Don't Fall (17 page)

“Yes, but I have to change into my dress, and I don’t want you to watch.”

“You realize how ridiculous that is, right?”

She crinkled up her nose and smirked. “Yes. But I don’t care. Get out.” She pointed at the door. I laughed and gave her a curt nod.

“As you wish.”

Anya

Zander’s house was in the middle of town. It was small and cute with a white picket fence around it and a big front porch. The grass was short and green, and along one side of the house ran a long-forgotten garden filled with colorful flowers and green weeds.

My heart fluttered with nerves as Zander led me up the front steps. He turned the doorknob, and I took a deep breath. When he flung the door open, his mom was already standing there, grinning at us.

“Hi! You must be Anya,” she said, wrapping her arms around my shoulders and giving me a huge hug. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting the girl who’s made Zander walk around all summer with big cartoon hearts in his eyes. Now, let me look at you.” She gripped my shoulders and held me out at arm’s length. She shook her head, and my throat tightened, scared she was going to say she didn’t approve of something. “Absolutely beautiful,” she finally said, and I let out a sigh, my cheeks warming.

“Come on, Mom, you’re making her uncomfortable.” Zander took her arm and made her release me.

“Well, I would think she’d be quite used to people calling her beautiful.” She winked at me and I grinned. She took my hand and led us into the kitchen. It was open and light, with big windows along one side. The cupboards were painted a light shade of green, and there was a large oak table with more chairs around it than we’d need. Sitting at the head of the table was a man who looked a lot like Zander, only older.

“Nice to meet you, Anya,” Zander’s dad said, smiling up at me. “Come sit down.” He gestured to the chair to his left, and I sat down next to him. Zander sat next to me, and his mom took the chair across from me, on her husband’s right.

“I hope you like pork chops and stuffing,” he said. “Emily has made enough for twice as many people.”

“Oh stop,” she said, smacking his shoulder. “I like to cook a lot.” She turned to me. “It’s always nice to have leftovers.”

She insisted on dishing us up and served us each a plate practically overflowing with food. It looked amazing and smelled even better, the steam rising off of it until the aroma filled the room. We talked and ate and laughed and it was wonderful. They were both so nice and welcoming; I never once felt horrible or uncomfortable or out of place.

When we finished, I helped her clear the dishes, and Zander’s dad led him out into the living room. I rinsed gravy off of one of her pale pink plates and held it out to her, but she grabbed my wrist and locked eyes with me.

“I just wanted to tell you how nice it is meeting you. You’ve made my son very happy, and I can see what he sees in you.” Then she let go of my wrist and took the dish, placing it carefully into the dishwasher. My eyes filled with tears. She was so willing to accept me, simply because Zander cared about me. Why couldn’t my mother be as kind? I sniffed, blinked back the tears before she could see them, and rinsed the rest of the dinner dishes.

As we walked back to Zander’s apartment—I couldn’t quite think of it as
our
apartment—I decided how I wanted to deal with my mom. When we reached the building, I stopped.

“You okay?” Zander asked.

“Mm hmm.” I nodded. “I’ll be up in a minute. Can I borrow your phone?” He handed it to me and squeezed my arm before heading inside. With shaking fingers, I dialed my mom’s number.

“Anya? Where are you?” she asked as soon as she answered the phone.

“It’s me. I’m staying with a friend.”

The silence from her end of the phone hurt my ears. “With that boy?” Each word sounded like it had been forced out of her mouth.

“His name is Zander.” I took a deep breath. No more lies. “And yes. That’s who I’m staying with.”

“Anya, get home right now or so help me—”

I cut her off, not yelling but speaking loud enough to stop her. “I’m going to come by the house tomorrow to get more of my things. If you want to talk, we can. If you want to lock me in my room, I will bring Zander with me.”

It was a warm night, but the longer the phone stayed silent, the colder I got. “Fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She hung up.

Chapter Thirty

Zander

Anya tossed and turned all night. I tried to wrap my arms around her, to help settle her, but she brushed them off and continued to spin in bed. She mumbled in her sleep, and I wished there was a way for me to soothe her nerves.

She was up the moment the sunlight broke through our window. I was too tired to move. I wrapped the blankets around myself and watched her pace around my room. She had a silent argument with herself, her arms moving, accentuating every unspoken point.

She leaned on the windowsill, the dawn lighting up her face and turning her hair gold. Her chest rose and fell with each deep breath. Her hands found the ends of her braids; she quickly took them down, ran her fingers through her hair, and slowly her face grew calm.

“Good morning,” I said, interrupting her thoughts.

She spun around, and her hand flew to her chest. Then she smiled, the brightest spot of the morning.

“I didn’t know you were awake.” She strode over and sat on the side of the bed next to me.

“I was watching you.” One side of her mouth curled up, but her cheeks grew pink. “You ready for today?”

She took another deep breath and nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

We got dressed and were hit by the smell of coffee as soon as we opened the door. Blake sat on the kitchen counter, coffee cup in hand. “Good morning.” She hopped down and took a step closer to us. “Here’s the deal. I let you have yesterday, but I get today. If we’re all going to be living together, Anya and I need to have some serious girl bonding time. I’m commandeering her.”

“You can’t commandeer my girlfriend.”

She grinned a big toothy grin. “Yes, I can. I’m a pirate.” She turned around and poured another cup of coffee. Looking over her shoulder, she asked, “Cream and sugar?”

“Yes, please,” Anya said softly. Blake turned back to the coffee, stirring in the extras. Anya looked up at me, crinkling her nose and biting her lip. She raised her eyebrows and I shrugged.

Blake turned around and handed Anya the dark red mug. “Come on,” she commanded, walking past her and into her room. Anya looked up at me, and I didn’t know if she was scared to go or not until she laughed and shrugged her shoulders.

“I guess I’ll see you in a little while.” She followed Blake into her room. I made my breakfast, a giant bowl of Lucky Charms, and went to sit on the couch in the living room when I heard the girls laughing wildly in Blake’s room. Suddenly I was very nervous about what they might be talking about.

“Hey,” I hollered, hitting the wall between the living room and Blake’s room. “No talking about me, okay?”

The laughter got louder.

Anya

Blake dragged me into her room, which was decorated with posters of bands I’d never heard. She plopped down on a funky, bright colored bedspread that matched the shag rug on the floor and patted the seat next to her. I swallowed, trying to pretend I wasn’t nervous, and sat down next to her.

Spending the morning with Blake was exactly what I needed. She treated me like an old friend right away, and it wasn’t long before we were laughing and sharing stories. She knew Shannon; they’d hung out before Shannon had graduated, but she hadn’t seen her much since.

She told me stories about Zander growing up, too. Being the youngest of five kids, he was always trying to find new ways to get attention. She promised to show me a video of him dressed like Danny Zuko, singing “Greased Lightning.”

It was fun getting to know her and learning more about Zander, but eventually I had to go face my mom. Zander offered to go with, but I told him to stay. I hoped she’d be willing to meet him eventually, but now was not the time. I had no idea how she was going to react, whether we’d get into a screaming fight or, more likely, not speak at all. Either way, it wasn’t something I needed him to witness.

I dragged my feet up the steps to my house while my mom watched from the window. She opened the door before I reached it. I stood on the stone steps with my empty suitcase. She stayed in the open doorway, her hands on her hips, her elbows almost touching the frame.

“Are you going to let me through?” I asked when she made no motion to move.

“No.”

She didn’t shout it, but it still nearly knocked me over.

“What?”

“The things in this house belong to me. Since you have decided that you are an adult, surely you can support yourself. Of course, if you find that you aren’t as grown up as you thought you were, you are welcome to come home and live under my rules.”

Chills ran down my arms like a flurry of snowflakes. I wrapped my arms around myself and searched her face. Her mouth was a straight, firm line, and her chin was high. But her eyes were scared. She held them steady on me, didn’t so much as blink. I could see the fear behind them, and she suddenly looked very, very small. Tears bit at the back of my eyes.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” I shook my head and tried to keep my voice steady. “I won’t come back to be locked away.”

She turned, looking at the doorframe. At nothing.

“I got a job at the bakery downtown. And I plan to finish school.” Angry as I’d been, I still wanted to make her think more of me. I wanted her to know I would be okay, not just to alleviate her worries, but to make her proud. But as she continued to ignore me, I realized I would have to settle for being proud of myself.

“You know how to reach me.” I left, and the moment I turned my back on her, the tears broke through and ran down my face.

Chapter Thirty-One

Zander

When Anya got back, her face was streaked with tears, and her suitcase was still empty. She gave me a brief account of what happened, but said she didn’t want to dwell on it. She spent the rest of the day rearranging my room.

The next morning she woke me with a kiss on my forehead.

“What time is it?” I asked. She was already dressed.

“Early. I wanted some time to clear my head before starting my first day on the job.” She puffed out her chest as she said the last part. I wanted to share in her enthusiasm, but I was still half asleep. “I’m going to take some pictures of the sunrise, then I’ll probably stop by the library to talk to Shannon. Are you going to come see me later?”

“Of course,” I mumbled, trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes. I started to sit up, but she pushed me back down.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll talk to you later.” Another quick kiss and she was gone.

Several hours later, I woke up, took a shower, and searched my room for my stuff. I had no idea where she’d put anything. Apparently Anya thought my socks and underwear deserved their own drawer.

Once I’d found my clothes, I headed to Baby Cakes. When I got there, a woman with long red hair stood on the sidewalk, peering through the window.

I took a deep breath, told myself to stop being a complete chicken, and approached her. “What are you doing here?”

She jumped, slapping her hand to her chest. She recognized me, and her eyes turned to dark slivers.

“Are you going in?” I asked, even though she hadn’t bothered to answer my first question.

“No. I’m not.” She turned to leave.

“She’d love to see you, you know.”

She froze, her back to me. For a second I thought she’d change her mind, come in, talk to Anya. She looked over her shoulder, first through the glass, then at me. “Tell Anya.” She paused and bit her lip. “Tell Anya she can come collect her things tomorrow.” Her foot came down hard on the concrete, and she walked away without another word.

Anya

She didn’t meet me at the door this time. I used my key to let myself in, and for a second I thought maybe she wasn’t even home. Then I saw her, sitting at the dining room table, holding a coffee mug and staring up at Lauren’s portrait.

I kept walking to my room. She said nothing to me, and my eyes filled with tears. I was thankful she was behind me and couldn’t see them. In my room I tried to fit as many of my clothes and my favorite books into my suitcase as possible. I’d slammed the lid shut and was zipping it up when I heard her behind me.

“I’m sorry, Anya.” Her voice shook. I turned around; she stood on the other side of the door, not coming into my room. How many times had she strode in without asking? Now she stood in the hallway. Her eyes glittered with tears.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to lock you away. I…” She looked up at the ceiling, then down at her hands. “I was just so scared to lose you. I wanted to protect you like I hadn’t been able to protect her. I didn’t want to fail you, too.” Her face twisted and the tears fell. I ran to her, wrapping my arms around her. I buried my face in her, and we held each other.

“Have I ever told you about when I adopted you?” Mom asked, breaking the silence. I shook my head. “I had planned to get an infant, but when I saw your picture, I just had to meet you.”

“Because of my red hair,” I said softly, thinking of the baby pictures of Lauren sitting next to mine on our mantel.

“What?” Mom asked, pulling away to look down at me.

I bit my lip, embarrassed for saying it. “My hair, it was more red when I was little. More like yours. I just thought…”

Tears lifted in her eyes again, and she shook her head. “No, that’s not why. It was your eyes.” She smiled. Her cheek lifted, pushing out a tear. “They were so bright and full of mischief. And when I met you…” She stopped and ran her hand over my cheek. “You were so bold, so full of life. It was selfish, but you were the bright light I needed to help me out of a very dark time. And then I did everything I could to put out that light.” She covered her mouth with her hand as tears ran down her face. “I just wanted to keep you safe. I never meant… I’m so sorry, Anya.”