Page 4 of Somewhere Between Falling

“Agreed, I forgot about that one,” he said with a laugh. “I read that even the author hates the movies.”

“I heard that too—something about them leaving him out of the whole process, which I think is ridiculous. The author should be the primary source of information and involved in all decisions being made about their story.”

That’s how dinner went—seamlessly transitioning from one topic to another.

Of course, we covered the lighter subjects like our favorite foods (we both said Greek was our favorite); music we loved (he favored classic rock, whereas I was more of a pop girl, and we both agreed country is the worse genre); places we want to travel to (Asia for him, Europe for me) to eventually deeper topics like politics and religion. Things that normally were considered rude to discuss, we discussed. Probably because we knew that we’d likely never see each other again. The night could have lasted forever, and I don’t think it would last long enough.

“Can I interest y'all in some café au lait and beignets?” the waitress asked as she was clearing away our dinner bowls.

“I always say yes to coffee. It’s a rule,” Tobias said, very seriously, which made me laugh a little.

“Two coffees and a plate of beignets to share please.”

Chapter Three

It was nearly nine o’clock when we finally returned to the bench. A part of me knew it was time to say goodbye and that we should just leave it at that. Another part of me didn’t want to let today go without the promise of another. But today was perfect, and I felt like if I tried pursuing anything more it would seem less magical, and I wanted to remember this day as just that. Magical.

“I guess I should go,” I said reluctantly. “Thank you for an amazing day. Really.”

“Can I walk you to your car?” he asked.

“My car is just right there.”

“Oh.” He looked as disappointed as I felt at not having any excuses to prolong the moment. “Can I give you my number?” he asked.

“Yes, hold on.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and realized it was dead. That was probably a sign.

“Here, I’ll put yours in mine,” he said before realizing that his phone was also dead. He laughed a little. “Wait!” he said suddenly. He pulled out his receipt from the bookstore bag and scribbled his number on the back. “There we go.”

“How old school,” I said, taking the thin receipt from him. “I’ll text you once I get my phone charged so you have my number too.”

“I guess this is goodbye, then.” He held out his hand, and I smiled a little as I shook it.

“Bye, Tobias.”

He squeezed my hand ever so gently, then just as slowly pulled me in closer to him and lightly kissed the top of my head before walking away.

At that moment I thought I might melt right into the cold ground. I made the decision to walk straight to my car without turning around for fear that I would be tempted to do or say something that I would be really embarrassed by later. It was hard, but I was trembling so much that I knew if I didn’t completely focus on putting one foot in front of the other, I would fall over. I unlocked the door to my Impreza, and as I started to open the door a gust of wind blew it wide open and the receipt with his number right out of my hand.

“Oh!” I tried to catch it, but it was no use. It was gone.

Maybe it’s better this way, I thought to myself. This way he doesn’t get the chance to disappoint me. Feeling utterly disappointed, I started my car and headed back to campus.

When I returned to my dorm room, he was there waiting for me. I wasn’t surprised, though that did nothing to appease my annoyance.

“Hello, Dad,” I greeted, with as much disdain as I could muster.

“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you all day,” he demanded.

“I know,” I said, crossing my arms protectively across my chest.

“I have been worried sick.”

“Sorry, I just got tired of waiting for you.”

“I’m sorry I was late, but you would’ve known why had you answered your phone,” he countered.

“What sort of crisis kept you this time? Let me guess? Something to do with Blair, I’m sure,” I said, bitingly.

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