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Deeper We Fall Page 6
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From Joni to The Lumineers to Matchbox 20 to Ella Fitzgerald to Crowded House to Imagine Dragons.
Words and notes and songs, all played with the background of my heart. I welcomed the pain of my lungs, of my legs, of my body. It meant that I could still feel something, it meant I was still human, still living.
The ground was slick with rain, so my footing wasn’t as sure as it normally was, and I went down hard. I rolled over onto my back and watched the rain fall, letting it slap my face and run into my mouth and down my cheeks. Putting my arms out, I begged for the rain to somehow wash me away. Wash the last two years away. Wash away the memories and all the shit that happened until I was back to the way I’d been.
Closing my eyes, I wished for something that couldn’t happen.
After a moment or an hour, I sat up. My lungs were almost back to normal, but my muscles were burning and twitching. Good.
I had to go back to my room, but all I wanted to do was keep running until the woods ran out. I wondered where that would take me. If I could drive, I would have been long gone. I would have taken Zack’s truck, drained my measly bank account, taken a box of records, the player, my grandfather’s lighter and his favorite hat and hit the road. Never looking back. Putting as many miles as I could between me and Seaport.
After the accident, I could never bring myself to get my driver’s license. I would have had to go through driver’s ed, and that was sort of impossible while I was at Carter, since I didn’t have a lot of free time for something like that. Whenever I thought about getting behind the wheel, my blood crystalized into ice and I couldn’t swallow. Zack made fun of me and said I was a fucking pussy, but that didn’t change the fact that even thinking about driving scared the shit out of me more than anything else. Almost anything else.
I wiped the rain from my eyes. I was absolutely covered in mud. I should go back to the dorm, shower and figure out what the hell I was going to do to get through the next few months of my life, but I got up and kept running down the trail. I wanted to see where it ended up.
Lottie
Twice in twenty-four hours. I should have been holding onto myself, rocking in a corner or something. I was far from okay, but having my brother and Simon around was like holding onto two helium balloons that wouldn’t let me descend into the depths of despair.
It was an effort not to punch him as he walked past me that morning. I wanted to punch the stare right off of his face, even if I’d need a step stool to do it. I imagined doing exactly that, but by the time I’d decided to do it, he’d walked past me and I wasn’t going to say his vile name out loud.
I didn’t tell Will or Simon about seeing Zan the second time. They were already riled up as it was, and I didn’t want them doing anything stupid. So I shoved it aside, put on a happy face like I’d done so many times before and went about my day, trying to get acclimated to a place that felt like it was a foreign country.
There were voices coming from my room when I got back with my textbook burden. One female and one male. I opened my door to find Zack and Katie canoodling on her bed, whispering sweet nothings and groping.
“Oh, hey,” I said, so they would notice me. Both of them looked so wrapped up in each other that I was pretty sure I could have tossed a grenade at them and they wouldn’t have pulled apart.
“Hey, Lottie.”
“Hey, Hottie Lottie,” Zack said, winding some of Katie’s hair around his finger and giving me a smug look. She looked both uncomfortable and pissed that he’d called me that. “How’s Sexy Lexie doing?” Oh no. He was not going there. I bottled the rage that threatened to spew from my mouth and instead settled for a sweet smile.
“She’s doing great. So, I ran into your brother. What’s he doing here?” The momentary flustered look that passed over his face was only mildly satisfying.
“He skipped a year.” Katie looked mortified, but I couldn’t stop.
“Was that before or after he was in the state youth facility? I mean, I’m sure they had wonderful educational programs, but it seems kind of odd that he would both be able to skip a grade and then get accepted here, you know, seeing as how he has a criminal record.”
“After.” His eyes narrowed and I caught a glimpse of the guy who’d stood behind me and tried to get me into that truck so many years ago. “Hey, babe, I’m really sorry about last night, but it was a guy thing, you know?”
It took a second for Katie to answer. She’d been busy following our verbal ping pong battle.
“Sure. I understand.”
“So I was thinking I should take you out tonight to make up for it. This guy I met last night is having a party. You want to go?”
“I guess,” she said as he kissed her cheek. She didn’t give him a gooey smile, but she still took his hand and let herself be led away.
“See you later,” she said.
“Bye, Hottie.” Zack gave me a little finger wave and I wanted to grab them and snap them off one by one, but I just waved back and smiled. After the door closed, I collapsed on the bed. This was going to be a long fucking semester.
Chapter Eight
Lottie
When my eyes cracked themselves open the next morning, and I saw the stained ceiling tiles above me, I had a panic attack and thought I had been kidnapped. It only lasted for half a second, but it was enough to really wake me up. I turned my head to the side and saw Katie, sprawled out in her pink nest, her mouth open and one foot sticking out of the blanket.
Attractive, that was.
I craned my neck to look at my clock. It was only seven thirty. I didn’t have to be up, so I was mentally kicking myself for deciding to be awake so early. I got myself up and ready, trying to be quiet so I didn’t wake Katie.
It was a strange situation, suddenly being thrown into a forced-intimate situation with a complete stranger. Granted, I could have done the social media stalking, but it was a little too late now. God, what if I had found out about her and Zack this summer? That would have put a damper on my beach days.
When I came back from the bathroom, Katie was awake.
“Hey,” I said. I wasn’t a real ‘good morning’ kind of person.
“Good morning,” she said with a wide yawn.
“I’m, um, going to breakfast with my brother and Simon. Do you want to come?” I didn’t think she did, but it would have been an asshole move not to ask.
“No, I’m meeting the girls for brunch later.” I assumed they were probably the same girls I’d met before. I still hadn’t figured out which one was which.
“Okay, well. See you later.” Awkward moment.
“Yeah.” I shut the door headed for the stairs down to the second floor.
I banged on Will and Simon’s door, knowing at least Simon would be awake.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he said, looking as if he’d already had twelve cups of coffee and maybe some uppers.
“Hey,” I said, walking in and noticing Will was still sacked out, sprawled all over his bed. I took a little running jump and pounced on him.
“Wake up!”
“What the fuck?!” He blinked several times before he realized it was me. “Damn, Lottie, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Why the hell are you so perky?”
“I took my Valium this morning.”
He rubbed his face and grabbed for a shirt.
“Seriously, why is everyone awake?” he said, glancing at the clock.
“Because normal people are up at this time.”
“I don’t want to be normal.”
“Well, congratulations, you’re not.” I mussed his already-mussed hair even more before I went to sit on Simon’s bed. I didn’t want to antagonize Will too much before he’d had his daily dose of coffee from the illegal coffee pot they kept hidden in the closet and would only bring out when they used it.
“I have some English Breakfast if you want it,” Simon said, handing Will his cup.
“Not feeling that today. I’m in a Green mood. Thanks anyway
.”
“Sure.”
Will took his sweet time getting ready, so Simon and I sat and played the picnic game. It was stupid, but we always ended up laughing.
“I’m bringing apples,” I said.
“I’m bringing apples and blueberries,” Simon said.
“I’m bringing apples and blueberries and cocaine.”
“I’m bringing apples and blueberries and cocaine and drama.”
We continued like that until one of us messed up. It was usually me. Will was finally ready, so we headed downstairs.
Of course the first person I saw when I walked in the cafeteria was Zan. He was sitting by himself reading, of all things, and drinking coffee. I fought the urge to turn my head so I could read the title on the spine.
“We could walk down to the Union,” Will said.
“No, it’s fine. It’s fine,” I said. I was not going to let him ruin my enjoyment of baked apple French toast. I veered to the right, going as far away from Zan as we could get. The dining room was surprisingly empty. Everyone was probably still hung over.
Of course, in order to get to the French toast, I had to walk right by Zan. I could feel his eyes on me, like someone tapping me on the shoulder. I kept my own eyes on Will’s back. He and Simon had made a Lottie sandwich.
I breathed a sigh of relief as we sat down.
“He’s looking at you,” Will said.
“Thanks, that’s very helpful,” I snapped, stabbing my breakfast with a knife. I needed tea. I got up to go get some from the little coffee cart, and ended up dropping a whole stack of cups. I bent down to pick them up, hoping no one had noticed.
“Here,” a deep voice said. I turned my head to find Zan’s face only inches away. He crouched next to me, holding one of the cups.
I stood up so fast, I banged my arm on the table. He stood up and handed me one of the cups before walking back to his table and picking up his book.
What the fuck?
I forgot about the tea and went back to my table to find several bites of my French toast missing and both Simon and Will wearing innocent faces. The coffee cart was blocked by a counter, so they hadn’t been able to see what happened with Zan.
“I thought you were getting tea,” Will said. I opened my mouth to tell them about Zan, but then I decided not to. We were about one encounter away from Will and Simon telling Zan that they should take it outside and having one of those old-fashioned beat downs. Not that I’d ever witnessed one of those in real life, but I wouldn’t put anything past Will and Simon.
“Changed my mind.”
So I ate my French toast and tried not to turn my head. I won my battle most of the time.
“Stop looking at him,” Simon said.
“I can’t help it. It’s like Hoarders. You’re horrified, but you can’t look away.”
“Please, do not mention Hoarders.” Simon had watched five minutes of one episode and thrown up.
“Did you see the one where the woman found a dead cat under her couch?” Will said, winking at me.
“Stop. Seriously stop. I will pay you money to not talk about that for the rest of the day,” Simon said as we put our trays on the conveyor belt that went back into the kitchen.
“He’s still watching you,” Will said as we walked out the door.
“I know.”
Zan
I couldn't remember the day I stopped thinking girls were annoying creatures from another planet, and when I decided I liked them, more than I thought I could like anything. Well, not all girls. Just one.
Maybe it was fifth grade, when she won that school-wide essay contest about your hero, and she wrote about Scout Finch. I wondered if she remembered how she got on the stage, wearing a dress her mother had no doubt shoved her in. Even then, Lottie wasn't much for anything fussy or frilly. Her hand trembled as she gripped her essay, her crystal blue eyes wide. I'd always thought her eyes reminded me of a tank at the aquarium, with that soothing blue light.
Her voice shook as she started to read, but after one sentence, it was like something clicked and she became someone else. Confident, assured. She knew who she was and what she was saying and if anyone disagreed with her, they could go to hell. Or at least that was how I saw her.
I spent the next several years pretending I didn't like her, because that's what you do when you like a girl, but even thinking about talking to her made me want to crawl into a hole or puke, or do some other embarrassing thing. I spent so much time pretending to dislike Lottie that it backfired.
By high school I was in so deep that even thinking her name made my palms sweat. My brother knew I liked her and had called me a pussy for years for not approaching her. He was all for Lexie. Sexy Lexie. Sure, she was pretty and fun, but there was something about Lottie. I didn't know what it was, but I knew I wanted to be around it more than I want to breathe.
Then came the night that changed everything. The night that ruined my chance of ever getting to be around her. The memory pricked at the back of my head, clawing at spots that are still raw and fresh and torn.
She walked past me, pretending she didn't see me. She pretended so hard that it was obvious to anyone watching that she was trying to avoid me.
I didn’t blame her.
I'd avoid me too, if I could.
I was pretending too. Pretending to be reading Slaughterhouse Five. Pretending that she was just another girl eating breakfast.
I forced my eyes back on the page. Forced them to stop tasting her name over and over in my mind, like a piece of delicious candy I didn’t want to dissolve.
Forced myself to stop imagining a world in which she would look at me with anything other than pure hatred and pain.
It was true. I was a fucking masochist. I popped a piece of cinnamon gum and made a mental note to ask Zack if he could take me to the store to get more. I was going to need a shit ton of it.
Mom called me while I was walking back to my room. Probably just to check on Zan, but I answered anyway.
“Hey, Zan. How’s everything going?” The subtext of the call was to ask if I’d gotten myself into trouble. That was usually the only reason we talked lately. “Did you get moved in okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. How’s Vegas?” I could hear sounds and commotion in the background, so she was probably out somewhere with Steve.
“Steve won at blackjack and I’m trying to convince him to quit while he’s ahead. You know how he gets.” Steve was an all-in, balls to the wall kind of guy. He never backed down from a challenge, whether that was a company merger or a bet or a friendly touch football game.
“Are you sure everything is okay? Have you talked to Miss Carole?”
“We’ve texted, but I haven’t called her yet.” I’d been putting it off. I didn’t want to seem too needy. Plus, she’d see right through me in a way that my mother couldn’t.
“Well, you should call her. I know she’d want to know how you’re doing. Are you taking your meds?”
“Yup,” I lied as I swiped my card to unlock my door. She breathed a sigh of relief anyway, swallowing my lie without hesitation. The background noise got louder and I heard Steve’s voice say something to her.
“Listen, I have to go, but I’ll call you when we get back, okay? Steve sends his love.” Yeah, right back atcha, Steve.
“Love you, Mom.”
“Love you, too. Bye.”
Before the accident, before Steve, Mom and I had been close. She had a harder time managing Zack, because he was always getting into something, or breaking a bone, or a lamp or curfew. I was the good boy, the one who remembered her birthday and kept my room clean. Not to say that I was an angel, but I definitely caused her less headaches. Still, Zack always excelled at everything he tried, and more than made up for his troublemaking by winning awards and praise.
She used to call me her ‘little man’, but then came Steve and she didn’t need me anymore. He filled a place that I couldn’t. She pulled away from me and I started pushi
ng her away, and then came the accident, and a chasm opened up between us that I wasn’t sure we could ever bridge. We didn’t know how to talk to each other, and that was on both our parts. Miss Carole was always bugging me to talk to my Mom, and I knew Miss Carole talked to her about trying to reconnect with me. Every now and then, Mom would suggest we do something together, but I’d put her off. Sometimes there were lost causes, and judging on the fact that my own mother hadn’t looked me in the eye in two years, our relationship was one of them.
Some things were just broken and you had to put them aside and move on.
Lottie
I was going to spend my evening reading To Kill A Mockingbird again, but Will texted me, pretending to invite me down to his room for an impromptu game night with Simon. It was really just a ploy to make sure I wasn’t sitting my room in the dark, listening to dark music and sawing at my wrists. I messaged him back saying I needed a shower and then I would be down.
“How long does it take you to shower?” Will said when I walked into his room.
“I had to shave certain personal areas,” I said.
“Whoa, whoa, WAY too much information,” Will said as Simon made a gagging noise.
“Hey, you asked. I think I’ll take that English Breakfast now, Simon.”
“In the kitchen box,” Simon said, pointing to said box that was on top of their mini fridge. I found a cup that said May The Force Be With You and had a picture of Yoda on it.
“You’re just going to sit and read, aren’t you?” Will said, as if this was some new phenomena.
I pretended to be shocked as I settled myself on Will’s Papasan chair as the microwave dinged. Simon handed me the cup and I tossed a teabag in it.
“How did you know?”
“Come on, I swear I’ll go easy on you.”
“No thanks.” I opened my book and held it in front of my face.