Fallout (23 page)

Autumn
A COLD RAIN

Is falling this morning.

Not unusual for October.

It rains a lot in San Antonio.

Warm

rain. Cool rain. Steamy

hot rain in the summer.

That part of my life, at least,

has stayed constant. Not

like

the rest of it has. Aunt

Cora, who has fallen out

of her senses in love,

is absent much too often.

I’ve

met Liam and understand

why she wants to spend

time with him. But I need

to talk, and I could

never

ask Grandfather the kind

of stuff I need to know.

I recently entered unfamiliar

territory. A place I’ve never

been before.

AN OLD MAXIM GOES

Love is in the        air. Seems like

 the October        air was heavy

   with it. Aunt   Cora inhaled a

      big whiff. And somewhat

         incredibly, so did I.

            It’s totally crazy.

               I’m scared.

I don’t know            enough about

   being in love        to insist that I

      really am. But I definitely feel

         something for Bryce, and

            I’m almost positive he

               feels something

                      for me.

  But how do I               know for sure

   if what I feel is           anything more

      than gratitude       for him paying

         attention to me? And how can

            I tell if he feels anything

                  more than sorry

                        for me?

CHERIE SAYS

Don’t overthink things.

Go with the flow, see

where it takes you. Love

is unpredictable, you know.

Not that I listen much

to what Cherie has to say,

and not that I’ve really

discussed my feelings

with her, except to half

answer her nosy questions.

He’s really cute, isn’t he?

You really like him, huh?

Well, duh and duh. But I say,

“Yeah, he is. And wouldn’t you?”

Did he ask you out yet?

Did he kiss you yet?

“No and no.” Just thinking

about kissing him makes me

nervous. All I know about kissing

is what I’ve seen in the movies.

Still, I have to admit the idea

does intrigue me more than a little.

I try to look nonchalant about

how I feel. But it must be obvious

to anyone with eyes how

I can’t keep my own eyes

off Bryce. It’s like my irises

are made of iron and

he’s a head-to-toe magnet.

That’s not hard to understand.

He’s adorable. Smart. Funny.

What I really don’t get

at all, though, is why

the attraction is mutual.

Bryce is caviar. I am

more like canned sardines.

MAYBE I’M WRONG

About the attraction

being mutual after all.

As always lately, when I get

to school, I immediately

scan the halls for Bryce,

and when I finally spot him,

he is nose to nose with

Tiffany Garcia. My cheeks

flame. Is everybody looking?

Tick-tick-tick-tick
goes

my heart. Fast. Faster.

My fingers start to tingle.

No. Not now. Everybody

is
looking, and if I freak

out, I’m completely ruined.

As I take deep and deeper

breaths, a voice falls over

my shoulder.
What’s up with that?

Cherie. Just perfect. Inhale.

“I really don’t know.” It’s all

I can find enough air to say.

I JERK MY LOCKER OPEN

Hard. Too Hard.

The neat stacks spill

into each other, onto

the floor. Now everyone

is gawking my way for sure.

Are you okay?

  Cherie’s question

      is laced with concern.

         I must look ready to pass

            out or die or something.

And maybe I am.

“Yes … No. Uh-uh-

uh …” Great. Let’s

add stuttering to my list.

“I don’t know. I mean …”

I’d be mad too.

  
Tiffany is a total

    
slut. Almost every guy

      
here has gone all the way

        
around the world with her!

Okay, it’s a slight

exaggeration, but

I’m in no mood to

disagree. “It doesn’t

matter. Not like I own him.”

The truth of that

stings. My eyes tear

up, and I wish Cherie

would just go away, let me

wallow alone in my misery pit.

As if reading,

  my mind, she says,

    
There’s Billy. I need to

      
ask him something. I’ll be

        
back in a few minutes, okay?

“I’m fine, Cherie.

Go on.” At least

my locker door is

between me and Bryce.

Except there, on the ugly

brown linoleum,

  my history book and

    chemistry notebook

      huddle, open-covered.

        I’ll have to pull my face

out from behind

the rusting metal

to get hold of them.

Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick!

Blood whooshes in my ears.