Fall From Love (19 page)

The next thing I
remember is seeing a bright light spilling in through the living room window.
When I open my eyes, I see Holly still lying across my chest, still fast
asleep. Without trying to wake her, I move just a little and feel a familiar
pain shoot up through my lower back.
Damn couch
. I really think Josh has
a point; we should totally burn this thing. A few moments later Holly finally
stirs and, when she opens her eyes, confusion is spread out across her face.

“Morning,” I say,
smiling at her.

“What? I fell
asleep over here?” she asks, looking around.

“Yeah, when we were
watching a movie.”

“Did you say
morning? Morning!” she screams and pushes herself up off my chest. “Oh, my God,
what time is it?” She hops off the couch and begins to run around the living
room, looking like a crazy person. “Have you seen my purse or my phone? Oh, my
God; oh, my God; oh, my God.”

“Hey, calm down,” I
tell her. I’m only halfway awake and she’s starting to freak me the hell out.

“Calm down? I have
a test in Dr. Langford’s class in...” she finally finds her phone and checks
the time, “thirty minutes! Oh, my god, I’ll never make it.”

I lean up slowly
from the couch, gripping my lower back. “You’ll make it. Just take a quick
breath.”

She doesn’t listen
to me and begins scrambling, pulling her shoes on and slinging her purse across
her chest. “I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta go. I can’t believe I fell asleep. I’m so
freaking screwed.”

I don’t even have a
chance to tell her goodbye before she’s out the door. “Well, that was
interesting,” I say to myself, falling back onto the couch.

❧

After the way my
morning started with Holly freaking out, the rest of the day goes by without
incident. I’m back at home, trying to keep myself busy with laundry and
homework, as well as trying to keep my mind off Holly and the feelings I’m
starting to have for her.

“Hey, is your
family still planning on coming over for Thanksgiving?” Josh asks, poking his
head in my room.

“Uh, yeah, I think
that’s the plan.”

He nods. “Cool,
I’ll tell my mom and hopefully she’ll get off my back about it. She said she
tried to call your mom, but can’t get in touch with her.”

“Yeah, she’s been
busy with doctor’s appointments. I’m pretty sure we’re coming, though. When I
talked to her the other day, she was worrying about what kind of pie to bake.”

“Dude, you know my
mom’s gonna cook enough to feed us for like a week, right? Tell her not to
worry about it.”

I nod. “I’ll tell
her, but you know she’ll insist on bringing something.”

“So what’d you do
last night?” Josh asks, picking up the football that’s lying on my bed and it
catches me off guard. My first reaction is to lie. I’m not sure why, but I know
he’ll give me crap if I tell him that Holly and I hung out alone together. The
two of us rarely hang out by ourselves. Normally, it’s the four of us. Even if
I do end up telling him that she came over, forget about telling him that she
accidentally fell asleep on my chest... he’ll read way too much into it. Forget
it, I’m not saying anything.

“Not much. Just
hung out.”

He grins and nods.
“
Right.
So did this ‘just hanging out’ involve, I don’t know, a hot
brunette named Holly?”

Okay, so the stupid
grin on his face tells me that he already knows the answer to that question.
“Yeah, Holly came over and we watched a movie.”

“About time, man.”
He reaches over and slaps me on the shoulder. “I can’t believe the two of you
held out for this long. So was it combustible just like I thought or what?”

“You’re a moron,” I
say, shaking my head. “For us, watching a movie doesn’t mean making out. That’s
just a code word for you and Jenna.”

He shrugs, agreeing
with me. “I just don’t get you two, man. Jenna doesn’t, either. We knew
something was up when Holly didn’t come home last night and when she still
wasn’t there this morning.”

“How did you know
she was over here with me then?”

“I didn’t... it was
just a hunch I had. You just confirmed it, though.”

Chapter Twelve

Love isn't something you find. Love is something that
finds you.

~ Loretta Young

HOLLY

“Damn, what happened to you?” Jenna asks
as I walk into our apartment. She’s sitting at the bar, eating out of a bag of
chips. “You look like hell.”

Of course I look
like hell. I haven’t showered, washed my face, or brushed my teeth in over
twenty-four hours.

After waking up at
Carter’s this morning, I rushed to school and luckily made it to class before
the test in Dr. Langford’s class started. I tore through the door just as he
was handing out the test and, aside from the strange look he gave me as well as
the snickering from the rest of the class, nothing was said.

“Ugh, don’t ask,” I
groan, throwing my backpack and purse on the floor, take a few chips, and shove
them into my mouth. I also haven’t eaten all day.

“Did you leave
early this morning or something? I didn’t see you when I got up.”

I shake my head.
“No, I slept at Carter’s.”

Jenna coughs,
seemingly choking on a chip. “I’m sorry; I just thought you said you slept with
Carter last night.”

“
Over.
.. I
slept
over
at Carter’s,” I exaggerate the words and glare at her.

She shrugs and a
smile spreads across her lips. “Hey, no judgment here. I’m cool if you want to
sleep with or over at Carter’s.

I nudge her and she
falls over, almost completely tumbling off the stool she’s sitting on.

“I suspected you
were over there anyway, I was just curious to see if you’d tell me the truth,”
she says, popping another chip in her mouth.

“Why would I lie?”

She shrugs. “I
don’t know. I’m glad you didn’t, though, things could’ve gotten ugly if you
did.”

❧

Later in the
day—after taking a shower and brushing my teeth—I curl up on my bed and take
out my notebook. It’s been a while since I’ve written anything in it, mainly
because nothing other than depressing thoughts are going through my head. The
past couple of months, though, I’ve changed, my outlook on a lot of things has
changed.

As I stare down at
the empty page, so many feelings, words, and thoughts run through my head. When
I used to write, I used to think a lot about love, a lot about life, and a lot
about Adam. Now, I mainly focus on the emotions that have been consuming me over
the past few months; what I’ve gone through. I can’t deny that Carter’s face
pops into my head a lot, too. The past few months he’s been stirring up
feelings inside me I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel again.

After feeling
satisfied with the few lines I have written, I close my notebook and put it
back in the top drawer of my nightstand. Just as I reach over to click off my
lamp, my phone chimes and I reach over to grab it, already knowing who it is
before I see the screen.

Carter:
Did you
make it to ur test?

Me:
Just in
time. Sorry I ran out on you like that.

Carter:
Glad you
made it. Next time we’ll set an alarm.

Me:
Your couch
is horrible to sleep on.

Carter:
You were
sleeping mostly on me.

My whole body warms
as I remember waking up on his chest this morning and how good it felt.

Me:
Sorry about
that.

Carter:
Don’t be
sorry.

Me:
Goodnight.

Carter:
Goodnight,
Holly.

Before shutting off
my light, I scroll back through our messages, smiling and feeling an ache in my
chest that I’m not sure how to define. Carter is a friend—a good friend—but I
can’t help wondering if maybe I want him to be more.

❧

The rest of the
week is fairly uneventful. It’s Friday afternoon and I find myself getting
excited for the weekend since we have the entire next week off for Thanksgiving.

As I jog across the
courtyard, the snowfall begins to pick up and, by the time I reach my car, it’s
really coming down. When I get on the main road to head back to our apartment,
I’m leaning forward and both of my hands are wrapped tightly around the
steering wheel. The snow is so thick I’m having trouble seeing if the stop
light ahead of me is red or green. I’m just about to comment on how things
can’t get any worse when I hear a loud thud come from the front of my car. A
small vibration shoots through the steering wheel, causing my hands to shake.

“You’ve got to be
freaking kidding me? This is so not happening right now,” I say, gripping the
wheel even tighter. Slowly applying pressure to the brake, I veer off to the
side of the road. Once I have the car in park, I hop out to inspect the loud
noise that was coming from my car. The snow is coming down hard, but I squint
and see as plain as day that my right front tire is completely flat.

“Crap,” I breathe.
Once I’m back in my car, I crank the heater and lean my head back against the
seat, trying to think of what to do. I fumble through my purse, digging for my
phone. There’s a good chance I have roadside assistance, I think I remember my
dad telling me that one day. Curse words are flying out of my mouth and
frustration takes over when I turn my purse upside down and dump it in the
passenger seat next to me.
Disgusting
is the next word that pops into my
head as I realize that my purse should be declared toxic. I sift through the
trash, finally finding my phone and insurance card. Turning it over, I find the
number for roadside assistance. After two rings, a stupid automated machine
picks up. Following the prompts I finally get to the point of annoying music
playing in my ear, hoping that an actual human will come on the line soon.

Ten minutes pass
and I’m tempted to hang up and just hitchhike. “This is ridiculous,” I say,
shaking my head.

My eyes scan over
the trash in the seat next to me and a wadded up piece of something catches my
eye. When I remember what it is and who gave it to me, it sends a sharp pain to
my heart. Balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder, I take the wad and
spread it across my knee.

Call if you need
anything
is written across the
napkin. Carter’s name and number are written below it.

“Hi, this is Peggy,
how can I help you?” a human voice comes on the line and relief washes through
me.

“Oh, yeah, hi. I
have a flat tire and I’d like some help with it.”

“Sure, we can help
you with that. Let me just pull up your account.”

I give her all of
my information, my location, and she tells me that someone will be here to
assist me within the next three hours. Three hours? Three freaking hours? Three
freaking hours of sitting here, stuck on the side of the road in the middle of
a freaking snow storm? Great. Perfect.

I bang the back of
my head against my headrest and then glance back down at the napkin that is
spread out across my knee. As I stare at the words, I can’t help realizing how
much I’ve changed since that night he gave this to me. It’s only been a few
months, but I am no longer that sad and lonely girl. Sure, there are still dark
days here and there, but for the most part, my days are filled with
happiness... and I owe a lot of that to Carter. He has become someone that I
trust and consider a close friend.

Glancing out my
window, I see the dark grey sky and snow falling outside my window. I glance
back down at the napkin and try to remember if he has class on Friday
afternoon. I’m pretty sure he does, but for the life of me, I can’t recall what
time he gets out.

Against my better
judgment, I call him anyway. It rings five times and then goes to voicemail.
Even though I don’t plan on leaving him a message, I listen to his voicemail
anyway, just to hear his voice.
You’ve got it pretty bad, Holly,
I tell
myself
.
A few seconds later my phone chimes.

Carter:
In
class. Saw u called. What’s up?

Me:
Wanted 2
talk. Flat tire. Waiting on roadside assistance.

Carter:
Where r
u?

Me:
On the
corner of 18th and Columbia.

Carter:
Be there
in a few.

Me:
No! I’m
fine. I didn’t mean to bother you.

I stare at my
phone, waiting for his response, but it never comes. A part of me hopes that
when he got my text he decided to stay in class. There’s another part—the
selfish and lonely part—that would love some company right now.