November 9: A Novel (14 page)

“And Fallon is your . . .” He leaves the sentence hanging, waiting for Ben to finish it. But Ben stares at me and waits for
me
to finish it.

What the hell? Talk about being put on the spot.

“I’m Ben’s . . .
plotline
?”

Ben laughs loudly, but Ian cocks a curious eyebrow. He looks even more like Ben when he does this. “You finally writing an actual book?” Ian asks him.

Ben rolls his eyes and grabs my hand to pull me back toward the stairs. “She’s not my plotline, she’s my girlfriend and today is our one-year anniversary.”

Jordyn is in the living room now, standing next to Ian. They’re both looking at Ben like he’s been keeping the world’s biggest secret.

“You’ve been dating for a whole
year
?” Jordyn asks, directing her question at me. Before I can tell her he’s only kidding, she throws her hands up in defeat. “Ben, you told me you weren’t bringing a plus one! I didn’t order enough chairs and
oh, my God
, it’s probably too late!” She storms out of the room to go make an unnecessary phone call.

I slap Ben on the arm. “That was so mean! She’s already stressed as it is.”

He laughs and then rolls his eyes dramatically with a groan. “Fine.” He follows after Jordyn and as soon as it’s just me and Ian in the room, the front door opens.
Again.
Jesus Christ, how many people can fit in this house?

When the next guy walks through the front door, he sees Ian first. They hug and he slaps Ian on the back. “You said you didn’t come in until tomorrow.”

Ian shrugs. “Miles took today’s runs for me so I could get here sooner. Weather is supposed to be bad tomorrow and I didn’t want to get delayed.”

The brother I don’t know yet says, “Dude, if you would have missed the rehearsal dinner, Jordyn would have my . . .” His voice trails off when he notices me standing in the middle of the living room. I expect him to say something, but he just carefully eyes me up and down with suspicion, as if they don’t have visitors very often. Ian steps in and motions toward me.

“Have you met Ben’s girlfriend?”

The guy’s expression doesn’t change, other than an almost unnoticeable arch of his brow. He quickly straightens up and walks toward me. “Kyle Kessler,” he says, extending a hand. “And you are?”

“Fallon,” I say in a slightly intimidated voice. “Fallon O’Neil.”

Unlike Ian and Ben, Kyle doesn’t give off the welcoming vibe. It’s not that he gives off an unfriendly vibe . . . he’s just nothing like his brothers. He’s more serious. More intimidating. For a second, I see him glance at the left side of my face and it makes me wonder what he thinks of Ben for bringing someone like me home. But then I remember Ben’s words to me upstairs, and how lucky Ben is to have brought someone like me home. Rather than follow through with my initial urge to let my hair fall in my face, I stand taller—more confident. Kyle releases my hand when Ben walks back into the living room.

“All is well with Jordyn,” he says. Ben stops short when he sees Kyle. His eyes widen a little, as if he’s shocked to see Kyle, and I notice a shift in his demeanor. He tries to cover it up with a smile. “You said you wouldn’t be home until tonight.”

Kyle drops his keys onto a nearby table and then points at Ben. “We need to talk.”

I can’t place the tone in Kyle’s voice. He doesn’t sound outright angry, but he also doesn’t seem to be pleased with Ben.

Ben shoots me a reassuring smile before following Kyle out of the room. “Be right back,” he says.

I’m left alone with Ian again. I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans, unsure of what to do with myself while I wait for Ben.

Ian bends down and scoops up the little white dog at his feet. He nods his head toward the stairs. “I haven’t showered in three days. That’s where I’ll be if either of them asks.”

“Yeah,” I say. “It was nice meeting you, Ian.”

He smiles. “You too, Fallon.”

And now I’m alone. These last few minutes have been all kinds of strange. Ben’s family is . . . interesting.

I look around the living room, trying to get a clue as to who Ben is. There are pictures on the mantel of him and his brothers. I pick one up to get a closer look. It’s hard to tell now, but in the earlier pictures it’s clear that Ben is the baby and Ian is the oldest. I just have no idea how many years separate the brothers. Maybe two or three?

I don’t see any pictures of their mother anywhere. It makes me wonder how long ago she died and where their father is. Ben hasn’t mentioned anything about him yet.

I hear a loud thud come from the hallway. Worried it might be Jordyn, I walk in that direction. I immediately pause when I see Ben pressed up against the wall with Kyle’s arm against his throat.

“Are you an idiot?” Kyle says through clenched teeth. Ben is looking at Kyle like he wants to kill him, but he isn’t making an effort to fight back. Just as I’m about to rush down the hallway to pull Kyle off of him, Ben catches sight of me out of the corner of his eye. Kyle then turns to see what caught Ben’s attention and as soon as he sees me, he takes a step back, releasing Ben.

I’m so confused by what just happened. Kyle is standing between Ben and me, looking back and forth between us. Just when it looks as if he’s about to turn and walk away, he spins around and decks Ben right in the eye, slamming him into the wall behind him.

“What the hell!” I yell at Kyle. I rush to Ben and he holds up a hand, keeping me at a distance.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Go upstairs. I’ll be up in a minute.” He’s covering his eye with his hand, and Kyle is still standing there, looking like he wants to hit him again. But he immediately backs down when Jordyn comes rushing around the corner to take in the scene. She looks back and forth from Kyle to Ben in shock, like this is completely out of character for both of them.

Which makes this entire scene even more confusing. I don’t have brothers, so as far as I know, brothers punch each other all the time. But going by Jordyn’s reaction, that’s not the case in this household. She’ll probably break down in tears again any second.

“Did you just
hit
him?” she says to Kyle.

For a split second, Kyle looks ashamed, as if he wants to apologize. But then he blows out a quick breath and turns his attention to Ben. “You deserved that,” he says, backing out of the hallway. “You fucking
deserved
that.”

We’re in my bathroom and I’m leaning against the counter as she dabs the wet washcloth against my eye, wiping away the blood.

I can’t believe Kyle hit me in front of her. I’m so pissed and I’m trying to relax, but it’s hard. Especially when she’s pressed against me in the bathroom like this, touching my face with her fingertips.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She reaches down for a Band-Aid and begins tearing it open.

“No.”

She presses the Band-Aid to my face and smooths it out. “Should I be worried?” She tosses the paper in the trash can and puts the washcloth in the sink.

I face the mirror and finger the swelling around my eye. “No, Fallon. You should never be worried when it comes to me. Or Kyle, for that matter.”

I still can’t believe he hit me. In all my life, he’s never hit me. He’s come very close a time or two. Either he’s really stressed about his wedding or I’ve really pissed him off this time.

“Can we get out of here?” I ask.

She shrugs. “I guess. Where do you want to go?”

“Wherever you are.”

Just seeing her smile releases so much of my tension. “I have an idea,” she says.

• • •

“Are you cold?”

It’s the third time I’ve asked her and she keeps saying no, but she’s shivering. I pull her against me and wrap the blanket more securely around us.

She wanted to come to the beach, despite the fact that it’s almost dark and November. We got takeout from Chipotle, of course, and she set up a makeshift picnic with blankets we took from my house. We finished eating about half an hour ago and we’ve just been making small talk, getting to know more about each other. But with the heaviness of what happened back at the house, all of the questions so far have been safe. But neither of us has asked the other a question in at least two minutes, so we may be all out of small talk. Or maybe the silence is a question in itself.

I’m holding her hand under the blanket and we’re both just staring at the waves as they crash against the rocks. After a while, she lays her head on my shoulder.

“I haven’t been to the beach since I was sixteen,” she says.

“Are you scared of the ocean?”

She lifts her head off my shoulder and pulls her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. “I used to come all the time. Whenever I had a day off, this is where I’d be. But then the fire happened and it took a long time to recover. I was in and out of the hospital and physical therapy. The sun isn’t good for skin when it’s trying to heal, so I just . . . never came back. Even after it was okay to be in direct sunlight again, I no longer had the confidence to show up to a place where everyone revealed the most amount of skin they could get away with.”

Once again, I’m at a loss for what to say to her. I hate knowing the fire took away so much of her confidence, but I think I’m still clueless when it comes to how much it actually took away from her life.

“It feels good to be back,” she whispers.

I squeeze her hand, because I’m sure that’s all she really wants.

We sit in silence again, and my mind keeps going back to what happened with Kyle in the hallway. I don’t know how much she heard, but she’s still here, so it couldn’t have been much. However, to say she saw a different side to Kyle than I would have wanted her to see is an understatement. She probably thinks he’s an asshole, and based on the few minutes she witnessed of him, I wouldn’t blame her.

“When I was in fourth grade, there was this older kid who used to pick on me,” I tell her. “Every day on the bus he would either hit me or say mean things to me. It went on for months, and there were a couple of times I would actually get off the bus with a bloody nose.”

“Jesus,” she says.

“Kyle is a couple years older than me. He was in middle school, but we rode the same bus because we went to a fairly small school. One day, after the kid hit me right in front of Kyle, I expected him to take up for me. To beat the kid’s ass, because I’m his little brother. That’s what big brothers are supposed to do. Protect their little brothers from bullies.” I stretch my legs out in front of me and sigh. “But Kyle just sat there, staring at me. He never intervened. And when we got home, I was so angry with him. I told him it was his job as my brother to teach the bullies a lesson. He laughed and said, ‘And how will that teach
you
anything?’

“I didn’t know what to say, because what the hell was I supposed to be learning by getting my ass kicked every day? Kyle said, ‘What is stopping one bully going to teach you? Nothing. If I intervened, what would you gain from that besides learning to rely on someone else rather than yourself? There will always be bullies, Ben. You need to learn how to deal with them yourself. You need to learn how to not let them get to you. And me beating up some kid for you isn’t going to teach you a damn thing.’ ”

Fallon faces me. “Did you listen to him?”

I shake my head. “No, I went to my room and cried because I thought he was just being mean. And the kid continued to pick on me for weeks after that. But then one day, it just clicked. I don’t know what it was, but I slowly started defending myself. I stopped letting him get to me as much as he did. Stopped acting so scared around him. And after a while, when he realized his insults didn’t bother me, he finally backed off.”

She’s quiet, but I can tell she’s wondering why I’m telling her this story.

“He’s a good brother,” I say to her. “He’s a good person. I hate that you saw the side of him you did today, because that’s not him. He had a right to be upset with me and no, I don’t want to talk about it. But my brothers are really good people and I just wanted you to know that.”

She’s looking at me appreciatively. I wrap my arm around her and pull her to my chest as I lay down on the blanket beneath us. I’m looking up at the stars now, surprised at how long it’s been since I’ve actually seen them.

“I was excited about the idea of having a sibling,” she says. “I know I acted like I wasn’t happy when my dad told me last year, but I’ve always wanted a sister or brother. Unfortunately, the girl my dad was engaged to wasn’t pregnant after all. She thought he had money thanks to his semi-celebrity status. When she found out he was actually broke, she left him.”

Wow. I don’t feel so bad about my family drama she witnessed today. “That’s awful,” I say to her. “Was he upset?” Not that I care if he was upset. The man deserves any negative karma that’s returned to him with the way he treated her that day.

She shrugs. “I don’t know. My mom told me all that. I haven’t even spoken to him since last year.”

That makes me sad for her. As much of a douchebag as he is, he’s still her father, so I know that has to hurt. “What kind of person fakes pregnancy to trap a man? That’s messed up. Although it does sound like a great plotline for a book.”

She laughs against my chest. “It’s tripe and way overused as a subplot.” She rests her chin on her arms and smiles at me. The moonlight is hitting her face, shining down on her like she’s on a stage.

Which reminds me . . .

“Are you ever going to tell me about this rehearsal you mentioned earlier? What’s it for?”

She loses the smile. “Community theater,” she says. “Tomorrow is opening day and we have dress rehearsals in the morning, which is why I need to be back so early. I don’t have a lead role and it doesn’t pay anything, but I enjoy it because a lot of the actors look to me for advice. I don’t know why, maybe because I’ve had a lot of experience in the past, but it feels good. It’s nice that I’m not cooped up in my apartment all the time.”

I like hearing that. “What about work?”

“My schedule is flexible. I’m still recording audiobooks and I get enough work to pay the bills, so that’s good. Although I did have to move apartments because my rent was a little steep, but . . . overall things are going well. I’m happy there.”