Keep From Falling (Markson Grove Series Book 1) (4 page)

Bree

I arrive at work only five minutes before my shift starts, so I don’t spend any time talking with Spencer up front like I usually do. Instead, I hurry passed him and run to the back of the store where the staff room is located. Once I get to the door, I promptly punch the security code in the number pad above the knob and push my way into the room. I’m digging around in my backpack for my keys as I’m walking in the direction of my locker, when all of a sudden I smash into someone. The person’s phone drops out of their hand to the floor below and makes a loud cracking sound. I cringe.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” I say, dropping to the floor to pick it up.

The screen is completely busted. How the hell am I going to be able to pay for this? Judging by the make and model, it must cost at least three hundred dollars, if not more. “I didn’t see you, I was in a rush and I turned… I’m not sure…” I look up and my voice catches in my throat.

I’m looking at the most beautiful guy I’ve ever seen. He’s crouched down beside me now, reaching for his phone, but I can’t stop staring at him long enough to hand it over.

“Can I have it back?” he asks me finally. He doesn’t sound impatient, but rather amused instead.

I continue to stare into his dark brown eyes, almost mesmerized by how deep and soulful they are. His face is square, with so many handsome features I don’t know which one to focus on first. His eyes, his lips, his dimples, his hair; all perfect.

I realize what I’m thinking and instantly begin to blush profusely.

I hand him the phone. “I’ll pay for it,” I manage.

He stands up straight and I follow his lead, rising to my feet once again. He’s taller than I had originally thought, and I find myself looking up in order to see his face.

He shrugs. “It was old anyway.”

It doesn’t look old, it looks pretty new to me, but who am I to argue, he’s letting me off the hook and I should be grateful for that.

“Let me help pay for a new one,” I say. “It’s the least I can do.”

He smiles, showing off a fine set of beautifully straight teeth.
Oh. My. God
. What is wrong with me? I’m staring at his teeth now?

“I just might hold you to that,” he says as he stuffs the broken phone into his pocket. He begins to walk toward the door.

“Are you the new guy?” I blurt out, and instantly feel like an idiot for asking.
Of course he’s the new guy. You don’t know him Bree, so he must be the new guy.
I’m such an idiot sometimes.

“He laughs. “Is it that obvious?”

I guess he didn’t realize how stupid the question was, after all. Thank God.

“Not at all,” I stammer.
Seriously?
I shut my mouth, turn on my heels, and walk over to my locker.

“I’m Evan,” he says.

I shove my backpack into my locker, slam the locker shut, and turn to face him. His hand is extended out to me. “I’m Bree,” I tell him as I take his hand into mine. He makes a polite attempt at shaking my hand but his touch makes me freeze in place and my arm refuses to budge during the process, making for a very awkward, one-sided greeting. I take a deep breath and look up into his eyes.

We stare at each other for what seems like hours but is probably actually only a couple of seconds before he awkwardly lets go of my hand and returns his arm to his side.

This is so embarrassing.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bree. I’ve seen you around at school,” he says, not letting on about the embarrassing handshake, or lack thereof.

“Really?” I ask. How’s that possible? I’m sure if I had seen him before today, I would have remembered.

“Yeah sure, you go to Markson East, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have any classes together or anything, but I’ve seen you around.”

I nod. What else can I do? I’ve never noticed this guy until this very moment.

“But you’ve never noticed me, have you?” he asks slowly, letting the realization sink in. His cheeks turn a pale shade of pink. He’s embarrassed.

“We’d better get to the front of the store. We’re late,” I say, completely changing the subject. It’s not the best tactic, but it’s all I have at the moment.

I walk ahead of him toward the front of the store. This whole night is going to be a complete disaster. I can’t even talk to this guy, how am I supposed to train him?

“Oh good,” Spencer says. “You’ve met each other. Evan, Bree is going to be training you tonight.”

Evan nods. I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing I am, that I’m obviously not capable of civilized conversation, so how can I possibly teach him how to do his job properly.

Spencer turns to me and smiles from ear to ear. “What’s the matter with you, B? Your face is all red,” he points out, attempting to hold back a laugh. He sees how flustered I am, but I doubt he has any idea why.

I feel my cheeks burning.
Thanks a lot Spencer.
“I…well… it’s…” I stammer. I can’t seem to get anything out of my mouth that is even slightly understandable.

Spencer chuckles and looks to Evan. “I don’t know how you did it, but you made her speechless.”

I manage a small laugh that I swear sounds more like a squeak.

He looks me over questioningly. “What’s up?” he asks, his face growing a little more serious now. He knows the way I’m acting is completely out of character for me. I don’t notice boys. I’m not attracted to them; they certainly don’t make me flustered and act like an idiot in their presence, but Evan is obviously the exception to that and it feels very wrong.

Spencer is the one person who, not only knows about my secret relationship with Skylar, but also completely understands it because he’s been there too.

Back in the ninth grade, Spencer had a secret boyfriend for nearly six months before the whole school found out about them. It was a rough time for Spencer, but it was far worse for the guy he had been seeing. People already knew Spencer was gay, but no one ever suspected that Mark Ambrose, Markson East’s womanizing man-whore, could possibly be into guys. When people found out they were together, the backlash began and took an extremely dark turn when Mark decided to end it all by taking his life.

Spencer was beyond devastated, blaming himself for Mark’s death for years. He became closer to Skylar and me after that, focusing all of his love and devotion toward us.

“I broke his phone,” I blurt out, attempting damage control. He needs some sort of explanation for how stupid I’m acting.

“You broke his phone?” he repeats suspiciously.

“Accidentally. I bumped into him and he dropped it.”

Spencer smirks. “Well, not to be rude or anything guys, but I really have to get going, got a hot date waiting for me,” he says, shooting me a quick wink as he starts toward the door.

Skylar must have invited him over to hang out for the evening. I can’t help but feel jealous that I can’t join them. Spencer works most afternoons instead of evenings at the store now because he’s ahead in his classes, and had the opportunity of only taking half days until graduation, which he gladly accepted. His stepfather is wealthy and because of that, he doesn’t really need this job. But taking the afternoon shifts allows him to avoid his mother and stepdad as much as possible which is something he seems to need, though he’s never actually explained to me why.

I wish we had more shifts together like before, though. The evenings have been pretty lonely since he switched to afternoons, but at least Skylar has someone to hang out with while I’m at work. She’s currently unemployed now that the old hockey rink has been shut down. I know she’ll eventually look for something new, but she doesn’t seem to be in a rush.

As soon as Spencer walks out the door, Evan turns to me, smiling. “He seems nice.”

I nod shyly, avoiding his gaze.

I spend the next four hours showing Evan the workings of the store while trying to avoid eye contact, which is proving to be exceptionally hard since his eyes seem to be trying to make contact with mine. When it’s time to finally start shutting things down and to count the cash in the register, I allow myself to look at him.

“How long have you been living in Markson Grove?” I ask as casually as possible. I don’t want it to come across like I really need to know, but the alternative would be not bothering to ask anything at all, and that would make me seem like a careless bitch. I don’t want him to think I’m not polite either.

“Since ninth,” he replies.

“Oh,” I say. I’m a little embarrassed that he’s been going to the same school as me for the last three and a half years and I’ve never noticed him until tonight.

“We don’t really hang in the same circles or anything,” he adds as if he can read my thoughts.

“I don’t hang in any circle,” I reply, looking to the ground. And it’s not a lie either. Skylar and I don’t usually bother with many other people. Other than Spencer, that is.

“You’re always with your friend, though. You know, the cute Goth girl with the black hair.”

I jerk my head up and look him in the eye. It makes me feel uneasy that he calls Skylar cute. Is it because I don’t like other people looking at her that way? Or is it because I want him to look at
me
that way? Both possibilities are unsettling.

“Skylar. Yeah, she’s my bestie.”

“Yeah, I know that,” he says with a tiny half-smile.

He thinks Skylar is pretty. Or was it cute?

“You think she’s cute?” I ask. I’m not sure why I do it, but there it is, and it’s too late to take it back now.

He seems a bit caught off guard and thinks about the question a moment before responding. “Yeah, I guess she’s cute.”

I feel my heart sink. I
am
disappointed that he finds her attractive and not me.
What the hell is wrong with me?

“Oh.”

There’s a long silence and then he finally speaks. “I’m not looking for anyone to date. In case you’re trying to set me up with her or something. I… I don’t date.”

This extremely attractive guy ‘doesn’t date’? How can that be? He must have girls hitting on him left and right. Maybe he’s not into girls at all. It’s the only explanation I can think of.

“Oh… so you’re gay then?” I ask. I know I’m being overly curious, if not prying, but the question seems to come out before I even have a chance to notice that I’m asking it.

He immediately looks up from the money he’s counting. “What? No.” He shakes his head, “I’m not gay.”

Now I’m totally baffled. “So why don’t you date?”

“You’re asking some pretty personal questions for the first time we ever meet,” he points out instead of answering my question. He’s right too. It’s not any of my business. So I apologize.

“Nah, it’s ok that you asked. I’m just not really used to the question, I guess. Most girls don’t ask. Maybe they just assume I’m gay and leave it alone… I don’t know.”

I nod to show him that I’m still listening in case he wants to go on.

“I was hurt by someone. A
girl
,” he adds, putting emphasis on ‘girl’. “It left me… questioning a lot about who I let into my life, I guess.”

The idea of him being hurt and it evoking change makes me think about Skylar. I know what he means all too well, being hurt changed her too. “I understand how that can happen,” I tell him.

Parker Michelson has changed Skylar forever and her wounds are deep. They will always be inside of her now. I wonder, without even knowing what happened to him, how deep Evan’s wounds are?

Evan nods, seemingly surprised but content that I get it. He finishes counting the stack of bills. “Five hundred and fifteen.”

I write the amount down on my sheet of paper and go over to the computer to make a print off of our daily debits. I motion him over next to me to show him where to go on the computer to find the debit sales and get it to print out.

He’s standing really close to me now and our arms touch for a moment. I’m becoming increasingly aware of his body, of our skin touching and causing an electric current to flow through me. I feel tingles everywhere. Absolutely
everywhere
. This is so unreal. No one, not even Skylar, has ever made me feel this physically aware of their presence before. I pull my arm away.

“Sorry,” he says, noticing my sudden jolt. “Did I scare you?”

I laugh. “You just startled me. I didn’t realize you were so close.”

We finish closing the store and are out the door shortly after eleven thirty. I lock up and, after saying a quick goodbye to Evan, begin down the street toward the bank.

“Do you want me to walk you home?” he calls out after me.

I turn around and notice he’s jogging to catch up, so I stop walking. “I’m fine,” I say. “I don’t live far.”

“I would feel better if you’d let me walk you,” he says once he catches up. His chivalry makes me blush. This guy is an enigma. Is he hitting on me or just trying to be nice? I honestly can’t be sure.

“Well, I guess you can if you really want,” I say and then add as an afterthought, “You don’t have a car like every other guy in Markson Grove?”

He snickers. “I drive my mom’s when she lets me, which as you can see, she didn’t tonight.”

“I don’t have a car either, or a license, so I’m used to walking.”

He laughs.

When I reach the deposit box I use the key to open it. I throw the deposit envelope in and shut it hard, removing the key. I toss the keys in my backpack and we both turn around to walk toward my home.

“Where do you live?” he asks.

“Just at the end of Shaw Street,” I reply. “Close to the rink.”

“The one they shut down a few months ago?”

I nod.

“That’s, like, a twenty-minute walk from here. I thought you said you lived close.”

“Well, it’s not exactly far,” I say with a smirk. “You don’t have to walk me, you know. I’m perfectly capable.”

He laughs, “It’s fine, I’ll suffer through it.”

We continue to walk for the next twenty minutes, talking about school and what classes we are taking. His locker is apparently in the same hall as mine and I’ve never even noticed. This embarrasses me yet again, but he shrugs it off as if it doesn’t matter.

There is an awkward silence after that, and I take the time to wonder how many times he’s noticed me when I hadn’t noticed him. I look up at him. “Can I ask you something?”