayson's face is inches from mine. Sometime during the night, after we fell asleep, I ended up sprawled on top of him with his arms holding me close.

  I study him for a second, the perfect curve of his lips, the strong chin, the peaceful expression on his face. I wish I could freeze this moment, the simplicity of early morning, the waking up in the arms of a beautiful boy. But I can't. The second I realize where my thoughts are heading, I reel myself back.

  I struggle to disentangle myself from Grayson without waking him up, finally making it to the other side of the couch. I sit there for a second, thinking. He stayed with me all night when I didn't even ask. I know it's foolish to keep saying I don't feel anything for him, but it's better than the truth. When we finish our project, he'll get accepted to the photography school of his choice and I'll, hopefully, get out of this place and pursue my own dreams. And where will it leave us? We're too different, our futures too far apart.

  I leave him sleeping and head for the kitchen to make coffee. I wonder if he loves coffee as much as I do. I mean, I think he does. He brings me coffee from Starbucks but I'm not quite sure what’s in his cup.

  My mind races while the coffee finishes brewing. Maybe he hates it. Maybe he goes there just for me. He does little things to make me feel special, remembers little tidbits of me because he pays attention when I don’t think he’s looking. It terrifies me. It terrifies me because if I let him in, eventually, I will disappoint him and he will walk away.

  That is my biggest fear, put into words. If I allow myself to fall for Grayson, he'll break my heart. He'll leave, take a piece of me with him, and I'll never be the same. We have to finish this project. I have to believe he just brings me coffee because we’re friends, because we’re helping each other get out of this town. I cannot romanticize this into a fairy tale ending. So I fill two mugs and head back to the living room with quiet conviction.

  Grayson sits up when I walk in. Through half opened eyes he seems to be gauging my reaction to him still being there.

  "Good morning," he says finally, as if afraid he'll spook me.

  "Good morning!" I go for bright and cheerful, handing him the cup. "I hope you like coffee. I think you do, right? Because that's what you drink from Starbucks, right? You never know, they have those chai's and stuff. But I love coffee, because it's a bit of a necessity in my life."

  "A separate food group?" Grayson interrupts and I nod, plopping into the chair across from him. So he does like coffee. Good to know.

  It's a bit chilly so I wrap my hands around the mug and let the warmth surround me. I take a sip, shivering as it warms me from the inside out. "Heaven in a cup?" Grayson offers and I can't help but laugh.

  "Both of those are accurate descriptions." I watch the liquid swish in my cup. I want to say more, to thank him for staying, but can't seem to get the words out.

  "Brooklynn—"

  "Actually, what time is it?" I interrupt before he can get anything else out. "I have to work today. I should probably get ready."

  "Did you want me to come over after? Did you need any more help cutting patterns?" His question is coupled with hope. Who volunteers to spend their time cutting patterns?

  "No, I think we're good. I just have to finish the skirt and the two accessories for the last outfit we worked on and we should be ready to do a run through. Dakota and Chance are still up for helping out so we can probably do that sometime next week?"

  "Sound good to me." Grayson stands then, slowly making his way toward me. "If you need anything, you have my number. I can come over later..."

  "You don't have to. Thank you for staying last night. I really appreciate it." I jump to my feet.

  "What's going on, Brooklynn?"

  "Nothing is going on. I just need to get ready for work."

  "You have time. The store doesn't open until eleven."

  "Umm, I have to go through the inventory before we open."

  "You did that yesterday."

  My eyes dart to his. "Well, I have to do it again today."

  He stops in front of me, his body close enough that I can feel the heat of him around me. Grayson leans forward, one of his hands reaching out to cup my cheek. The contrast of his rough skin against my soft one is a sweet pleasure I didn’t know I was missing.

  His breath mingles with my own, the intensity of his gaze making me warm all over. I lick my lips. Grayson's gaze flickers to the small movement for a second before flying back to me. What I see there makes my heart clutch, stealing my breath away.

  "I, I really need to go."

  "You can't run."

  "I'm not running," I fight to keep my voice steady, "I have responsibilities, a job. I have to—"

  "Why do you always do this?" Grayson exclaims, dropping his hand. He runs it through his hair, the desperation radiating off him in waves. "Why do you always take two steps back when I feel like we've taken a step forward?"

  "I don't know what you mean." I have to stay in control. I can't let Grayson see how he affects me, even though he probably already does.

  "You know exactly what I mean!" He turns back to face me. "When I feel like I've finally broken through all those walls you've put up, I hit another one."

  "I didn't build those walls without help now did I?" My anger is rising to meet his own. I use the one weapon in my arsenal that I know will be effective, the one that will cause the proper amount of damage. I see the moment my words register and all at once, wish I could take them back.

  "I was a kid, I was—"

  "You knew exactly what you were doing when you tripped me up the stairs or hid my books or humiliated me in front of the whole school. You knew exactly how embarrassing it would be for me to walk into a room full of people who were laughing at me. Don't tell me you were a kid and you didn't know any better. I was tormented by you, Grayson! I need some...I need some time to get over that!"

  The words pour out of me before I can stop them. The memories of that fateful day come rushing back as if it happened only yesterday.

  I promised myself I wouldn't cry. The stricken look in Grayson's eyes is enough to bring me to my knees, but I will not feel sorry for him. I will not feel sorry for myself either.

  We stand like that for what seems like forever, until Grayson moves toward me one more time.

  "I know I've said I was sorry, but I know sorry will never right the wrongs between us. You're right, I knew exactly what I was doing when I did all those things to you. But I never meant to hurt you."

  "But you did."

  "Yes, and I will always regret the way I acted. Even as, in my puny thirteen year old mind, I was acting out of good intentions. But you’re never going to let this go, are you?" He sounds so dejected. I want to say that’s not true, but what if it is. What if this memory is the only wall I have left, protecting me from falling head first into all that is Grayson.

  “I guess I will never really know the answers to the questions in my mind.”

  His words baffle me, seeming to come from the secret parts of his person, almost as if I’m not even meant to hear them. He walks over to where he left his wallet and keys. I stand frozen as he moves past me toward the door. I have no idea how to ask the questions that are rising up in me. I don't know what else to say. I feel him stop behind me, the heaviness of his gaze like a physical weight on my shoulders.

  "Brooklynn, I want you to know that I," he stops for a second and I turn to watch him struggle to find the right words, "I'm not the same. Sometimes I feel like you know that. Things change, Brooklynn. I care about you, and one day, I hope I can prove it to you." Then without giving me a chance to reply, he walks out the front door. I lean against the table, letting the emotions over take me. He's right, of course, I do believe him, but the part of me that's petrified of getting hurt keeps pushing him away.

  I run my hand over my cheek where I can still feel Grayson's touch. He kno
ws I'm a mess, the baggage of my insecurities so blatantly on display I don't know how anyone can miss it. But to protect myself from what could be, I'm letting Grayson walk out of that door without setting anything right.

  If I keep pushing him away, how long before he doesn’t come back?

  TWENTY - NINE

  Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes.

  - Jack Handey

  I can't keep my mind on work today.

  The conversation from this morning keeps running through my mind like a broken record. Dakota called earlier and I filled her in, hoping she'd tell me I didn't mess everything up. Of course she didn't.

  "Brooklynn, you have got to stop that. Obviously, he's crazy about you."

  "No, Dakota, he cares about me. He cares about this project. I just need it to be alright between us because I cannot imagine doing any of this without him."

  "Honey, I love you, but you're being stupid."

  "Ugh, I know." We hung up and I contemplated walking over to the back of the store and smacking my head against the wall. I went through the whole day lost in my own thought. Even my aunt commented on my lack of enthusiasm.

  Now, I'm standing behind the counter, rechecking the books for the week, when the store bell rings. I look up to find Grayson striding toward me with purpose. My heart speeds up at seeing his gorgeous face and I try for casual when I greet him.

  "No time for hello's. I have an idea." I notice the excitement in his eyes, the adrenaline pumping through him and for a second I worry he's going to start bouncing off the walls.

  "Umm, okay?"

  "We should do a fashion show."

  "Come again?" I must have heard him wrong.

  "I'm serious. The designs that you've created, the clothing you’ve had stashed in the back of your closet, all the themes we've put together, we should make a show out of it. We can invite a bunch of people, show off your awesome design skills and my photography and get some points on our resume. Putting on something like that would show colleges we have organization, ambition, and determination. We can do this!" He sounds like he memorized that last part, but I'm not about to call him out on it. I'm too surprised.

  "We can't do a fashion show." It’s the only thing I can say after Grayson runs out of breath. He's watching me like a kid watches candy he knows he can’t have.

  "We just need to find a place and a sponsor. You know, someone who's willing to sign some forms." His voice gets louder with every word. "Someone who would enjoy the exposure we may bring to a place, like a store maybe? We can—"

  "Hand over the forms, boy," Aunt Evie interrupts, coming out of the side of the store. "I'll sign them."

  "See, we have a sponsor!" He’s literally bouncing up and down.

  "Sneaky," I state, rolling my eyes. "But I'm still not sure about this."

  "Brooklynn," Grayson begins, his eyes piercing through me. "You know it's a great idea. I know how you feel about sharing your work with the world, but I think you're ready. Together, we can do this."

  The look in his eyes, the determination and excitement, are hard not to respond to. But what gets me more is the fact that he's doing this for me as much as himself. Even after this morning, he still wants to push me to be my best.

  "Grayson, about this morning—"

  "No, we don't need to talk about it right now. I realized once I left, and calmed down a bit, that I wasn't being fair to either one of us. I had expectations for you the same way you had them for me. No, let me finish," he says when I open my mouth to speak. "While my expectations may be different from yours, they're still not fair. I decided that I wanted to be your friend and I would try and start over.” He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts, before continuing on.

  "Hi," he says putting out his hand for a shake, "I'm Grayson and I think you're an amazing artist that deserves to have her work seen. Nice to meet you." He waits for me to take his hand, encouraging me with a small nod.

  "Hi, I'm Brooklynn," I state. "I think you're a wonderful person that deserves to be given a second chance. Nice to meet you too." I giggle. My aunt grumbles something about insufferable teenagers as she walks past us and we burst out laughing.

  "I don't think she likes me very much," Grayson comments when Aunt Evie disappears in the back. The small routine of introductions have seemed to lift a weight off both of our shoulders.

  "Don't take it personally. She doesn't like most people."

  "Isn't that a problem for someone running a store?" He follows me as I make my way to one of the displays, carrying a box of accessories he picks up from the counter.

  "You'd think. But she's fine when people come in. It's everyone else who is not a paying customer." We fall into our routine, with Grayson handing me items while I arrange them on display as we talk. This has become like second nature to us in the last few weeks.

  "Have you talked to Mr. Blooms about organizing the picnic for the families yet?"

  Besides helping out at the shelter, Grayson volunteers as an activity director under Mr. Blooms at the community center. They roped me into helping with some ideas for family activities, so Grayson and I threw out a picnic as an idea. That can be a hit or miss in Arizona. They’d have to really make it stand out.

  "No, it was your idea. You should be the one to talk to him." Grayson hands me a hanger, as I pull out yet another shirt from the box."He listens to you."

  "Whatever. You guys have this whole bromance thing going. Any more time spent together and you'll be finishing each other sentences."

  "Oh you mean like Chance and you?"

  "Shut up." I crack up at his look. He's been making comments about Chance and I since he got back. Grayson knows Chance is crazy about Dakota and yet, he never stops making digs about our relationship. "You're just jealous."

  "You're right." When he says it, he sounds like he means it. I sneak a glance at him through one of the shelves and find him staring off into the distance. I don't think he even realizes he said it out loud. Do I mention it? Do I let it go? What am I doing? I’m freaking out again, that’s what. Dakota is going to hurt me if I don't pull myself together. Yet, I don't know what to say, so I don't comment, pretending I didn't hear him at all.

  A few customers come in and I leave Grayson to go greet them and make sure they don't need any help. A couple of ladies are beyond excited about finding a few vintage vests and chatter happily. It's another twenty minutes before I make my way back to Grayson.

  "They are a lively bunch," he says, looking up from the book he's reading. "That's going to be you and Dakota in like seventy years."

  "Ha. I'm sure Dakota would agree." I move some papers off the table, shifting the clothes so I can fold them for display when I realize what Grayson is reading.

  "Hey!" I shout grabbing for my art journal. He dodges me with expertise, laughing as he goes. "Give that back."

  "Sorry, this is just so interesting. 'A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle,' and 'If you wonder where your child left his roller skates, try walking around the house in the dark.' Have you heard this one? 'I dream of a better tomorrow, where chickens can cross the road and not be questioned about their motives'."

  "You like quotes?"

  "Collect them actually. Especially ones that go with my pictures. I don't draw them out or paint pages, but I do have a file on my computer where I save all the funny or interesting quotes I come across." He says it matter of fact, as if it's a normal part of life, and all I can do is gape at him. Just another item I can add to my ever growing list of positive attributes when it comes to Grayson. Great. It means nothing, I tell myself, so what if he seems perfect on paper. Life is not perfect and if I let myself feel anything for him, it will not turn out well.

  That's it. How many times am I going to lie to myself? I'm officially losing my mind. I'm way beyond not feeling anything. The frustration I feel for myself, for t
he whole situation, threatens to come out and I know I have to distance myself before I do something stupid. Again.

  Grayson is watching me, as if waiting for me to make some kind of a decision. I ask for the journal and he places it in my hands. I turn without a word, sticking the book back under the counter, before focusing on Grayson. But he's already moving.

  "I'll see you later, Brooklynn," he says with a wave, walking out of the shop. Groaning aloud, I dump my face into my hands. I'm messing everything up. I can't be just friends with Grayson because I'm already way deeper in like with him than I've ever been with a boy. But my neurotic behavior is probably going to send him packing at any moment and where will I be then?

  No, I promised myself this morning that I will be the best kind of a friend to Grayson. I cannot mess this partnership up and I'll just have to try harder. I'm no longer just thinking of myself here. Grayson needs this project as much as I do.

  Later that evening when I get home, I'm surprised to find him parked in front of my house.

  "What are you doing here?" I ask getting out, suddenly self-conscious for no apparent reason.

  "Staying here."

  "Why?"

  "Because I'm not leaving you in the house alone." There is no room for argument in the statement and I’m actually glad to see him, so I lead us inside. We settle into a routine, preparing for bed as we make small talk. I offer him one of the bedrooms but we both know we'll be sleeping on the couch again. I make us a snack while Grayson picks a movie, my body flushed at the prospect of spending another night with him nearby. Chance and I often have movie nights such as this, but it feels different. Everything around Grayson feels different. But I can't let him out of the friend zone. I can't.

  Regardless of what my heart is telling me.

  THIRTY

  I don't actually know how to pronounce half the words in my vocabulary because I only read and type them. - Author Unknown

  Grayson is driving me crazy.

  He spent the whole weekend with me and we talked about everything under the sun, except the growing tension between us. When I told Dakota all of this, she said, after she was finished squealing, that he obviously has it bad for me. However, I'm not so sure anymore.