Falling From the Sky (27 page)

“Besides,” he says, pulling away from me. “I was hoping to keep you through fall and winter because I’ve already been thinking about what I’m getting you for Christmas.”

He stretches out on the bed and reaches over to turn off his lamp. We’re in the dark again, the only light in the room emanating from the paused opening of
Titanic
.

“I have a question for you,” I say, lying next to him. I need answers before I can move on through this last horse date.

Micah turns over and props up on his elbow, waiting for me to ask.

“When you said you lied about the horses, you said, ‘I only thought you were hot.’ What was that about?” I ask.

He looks down at his bed sheet. “That was pretty harsh, wasn’t it?”

I nod but I don’t know if he sees me.

“I did think you were hot,” he admits. “But you were the first guy since Taylor who just really stood out to me. You were gorgeous, even doing your stupid penny jump shot. I had to say something to you or else you’d walk away, and I might’ve never seen you again.”

He finally makes eye contact with me in the glow of the TV. He looks back to the black sheet, and I think he’s truly embarrassed. I reach over and brush his hair back off of his shoulder then inch over closer to him.

“So why the horse story?” I ask him.

He looks at me again and shrugs. “I had to keep the conversation going,” he answers. “I just made it up as I went along, and I knew you wouldn’t accept my offer, so I wasn’t worried about it. And when you did, I had to improvise. I couldn’t tell you I lied and let you walk away.”

Nothing else matters in this moment. Not Taylor, not Brittany and her flavor of the season story. Not basketball or plane crashes or sick brothers and grieving moms. The only thing that matters is Micah and that I love him. And even if he won’t say it, I know he loves me too.

I pull him close to me and kiss his cheek then reach behind me for the remotes. I press play, and Micah cuddles up closer to me. I watch the yellowed people wave from the
Titanic
, and I don’t think Simple Gray Horse could’ve been planned any better.

Three hours, fourteen minutes, two DVD disks, and half a box of Kleenex later, Micah can barely breathe, and I feel like an idiot for crying as much as I did, even though Micah may have my mom beat on the
Titanic
tears. I hold him against my chest, letting his tears soak my shirt, and he keeps apologizing.

“You’re okay,” I tell him. We sit on his bed, and I run my fingers through his hair while he grabs more tissues, until he finally calms down and laughs at the fact that he’s been crying hysterically. Sometimes he makes no sense.

“I wish we could just run away together,” I say. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since the scene where Rose told Jack she was getting off with him when the ship docked. I wish we could take that leap of faith and know that we’d be okay as long as we were together.

“Where would we go?” Micah asks me.

I shrug my shoulders. “It’d have to be a road trip,” I say.

“Why’s that?” he asks.

“Because you’ll never get on a ship and I’m sure as hell never getting on a plane.”

Micah laughs even though he knows I’m completely serious about that.

“Road trips are cool,” he says, nodding in approval.

We lie on his bed staring at the glowing stars, talking about all the places we’d go and the stupid pictures we’d take when we got there. He agrees to go to NBA games with me if I’ll go to Disneyworld with him. He likes the idea of New York; I like the idea of Florida. And we both know we’ll probably never go anywhere that isn’t somewhere between Markham and Bear Creek.

“Stay with me tonight,” Micah whispers into my ear after we’re done joking about our future road trips.

I wrap him up in my arms and pull the blanket over us. “I didn’t plan on leaving.”

He cuddles up as close as he can. “Sometimes when I’m with you, I think that things can’t get any better,” he whispers.

And then I remember what I wanted to tell him in the first place. “It can get better,” I say. “I forgot to tell you, but I broke up with Samantha.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Two days from now, I’ll miss the way my shoes squeak against this gym floor. I’ll miss this ice box of a place they call the gym. I’ll even miss the stupid maroon falcon on the center of the floor. And I’m only dwelling on those minor details to keep from dwelling on the real things I’ll miss, such as a gorgeous guy named Micah and his carousel horses and everything else that comes in his package deal.

“Last game tomorrow,” Terrence calls out as he chucks a basketball toward me. “Anyone back home coming?”

I shake my head. “Just people here,” I say.

There was a time not too long ago when it bothered me that my mom and brother never made it to my summer games. Now I’d rather not have them here. I have Micah. I have Micah’s family of beautiful girls and a guy who drives a Krazy Korn van. I prefer it this way.

The basketball circles the rim before making the decision to fall through the net. Terrence was right about my three pointers. They’ve gotten better.

“King, McCoy,” Coach Bennett calls out from his office door. He nods inside, and I glance to Terrence, who is already headed in that direction.

My anxiety still shoots through the hoop and up through the roof every time the coach wants to talk. Sometimes it’s something as simple as, “Arc your arm this way for a better shot,” but just hearing him holler out ‘McCoy’ is all it takes to imagine the ‘No Homosexuals Allowed’ speech he’s yet to give me.

I sit next to Terrence on the green leather chairs across from Coach Bennett’s desk. There’s a mess of papers and playbooks scattered around and a few plaques lining the walls with random summer league awards.

The door closes, and Coach Bennett sits across from us. He picks up a few papers and pretends to study them. He already knows what he wants to say to us, and I wish he’d hurry up and say something about my three pointers or free throws to ease my nerves.

“You’re both about to be seniors, right?” he asks. He already knows the answer, but we nod and give the required ‘yes sir’ response.

He rambles off some stuff about improvement, our senior years, and then he jumps back on that ‘future’ bandwagon he likes so much. He pulls out two forms and hands them to us.

“Do you boys remember these?” he asks.

I study my scribbled writing. This is the application form I filled out last spring to hopefully get into this camp. Mom filled out all the technical stuff, but this was more of a personal survey.

“What do you think is your strongest skill?” “What do you think is your weakest skill?” “What areas would you most like to improve?” “Do you see basketball in your long-term future? If so, how?”

Terrence holds the same form, and we both nod in recognition. His handwriting is better than mine but much smaller and harder to read. I wonder if our answers are similar.

“I’ve had my eye on you two since day one of camp just from your answers alone, and you’ve both proven to be dedicated and hard-working,” Coach says. “I know a lot can change in a year, but I have an offer that I want to extend to you boys first.”

He doesn’t get directly to his point. He talks about extra funding and community involvement for a few minutes and then jumps into this speech about expansion and a junior high summer program much like the one we just went through this summer.

“And we’ve been talking, the other staff members and myself, about having some camp survivors coming back and actually training the junior high program next summer, sort of like an internship,” he explains. “Like I said, it’s a year away, and I don’t expect a guarantee, but I was wondering if this is something you may be interested in.”

Terrence is already on the edge of his seat and nodding along with a huge smile, and we don’t even know details yet. Coach Bennett doesn’t make us wait for those, though. Dorm lodging and meal ticket are provided for the entire summer. Practices fall much like ours did this summer but with different drills and skill building activities. Terrence and I would be working side by side coaching the junior high boys, and it would be a great stepping stone and experience for two guys both looking for a career in coaching.

“Definitely,” Terrence says. “Most definitely.” He looks at me and waits for a response, like I should be jumping up with the same excitement he is.

“C’mon, McCoy,” he says. “This is going to be perfect for us. I know you wouldn’t mind another summer in Bear Creek.” The smirk on his face suggests something other than basketball.

This is my ticket to another summer with Micah…and that ‘bright future’ that Coach is obsessed with, which I hope includes Micah.

“You’re serious?” Micah asks. His eyes are wide, and it’s almost like he doesn’t want to believe me because he doesn’t want me to see his excitement if this is a terrible joke.

“Completely serious. Next summer,” I reaffirm for him.

He throws his arms around my neck and pushes me onto my back on his bed. His lips are warm and wet when he presses them against mine.

“Terrence will have a room to himself,” Micah says. “You’ll be staying with me all summer.”

His premature plans make me laugh. I run my hand through his hair, and in this instant, I admit to myself that his plans are dead on. I’d never sleep on those stone mattresses if I had the option of staying here. I’m sure Terrence won’t be crashing there either, though.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving,” Zoey says.

I linger around with Micah in front of Zoey’s front door. I’ve known all summer this moment would come, but standing in the glow of her porch light, I actually want to cry.

“Thanks for supper,” I say, lame as ever.

Luckily she laughs. “Here.” She hands me a folded sheet of paper. “It’s my secret recipe. Maybe your mom can try it?”

I run my thumb over the folded edge. “I can cook for myself,” I remind her.

She buries her face into her hands. “I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “I forget. You’re not like Micah. You can make more than pancakes.”

Micah sticks his tongue out at her when she reveals her face again.

“Don’t worry. I won’t ever make it as good as you do,” I assure her.

She reaches out and hugs me. It’s one of those long, squeezy hugs, like the kind you get when someone has died, and they don’t know what to say at the funeral home so they just hold on to you tightly.

“Be careful driving home tomorrow. You know you can visit any time you want,” she says in that motherly tone.

I just keep nodding. My throat burns, and I know if I try to speak, I’ll cry. Kyle the Ripper walks onto the porch, and that halts my emotional breakdown.

Abby and Jade bound through the door almost instantly, like there’s someone hiding in the wings and telling them when to enter the ‘Say goodbye to Ridge’ scene. Abby’s arms wrap around my legs, and I pick her up and hug her like Zoey hugged me.

“Are you ever going to see me again?” she asks.

“Definitely,” I say. “I already talked to Micah about coming up here for Halloween.”

She smiles that classic tongue-tip smile and then wraps her tiny arms around my neck.

“You’re going to go trick-or-treating with us!” she exclaims. She gets her premature excitement from her uncle. She pulls away from hugging me with wide eyes.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t leave yet!” she yells into my face.

I set her back on the porch, and she darts inside on a mission. Jade stands with Zoey, arms crossed and pouty face, as always. She even shoots me an evil eye. At least something feels normal tonight.

They wait for Abby on the porch, and I walk with Micah back to my car. We sit on the hood and exchange very few words. I know what he’s thinking. It’s the same as my thoughts. Neither of us want it to be my last night here.

Zoey walks back inside, and Jade slowly shuffles down the sidewalk to my car. She stands in front of me, but she stares at the driveway now rather than giving me mean stares.

“We don’t want you to leave.” She says it so quietly that I almost think I imagined it or misheard her. Her pouty lip pokes out, and her eyes well up with tears.

“I’ll be back,” I say. My voice is equally as quiet as hers was seconds ago.

I can’t believe I’m fighting back tears because of a five-year-old who hated me all summer.

Her floodgates open before mine do. “Not for a long time,” she says through her tears.

“Quicker than you think,” I say. I hold out one arm to her. “Come give me a hug.”

Jade doesn’t hesitate. For the first time, she throws herself toward me and hugs me like Abby has every time she’s seen me this summer. I don’t know what to say to a crying little girl, especially Jade.

“He’ll be back, Jade,” Micah echoes me. He leans over and wraps one arm around each of us. He must be the magic trick because Jade calms down and seems to believe Micah’s word over mine.

Abby bursts through the front door and runs full speed toward my car. “Here! This is for you,” she says. She hands me a multi-colored rabbit’s foot.

“I have two like it,” she says. “It’s my favorite one, so I want you to have one too. For basketball and stuff. Uncle Mike said you’d like it.”

I squeeze the fur in my hand. “He’s right again,” I say.

I look at Micah, who flashes me a smile.

Abby gives me one more tight hug before she and Jade run back to the porch. Both of them stand there while Micah and I get in my car to leave. I crank up and see Zoey standing behind them.

“They won’t go inside until they can’t see your car anymore,” Micah says. “They’ll watch until you’re completely gone.”

He stares out the window at them. I want to tell him that I’ll never be completely gone, but that burning lump in my throat stops me. Abby and Jade both blow kisses, and I find it odd that Abby is still smiling and Jade is the one who’s crying.

Micah places the gym bag full of freshly washed clothes into my backseat. My graffiti painting is in the trunk, and Micah insists on cramming as much as he can into the actual car so nothing happens to Tuck’s artwork. The blue dreamcatcher rests on my gym bag. Aside from the clothes I have sitting next to his bed to wear tomorrow, everything I own is packed into the car and ready to go back to Markham in less than twenty-four hours.