Don't Fall (9 page)

“Those look good,” I said, eyeing the raspberries, my personal favorite.

“Yes, we really love our holidays around here,” the woman said proudly.

“It’s only July first,” Zander said.

I shot him a dirty look. He responded with a look of complete bafflement. I rolled my eyes, and turned back to the woman behind the counter. “I’d love one, Denise,” I said, noting the name on her pin. She handed it to me with a big smile on her face. The paper was blue with little white stars on it. So cute. Zander took the same, even though he apparently thought it was not right to celebrate the Fourth of July on the first.

We sat down, and I plucked a raspberry off the top and popped it into my mouth. “Oh, I brought the photographs I took.” I lifted them out of my bag and tried to hand them to him.

Instead of taking them, he just stared at me, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“What?” I asked, wiping my mouth with a paper napkin, hoping I wasn’t covered in frosting.

“Do you ever photograph yourself?”

“No.”

“No?” He raised his eyebrows and snickered at me.

“Nooo,” I said, drawing out the word and shaking my head.

“Why not?” He put his elbows on the table and leaned toward me, taking my hand that was not holding a cupcake. “I can’t imagine a more beautiful subject.”

I could feel my cheeks getting warm as I looked down at the pictures in my hand and scoffed.

“I do not photograph well.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, my mom has plenty of pictures that have been taken over the years to prove me right.”

“Maybe you just need the right photographer.” He started tracing little lines up and down the side of my hand with his finger, causing goose bumps to run wild up my arm. “I happen to know a young woman who is very talented with a camera.”

“And how exactly would I accomplish taking my own picture?”

“I’m sure your camera has a timer on it.”

I shrugged. He was right, but I had no intention of using it.

“Or you could let me photograph you.” His dark eyes sparkled with so much mischief, if I hadn’t been blushing before, I was then. I loved the way Zander made me feel, but it scared me some, too. Actually, that was one of the things I loved about it. As much as I’d always enjoyed reading romances, I’d never fully understood them. I thought I had, thought I understood longing. But I was so far off base.

I longed for Zander in every way. I wanted to be with him all the time. When I was with him, I wanted to be closer to him. And I wanted it to last forever.

Chapter Fourteen

Zander

When we finished our cupcakes, Anya showed her photos to Denise, the bakery owner. She raved over them as Anya beamed, leaving me free to keep my mouth shut. Which was good, because it was hard for me to rave over pictures of cupcakes and table settings. But Denise seemed to be really impressed.

“I tell you what, Anya, you let me blow these up and display them, and I’ll give you free cupcakes for the rest of the summer.”

“Oh no, you can just have them.” Anya shook her head, her cheeks turning a beautiful shade of pink. Denise hugged her, and insisted on the free cupcakes.

Anya was on cloud nine the whole way back. “I keep telling you, you’re very talented.” I really wasn’t just sweet-talking her. I might not get cupcake pictures, but I could tell she was good.

“Oh, you only say that because you like me.” She looked up at me and grinned. I kissed her nose.

“I do like you.” We stopped in front of her house. “Is it okay if I come over again tonight?” I whispered, grabbing her other hand and turning her around to face me. She bit her bottom lip, but her smile curled up anyway.

“Okay.” She quickly kissed my cheek. “Tonight.” She darted up the steps and through her front door.

When I met her later in her backyard, her braids hung loose down either side of her face. She had on a yellow T-shirt, jeans, and a look of mischief. We stumbled through the woods, holding hands, kissing, and tripping over everything because we were too busy looking at each other to watch where we were going. We fell into the clearing and tumbled to the ground, quickly wrapping each other up in our arms.

I slipped one hand behind her head and kissed her, running my other hand up and down her arm, her skin soft beneath my fingers. Her body pressed against mine, and I thought I might explode. I could hardly breathe, but I didn’t want to stop, didn’t want her lips away from mine.

It was Anya who finally pulled away, gasping for air.

“Stop, stop,” she said, laughing and stroking my cheek. I squeezed her tighter against me and kissed the top of her head, then loosened my grasp and leaned back on the long grass. She fell back, too, her head landing on my arm, and put her hand on her chest.

“My heart is racing.”

“Mine, too.” I took her hand and placed it on mine instead, so she could feel it pounding below her fingers. She shifted up onto her other elbow and stared down at me. Her long braids were coming undone, and her cheeks were flushed. I’m sure mine were, too; my whole body was on fire. I forced myself to stay put even though all I wanted to do was wrap my arms around her and pull her to me again.

Half a moon shone down on us, and I was struck again by Anya’s beauty. Her blue eyes were dark and filled with joy. My heart was so full I thought I might burst. I lifted my head off the ground and kissed her gently.

The words
I love you
were right behind my lips.

“I noticed something about you today,” she said, tracing my jaw with her finger.

“Really? Was it that I’m unbelievably charming?”

“No,” the word clipped short by a laugh. “No,” she said again, shaking her head, which caused her braids to tickle my chest. “I know if you’re going to check a book out or not, just by looking at you.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.” She stuck her chin out a little, proud of her discovery. “When you read the back, if you like what it says, you tap the cover three times. If you don’t, you only tap it twice and put it back on the shelf.”

“I do not,” I said with a laugh, pushing myself up to a sitting position. She leaned back and crossed her legs.

“You do, too.”

“Well, I’ve noticed some of your idiosyncrasies, too.” I twirled the end of her braids.

“Have you now?” She raised her eyebrows and tried to keep from smiling, but I could tell the corners of her lips were fighting to turn up.

“Yes. I’ve noticed you always wear something yellow. It might be something small, like your shoes, or a necklace. But there’s always something.”

She bit her lip and crinkled her nose.

“What I don’t know is why.”

“No, you don’t. Do you?” She let go of the smile she’d been holding back, and it spread across her face.

“Come on, tell me.” I gently tugged her braid once, then let it go. “Is it for good luck? Your favorite color?”

She turned around and leaned back into me. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and breathed in the smell of her. Lavender and, at the moment, grass. Little green pieces stuck out of her braids.

“When I was little, my mom gave me a necklace with a little yellow sun on it. She said it was so I could always have a bit of sunshine with me. I don’t know what happened to it. I suppose I lost it, or broke it at some point. But I liked the idea of always having a piece of sunshine.” She shrugged against my back. “Yellow reminds me of that.”

“That,” I said, running my hand down one of her braids, “is perfect.” I gave it a light tug, pulling her face toward me. “Because I always feel like I have a piece of sunshine whenever I am with you.”

Anya

When we stepped inside Baby Cakes the following Tuesday, my pictures hung on the wall. I gasped. I had emailed Denise the pictures the Tuesday before, the day I’d taken them, but I hadn’t expected her to get them blown up and framed and everything so quickly. In fact, part of me had really thought she was just being nice. Seeing them blown up and framed on the wall made my chest swell.

“Don’t they look great?” Denise asked when she saw me, bustling over. “I think this one’s my favorite.” She pointed at a close up photo of the cupcake trays. Pinks and purples and flowers and polka dots. It was my favorite, too.

She hugged me and pulled me to the counter. Zander just laughed and followed. “Now, what kind would you like today?” she asked, waving her hand over the glass case.

It was always hard to pick. There were some piled with fresh fruit, others with fluffy frosting in all different colors. Chocolates and vanillas with exotic flavors mixed in. Zander leaned over my shoulder and pointed to a yellow frosted cupcake with a little violet flower on top. “What’s that one?”

“Lemon gumdrop. It’s sweet and tart, perfect for summer.”

“You know, yellow is one of my favorite colors.” He shot a smirk back at me.

“I’ll have that one, too. Thanks, Denise.”

We took our cupcakes to the table beside the window.

“So,” Zander said, slowly peeling back the cupcake wrapper, “I’ve been meaning to ask you…” He paused, his eyes still glued on the fondant violet. “Have you, um, talked to your mom about us yet?”

“Not yet.” I turned and looked out the window.

“Okay.”

“I will. I promise.”

“I know.”

We bit into our cupcakes, tension thick between us. My cupcake was tasteless as I chewed, my fingers tugging at the yellow ribbon tied around the waist of my dress.

“Can I have your phone number at least?” I could tell he was trying to sound casual, but irritation laced his words.

“Zander…”

“What? It’s not a ridiculous request, Anya.”

I looked up at the sharp sound of his voice. His jaw was flexed tight. “I know. It’s not. But I told you, I can’t use my phone for anything other than emergencies.”

“What if it was an emergency? What if I needed to get a hold of you?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Anya,” he sighed, the tension flowing out of his face. “I just want to be able to have a real relationship with you. Not just Tuesdays and Thursdays and an occasional night in the woods,” he said quietly, leaning forward.

“I like our nights in the woods.” I slid my hand across the table toward his, but my heart stopped cold when he pulled his hand away.

“That’s not the point, Anya. Please. Talk to your mom.”

“You know why I can’t,” I snapped.

“You’re going to have to eventually. We can’t just sneak around forever. I’d like to be able to take out my girlfriend. Introduce her to my friends. Blake is dying to meet you. I get crap all the time that I made you up.”

I kept forgetting he had a whole life outside of our relationship. Probably because I didn’t. I hated to think about him out there having fun with other people. Meeting other girls.

“Well, I’m sorry. Perhaps you’d be better off seeing someone else then.”

“Knock it off, Anya.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to stop being a chicken and talk to your mom.”

Seeing him so angry hurt, like a weight pressing on my heart. His eyes were dark and serious. My face flamed. I wanted to crawl under the table and pretend we’d never had this conversation.

He was right. I was a chicken.

“I have to go.” I pushed the chair away from the table, grabbed my book bag, and ran out the door. I was already halfway down the street when I heard him call my name. I didn’t turn back.

I sat in my room, hating myself and staring at his pictures until my mom called me down to dinner. She asked why I seemed upset. I almost told her. I opened my mouth, but with Lauren’s eyes staring down from her portrait, I couldn’t push the words out.

Chapter Fifteen

Zander

I hadn’t meant for it to become a fight. I hadn’t even realized I was mad until we got talking and it seemed like she would never tell her mom.

I felt awful. I didn’t want to make her upset, and I couldn’t even call and talk to her. Tell her I was sorry about the whole stupid thing. But then I’d think about
why
I couldn’t call her, and I’d get mad all over again.

On one hand, I was falling in love with Anya. On the other, it felt like some sort of make-believe romance. Blake and my parents doubted she even existed.

I might have given up on the whole thing, but Tuesdays and Thursdays with Anya were better than any time I’d ever spent with any other girl, and twice a week was better than nothing. So I waited impatiently for Thursday to roll around again so we could fix it.

I thought about sneaking to her house, but worried she wouldn’t come down. I’d typed up a bunch of emails, trying to explain why I’d gotten so mad, but it just sounded like I was still yelling at her. No, I needed to talk to her in person.

I knew she’d show up at the library on Thursday. At least, that’s what I told myself over and over again all Tuesday night and through Wednesday.

I got to the library twenty minutes before it opened. I even beat Shannon there.

“You waiting on Anya?” she asked as she unlocked the front door.

“Yeah.” I nodded at the ground. I glanced up, and she was staring at me, shaking her head.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but you better not hurt that girl.” She zipped through the doorway and hopped up the steps, brown and blue hair bouncing. She didn’t give me a chance to tell her that Anya hurting me was far more likely.

I followed as she grabbed a cart of books and pushed it through the aisles, sticking them back on the shelf one by one. “I don’t want to hurt her,” I explained. “But I don’t want to be just a Tuesday, Thursday thing, either. Know what I mean?”

The look Shannon gave me made it clear she didn’t. “You don’t have to explain it to me. Tell her,” she said, pointing over my shoulder. I spun around. Anya was standing just inside the library, her cell in her hands.

“Anya,” I said, and she looked up at me, her brows knit together over her blue eyes. I wanted to run to her. I had been ready to apologize, ready to forget it all, but I couldn’t. Seeing her there, surrounded by the same old dust-covered books, texting her mom, my throat clenched shut and something surged tight in my chest.