Keep From Falling (Markson Grove Series Book 1) (6 page)

Looking at her beautiful face makes me want to ignore my feelings of guilt, but not for long. I sigh and I ease her off of me, “Do you mind just cuddling this morning?”

She nods uncertainly, “Ok.” She turns on her side to face me and holds her head up with her left hand. “What’s up?”

I kiss her. I appreciate that she gets me in a way that no one else can. I love that she knows when something is on my mind without me having to tell her. I just really wish, this one time, she didn’t see it.

“I love you,” I say, and I mean it wholeheartedly. This newfound attraction I have toward a guy is nothing compared to the deep, emotional bond Skylar and I share.

“I love you too,” she says, looking me over curiously. “Is something the matter?”

I want to say yes. I want to tell her about what happened last night, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Why should I hurt her for no reason? Looking at someone else and having thoughts about them is not cheating. Telling her would only bring on insecurities I know she wouldn’t be able to handle and she’d start to cut again. It’s not worth telling her, and it’s nothing anyway, I have no intension of pursuing it.

I force a smile and shake my head. “Nothing’s the matter. Just cramps. Not really feeling in the sexy mood today.”

“Gotcha.” She lays her head on my pillow facing me and continues to run her fingers through my hair as she hums the melody of a song we used to sing together when we were kids. Her face turns very serious, “maybe we should talk more about yesterday,” she suggests.

For a moment, my heart jumps into my throat because I’m wondering how she could possibly know about Evan. “What about yesterday?”

“You know, about making our relationship public.”

I let out a small sigh of relief. “Oh, yeah. Well, you were right, though. My parents won’t understand.”

She nods. “But I was thinking maybe we could just start small. Like, holding hands at school or something. They won’t find out about it, and even if they did, it would be easy to talk ourselves around it.”

I’m not convinced. “I don’t know,” I say. “Starting small still means people knowing, are you sure you’re really ready for that?”

“Maybe.” She lowers her eyes. “I just wish it were easier. I wish that people would see that love is love and what sex you are doesn’t matter.”

“Some people see that.”

“Not enough,” she replies, and I know she’s talking about Spencer and what happened when everyone found out about him and Mark Ambrose three years ago. There’s nothing I can say to that. People were cruel to Spencer and Mark… it was horrible. I wish it had turned out differently.

We both lie there for a while in silence, playing with one another’s hair and thinking about the possibility of coming out to our peers, until we hear movement from my parent’s room. Skylar jumps out of the bed and slides underneath as quickly as possible. This is also something that is typically done every morning when she sneaks in to see me for two specific reasons; one, being that she wasn’t given permission to be here and my parents are hard-core permission seekers; and two, being that she’s naked, which we think will probably lead to questions we aren’t ready to answer.

My mother opens the door as soon as Skylar is under the bed, comfortably hidden behind the bed skirt.

“It’s seven-thirty. Time to get up.”

I sit up in the bed hesitantly as if she actually just woke me. “I’m up,” I say groggily. “Shut the door, please.”

My mom listens to my request and shuts the door behind her. As soon as it’s closed, I get out of bed and hurry over to lock it. “Clear,” I whisper.

Skylar crawls out from under the bed, grabs her clothes, and slips them back on. She gives me a kiss on the cheek before sneaking back outside. “I’ll see you downstairs,” she says, and I close the window behind her.

I make my way downstairs to the kitchen about ten minutes later. As usual, Skylar is already eating a bowl of cereal, my dad is reading the sports section of the paper while drinking his coffee, and my mom is reading the news section.

“Good morning!” Mom says with way too much cheerfulness than anyone should have before eight in the morning.

I cringe.

Skylar looks up from her bowl of cereal. She attempts to hold back a giggle when she sees the look on my face.

“What’s for breakfast?” I ask.

Mom points to the countertop behind her with three boxes of cereal to choose from.
Lucky Charms
,
Rice Krispies
, or
Frosted Flakes
. Yuck. I hate cereal. “I’ll just have toast,” I mumble as I walk over to the toaster.

While I’m waiting for my toast to pop, Mom looks up from her paper and taps Skylar on the hand. “Do you need any money for lunch today?” she asks her.

Skylar shakes her head. “No, I’ll be fine. Thanks though.”

Mom smiles and pats Skylar’s hand a few more times before going back to her reading.

Skylar finishes her bowl of cereal and pushes it away from her. She gets up and moves over to the decorative mirror on the wall next to the table as I immediately take her seat.

Our morning routine is pretty consistent. Every morning, once Mom and Dad get up, the first thing they do is unlock the door for Skylar. She joins them for breakfast and is usually finished before I get downstairs. By the time I’m ready to eat, she’s moved to the mirror to do her makeup and I take her seat at the table. After that, we leave for school together. This routine rarely changes, aside from when either of us is sick.

“Another Gay Pride parade is scheduled to take place in Madigan City two weeks from now,” Mom says, looking up from the paper in disbelief. “Disgusting. I don’t understand why they have to go around marching like they own the world. Mental illness should not be paraded and embraced! What the hell is this world coming to?”

I look up from the toast I’m eating and steal a quick glance at Skylar. I notice her back stiffen, but she doesn’t turn to look at me.

My father lifts his eyes from his paper to shoot my mother a look of disinterest or distaste, but I can’t be sure which. “Get your head into the twenty-first century, Alice. You’re being a bigot.”

“What?” she replies defensively, although I’m not really sure why, she
is
being a bigot. And I know she knows it too. “It’s not normal Dean, you can’t tell me that you think it’s normal.”

He shakes his head but says nothing more, dropping his eyes back to the sports section in front of him.

“So,” Mom begins, apparently getting the hint and attempting to change the subject but unfortunately not changing it to anything better. “You girls haven’t told me anything about prom yet. Judy Ambrose from down the street told me the other day that her daughter has her dress already bought and her hair and makeup appointments already made.”

Skylar turns from the mirror and shoots me a quick look just as I do the same with her. “It’s only April,” I remind my mother.

“It’s the end of April and your prom is in June. Are you girls even planning on going?”

Skylar finishes applying her lipstick and turns to look at my mother. “I, for one, have no intention of going.”

“Ditto,” I say between bites of toast.

Mom looks annoyed with us. “What are you talking about? It’s prom. You have to go.”

“Why do we
have
to go? Mom, no offense, but you were a flaky cheerleader in high school, of course you liked that kind of shit. Sky and I don’t do dances.”

“Bree Anna Porter you watch your mouth!” My mom exclaims. Dad lowers his paper just long enough to point his finger at me and shoot me a disapproving look.

I let out an exasperated breath. “Sorry. But seriously, we don’t go to dances. We never have. Just because it’s a fancy one with all kinds of goofy dresses and shiny decorations doesn’t mean that it’s not a dance. It’s a dance.”

“But it’s your
last
dance.”

“We didn’t even go to a
first
one!”

Mom sighs. “Dean, would you talk to them?”

Dad looks over to Skylar and then me. “I don’t see why they would need to go, Alice.”

“Oh, you’re no help at all!” she hisses at him before turning back to us. “Wouldn’t you two want to take a couple of nice boys to prom? Bring them here and take some photos before you head off?”

Skylar begins to laugh and after a moment so do I.

“What?” Mom asks. “Why is that so funny?”

“Have I ever brought a guy home, Mom?” I ask pointedly.

“Well no…”

“And I don’t plan to start.”

“Well, what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that prom is a waste of my time and money. I don’t want to go to a dance with a guy,” I say as I take a swig of orange juice.

“Ok, well why don’t the two of you just go together then?”

I spit my juice out all over the kitchen table, as Skylar turns around with her mouth hanging open. I cough the juice for what seems like an eternity before I can speak.

“Why would you even suggest that?” I finally choke out.

“Well, I don’t know. Don’t some girls do that? You know, the ones who don’t bring dates?”

“Oh, you mean the real losers who can’t get dates, but
need
to go to a silly dance because it’s the most important thing in the world ever?”

Mom sighs and looks to Skylar for help. “Skylar, you know what I’m talking about right? Girls can go to prom solo these days, right?”

Skylar smiles at Mom politely. “Of course they can, Mom. But it’s just not for Bree or me. We don’t do dances. We never have.”

“Oh, I give up! I can’t believe that neither of you is interested in what, essentially, is a girl’s most anticipated event of their lives aside from their wedding day.”

I frown.

I think again how I had always imagined my wedding day to be and now the possibility of that dream no longer existing. It disappeared the minute Skylar kissed me for the very first time because I’m devoted to her for always, and she’s devoted to me. We could never go to prom the way we would want to, on a date and in love, so why bother going at all?

“Overrated,” I say finally.

“Well, at least tell me that if a nice young man asks either of you to go you will at least consider it. Please.”

Skylar smirks but nods her head.

“Ok Mom,” I say dismissively. “We promise. Now let it go.”

“Fine, fine,” she says. “Oh, here’s a good change of subject for you two, the school called yesterday and granted your request to room together on your senior class trip next month.”

“Really?” I exclaim, shooting Skylar an excited look.

“That’s awesome news,” Skylar says with a tiny smirk.

My mother doesn’t notice the exchange at all.

While Skylar and I are walking to school hand in hand, I think again about the possibility of a future together. It’s something I spend so much of my time thinking about lately because it haunts me. I desperately want something I can’t have, and every day we get closer to graduation, I become more and more aware of that fact.

I want to be able to come out to my parents and tell them that Skylar and I are in a relationship. In movies, parents always come around in the end and everyone lives happily ever after. But I know that my life is not a movie. Mom would reject Skylar and life would change in an instant. I’m not sure how Dad would react. I can tell he doesn’t share her views, but that still doesn’t mean he’d be all for it. It’s scary, really, because they’re my parents, they’re supposed to love me unconditionally, and maybe they still would… but they wouldn’t have to love Skylar. She’s right to be scared of their reaction; she’s lost too much already.

And then there is this strange and sudden attraction I’m now experiencing toward a guy. After all of this time never really feeling any type of sexual attraction toward the opposite sex, Evan Daniels comes into my life and I can’t stop blushing. I just can’t stop thinking about him, and it unnerves me to no end. I’ve never once referred to myself as a lesbian because I never thought a title was necessary to describe who I love emotionally and physically. But now, with all of this lusty attraction toward Evan stirring in my body, I’m suddenly trying to decide what to call myself. I have no clue what I am, and for the first time ever that bothers me.

We approach the school and as we do so, Skylar notices a couple of kids sitting on the front steps outside, she lets go of my hand.

“It’s Parker,” Skylar says, stopping dead in her tracks.

I look to the small crowd of druggie dirtbags off to the side of us and see Parker Michelson in the middle of the group telling some kind of asinine story. I watch him give his living shadow, Tris Gallagher, a fist bump before taking a long drag of his cigarette. I move to the other side of Skylar so that I am now in the way of her view of him. “He won’t say anything,” I say to her reassuringly. “You’re with me.”

She nods, regaining her composure. She knows I’m right.

More often than not, Parker will look passed Skylar when he is walking through the halls as though she doesn’t exist. Even when Tris makes rude remarks about her in front of Parker, he usually pretends he doesn’t hear him and keeps on walking by. But every now and then, when I’m not around mostly, he approaches her and brings up that night. When this happens the world around her seems to disintegrate. She becomes defenseless and her confidence disappears. He makes her as helpless as a child with one simple remark and I know he takes pleasure in it!