When We Fall

by Olivia Rose

  When We Fall

  Copyright © 2019 by Olivia Rose

  Published by Bright Eyes Publishing Ltd

  www.oliviarosebooks.com

  Cover Design by Pink Elephant Designs. | Edited by Andrea Long | Formatted by Olivia Rose

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it wasn’t purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  All rights reserved.

  Except as permitted under S.I No 337/2011 European Communities (Electronic Communications Networks and Services) (Universal Service and Users Rights) Regulations 2011, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via other means without the permission of a publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorised electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referred to in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorised, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  When We Fall/Olivia Rose – 1sted.

  ISBN-13 – 9781798182390

  READERS NOTE

  This book was previously published under the author name Sloane Murphy. Olivia Rose is a pen name for all contemporary works written by Sloane, and that is why this has been republished. As well as being republished, this story has undergone an extensive re-edit process, the story has been altered from the original, so things will be different to what you have read before.

  Contents

  READERS NOTE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  AUTHORS NOTE

  WORKS FROM THE AUTHOR

  'To be nobody-but-yourself - in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else - means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.’

  ~ E. E. Cummings

  CHAPTER ONE

  "What are you staring at, freak?"

  I feel a prickle on the back of my neck, and I can already see Tegan Winters and her group in my mind's eye. I turn around from leaning on my locker to find them stood in front of me, the picture of mean girls. You know, the ones every high school has? Except now, we're seniors and they're top of the food chain, and well, I'm bottom. This is nothing new, it's been like this since I was five, and yet my stomach still sinks when they engage with me.

  The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I swallow. Just one day I wish she could cut me some slack.

  "I-, I-." The words won't come.

  S-Sorry, I-, I-, I- can't hear you." She looks to her squad and they all laugh at me while they fawn over her.

  "Seriously? What a loser! Maybe you need to go to some special freak show school where they can teach you how to talk for real; like to actual human beings, not just the voices in your head."

  I look down at my chucks, hoping she gets bored quickly and moves onto her next victim. A pair of sneakers move behind her and I hear a high-pitched squeal and an encore of, "aww". I know it's Evan Walker before I even look up: my next-door neighbor, Tegan's boyfriend, and the love of my life. We had a... let's call it... 'a moment', I guess, over the summer when he and Tegan broke up. I don't know why I let it matter to me; they're always breaking up and making up. Oh, who am I kidding? I am, and remain, in spite of everything, crazy about him.

  I look up and see him draped over her; his arms around her waist, his head tipped down to the side as he kisses her, his shaggy blond hair falling into what would be his startling blue eyes, but they're closed. I can't stop myself from looking, even though I hate every second of it.

  "Ewww, perv alert!" Chrissy, one of Tegan's minions, says as another, Becca, giggles. Evan pulls away from Tegan. "Stop watching, you freak," she squeaks as I blush furiously.

  Evan smiles in my direction and says, "Oh, hey, Erin. I didn't see you."

  Read, didn't even notice me. Ugh!

  "Why would you see her when I'm all you need, baby?" Tegan coos as she leans in to kiss him.

  "Err... yeah, I'm going to go... err, go. History." The words fall out of my mouth in a horrific stream of babble before I slam my locker door shut and start to walk away. That's when I hear a rip and feel the cold air on my back. Jesus Christ, I can't make it through one single day without being a complete moron. I hear giggles all around as my plain white tee flaps around at the back, exposing my back and bra straps. What an epic day! I clutch my books to my front, trying to keep the tee stable, before heading to the closest girls' bathroom. You see, this sort of thing happens to me more than I care to admit.

  I rummage through my satchel and pull out a wrinkled Jaded Hearts tee I got at a gig over the summer and replace my torn one with it. With this kind of humiliation before nine am, things can't get any worse, right?

  Wrong.

  I slide into my history lesson and snag the back corner before everyone else filters in.

  "Hey, Erin, nice summer?" Scottie Blakeley, one of the other victims of Tegan and her goon squad, but also one of my closest friends, asks as she takes a seat at the desk in front of me next to her twin Jake. I smile at her before she turns forward. She's possibly my only real friend in what has become a lonely world. In a town with a population as small as Rocky Falls, reputation and rumor are everything, and somehow Tegan made sure that I was the town pariah. I'm the poor little orphan you don't want to get too close to, just in case my bad luck rubs off on you. The only person who gets it as bad as I do, is Josh Saunders. I've never understood it; he's the sheriff's son and seems nice enough, but then, I've never really spoken to him in any depth.

  Ever since Tegan came to my fifth birthday party, and her aunt died the next day, she's taken it upon herself to make my life hell; as if somehow it was all related and definitely my fault. It was Tegan who practically handed me my pariah crown.

  Mr. Lancaster walks in on the second bell. His gray hair has thinned further over the summer, and his frame is even skinnier than before, though I didn't think that was possible. His blue suit is sharp and he's wearing a clown tie. While everyone else might make fun of him, he's my favorite teacher by far.

  Ricky Donovan lingers by my desk. "Oh look, Little Orphan Erin sits alone again. Maybe one day you'll be a real girl, with real friends and everything. But then again, maybe they'll just throw you away like your parents did." The room 'Oooo's' and sniggers at Ricky's words, which cut through me like glass. It's nothing I haven't endured my entire school career, but that doesn't mean it doesn't sting.

  "Good morning, class. I'm sure you'
re all thrilled to be back and are raring to go. This is your last year at Rocky Falls High. I'm sure you'll make it worth it," he says as he passes out our textbooks for this year.

  "Your first assignment of the year is to research your family tree and write a paper on someone in your tree who made a difference. Yes, even you, Mr. Donovan, has someone, who at some point, did something worthwhile," he says, cutting off Ricky Donovan's sniggering.

  "Sucks to be you, Erin. Guess you'll just have to write up another fantasy story," Tegan snarks quietly, but just loud enough that I can hear.

  Well, this is going to suck. As much as Mr. Lancaster thinks everyone has something to write about, and as much as I hate to admit it, Tegan is right. I don't really know my history. I know I was left at the church in Rocky Falls, and Pastor Michaels found me a home with his sister, where I grew up knowing more love than I could ever possibly imagine, but I know nothing about my real history.

  My thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. My head shoots up as the principal's secretary walks in and whispers something to Mr. Lancaster.

  "Well, well, students, it seems we have someone new joining us this year. I'm sure you'll be as welcoming as always to Mr... errr..."

  A deep, gruff voice comes from outside the class, "Knight. Mason Knight,"

  "Yes, Mr. Knight, please come in. The only available seat is by Miss Michaels, if you'd like to take it."

  Wait, that's me. Awesome.

  Mr. Lancaster points directly at me, and I drop my eyes to my desk and feel my cheeks heat. I hate being singled out, but I can't keep my eyes from the door for long. I look up and see Scottie wink at me, the little hellion. She thinks I should reach out to people more, people that aren't her. She keeps telling me that Tegan doesn't have to rule my high school experience. I roll my eyes at her before they dart back to the door.

  Mason steps into the room and the silence turns to excited chatter. The guy looks like he has walked straight out of some stupid fragrance commercial. If I said he was 'pretty', I'd be doing him an injustice. Just looking at him makes me sit up straighter and subtly check my hair. My heart races, which is outrageous because he's still all the way across the room. He stands at around 6'4" with his dirty blond hair buzzed at the sides but longer on top. His jaw is all sorts of sharp angles—I'm sure it could cut me if I got too close. His eyes look stormy from this distance; I'd guess all swirling dark blues or grays. He's wearing indigo jeans, and a long-sleeved gray tee, the buttons undone at the neck, the tip of a tattoo peeking out. He struts across the room toward me, and then just looks at me as he clears his throat and I realize I'm staring at him. Oh hell. I blush and look down at my textbook, hoping the ground will swallow me whole. My skin feels like it's on fire.

  "Please sit down so people stop staring," I plead softly as he hovers, still watching me intently like I'm some sort of puzzle he can't work out.

  I've handled humiliation quite well up to this point, but I'd like to avoid giving Tegan any more ammunition than necessary. He grunts something that sounds like, "Okay," before he takes the seat next to me.

  "Be careful with that one, man. She's a stage four clinger," Ricky quips and the entire class laughs, making me sink further down into my chair while I pray for this class to be over already. His arm brushes against mine and I jump as if I've been shocked. Holy hell, I need to get a grip of myself. I try to focus on the lesson and Mr. Lancaster, but all I can pay attention to is how close he is to me and just how good he smells; like the woods just after heavy rain. The bell rings and I pack my things away in record time before running from the room. I head to English and hope to God this day ends quickly.

  CHAPTER TWO

  IT DIDN'T. OH, MY LORD it didn't. Today has been a disaster and it's only freaking lunchtime. It has been the most horrific first day back ever. Okay, so maybe I'm being a little dramatic, but I ended up eating my lunch in the back corner of the library just to avoid people. Apparently, sitting next to Mason Knight for the majority of my classes meant I'm suddenly interesting.

  I'm not sure what's worse. One, that people seem to want to talk to me, which is beyond weird; or two, the fact I couldn't concentrate on anything because Mason Knight might just be the biggest, most beautiful distraction I've ever come across in my entire life! Beautiful isn't a word I'd normally use for a guy, but nothing else really does him justice.

  The lunch bell rings, and I leave my hiding spot in the library and rush to chemistry. I'm retreating to the back corner as ever, planning on sitting alone, when Mason's way too likeable face appears in my peripherals. It takes so much restraint not to faceplant my desk. This cannot be happening.

  "Guess we'll be table buddies again. I suck at chemistry, so I hope you're some sort of genius. I'm going to need all the help I can get."

  I blush and untuck my hair from behind my ear to cover my face.

  "We'll be fine," I mumble as I heave my textbook out of my bag and arrange my jotters.

  "Are you always this loquacious or is it just with me?" He looks at me with a raised eyebrow, like he's not used to people not flinging themselves at him and worshipping at the altar of all things Mason.

  "Erm... I- I-" I take a deep breath and try to calm my nerves and my stutter, but Mrs. Potter bounces into the room, her musical voice reaching us and stealing his attention. Oh, thank God.

  "Welcome back everyone. Mr. Knight, I see you found a seat. Welcome to Rocky Falls High. After such a long summer, I won't kick off with a bunch of text. I want to do a practical and get you guys thinking." She floats through the room, placing a piece of paper on each desk.

  "Each pairing has their own individual experiment to try. I want you to follow the instructions carefully, and then your homework for today will be writing a report of what went right, and what went wrong, and why. Let's begin."

  A groan echoes around the room; Mason's gravelly voice joining them. "Man, I hate Chemistry. I hope you don't feel too precious about your eyebrows, tiger."

  "Excuse me?" What did he just call me?

  "Just saying I might burn off your eyebrows, tiger."

  He did say that!

  "Why are you calling me tiger?" I ask in a whisper.

  He smirks. Well, you know, you remind me of a cute little kitten, all shy and hidden away. But I have this feeling there are some claws deep down. Like a tiger."

  "Please just call me Erin," I whimper.

  "Nah, where's the fun in that? I give all my friends nicknames, and since we're obviously destined to be friends, I'm giving you yours early."

  "That's really not necessary. Maybe I'm a shitty friend, and I don't deserve a nickname."

  "Nah, I can tell already, tiger. You and I are going to be fast friends. You'll see." He winks at me before picking up the chem lab and groaning before passing it to me. How bad could it be?

  Really, really bad. That's how. Mason wasn't lying about his struggles with chemistry. When he accidently added nitric acid to our chemical base instead of water, all of a sudden it started bubbling and then the smell... oh my god, the smell.... Class was ended and we were dismissed. I went through my last period unscathed before rushing home.

  I fling myself face down onto my bed and groan at how ridiculous it all is. God, he's just a boy. I've been surrounded by them my entire life. I've coped and functioned perfectly well, until now. I just need to get a grip on myself.

  "Erin," Monica calls from the kitchen downstairs. "Dinner's nearly ready. Get yourself cleaned up and get that tooshie down here."

  I roll my eyes. I love Monica, I really do. She took me in when she didn't have to. As she couldn't have children, she said I was her gift from above. I'm lucky I have her. She's laid back and acts more like a friend than a mom, but it works for us. She trusts me, and treats me like an equal; well, unless I fuck up, then my head rolls. I swear to God though, if she says tooshie once more in this lifetime, I'll explode.

  "I'll be right down," I yell back before rolling off the bed and looking in the mir
ror. To look at me, you'd never know today was an awful day. My long, dark hair falls like a waterfall of soft curls down my back; my blue eyes are wide; my face void of makeup, because who has time for all of that. I've changed since school and thrown out my ripped tee. My black jeans hug my legs, and I have a white and black layered tank on top. My usual assortment of leather bracelets adorn my wrists, various rings are on my fingers, and I have a leather shoelace choker with a guitar pick hanging around my throat. It's not everyone's taste, but I like it, and that's what matters to me. No-one out there knows me enough for me to give a damn.

  I open my door and the best smell in the world hits me. Tacos! Yes! I practically run down the stairs and into the kitchen where Monica is humming along to a song on the radio. Her lavender hair is up in a messy bun and her legs, which are wrapped in her favorite blue and white Aztec leggings, are doing their own funky dance. I watch her for a while from the door. I never cease to be amazed by her spirit, or her quirky dress sense. She's matched the crazy leggings with a long black jumper dress and a bright orange scarf. Monica's not much taller than my 5'4", but she's much skinnier than me; she's athletic where I'm soft and curvy. She teaches Yoga and Pilates at the local gym along with aerobics and a ton of other stuff you'd never catch me doing. Me, I'd rather grab a book and get comfortable with a blanket on the loveseat in the living room. She often jokes that she thought she'd adopted a child but got a cat.

  She turns and squeaks when she finally senses me. "Erin, you shouldn't sneak up on an old woman like me." She winks. "My poor heart can't take it."

  "Oh please, you're younger inside than I am. Plus, you're not old, you're only just brushing your forties. That's not old, it's mature," I reply, with a cheeky smile.

  "Oh, hush you," she says, sticking her tongue out at me. "Anyway, I have a surprise for you." She steps sideways and behind her on the countertop are a dozen red-velvet cupcakes, topped with white chocolate cheesecake and drizzled with milk chocolate ganache. My favorite! I squeal and run over to her, hugging the bones of her.