Falling by Design

by Lind, Valia

  "Hi, Brooklynn," he mumbles.

  I move toward the bed. "Hi buddy, what is this sickness? If this is a plan to lure me back into your clutches, it's a little extreme." He giggles at my words, his little face lighting up against the harsh redness of his cheeks. Carefully, I settle beside him on the bed. After a moment, Noah scoots out of Grayson's arms a little to see me better.

  "You know, you could've just asked me to come over," I say.

  Noah leans closer to me, his face pulled in concentration, as he whispers, "Grayson wouldn't let me."

  "What?" I gasp, my hand flying to my chest in shock. "How dare he stand in the way!" The boy bursts out laughing and I can't help but glance up at his brother. Grayson is grinning at me as if I've hung the moon and the stars. "So what do you do for entertainment around here?" I ask, knowing the best cure for nightmares is distraction. Noah ducks his head a little, as if embarrassed, and I have to lean in to hear his answer.

  "Grayson tells me stories."

  "Stories? What kind of stories?"

  "Adventure stories. Like Indiana Jones. I like him a lot. He's brave and he fights stuff and he finds stuff too." I grin at the descriptions, settling a little bit more comfortably against the pillows. I wait as a coughing fit shakes his small shoulders, and after a moment he continues. "I've seen all the movies, even the new one. But I like the old ones better. Do you like the old ones better?"

  "Actually, I do." Noah's eyes light up even more and I feel like I just scored a huge point. He shifts a bit, so he's now more next to me than his brother.

  "Do you tell stories, Brooklynn?" He looks skinnier than the last time I saw him, his cheeks a lot more predominate.

  "As a matter of fact, I do. Would you like to hear one?" The nod couldn't come fast enough. My heart swells at the sight of his little excited face, and I scoot off the bed to grab my bag. "I'm going to tell you a story, but you're going to have to help me okay?" He agrees, almost bouncing on his bed. I pull out my sketchbook and pencils, before settling back against the headboard. Noah is next to me as fast as his little tired body can move. He snuggles under my arm while I open my book to a blank page.

  "Let me tell you about a little boy who went on a big adventure," I begin. My eyes drift to meet Grayson's sitting, on the other side of Noah. The intensity I find there is awe-spiring. Overwhelming. Breathtaking. I have to catch myself before I sigh out loud. Focusing on the little boy snuggled into my side, I return to my sketchbook.

  Maybe I'm catching the fever Noah has, because my skin is on fire. Everything around me blurs, but for the two boys beside me. I wrap one of my arms around Noah, as he burrows farther into my embrace. I try not to look at Grayson, but I can't seem to keep my gaze away. There are promises in his eyes and those promises are meant for me. I realize, not for the first time, that this boy, this Grayson is so different from what I've ever pictured him to be, I don't exactly know what to do with myself. The thoughts I've been entertaining don't seem appropriate or possible and yet as he watches me tell his brother a story, I can't help but think that they are and it's up to me.

  The ball is in my court.

  THIRTY - THREE

  A computer once beat me at chess, but it was no match for me at kickboxing.

  - Emo Phillips

  "You're amazing," Grayson states as we make our way down the stairs.

  Noah is fast asleep in his room, snuggled under the blankets, still clutching one of the pictures I drew for him. Dakota texted me about ten minutes ago, saying she's on her way and is beyond sorry, but she has dinner with family tonight so she has to come get me now. I don't mind, mostly. Noah fell asleep, snuggled to my side and it was hard enough untangling myself to leave. Now, Grayson's words wash over me, making me tingly all over again.

  Suddenly, I'm in his arms.

  He holds me close, his face buried in the side of my neck. The desperation in his embrace makes me lightheaded. I'm helpless to do anything, but hold him tight. He exhales and I feel the air on my skin, sending goosebumps down my arms. We stand there for an eternity that's still not long enough as his body shudders under me. Finally, he takes a step back, but not far enough to let me go, placing his forehead against mine.

  "Thank you, Brooklynn," he speaks softly, as if it's secret only I'm supposed to know. "I haven't seen him laugh in days. Thank you."

  "It was nothing."

  "No, it was everything." He seems so lost, so tired. I shift my face a bit so that I can look into his and find his eyes closed. My hand moves at its own accord, reaching to cup his cheek and he leans into it. "He's going to be okay, you know that right?'

  "He just scares me a bit you know? He's my responsibility."

  "It's not your fault he's sick. And you're doing everything you can to make him comfortable. That's what's important here." He stares at me as if seeing me for the first time, and I fidget under the scrutiny. Sometimes I really wish I could read his mind, just to get a glimpse of what he may be thinking. I can't even begin to imagine.

  As if reading something in my face, he releases me, suddenly moving away. I feel cold where his arms were just a second ago, like I lost something precious. I don't know what to say, or what he's suddenly thinking. His back is to me and I wonder if I should just go.

  "There is something that I wanted to ask you," he says without turning around. The tense set of his shoulders give nothing away and I'm frozen in place waiting for him to continue. "I wanted to call you so many times in the past three days but I couldn't. I dropped my phone into the bathtub when I gave Noah his bath. I try not to leave Noah for long periods of time or I would go get another one. Dad is supposed to but he keeps forgetting. I'm sorry if I made you worry."

  "It's okay. I thought—" I stop, not wanting to voice my fears. They seem so petty now in comparison to what's actually going on. But it's too late.

  "What?" Grayson asks.

  "It doesn't matter."

  "It matters to me," he says. I really need to stop blurting things out because it just keeps getting me in trouble. “Hey talk to me." He takes another step closer.

  There is no way I'm getting out of this now."I just thought, that maybe, I mean, I didn't know about your brother but, I thought it had something to do with me."

  "You?"

  "Yes, you know, what happened, or didn't happen. I guess I thought you were ignoring me because, well you know." He's grinning at me now, all concern gone and I want to slug him.

  "I don't know what you mean," He's going to make me say it. "Why don’t you tell me, Brooklynn."

  "Stop saying my name like that!" I almost shout.

  "Like what, Brooklynn?"

  "Ugh!" I growl exasperated, dropping my face into my hands. I hear him chuckling before his hands are on mine and pulling them down.

  "What are you thinking?" I shake my head, refusing to speak the thoughts that are currently running through my mind. "Hey—"

  "I'm sorry."

  "What do you have to be sorry about?"

  "For thinking." Another laugh. "Stop laughing at me," I finally give in to my urge and slug him. I move to punch him again but he catches my fist before it can connect.

  "Stop beating on me."

  "Stop laughing at me. It's not funny."

  "You're adorable when you're mad." His words stop my struggling.

  "That is exactly what I'm talking about," I grumble because his words sent that warm feeling through me, again. I'm getting so fed up with my body's responses to his simple words. I don't hate him anymore, but I'm terrified of what I might be feeling instead.

  He's watching me, waiting for me to explain, but how am I supposed to explain something even I don't understand?

  "Look, I just, I don't know what this is," I wave my hands between us hoping he'll stop torturing me, "It's like navigating uncharted waters for me, alright? And I don't like it." He grabs my hands once more, bringing me about to face him.

  "Brooklynn," Grayson's voice interrupts my freak out. "Would you like to go o
ut on a date with me? A real date. No working on our project or research. A real hanging out, me opening the door and paying for a meal kind of a date, instead of sandwiches from my cooler. Where I get to hold your hand out in public and make all the guys and girls jealous. I was thinking, maybe, even the Winter Formal?"

  He's trying to coax a smile out of me and he succeeds. I'm sure I'm shining like the brightest red star with all my blushing, but Grayson Banks just asked me out on a date. A real date. It's not just in my head, I'm not losing my mind developing feelings for a boy who wants nothing but friendship, I'm—

  "I know I'm asking a lot. We have a less than pleasant history but if you're willing to give me a chance I'd really like to take it." He's spoken right over the fears in my mind. I already trust him. I've been working up to this from the moment I said yes to him the first time.

  "I would like to go out on a date with you and yes, to the Winter Formal." He lets out a small whoop before picking me up in his arms.

  "Sorry," he mumbles setting me back down to the ground. This time, I'm the one to reach out. I place my hand on his arm and he looks up at me sharply.

  "The feeling is mutual," I say before walking out the front door. Dakota is in the driveway and she's going to want to hear every detail. I glance at the door as I get into Dakota's car and find Grayson at the doorway. He’s beaming, and I’m sure my own face is reflecting the excitement showing on his.

  "Well, that's an interesting development." Dakota comments glancing between the two of us.

  "It sure is," I reply.

  Things have just gotten a lot more interesting.

  ❧ ❧ ❧

  I'm on cloud nine.

  Seriously, I'm floating with the angels. We're buds. It's been four days since Grayson asked me out and I'm still in this state of perpetual happiness. Not even father dearest can bring me down with his condescending looks and disappointment. Grayson still hasn't been in school, but he did text me last night to let me know Noah is doing much better and talking about me nonstop. Apparently, I have conquered the heart of a five-year-old.

  "Can you please stop prancing around the room?" Chance's voice interrupts my thoughts. It's Monday after school and Chance, Dakota, and I have some studying to do. At the moment, however, Chance is laying on my bed while I pace, or prance according to him, the length of my room waiting for Dakota to arrive.

  "I'm not prancing."

  "Fine, you're skipping over the fluffy clouds that seemed to have sprung under your feet while the pure white wings and a gold halo shine all around you. I think I hear the angels singing." I glower at him and he has the audacity to look all innocent as he stares back.

  "You're a dork."

  "Can't disagree there. But I'm your favorite dork, so there's that," he says.

  I grab the closest pillow, chucking it in his direction but I am no match for his bulky frame and the pillow just bounces off his solid chest.

  "Seriously, Cosmopolitan, I can't believe you actually said yes." I sit on the bed, facing Chance as he props himself against the pillow I just threw his way.

  "I can't either. Is that the right thing to do? I mean, you know the guy well right? Should I have said no?"

  "Brook, chill. Your paranoia is showing." I duck my head, because he's right. As previously established, I'm not the most trusting person on the planet and that fact seems to reemerge any time I think of Grayson. Or any other human being for that matter. But mostly Grayson. Every horrible scenario I can think of runs thru my mind at the thought of our impending date. Which is quite hilarious, if I think about it, because I'm seriously floating in happiness here, then, suddenly I'm plunging in the despairs of doubt.

  "I can't pretend to know what Grayson is thinking," Chance continues. "But I can assure you he's been pining for you a lot longer than you can imagine." My eyes fly to his.

  "What?" He shrugs, growing uncomfortable, but is saved from answering any kind of questions as Dakota strides into the room.

  "Hello, my darling. And Chance. I have arrived." She does a little curtsy/bow, which normally makes me laugh, but right now my attention is on Chance. He scoots farther up into a sitting position, focusing on Dakota.

  "Should I try my entrance one more time? I'm not getting a good reception here." Dakota's voice distracts me.

  "Sorry, Chance here was just about to tell me something."

  "Chance was doing no such thing," the boy in question replies, reaching for his books. "Can we please just study?"

  "This is not over," I announce, before turning to Dakota. "We were just discussing Grayson."

  "Oh, a subject I wholeheartedly enjoy." She is way too enthusiastic about this. She slides up beside me on the bed, causing me to scoot closer to Chance. "Have you talked to him? When is he coming back to school?"

  "He texted to let me know Noah is getting better, but I have no idea when he's coming back."

  "Oh no, Chance what did you do?" Dakota exclaims. We stare at her as if she lost her mind, before Chance looks over my head at her.

  "Excuse me?"

  "She was all puppies and rainbows just an hour ago and now her doubting face is back in place."

  "I didn't do anything."

  "Did you, at any point of time, comment on the fact that Brooklynn actually said yes to Grayson?" Dakota demands and I watch as Chance ducks his head a little. "Ha! I knew it. You know you can't say stuff like that to her without causing her head to explode with the maybes and oh-my-goodness-what-have-I-done's!"

  "Umm guys," I exclaim, throwing up my hands. "I'm sitting, literally, between you two. Can we not talk about me like I'm not here?" I stand up, exasperated, turning to face my two best friends.

  "It's not a big deal, okay? It's just a date. We’ve hung out before. This is us doing it again." Which is what I’m trying to tell myself, but for some reason even speaking the words out loud doesn’t stop my heart from racing. I don’t understand why I’m so freaked out, but in my mind, this just seems like so much more. So much more important.

  "That's not how you made it sound last time we talked," Dakota argues, suddenly putting on her cheesy British accent. "It was more like 'Oh dear Grayson and his perfectly sculptured abs has asked me for my hand in marriage and I have graciously accepted to be his forever! Oh it is the happiest day of my life!"

  "First of all, I don't talk like that. And second of all, I'd like to strangle you now, thanks." I turn away, ignoring the huge grin on both of their faces.

  "Dakota is right," Chance says from behind my back and I hear my bed creak as he gets up. He stops right behind me, turning me to face him. "Grayson likes you. He really likes you. You should trust that. Trust yourself to like him back."

  "What if—"

  "No what if's Brook. You're going to have to give someone a chance eventually, right?"

  "Technically, I could be a perpetual spinster for the rest of my life."

  "Technically, you're never going to be a spinster. Your heart is much too big not to love another person." Chance is probably the sweetest person on the planet, but he's a guy. While he loves me, he's not in love with me and that has always been my story.

  "It's not me loving someone that's the problem, it's the other party."

  "Brooklynn." Dakota pushes past Chance to stand in front of me. "Stop second guessing your choices. You're freaking yourself out before even giving him a real shot. Grayson may surprise you."

  That settles that. I'm done talking about it and they see the resolve in my eyes.

  "Okay, can we study now? " When they exchange a look, I’m trying to hide my pleasure at seeing them together. I love these two to pieces and I especially love when they conspire. Even when they conspire against me. "Can we stop talking about me? I have to ace this history test."

  We take our positions on my bed and floor, diving into our notes. As I quiz Chance on the French Revolution, my mind drifts, inevitably to Grayson. My best friends are right. I have to give him the benefit of the doubt. He's been nothing but
sweet to me since the moment he came back to town and I can't find a fault in him like I used to. Sure, I’ve grown up with trust issues, but I’m a different person than I was before. I have changed and it's about time I start taking steps in the right direction when it comes to my life.

  Maybe giving Grayson a chance is exactly the step I need to take.

  THIRTY FOUR

  It's amazing how people brake our hearts, but we still love them with all the little pieces. - Author Unknown

  "So this weekend, are we going shopping for the Winter Formal?"

  Dakota has been asking me this question since the beginning of November. Thanksgiving is this Thursday so she's freaking out there will not be enough time to find the perfect dress. I promised to make her one but she keeps saying that she's saving that coupon for her prom dress. After all, "it's the last major high school impression you get to make and you have to look the part". Yes, her words, not mine.

  "Well, technically I don't know what I'm doing this weekend." I try to say it without a care in the world, but I know Dakota hears the insecurity creep into my voice.

  "You still haven't heard from him?" I shake my head no, trying not to dwell on the fact that besides that little update at the beginning of the week, Grayson has been MIA. I keep telling myself not to fault him in that. After all, the boy is taking care of his sick brother. It's just odd that in the world of today’s technology he can't seem to find the time to send me a text. Or an email. Or a carrier pigeon. Something.

  It takes less than thirty seconds to type out and send a text message. I know because Dakota and Chance had a race a few days ago to see who can do it the fastest. It literally takes two point nine seconds to take the phone out of your pocket, type 'I'm okay. Talk to you later." And push send. Needless to say, Dakota won that particular race since her phone is usually attached to her hand. However, it's not making me feel any better.

  "Don't assume the worst, Brooklynn. You don't know what's going on at home. Maybe he dropped his phone in the toilet again and it's absolutely unusable. Or Noah, in his dreamy rage, chucked it across the room shattering it into a million pieces. Or—"