How We Fall (23 page)

I’ve noticed the blog has been quiet for a while. If you ever
need an idea for a post, a comparison of the different
Wuthering Heights
adaptations would be interesting to see. Heathcliff comes
off so differently in each one.
Wuthering Heights
and
Tess of the D’Urbervilles
were two of my favorites in high school. Have you
read either of them? Usually when someone recommends Gothic
tragedy, they point to Poe’s work, but it’s so much bigger than that.

I raised my eyebrows and skimmed the rest of the message while stirring my melting ice cream. He argued that
Tess
should be called a Gothic tragedy too, and that Heathcliff was misun-derstood. Maybe he should just write the blog post for me.

Of course, the whole story is riddled with passion and emotion
that were scandalous for the time. It seems like hiding those things
damages people. Sorry, I’m rambling now. I had a professor my
freshman year who loved the book, and I guess her enthusiasm was
contagious.

Misunderstood. Not the primary word I’d use for Heathcliff, but whatever. Treading the line between romantic hero and anti-hero, and then plunging catastrophically over the edge to anti-hero wasn’t something I had much sympathy for.

I shook my head. I wasn’t going to debate Heathcliff with this guy. Plus, the two novels he pointed out are ones in which people were perpetually miserable. Thanks, but no thanks.

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Anyway, I hope you’re handling things okay. I lost a friend to
suicide in high school, and you just have to adjust and move on,
and try to not let it make you too upset. They made their own
choices, tragic as it is.

Hold on. How in the world could I not be upset about Ellie?

Someone had killed her. Her life had been brutally cut short.

She hadn’t killed herself; suicide was not the same as murder.

Annoyed and not sure how to reply, I switched to Facebook, only to see six people had commented on Marcus’s relationship status. Woo-hoo, indeed.

172

Saturday morning, I woke up much earlier than I had planned because Claire slammed my bedroom door.

“Oh, sorry, did that wake you?” She stood there grinning at me, like this kind of behavior in the morning wasn’t borderline criminal.

“You did that on purpose,” I groaned.

“That’s what sisters are for. Now get up. I was sent with a message.” She dropped her laundry bags. Claire was the only person in our entire family who actually liked mornings. Her ability to function this early was almost inappropriate.

I sat up partway and looked at the alarm. Eight fifteen. Too early for the weekend. Much too early. “What message?”

“The second hottest guy I’ve ever seen is sitting in the driveway. He says he’s waiting for you. He’s got flowers.”

“What?” I sat upright. “Why?”

“He says you have a date. We had a good talk about you.

And wow, Jackie, I’m jealous. He looks so good I want to eat him.”

I slid out of bed. Will couldn’t be here now. Our date was tonight, so I couldn’t imagine why he’d be sitting in the driveway. Some horrible mix-up—this was why I hated dating. My face was already red with embarrassment over being asleep while he waited in the driveway, and I hadn’t even seen him yet.

I washed my face and then reached for my toothbrush.

We hadn’t actually said our date would be for dinner, though.

Had he said he’d pick me up this morning, and I’d missed that 173

How we Fall

somehow? Claire watched me, one eyebrow raised, as I raced around the room brushing my teeth and searching for something decent to wear.

She shook her head. “Take it easy, Jacks. I’ll go entertain your gentleman caller. I’m a pro, remember.”

Claire was a pro. Dating for her was as easy as it was horrible and awkward for me. Mortified. That was a good word to describe my feelings at that moment. I dragged a brush through my hair, pulled on jeans and an oversized gray hoodie, and ran outside. I could tell him to come back tonight and then I’d have time to shower and get cute before he came back.

Claire sat in the passenger seat of Will’s car, the door hanging open. She laughed at something, and she kept laughing as I walked up. When she got out of the car, she whispered, “If you don’t take him, I will.”

I glared.

“I’m going, I’m going. Have fun.” She ran up the driveway.

I put a hand on the car roof and leaned inside. “Hey. I guess I thought you were coming tonight. How long have you been—”

“I know, don’t worry,” he interrupted. “We never said when.

But you did say you didn’t like normal dates. So, I figured I’d just take you out for breakfast.”

What kind of plan was that? He so didn’t know me. Still, it was hard to criticize a guy who handed me daisies. “Oh. Thank you.” They were pretty; tiny and white with bright yellow centers. His hand brushed mine, and my skin warmed where he’d touched me.

“Come on. Let’s go.” He winked. “I’ve been waiting.”

“You could have texted me to say you were here.” I got in and closed the door.

“I didn’t want to wake you. I figured you’d be up soon enough and I’d wait.”

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Creeper. “What a lovely thought.”

“I mean, I was just watching for lights or something. You guys sleep late.”

“It’s not late. How could you think eight fifteen was late?”

He shrugged. “Well, I work nights, so I got off work not too long ago.”

“Oh. Wal-Mart, right?” I buckled my seatbelt and desperately wished I’d had time to dress up a little more. I was wearing a hoodie on a date.

“It’s my dream job. I’m the king of stocking shelves.” He grinned. “But since I figured I’d be waking you up, I brought you coffee. It tastes like crap, but it’s hot.”

The cup holder held one of the sixteen-ounce cups from the Manson gas station. I reached for it. He was right, their coffee was crap, but it was better than nothing. Something inside me relented. “Okay, you’re partially forgiven for waking me.”

His eyes widened. “Only partially? Geez. What else do I have to do?”

“Not sure yet. I try not to waste owed favors.” I was trying to tease him, but it wasn’t coming out right. Stupid mornings.

“Well, let me know when you think of your wishes,” he said.

“I figured I owed you at least three more for waking you up.”

“Three?” I sipped the coffee. It was almost too hot, and much too sweet.

“Breakfast will be your first wish, the pleasure of my company can be your second, and then that leaves one more for whatever you want. Is the coffee okay?”

“Did you put in like six sugar packets?” I wouldn’t have said anything, but he asked, and it did taste like syrup.

“Four of those hazelnut creamer things. Girls like coffee sweet, right?”

I assumed he was joking, but he looked a little concerned.

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How we Fall

sweet, but it’s still good. Thank you.” The blue in his eyes was even brighter because of his dark eyelashes. He had such a pretty face—not feminine, really, but gorgeous all the same.

The drive to Harris was over the same meandering, hilly blacktop where the truck had forced us off the road. We passed the trail Marcus and I had plowed into the corn. Black skid marks still scarred the asphalt and shudder trickled down my spine.

When we pulled into the parking lot for the diner in Harris, Will leaped out of the car and ran around to open my door before I could do it.

The bell on the diner door tinkled. Tiny tables with red-vinyled chairs lined the room, mostly empty except for a group of farmers with their coffee. The smell of hot griddles and brewing coffee permeated the air. We seated ourselves.

Breakfast for me was normally just coffee, but nothing in the world smelled as good as this diner, and suddenly I was hungry.

Our waitress walked up and handed us menus, smiling. She must like mornings. “What can I get y’all?” Without hesitating, I ordered coffee, eggs, and pancakes. Will glanced at the menu and asked for an omelet. She disappeared and came back with my coffee.

I stirred in a packet of sugar while Will watched how I fixed it. “Is this particularly interesting?” I asked.

“I want to know for next time.”

Next time. I set down my spoon. “Do you pay such careful attention to every girl you go out with?”

He cocked his head to the side. “Generally. I mean, why not?”

“It doesn’t seem like a first date thing.” I liked him, and I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. Honestly, I might be tempted by a second date if it didn’t involve mornings, but not only did I think he wasn’t as serious about me as he seemed, I 176

Kate Brauning

knew I wasn’t serious about him. But if he was serious, using him to get over Marcus wasn’t fair of me. I sipped my coffee and waited.

He leaned back in the red diner chair. “People are worth noticing. If I’m taking the time to go out with you, I’m wasting it if I don’t notice those things. You think it’s weird?”

I finished half my coffee and relaxed into my seat. “No.

It’s nice, actually.” So far, he was a good date. Since I hadn’t ever been on a legitimate one with Marcus, this was the least worst date I’d ever had. “I wish I’d had more time to get ready, though. I wasn’t planning on wearing this.”

“You were going to dress up for me?” He leaned forward, his smile splitting his face.

“Of course I was.” Our food arrived. The waitress refilled my coffee and I poured syrup on my pancakes. Once she left, I said, “I didn’t know it was going to be for breakfast. I guess a dress would have been weird.”

“Well, I think you look great how you are.” He cut into his omelet.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure you tell all your dates that.”

He shrugged. “I try to. Most girls are beautiful, and you’re no exception.”

I didn’t have a comeback, so I poured more syrup on my pancakes.

I didn’t think I was ugly, but beautiful girls had a certain polish that I’d never been able to achieve. That straightened hair, luminous skin look. Sylvia, basically. Like everything else, I was just a step to the right or left of fitting in. A step that might as well be a gulf.

Will pointed his knife at my plate. “So, coffee with barely any sugar, but pancakes as an island in a sea of sugar. Got it.”

I ignored the observation and cut into my pancake island.

“So you work nights? That sounds like it sucks.”

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“Well, it sucks less than being evicted, so I deal.”

True. And practical, which I appreciated. I wanted to ask him about not living with his family anymore, but that didn’t seem like a first date question. “You hadn’t met Claire before, had you?”

He shook his head. “I mean, I’d seen her around. What’s she like?”

“We get along. She’s louder than I am.”

He grinned. “I could tell.”

I’d never have Claire’s outgoing nature, but I didn’t want to.

If everyone was outgoing, the world would be a really annoying place. He leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs out. His leg touched mine, and I instantly thought of Marcus. I poked my eggs with my fork and yellow spilled over the white.

“Do you read much?” I asked.

“Nah, not really. I watch movies of books, sometimes.”

“But not other movies?” I wasn’t getting the feeling he wouldn’t want to watch
Casablanca
with me.

“I guess I like the newer Bond films.”

I’d seen some of them. “You really have to see the Indian Jones movies, then. You’d like them.”

“Maybe we can do a marathon.” He stabbed a sixth of his omelet and swallowed it in one bite. “So, what was California like?”

“Different.” I didn’t miss it so much anymore, but I had for a long time. “The air smells different. The trees and grass and colors are different. Things are bigger and louder than out here.”

“I’ve always wanted to travel,” he said. “I don’t see myself getting to, but maybe someday.”

He shouldn’t give up like that. “Of course you can travel.

Make it happen,” I said. “You can totally do that.”

His smile made me glad I’d said it. I looked down at my coffee. “Where would you want to go?”

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He was quiet for a moment. “I have no idea.”

I refilled my mug from the carafe.

“So,” he said. “I thought after breakfast, we could go to the park.”

“The park?” I looked up and his eyes were focused on me.

Intently. For a moment, I forgot what he’d said.

“Just to walk or something. I thought an elaborate date might weird you out, so I didn’t plan anything super fancy.

Should I have?”

I shook my head. If dating could be like this most of the time, I might not mind it so much.

Will paid, and we walked out to the car, where he opened the door for me again. It felt strange with him standing there waiting on me as I got in. No one had ever done that for me before. I’d never let Marcus.

Harris wasn’t a big town, but it took pride in its park. A bandstand with an acoustic shell presided over one end of the park, while a new fountain and koi pond stood at the other.

The library reading carnival was always on the green space held behind the bandstand.

Will parked and I got out before he could open the door. “I bet those fish don’t last long,” I said.

“Yeah. I’m seeing a gruesome end for them. Firecrackers.

Beer in the fountain. Something like that.”

More likely, children would climb in the water and give them heart attacks. We walked over to the fountain and Will put a quarter into the little stand that vended food pellets. He tossed them into the water one at a time while the fish surged around each dropping kernel.

He handed me a few pieces. The food smelled funny, but it was fun. One of the fish swam up to the edge near me and poked its mouth out of the water, making an odd gulping motion. I dropped the pellet and he seized it as it hit the water. I tossed in 179