If I Fall

by Amber Thielman

  “I wish Ava knew it, too,” I murmured. Suddenly, a deep tide of sadness washed over me, and the excitement I had for school was lost. “I can’t lose her, Ty.”

  “You won’t lose her,” he said. “You won’t lose any of us.” He looked over at me and rested his hand on top of mine. His skin was warm and comforting. He eased the car to a stop in front of a red light and turned in my direction. “We won’t let you fall,” he said. “I, especially, won’t let you fall.” I was caught off guard when he leaned toward me, resting his lips on mine. I closed my eyes, content, feeling the world around us fade out as a feeling of euphoria overtook me. His lips were soft against mine, and that familiar scent cocooned me.

  “You’re making me fall for you,” I whispered, pulling back slightly. “I can’t fall for you.” Ty raised his hand to my face, cupping my chin gently in his fingers.

  “Keep falling,” he said. “That’s why I’m here to catch you.”

  “I’m glad you came in. I was hoping you would.” Mrs. Dunham waved her hand toward the over-sized chair, encouraging me to take a seat. I did as I was told, praying it wasn’t a mistake to come here. Jay had convinced me to come in and visit Mrs. Dunham after I’d told him about our past run-ins and her connection to Carter. He said it would be good for me to have a professional monitor how I was doing and encourage my new life of sobriety. I knew he was right. Mrs. Dunham had offered her help, and I wasn’t about to turn it down, no matter how awkward it might have been. She was a mere school counselor, a woman who helped young people make it through their days, and she was also my key.

  “Thanks for having me,” I said politely. Being in her office while sober was a first for me. It was more intimidating, yes, but not as embarrassing as stumbling in here drunk off my ass had been.

  “Tell me how you are, Khloe,” Mrs. Dunham said. “Tell me everything.”

  I shifted in the seat as Traci Dunham sat down across from me, crossing her legs as she steadied a pad and pen in her hand. She gazed at me over the spectacles sitting on her nose, looking into my eyes as she had often looked in Carter’s months before. I allowed my hands to drop to my lap, forcing myself to relax.

  “I’m starting school this spring,” I said. Hearing that phrase come from my mouth was surprisingly gratifying, and I felt a smile tug at the corner of my lips. “I took my GED test the other day and got the results back this morning. I can officially enroll. My friend, Ty, took me up there. He’s been great.”

  “That’s wonderful to hear,” Mrs. Dunham said. “Is Ty a friend of yours?”

  “He’s a friend,” I said and felt the heat rise to my face. “Or more than a friend. I’m not sure.”

  “A boyfriend, maybe?” Mrs. Dunham asked. She smiled, putting me at ease. “What does he do?”

  “He’s a paramedic,” I said. “He helps people.”

  “He sounds good for you.”

  “He is,” I agreed. “He’s very good to me. He and Jay both are.”

  “Jay is…”

  “Jay is an old friend of Carter’s,” I said quickly. “Well, they were more than friends. I met him after Carter died. We’re becoming pretty close.”

  “That’s fantastic to hear,” the counselor said, and she sounded genuinely pleased. “Tell me about the drugs and drinking.”

  “I’ve been sober for almost a week,” I said. For a moment, I regretted even mentioning it. A week didn’t seem to be even close to progress, but I was surprised when Mrs. Dunham smiled at me.

  “I hope you understand what kind of dedication and willpower that takes,” she said. “The fact that you’re even up to trying is more progress than most addicts have ever made. I think Carter would be proud.”

  “I know he would be.” I looked down at my lap, letting my eyes flutter over the journal that had taken its usual place in my lap. “I just wish he was here to see it.” Mrs. Dunham smiled then, setting her pen and pad aside. She removed her glasses and proceeded to clean them on the hem of her shirt.

  “I think he is,” she said. “Even if it is just in spirit.”

  “I don’t know if I believe in that stuff,” I murmured.

  “You don’t have to believe it to feel it,” she said. “But when two people are as close as you and Carter were, I don’t believe a love like that ever truly dies.” She replaced her glasses and leaned back, smiling again. Her eyes flickered from my face and down to the journal. “How is the reading coming?” she asked. I sighed and ran my thumbs over the faded, leather-bound cover.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “It’s difficult to read sometimes. It’s hard to find out how much pain Carter was truly in, and I had no idea about it.”

  “What would have happened had you known?” she asked. I looked up at the counselor, feeling a stab in my heart.

  “Maybe I could have saved him,” I said. Mrs. Dunham smiled, but it was a sad smile.

  “I don’t think he wanted you to know, Khloe,” she said. “Do you think maybe he was only here to protect you?”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “No?”

  “No.” I folded my arms, feeling suddenly like a toddler on the verge of a fit. “I don’t think anyone is born only to grow up and die. Carter didn’t even live his life. He was still a kid. Both of us were.” Mrs. Dunham and I stared one another down, silent, pensive. I swallowed back my hurt and anger, debating on whether to bail from this place and never return. However, before I could force myself to rise, the counselor spoke.

  “Carter was your angel in life, Khloe. You must allow him to be your angel in death if you can ever allow yourself to move on.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, unexpectedly missing Carter as much as I had when I’d found him lifeless on his bedroom floor. That night, a life had ended, and a second one—mine—had ceased to continue. In losing Carter, I had lost a piece of myself, a missing chunk from the puzzle of life. Without it, there would be no end, just a never-ending search for that missing piece. I knew right then that it didn’t matter how long I was sober, or how well I did in school. Despite all those things, I knew I would truly never move on with my life until I came to peace with his death.

  “I don’t know if I can do this,” I said. “I don’t know if I can just forget about him.”

  “No one is asking you to forget.” Mrs. Dunham leaned forward, her vivid blue eyes meeting mine. “No one would expect you to forget Carter. We’re asking you to accept it.”

  “I can’t accept that he’s dead,” I said.

  “Then accept that he’s still here, in spirit.” Mrs. Dunham leaned back in her chair and scribbled something down on her notepad. Then she looked at me again. “Only then will you truly be able to piece your own life back together.”

  “So, how did it go?” Jay reached down to turn the music on low and glanced over at me. I was still holding Carter’s journal in my hands, running over the session I’d just had with Mrs. Dunham in my head.

  “It was… okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  “Yeah.” I hesitated, staring out the window at the cars around us. “I mean, she didn’t have any answers for me.”

  “It’s not her job to have answers, Khloe,” Jay said. “It’s her job to help you find your own answers.”

  “I guess,” I murmured. Then I looked over at him. “Sometimes, I find myself wondering if there are even any answers to find.”

  I hadn’t seen Ava in a while, even at work. The boss told me she’d taken more time off, and she refused to answer her phone or open the door to me, which only left me anxious and on edge, especially when I didn’t have a bottle of booze to drown my emotions in. I found myself constantly wondering about her, worrying, praying she was okay and not dead in some ditch on the side of the road somewhere. I tended the bar without her there, just keeping my head down and my mouth closed so I could get by day to day.

  When I wasn’t working, I found myself spending increasingly more t
ime with Ty, and by the end of the month, I had come to find that I was spending more time at his place than I was my own. I was relieved to have him. I knew what would have happened had he not been there to hold me up. The result wouldn’t have been good. Eventually, Jesse stopped calling my phone, and the texts had ceased.

  We were curled up on Ty’s couch in his living room, only halfway paying attention to the movie he’d put on for our Friday night marathon. It was ten o’clock. By now, I would have been wasted and stumbling, but tonight I was sober. Week four, and I was amazed at the way the cravings had begun to subside.

  “I like you here,” Ty said. He reached for a box of chow mien and dug in, awkwardly trying to eat with the chopsticks. I giggled, reaching over to brush a strand of dark hair aside. The more time I spent with Ty, the harder I felt myself falling. He was still so charming and kind, funny and intelligent. I kept waiting for something to go wrong—a broken heart or a major fight or admittance to simply tolerating me out of sympathy. But none of those things had happened. Being with him was just as compelling as it had been the first day.

  “I wish I had something else besides work to keep me busy,” I said. “I wish it was time for school to start.” I cracked open a fortune cookie and crunched on it.

  “Volunteer at the hospital for a while,” Ty suggested. “You’ll be in school for nursing, eventually medical school, that will look great on a resume.”

  “I can do that?” I asked. “Volunteer at the hospital?”

  “Hell, yeah.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “You’d be surprised the things you learn when your world stops revolving around booze.” Ty smiled and winked, but it was easy to see his point. Since I’d given up drugs and alcohol, my mind was suddenly concerned with so many other things that had not been relevant before. I often found myself pondering goals, making a bucket list, thinking about life. I felt more driven to succeed now, and not so stuck in a rut, flailing in a black hole of nothingness.

  “Ty,” I said, and shifted so I could face him. “We need to help Ava. I know you said that if she’s ever ready, she’ll come to us, but I can’t sit back and wait for it. If she died because I didn’t try and help her, I could never forgive myself.”

  “I know,” Ty said. “And I think you’re right. I think your friend is too stubborn to come forward and seek help.”

  “We need to do it ourselves,” I said.

  “I agree. And I think I have an idea for her and you.”

  “Thank you.” I leaned forward and rested my lips on his, inhaling his familiar, comforting scent. I was just about to pull away when Ty caught my chin in his fingers, keeping me steady. I melted into him, hungry for more. A fire kindled in the pit of my stomach. Overwhelming desire washed over me, and I felt a tingling in my abdomen as the need became more intense.

  “I’m sorry,” Ty said and pulled away. “I hope I’m not pressuring you.”

  “No.” I pulled him back into me, never wanting to let go. “I want this.”

  Ty didn’t argue as I pressed my lips to his again, slowly letting my hand slide down his chest, over his abdomen, and then lower. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this intimate while sober. It was an enchanting feeling, and I found myself feeling so much more aware of every touch, every tingle, every feeling from the top of my head down to my toes. I moved my hand along Ty’s zipper, feeling him harden with excitement beneath my touch. As I teased his tongue with my own, he reached back with one hand and unclasped my bra before pulling my t-shirt over my head. I allowed him to do it, squirming with pleasure as his thumb caressed my nipple. I drew in a deep breath of air between my teeth and closed my eyes.

  “Please tell me you have condoms,” I whispered. Ty smiled, drawing his hand back, and then stood and went into his bedroom, coming out a moment later with foil-wrapped protection.

  “I’m not sure if I should be relieved or horrified,” I said with a giggle.

  “Trust me, this isn’t as cool as it looks. I’m pretty sure they belonged to an old roommate of mine who used to live in that room.”

  “Keep the sexy talk coming.” I snickered. “I can’t get enough of it.”

  Ty smiled and sat back down on the couch, the condom still gripped between two fingers. “Are you sure?” he asked, and I removed his shirt in silence, allowing my hand to rest on his chest. His muscles tensed and rippled beneath my fingers, and the fire in my stomach grew. In one quick motion, I had Ty pressed down against the couch, straddling him. I pulled my hair out of the band that held it together and allowed it to cascade down over my shoulders and breasts. Then, gently, I slipped the Levi’s from Ty’s legs before leaning over and letting my lips rest against his lower abdomen. He closed his eyes, groaning in pleasure, and I kicked off my panties. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted someone this badly.

  I took the condom from Ty’s hand and ripped the foil with my teeth. The feeling of his skin against mine was more than I could handle, and I was already more than ready to allow him to take me as I slipped the condom on him and lowered myself onto him, feeling a burst of pleasure zip through my spine. Ty groaned, which only made me want him more. I rocked my hips up and down, allowing him to fill me completely. His body moved in sync with mine, forcing another zap of pleasure through me. I closed my eyes and rested my hands on his chest as I neared climax. At the last second, before I released, Ty flipped me over so that he was on top. I gasped as he slid into me, panting, and all at once, moments later, we collapsed in each other’s arms, trying to catch our breath.

  “Khloe Daniels, I think I love you,” Ty whispered, pulling me into him. I rested my head on his chest, feeling content, and, for the first time in a long time, happy.

  “I think I love you, too,” I murmured, but I really had no doubt about it. I was crazy about this man and everything he was. It was a feeling I had never experienced before now, and I didn’t mind it a single bit.

  I sat in the car in the dark, parked on the corner of Eighth Street and Elm. It was Saturday night, but the neighborhood was quiet. I kept my eyes peeled for Jay, knowing that he would be off work and meeting Ty and me here at any moment. As I waited, I reached for my cell phone, skimming through the contacts before pushing green. It rang once, twice, three times. I closed my eyes and silently prayed. There was no answer.

  “Try again,” Ty urged. I redialed the number, let it ring, and then called back when no one picked up. After six more times of this game, she finally answered.

  “What?”

  “Hi, Ava, it’s me.” Relieved that she’d finally answered, I balanced the phone between my ear and shoulder and turned the car off, staring into the darkness. Jay had tuned up Missus Betty for me. Ty knew nothing about cars, possibly his only flaw, but I knew it was only a matter of time before the poor car was done for.

  “No shit,” Ava said. Either she was sick as a dog, or she wasn’t glad to hear from me. Regardless of which one it was, I was shockingly relieved to hear that, if anything, she was still alive. Ty looked over at me from where he was sitting in the passenger seat. His eyebrows were raised.

  “Are you home? Can you do me a favor?” I asked her. “Can you meet me on Eighth Street?”

  “Yes, I’m home. Why?”

  “I need to talk to you. There’s a little cafe on the corner. See you in fifteen minutes?”

  “I don’t think so,” Ava said. I hoped that she was just tired and not high. Her little place was only a few blocks from here. I knew that if she really were home, she could meet me here with no problem.

  “Please,” I said. “I beg of you, Ava. Just meet me here. We need to talk.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything that needs to be said,” Ava snapped. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, resisting the urge to start crying or screaming or both.

  “Eighth Street,” I said. “You’ll see my car. See you in a bit.” I hung up before she could reply, praying that she would s
how up. Ava was hard to predict, even for me, her best friend. I knew her better than I knew anybody, and yet sometimes I felt as though I hardly knew her at all. I wondered if that was how Carter felt with me. It’s certainly how I felt with him.

  “She’ll come,” Ty said, seeing the look on my face. He reached out and squeezed my hand, which automatically put me at ease. I hated how well he could do that because it made me feel completely dependent on him.

  “I hope so,” I said. “But you don’t know Ava like I do.”

  My cell phone lit up with an incoming text. It was Jay. He was on his way. I took a deep breath and slipped my phone into my pocket before gathering my keys and stepping out of the car. Ty did the same, putting his arm around me and pulling me in. The air was brisk and cool with a September rush of fall. I couldn’t believe that it had been almost six months since Carter’s passing. Most of the time, it still felt like it was yesterday.

  Down the street, someone hooted and hollered, stumbling out of the corner bar. A woman was wrapped around the kid’s neck, practically hanging on him as he stumbled unsteadily. The longer I watched, the more familiar the kid became. It was Jesse.

  “Christ.” I rolled my eyes and turned away, hoping he wouldn’t see me and stop to chat, but I was a moment too late. Jesse paused in the middle of the road, his eyes scanning my face over the head of the blonde-haired woman who was still hanging on him like a leech to wet skin.

  “Khloe,” he said, and came over. Ty, who was still arm in arm with me, said nothing, only observed.

  “Hi, Jesse.” I tried to sound pleasant, but I didn’t let go of Ty’s arm. It wasn’t Jesse who had gotten me into the drugs and booze. He had only been my play toy while I’d been down in the dumps. If anything, I should have been feeling guilty.

  “You never call me anymore,” Jesse said. He stepped in front of me, swaying. His hands were deep in the baggy pockets of his jeans. I saw his eyes scan over Ty, but he didn’t offer his hand. The woman with him gave me a once-over, sneering as if sizing me up for a rumble in the park. I rolled my eyes.