If I Fall (15 page)

NINTEEN

I walked the six short blocks to the beach and turned left, heading 
toward downtown PB. Past the motels and the rental stands hawking bikes and boogie boards, past the small hamburger shack that already had a line of hungry beach-goers waiting to buy lunch. I didn't have a destination in mind. I just kept walking, past Crystal Pier and its rows of tiny white rental cottages, and further still past Grand. It was busier down here, the boardwalk packed with surfers and bums, tourists and locals.

I stopped by the lifeguard tower and leaned against the wall that separated the boardwalk from the sand, gazing out at the beach dotted with blankets and towels and sand castles in various stages of completion. The water was filled with people, too, with toddlers racing recklessly toward the waves and cautious parents hovering nearby, of girls my age braving the water, turning sideways and leaping up as the waves approached. The water was glassy today, the wind nonexistent and there wasn't a single surfer in the water. I wondered if Aidan was having better luck in La Jolla.

“Hey.”

I recognized that voice. I turned around.

A smile spread across my face. “Case.” I was happy to see him.

He leaned against the wall next to me and returned my smile. He wore jeans and a plain white tee and I realized I'd never seen him in shorts.

“What are you up to?” he asked.

I wasn't going to tell him everything that had happened at my house. “Just out for a walk. You?”

“At a friend's house. Dropping something off.” He cocked his head. “You by yourself?”

I nodded.

“Going somewhere?”

“
No.” I didn't know what I was doing. “Just hanging out, I guess.”

He hesitated for just a minute. “Are you hungry? I'm gonna grab something to eat before I go home.”

I didn't have my purse with me and he added, “My treat.”

“
No,” I said. But I wanted to. I really did.

He voiced my thoughts. “Really. I want to.” He pushed off the wall and started walking. “Come on.”

I stood there for only a second before making my decision. I fell into step next to him. We walked further south, nearly pressed against the boardwalk wall as we navigated the crowds. Everyone was with someone else, chatting, holding hands, skateboarding together. Even the bums hung out in small groups, huddled around their overflowing shopping carts. I was glad I was with Case and no longer walking alone.

“
In the mood for Mexican food?” He stopped in front of a tiny cantina. Palm fronds decorated the roof and enormous chili lights hung suspended from the plexiglass sea wall that separated its outdoor dining space from the boardwalk.

“
Sure.”

We sat down in white plastic chairs at a table outside and a dark-haired waitress appeared. She handed us menus.

Case didn't waste any time. “So, did you talk to your dad?”

I nodded.

“Well? How did it go?”

The waitress returned with two glasses of water and I thought about what I should say. It was a long, complicated story and I wasn't sure I wanted to tell him. Especially the part about getting in trouble and being forced to call. I'd wanted to do it of my own accord; I just hadn't been given the opportunity.

I told him, as succinctly as possible, about my day. How I'd left first thing in the morning with Aidan, how I hadn't returned until evening and how my aunt had been there, waiting. Angry. How I'd wanted to call, had meant to do it before being ordered to. He listened, his eyes focused on my face. His features were smooth and soft. There wasn't a hint of judgment in his eyes and I was grateful.

He didn't comment on my conversation with my dad. “So where exactly did you go at six in the morning?”

“It wasn't six when he got there,” I said. It had taken Aidan a good fifteen minutes to get to my house. “And we went to Zanzibar. Out for coffee. And breakfast.”

He took a drink of his water. “And after that? It's not exactly beach weather at seven or eight in the morning.”

He was giving me the third degree and I didn't owe him any answers. But I told him. “Aidan went surfing and then we went back to his house for a while. Then back to the beach.”

“
Full day,” he commented.

Our waitress returned and set down a basket of warm tortilla chips and two terra cotta bowls, one filled with salsa, the other brimming with guacamole. She took our order.

“So,” he said after she left. He dunked a chip in the guacamole. “You two are pretty serious?”

“
I don't know.” The breeze blew in cool from the ocean and I turned my face toward it, letting it blow my hair back. “I guess.”

“
Sleeping with him?” Case's voice was casual.

I toyed with my glass of water, swirling it, clinking the ice cubes together. He ate another chip and watched me, waiting for my response.

“Is that really any of your business?” I asked.

He smiled. “Nope. But I'm asking anyway.”

I felt the heat creep into my cheeks. “Yeah. I am.”

He nodded his head as if he knew this. “You're being careful?” His words came out haltingly, like a car sputtering on fumes.

I didn't answer. No, we weren't being careful. I thought back to yesterday morning in the hallway. Some days we used protection, some days we didn't. I knew it was careless and I knew I was being reckless and I didn't care. Most days, anyway. It had become far easier to stop caring about everything.

“
Megan.” His voice was filled with disapproval. “Don't be stupid. Don't
do
anything stupid.”

“
I know,” I said. “I won't. I mean, I'm not. Not anymore, anyway.” I made a mental note to remember this.

“
What are you using?” I stared blankly at him and he sighed. “For protection?”

“
Oh my God,” I said, shaking my head. “I can't...I don't want to talk about this with
you
.”

“
Who else are you going to be talking to about it?” he asked. “Jada? Your mom? Your aunt?”

He had a good point.

He shifted in his chair and leaned back, lacing his hands behind his head. “I'm just trying to help, Meg. Looking out for you, you know?”

“
I know. Um, Aidan has some stuff.” I looked out at the water, at the small white breakers crashing into the sand. “You know. Condoms.”

He nodded. “Good. I was hoping you weren't gonna just say you were on the pill or something. Pregnancy isn't the only thing you need to be worried about.”

I was sure my face couldn't be any redder. “Got it. Can we change the subject now? Please?”

He grinned. “Sure.”

Our food arrived and I dug in to my platter of fish tacos.

“
Tell me what you've been up to,” I said. I was tired of always talking about me. “Did you do anything fun yesterday?”

“
Jada invited me to the beach.”

“
Oh? Did you go?”

“
Yeah. It was fun. She's a nice girl.”

I nodded. “Yeah. She's great.” I meant it.

He'd ordered enchiladas and was scooping up some of the sauce with a chip. “She misses you, you know.”

I was skeptical. “Did she say that?”

“
Not in so many words. But I know. I can tell.”

“
How?”

He frowned at me. “Come on. You guys have been friends for years. And now suddenly you're not talking anymore? It doesn't take a genius to figure out she would miss you.”

I finished my first taco and took a long drink of water.

“
Is it because of Aidan? Does he not want you hanging out with her anymore or something?”

I shook my head. “No. No, it's nothing like that.” I sighed. “It's just...I just don't know what I'd talk to her about anymore. Our lives are going in two totally opposite directions.”

His frown deepened. “What the hell are you talking about? You're both at the same school. The same grade. You have a class together. And you've been friends for years. How different can your lives be?”

I knew how different our lives were. My parents were divorced and my house was being sold from underneath me. I was drinking almost daily, smoking pot and sleeping with my boyfriend. None of those things were on Jada's radar. None. And I didn't want them to be. I was making a monumental mess of my life. I didn't need to ruin hers, too.

“We just don't have that much in common anymore, I guess.” Somehow, the conversation had turned back to me. I tried to steer it away. “So are you guys dating? A couple?”

He laughed. “Uh, no.”

I waited but he didn't say anything more, just kept his eyes on me, a small smile on his face. I was tempted to ask more questions but something stopped me. Probably because I knew how much I hated answering questions, personal questions that really weren't anyone's business. But there was something else, something in his expression that halted me. I couldn't name it, couldn't put my finger on it, but it was there.

My phone rang then, just as our waitress returned to clear our plates. It was Aidan.

“You ready?”

“
Ready?”

The waitress put the bill on the table and Case took a twenty from his wallet and handed it to her. He glanced at me, a quizzical expression on his face. I mouthed Aidan's name and he nodded.

“For me to come over.”

“
Oh. Actually, I'm not home right now.”

“
What? I thought you said you were grounded.”

“
Yeah, I know.” I tried to explain. “But I didn't want to stay home alone so I took a walk. Case was down on the boardwalk and we grabbed some lunch. I'm heading home now.”

Silence. Then, “Alone?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, alone.” I turned away from the table and lowered my voice to a whisper. “He's a friend, that's all.”

“
A friend that seems to be showing up pretty fucking often.” He wasn't as nonchalant about my choice of companions today.

“
Stop,” I whispered. “I'll explain later.”

“
Damn right you will.”

The line went dead.

“Everything OK?”

I shoved my phone back into my pocket. “No. But it will be.”

“He's not happy you're hanging out with me.” He didn't phrase it as a question.

“
I don't know. I guess. I mean, it's not like he has anything to be jealous about.” Once I said it, I grimaced at my tactlessness.

“
That's for sure.” Case laughed, seemingly unaffected by my statement, and stood up. “Come on. I'll drive you home.”

I started to protest. He'd been my personal taxi two nights earlier, he'd just treated me to lunch and now he was offering to chauffeur me again.

“I won't take no for an answer,” he told me, grabbing my hand as we walked back to the boardwalk, pulling me along. “I'm three blocks down. I can have you home in fifteen minutes, tops.”

He made it to my house in ten. We talked about his truck as he drove. It was an older model Ford, a faded cherry red truck with high-backed white vinyl seats and wood-grain detail. I hadn't noticed much about it on the ride home from Del Mar.

“This is sweet,” I commented, running my hands along the dash. “Where did you get it?”

He hesitated for a second. “It was my dad's. He used to restore old cars before...” He didn't finish. I wondered if it was his dad's before he went to jail. Or maybe it was before he started selling drugs.

“It's cool.”

Case grinned. “Not really. Not yet, anyway. I have a lot of stuff I want to do to it.”

“Like what?”

“
New paint, for starters. And the person who owned it before installed some crappy knock-offs. I want originals—mirrors, radio, hubcaps. Stuff like that.”

“
Wow.”

“
Yeah. It's gonna cost a ton of money. So I'm baby-stepping it. I picked this up last weekend.” He pointed to the rear-view mirror. “Cost me almost a hundred bucks.”

We'd pulled up in front of my house and I glanced up at the mirror. It looked ordinary, certainly not worth a hundred dollars, but I didn't say this. “Cool. Where do you find parts?” I pictured him wading through a sea of smashed cars in some junkyard, sifting through twisted bits of metal.

“There's a place downtown. A store. East San Diego. I've been there a couple of time, found an original owner's manual there. I look online, too. And in catalogs.”

“
You're pretty into it, huh?”

Case shrugged. “Keeps me busy. Gives me something to think about, you know?”

I knew. I had my own diversions to fall back on so I didn't have to think about my current situation, but his seemed a lot safer than mine.