Keep From Falling (Markson Grove Series Book 1) (55 page)

Bree

When the bus arrives at the hotel that evening, it's nearly 5pm. everyone is annoyed, tired, and hungry. We all gather in the lobby as Principal Landry stands before us with a list of names in front of her.

“Boys on this side,” she says, pointing to one side of the lobby, “and girls on this side.”

We all separate, minus a few lingering couples who don't want to let each other go, the most noticeable of them being Skylar and Parker.

I watch their embrace, not really knowing what it is I'm looking for, but knowing that I want to see it in spite of how much it might hurt me. Parker has one arm around the small of her back; his hand cradling her hip while his other hand is gently cupping the side of her face. I see the dimples in his cheeks; a secretive smile he's sharing only with her. I can see the happiness that being with her gives him. She means everything to him. Every time I see them together I see how powerful their connection is with one another, and I'm always left with a sense of defeat lingering in my chest.

Skylar's arms are wrapped around his neck, her body pressed against his, her feet up on tiptoe so that she can reach his lips easily. Their eyes are both closed and they look peacefully happy. There is so much love in that embrace that even the chaperones don't interrupt the kiss to separate them. Their connection awes everyone who sees them interact with one another. They fit together in a way she and I never did. Admitting that, even only to myself, is painful.

I turn away, not being able to look at them any longer.

My eyes fall onto Evan then, and I see his gaze trained on me. He’s watching my reaction to Skylar and Parker unfold for him to pick apart as if I'm some sort of science experiment he is monitoring. He thinks he knows what's going through my mind, but I don't know how he possibly could since I have no clue myself. Because part of me looks at Skylar with Parker right now and feels incredibly happy for her. She's found a love of the truest kind with a person who lives and breathes only for her. That's not something everyone gets to find in his or her lifetime. It's a rare and beautiful thing, and I'm honestly happy for her. But then there's another part of me that is so heartbroken about the fact that Skylar couldn't find that kind of love with me. We never had that. We had love, sure, and we had attraction, but we never had that, and it sucks to come face to face with the realization of it.

Then there’s Evan. Right from the very first moment I laid eyes on Evan Daniels I’d wanted him. I wanted him to touch me and kiss me the same way that boys always touch and kiss girls in romantic movies. I wanted to experience that; I
needed
to experience that. There’s an undeniable connection between us that did stem from lust originally, like Spencer said, but it has grown into something loving now. I care about him, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that if given the chance, I can be happy with him.

“Alright Mr. Michelson, Miss Hale. You'll see each other again in less than thirty minutes. Come on,” one of the chaperones says, encouraging them to separate finally.

Skylar and Parker pull away from one another and as they do I hear a girl standing beside me, who I think is named Lacy, whisper to one of her friends, “What the hell does he see in her?”

“Besides her tits and ass?” her friend asks with a giggle. I take a deep breath, attempting to steady the anger building up inside of me.

“She's a freak! Have you ever seen her in the locker room without a shirt? She's covered in cuts, everywhere. Self-inflicted…so gross,” Lacy says.

I'm about to tell her off when someone from behind me beats me to it. “Shut the fuck up, Lacy,” the female voice says, and I turn around the same time Lacy does to see who it is.

Adrienne.

Lacy clears her throat and whispers something into her friend’s ear. They both laugh.

Skylar joins me then, putting her bag on the ground next to my feet. “Hey,” she says almost shyly. It's weird that this is where we are with each other now.

“Hey,” I say back, crossing my arms over my midsection. I’m attempting to keep the greeting as casual as possible, but I know it’s coming across as awkward instead.

We don't say anything else to one another as the chaperones gather together and begin calling our names. “Mr. Cooper is getting our room keys now. There are enough chaperones here for eight students each, so you'll all be assigned a chaperone and then he or she will bring you up to your rooms. Any questions?”

No one raises their hand, and so she nods at the first chaperone to proceed. He reads off a list of his eight students and once they are on their way to their rooms, the next chaperone moves to the front of the group and reads off his list. This continues on as everyone stands around waiting patiently for their names to be called.

One of the chaperones reads off Parker and Spencer's names together, meaning that they are roommates. I look to Skylar questioningly. “Did you know anything about that?” I ask her and she shakes her head, seemingly just as surprised as me. But I suppose it does make sense since it was probably Tris who was originally supposed to be Parker’s roommate and we all know that wasn’t going to happen anymore. I find myself wondering when it was that they decided to room with each other instead.

A few other chaperones call up their students and then, near the end of the list, Skylar and I finally get called.

I see from the corner of my eye a number of the girls standing next to us smirking and whispering, covering their mouths in surprise, but no one says out loud what it is they are obviously thinking. No one is quite sure what Skylar and I are anymore, in fact, most of them were never sure of what we were to begin with. But Kelsie, on the other hand, has a pretty good idea of what we are to each other, and her challenging brow, directed at me specifically, speaks volumes.

I pick up my bag from the floor and follow the chaperone to our wing of the hotel without looking back in Kelsie's direction. I don't need to feel more pressure with this decision than I already am.

Once Skylar and I are given our room keys and we are finally left alone, we both collapse onto our beds and lie there silently for a few minutes. I think we are both trying to decide exactly what it is we need to say to each other to make this situation a lot less awkward than it already is, and I don't think either of us knows where to start.

Finally, Skylar reaches into one of her bags and pulls out a bottle of vodka. That is exactly what I need right now. Skylar is a genius!

“Thank God!” I say, reaching for the bottle. “Do you have cream soda to go with it?”

She pulls out a few cans of cream soda and smiles. “What do you take me for?” she says with a twinkle in her eye, and it makes me laugh.

I hurry over to the door to make sure it's locked, as she makes her way to the windowsill where there are some glasses available. She mixes our drinks, and as I'm walking back to my bed, she hands me a glass.

I take a big gulp of mine and smile at her. She looks so happy. I haven't seen her this vibrant in a very long time.

“You seems happy with him.”

She smiles distantly, “I am really happy.”

“I'm glad.”

“What about you and Evan? Are you happy with him?” she asks, taking a big gulp of her drink. This is an uncomfortable conversation for us, but at least we're trying.

I wonder for a moment what I should say to her about Evan. We aren't doing well, and I want nothing more than to tell her all about it, but what if it just causes more distance between us? I don't want to take more steps back. I feel like we already have so much to make up for as it is.

“I think you know that we aren't doing great, considering we didn't even sit together on the bus,” I say to her finally.

“I didn't want to pry,” she replies, and I can see the pained look on her face. She feels bad for me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Probably not a good idea to talk about it with you.”

I watch her chug the rest of her drink and instantly pour herself another. “With enough alcohol, I'm pretty sure we can pull it off,” she says with an encouraging smile, but I can hear the uneasiness in her voice.

Is she worried about what I'm going to tell her? Does she already know that Evan wants me to choose between them? I wonder if Parker told her what he heard.

I can't tell her. Not yet.

“Since when are Parker and Spencer such good friends?” I ask, desperately needing to change the subject.

She exhales slightly, happy for the change of subject as well, at least for now. I think we both know this is a conversation that needs to happen eventually, but we just need a bit more time, and possibly a bit more alcohol too.

“Apparently it all happened while I was sleeping for three days,” she tells me with a little smirk. Their friendship seems to please her. It is nice to see that Spencer is making an effort with both Parker and Evan now, in spite of the fact that he wasn't thrilled about either of them entering into our lives in the beginning.

“Did Parker or Spencer tell you that I went to see you that first night?” I ask.

“Parker told me,” she says, letting her voice trail off. Something tells me that her conversation with him about it wasn’t a happy one.

“You looked so bad. I can't even tell you how destroyed I was to see you that way. You had me so worried. Why the fuck did he do it? Ellie said he was angry with Parker, is that true?”

“Yeah, he was trying to hurt Parker.”

“Why?”

She shrugs. “They had a falling out, I really don’t know much more than that.” I can tell it’s a lie, but I don’t let on, it’s not really my business.

“You made Parker promise not to bring you to the hospital?” I ask instead. “Do you know how pissed I was at you for that? He's not a doctor! You shouldn't have put that all on him.”

“I was in good hands,” she says with a direct certainty in her tone. “I don't think you realize just how far he will go to take care of me.”

“I'm starting to get a pretty good idea.” There’s conviction in my words that makes her examine my face closely. She's trying to figure out if I know more than she's told me. But the truth is, I don't think she has to tell me at all. Seeing the way he looks at her, like she's the only thing in the world that matters to him, and seeing what he did to Tris, his own best friend, in order to protect her. I can't help but be reminded of the night she was almost raped. I know he saved her, that much she's told me, and I'm starting to see just how far he will actually go to keep her safe…

As far as it takes.

“How much of an idea?” she asks curiously.

Should I elaborate on what I suspect happened? If she tells me the truth, does that put her in danger? She's been so adamant about keeping what actually happened that night a secret, but whether it's because she doesn't want me to know, or because it's too dangerous for me to know, I'm still unsure.

“I think he hurt your attacker that night. Bad, like how he hurt Tris… maybe even worse,” I say quietly. I don't want to say
kill
in case I'm wrong, but it's what I'm thinking and I hope she catches that.

“What would you think of him if I were to tell you that you’re right?”

“I honestly don't know. It really would explain your fear of him after that night, regardless of how much you cared about him before then. I've been racking my brain for weeks trying to figure out a reason why, if you were in love with him before that night, and all he did was save you, then why were you trembling in fear every time you would see him? I just couldn't figure it out. Until I saw Tris today. That's when I realized that he doesn't have a rational compass when it comes to you. And that's scary! Doesn't that worry you?”

Skylar takes another big gulp of her drink, finishing it off before walking over to the table to mix herself another glass. She looks like she's thinking over my question carefully before she decides to answer it. It's almost as if she's trying to decide what words she can say that will make me understand Parker in the same way that she does.

Her phone beeps from across the room and she moves toward it. As I watch her reading the text over, I decide that it must be from Parker. She's smiling a goofy grin, and then texts a reply back to him. She tosses the phone onto the bed next to me.

“I guess everyone's at the hotel’s restaurant downstairs. I told Parker we are still talking and will join them after. Is that ok with you?”

I nod. “Yeah. I'd like for us to get a chance to talk about everything first,” I reply, taking another drink.

“Ok good. So, back to your question, does it worry me? It doesn't. I don't know why, because I'm not stupid, I know that Parker's a walking disaster. But he's devoted to me, Bree. He needs me like he needs air to breathe. I can't explain my comfort with him except that I feel like he's meant for me. He tattooed my name on his body, you know. It's completely crazy! But I love him for it. Maybe that makes me completely crazy, too. I don't know. I just know that he would never hurt me. Ever.”

“If you say so.”

“Trust me, I have pretty good judgment on who I give my heart to. I think you're proof of that.”

My heart skips a beat, I look up at her and she smiles. She's so beautiful. Even with her week old gashes and now yellowish bruises, her beauty radiates from her.

I clear my throat. “Do you miss us at all?”

“Of course I do. Every single day,” she replies, looking me right in the eye as she says it so that I know there is no ounce of uncertainty there.

I feel my lower lip begin to tremble. I wasn't expecting so much honesty in her reply. I get up from the bed and walk over to the table to fill my glass with more vodka and soda.

Skylar sees how emotional that confession makes me and she follows me to the table. She takes my hand into hers and squeezes it tight. “I’m sorry. Was it wrong that I said that? I thought you wanted honesty.”

“Skylar,” I say, gently pulling my hand from hers. “I don't know if we should… be honest like that anymore.”

She bites down on her lip and looks me over closely, trying to understand why I would say that. Eventually, her uneasy look contorts into a frown. “I don’t understand what you mean,” she says.