Deeper We Fall (18 page)

“And you’re still picturing me naked.” Well, that was both true and an effective means of shutting me up.

When we got to the door, she put one ear on it. I stood behind her, trying not to be too much of a creeper as I also pressed my ear to the door and tried not lean in and smell her hair. Jasmine and coconut again.

I didn’t know what kind of conditioner she used, but I was pretty much getting high off it.

It sounded like they were just talking. I waited for a few more seconds to be sure, but so far, it sounded okay. Katie giggled, so that was a good sign. Charlotte turned and put her other ear on the door, as if it was going to hear something different. We were face to face. If I wasn’t afraid of her biting my finger off, I could have reached out and pushed the hair back from her face.

After a few more seconds of her listening and me putting my hands in my back pockets so I wouldn’t touch her, she moved slowly away from the door. She put her finger to her lips as if to shush me while we backed away and went back to the stairs.

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” I said as we walked back up the stairwell. I had an even better view of her butt this time. What was she doing to me?

She stopped walking, so I almost crashed into her. I was able to catch myself on the handrail at the last moment. Turning slowly, she bit her lip as if she was undecided about something. Charlotte was never undecided about saying anything.

“I’m scared he’s going to hurt her,” she whispered, not meeting my eyes. I moved up one step, so I was looking down at her. I silently begged her to look at me. She finally did.

“I know,” I said. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Like last time?” The words cracked like a whip. I deserved that.

“No, not like last time.” I hoped she wouldn’t ask me to promise.

“You promise?” Of course she would.

“I do,” I heard myself say. Why was I promising this?

“Pinky swear.” She shoved her pinky in my face.

“Pinky swear,” I said, linking my pinkie with hers. It was the first she’d voluntarily let me touch her skin. It was only for a second, because I let go quickly. I didn’t want to make any sudden movements.

“Thanks,” she said before dashing up the stairs.

I did it. I had a semi-normal conversation with her and she didn’t threaten to hurt me, or tell me to go away.

It made me grin like a fucking idiot.

That made me want to punch myself in the face for being such a moron.

After she left, I hung around Zack’s door, just in case. All I heard were normal couple sounds. Once those picked up in intensity, I was out of there. I’d heard my brother having sex more times than I could count, and I didn’t want to add one more to the list.

Periodically, I went down to check outside Zack’s door. The carnality continued nearly all day, and he didn’t seem to be the only one enjoying it.

Stryker texted me asking if I wanted to hang out, and I took him up on it after Zack said he was taking Katie out for an apology dinner. He didn’t say that was what it was, but I knew. He didn’t say anything about the night before when I’d taken care of him, and I didn’t give him any details. It was better to just let it go and move on.

Stryker lived so close that I just ran to his place. It was your typical apartment, occupying one floor of a three story house that had probably not been an apartment originally, but had been converted sometime in the 1980s.

“Come on in.” The rooms were cramped, but neat and crammed with books and musical instruments and the walls were papered with his drawings.

He had some music playing that I didn’t recognize.

“What is this?” I pointed to his massive speakers.

“Random Canadian band. I like underground stuff that has less than a thousand fans. You want something to drink?”

“Yeah, water is fine.”

I perused his books and found we had quite a few in common as he filled a glass with water.

“Smoke?”

“Nah, I’m trying to stay sober. Did too much of that shit.”

“Yeah, I hear you. Just thought I’d offer. You play?” He caught me eyeing the drum set crammed into the corner next to the futon.

“Not really. I wasn’t born with much of a musical gift. You play?”

“Yeah.”

“You play anything else?” My eyes swept the room and found and orchestra’s worth of instruments. Stand-up bass, guitar, drums, keyboard and a few cases that probably had other things in them.

“I told you I was a fucking genius. I’m also a musical prodigy.” He went to one of the cases and pulled out what turned out to be a banjo.

“Got this from my grandfather. That’s him,” he said, pointing to a black and white photograph of a man sitting in a helicopter in camo, nestled in between the drawings on his wall.

He slid some picks on his fingers and started playing. It wasn’t until he started singing that I recognized it was Woody Guthrie. Gramps had liked him, and I had a record in my collection, but I hadn’t listened to much of it.

Stryker tapped his foot in time to the song, and I tapped mine as well. I should have had some spoons and I could have played with him. Gramps had taught me how to play spoons when I was a kid so I could play along with his records and when he sang.

“Does this knock me down two spots on the badass scale?” Stryker said when he was done.

“Only if you start wearing overalls and a straw hat.”

“Good.” He picked at the banjo strings. “You wanna learn?”

“Seriously?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

Ten minutes later, I could play three chords.

“Not bad. You’re doing as well as my five-year-old cousin after half an hour.”

“Thanks.”

An hour later, I could play a very basic song.

Stryker’s door banged open just as I was about to start the song again.

“Hey, can I borrow your car? Mine crapped out again.” The girl that stomped in didn’t even glance at me. Reading quickly between the lines, given her brilliant orange hair, similar mouth, and similar wardrobe, this must be Stryker’s sister.

“Sure,” he pulled his keys out of his pocket and threw them at her.

“Hey,” she said eyeing me and the banjo.

“Zan, this is my sister Trish. Trish, Zan.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said as she fiddled with the keys.

“Wait, did you say Zan? As in Zan Parker?”

“Yeah,” I said.

I was infamous. It had only taken a few weeks.

“Seriously?” she said, looking from me to Stryker and back in disbelief.

“What is your problem?” Stryker said, standing up. “You don’t even live here.”

I’d been down this road plenty of times before. It was time to run again.

“It’s fine. I’ll see you later.” I took off the banjo and set it back in the case.

“No, you don’t have to leave. I’m sorry my sister is being a psycho, but that’s sort of her thing.”

“This time I have justification,” Trish said. With each word, she moved closer to Stryker.

“Not when you come into my house and make my friends feel uncomfortable.” My ear caught on the word friend.

“It does when you’re friends with people like that,” she said.

“People like what?” They were in each other’s faces and I was almost forgotten. I tried to slide toward the door, but Stryker caught me.

“People like me. People who cause car accidents when they shouldn’t be driving that end up hurting people,” I said. “Isn’t that what you mean?”

They both gave me the same semi-stunned expression.

“You could say that,” Trish said.

“How did you find out?” I asked her.

She flipped her hair back. “I work with Lottie.”

“Hold up. I feel like everyone knows something I don’t,” Stryker said.

“I’m sure she gave you the full story, so you can tell him for me. I’ll see you in class,” I said, and before he could say anything else, I pulled open the door and started running down the stairs.

I didn’t stop until I collapsed. The only sound over my heart and my breathing was the sound of my phone.

I pulled it out of my pocket and saw a bunch of missed calls and texts from Stryker, and a message from Tate.

I hit Reply and sent Tate back a message telling him to come down if he wanted. Screw it. I was going to fall off the wagon. I couldn’t fight it anymore. I’d let go for one day, and then I’d be back to trying to be what Miss Carole wanted me to be. I just had to let go for one day. Just one day.

I could handle one day of my old life.

But first I had to check on my brother and make sure he hadn’t done anything else to Katie.

I was sweating and still exhausted from my run when I knocked on Charlotte’s door. She didn’t hesitate before opening it.

“Hi,” she said. Her hair was twisted into a casual ponytail and her baggy shirt hung off one shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’ve had my eye on them. They’re out for a ‘sorry I screwed up’ dinner right now.”

She smiled, just a little bit.

“I know. Katie texted me.” I pulled my sweaty hair out of my eyes so I could see her better. “Running again?”

I glanced down to find my pants covered in stains. I always ended up covered in dirt when I went running.

I nodded. It seemed like a good time for me to leave, so I started to walk away.

“Thank you. For looking out for her.” I looked over my shoulder at her as she leaned in the doorway.

“You’re welcome, Charlotte.”

Lottie

Katie came back that night with a smile on her face. An I-got-laid smile. It made me feel sick.

“Everything okay?” I said, pretending I was the super supportive roommate who didn’t want to bash her boyfriend’s face in. It was a little bit easier now that I knew Zan was also on the look-out.

“Yeah. We made up. He was so sweet. Look.” She showed me a silver necklace with a little lopsided heart. One of those generic things that you could get in nearly any jewelry store.

“Wow, pretty.” Yes, because the shiny thing made up for him forcing her to have sex when she didn’t want to.

“He said he’s going to be more understanding.”

“I hope you hold him to it.” She didn’t answer and just kept staring at the necklace. “Seriously, Katie. I just don’t want you to get yourself into a bad situation.”

“I’m fine.”

I wanted so, so much to believe her.

“Do you want to go to the library with me?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, staring down at the necklace. It nestled perfectly between her boobs, something I’m sure Zack had planned on.

She was distracted the entire time we were at the library, too busy texting or doing whatever on her phone to pay attention to her textbook. I also caught her fingering the necklace more than once.

About an hour into her study time, Brittney showed up and dragged her over to a corner where she could squeal about the necklace. Granted, I definitely had done the squealy-happy dance before, but for some reason, this one left a sour taste in my stomach.

Katie came back and packed up her stuff.

“We’re going to the movies to see that new Nicholas Sparks. You want to come?”

“I should really get this done. I’m like, way behind.” I pointed to my book. “I wish I could.” Seriously, I did. Although, Trish would probably see it with me if I asked her.

“Okay, then. I’ll… um… see you later?” It sounded like a question. Of course I’d see her later. We lived in the same room.

“Yeah.”

She gave me an almost sad smile before she left. For the first time, I felt sad for her.

The Zan Parker box rattled open after Katie left. I’d put duct tape on it, but I couldn’t keep it closed any longer.

We’d had two semi-normal interactions. For the first time, I didn’t want to rip his head off and spit down his throat. And, I would dance naked in the football stadium before I admitted it, but he’d almost been funny.

He probably thought I was a freak for the whole pinky swear thing, but he’d been the creepy guy who’d given me tea with a poem on the cup, so maybe we had weirdness in common.

Oh, hell no
.

I had nothing in common with Zan Parker.
Nothing
.

“Hey, long time no see.”

Simon’s voice made me almost pierce my tongue with my teeth. He laughed and sunk into Katie’s chair, putting his hand on my shoulder.

“Whoa, calm down. Just your gay friend, not a serial killer.”

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer?”

“Because I actually have social skills.”

“I’m sure there are plenty of charismatic serial killers.” None came to mind, but if he gave me a moment, I was sure I’d come up with one.

He grinned.

“Not as charismatic as I am.”

I shook my head, fighting a smile.

“I miss you,” I said.

“I know, I miss you. I’ve been so busy with everything, not to mention, um, there’s this guy…” he trailed off and sighed a very un-Simon dreamy sigh.

“Oh, really? And when do I get to meet this fellow and make sure he’s up to your standards?”

“Soon. We’re not really a definite thing yet. Boys are complicated.”

Now it was my turn to sigh.

“Tell me about it.”

“How’s the Brothers of Doom sitch?”

I said the first thing that came to my mind. “Confusing.”

“How so? No ducklings?”

“It’s… Nothing. It’s fine.” Wow, I was actually able to reel the words back in before I blurted them out. Maybe I was making progress.

“No way, you do not get to dangle a piece of something delicious like that in front of me and then snatch it back.”

“You’re going to think I’m a freak.”

“Lot, I went to one of those religious camps where they try to pray away the gay. I can handle it, I swear.”

So I launched into telling him about the bizarre encounter with Zan, leaving out as many details as I could, including the pinky swearing.

He listened without comment until I was done.

“You don’t have to be ashamed of being nice to him. Maybe you’ll turn into one of those people who’s able to forgive.”

“You don’t just turn into one of those people, Simon. You either are one, or you aren’t. I’m just not. It’s enough that I told him I don’t blame him as much as Zack, but he was still part of it.”