Page 22 of Falling With a Spin

Fifteen minutes later, we are heading out the door. I put on black leggings and a white crop top hoodie with books on it and flowers weaving through it. I threw on my pair of Doc Martins and put my hair up in a messy bun. I opted out of makeup because I was lacking the effort even to pick up the mascara tube.

Taylor, on the other hand, is wearing black distressed skinny jeans and a pink long-sleeve shirt. It has white polka dots covered all over it, and her hair is down in the natural waves that she keeps it in.

“Alright, girls, our reservation is in twenty minutes. It’s an Italian restaurant just down the street,” Mom presses the elevator button about five times before the doors slide open, and we walk inside. She mumbles something along the lines of how they need to get this fixed.

I glance over to Taylor, and we just laugh because no matter how many requests we put into getting this elevator to work, they will not fix it, and for me, that's okay. It’s something that's broken and still works. Just like me.

We step out of the elevator and through the front doors. The cool air hitting my skin is refreshing, and I take a deep breath, a small smile coming to my face. This is what I needed.

I sit in the back of Taylor’s car as her and mom catch up; they have always been close since we first became roommates. My Mom is someone that Taylor has always needed. Glancing out the window, I see the sun starting to set, causing the sky to fill with colors of purple and orange. A small smile comes to my face at how breathtakingly beautiful it is. Arizona has some of the best sunsets and sunrises I have ever seen, but right here, nothing will beat it.

As Mom and Taylor continue talking, thoughts of school enter my head. I think about what my professors will say to me about my missing days and assignments. I think about the test I took before the break started and if I even passed it. I think about the possibility of running into Chad, and my heart starts racing. I’m not sure what I will do when I see him again.

The sound of my Mom's voice pulls me from my thoughts. She is turned around and facing me, and when I look at her, I can see worry filling her brown eyes. I throw on a fake smile that I’m hoping comes off somewhat natural, and open the door. Taylor throws her arm around my shoulder and pulls me into a hug as Mom goes to let the hostess know that we are here.

“Are you going to tell me why you have been holding yourself up in your room after I picked you up from Garrett's house?” She pulls away from me and places her hands on her hips.

Sighing, “Can we talk about this another time?” I look behind her, towards the restaurant doors. “I just want to enjoy this night right now.”

She looks as if she is going to press me on the matter, but my mom saves us when she walks out to let us know that our table is ready.

The restaurant has an old Italian theme to it, with red walls and green crown molding, small round tables scattered around the room, and booths with red cushions against the wall. It has a warm, welcoming feeling to it that you don’t usually find in many places. Soft music plays from the speakers, which are hidden behind black-and-white photos hanging from the walls. In the images, people are pictured dancing, eating, and celebrating whatever occasion it was taken on. One in particular that catches my eye is a man and a woman. The woman is wearing a white long-sleeved dress that stops right below her knees. In her hand, she’s holding a small bouquet and with a white fascinator in her hair. The man holding her is wearing a black suit, with a broad smile, and is looking down at her. Around them, people are cheering and throwing things in the air. A smile comes to my face at the happiness it brings me. They must have just gotten married, and I look over to my mom, who is walking with Taylor. I wonder if she will ever have that again.

“That's the owner's grandparents,” A voice startles me, and when I turn, I see Layla standing next to me. “Pizza was his favorite food, and he wanted to open up a restaurant in almost every state, but his wife said that he couldn’t do that unless he had a variety of food items, so he chose all Italian-based food. He had told his son that it was a representation of his mom and that both food and her have a special place in his heart. Happy wife equals a happy life,” I continue to look at her as a sad smile shows on her face. “But a few years after this picture was taken, she became extremely sick and passed away. He carried on with the business in her name, and ever since then, it has been in the family.” My heart aches at the story; the happy couple you see here only had a short time to be together.

“I’ve missed you in class. It’s been absolutely boring without you there,” Layla turns to look at me. “I hope you are okay. But if you aren’t, that's okay too. I may not know what is going on, but I’m here for you. You aren’t alone.”

I go to say thank you, but my mom calls for me to where she and Taylor are sitting. I don’t want to leave Layla here. I want to know how she knows the story and if she’s a part of this family. “I better get going, but I will see you in class on Monday.” I don’t wait for her reply as I scurry off towards our table.

Dinner goes by fast, and we are on our way back to the apartment. Taylor offers to drop her off, but she doesn’t want to be a hassle, saying she’ll call for a cab. Once we get back, Taylor heads up to our room, leaving just my mom and me by the front door. I can see the exhaustion on her face, and it starts to worry me.

I want her to stay for just a little bit longer. I miss having her around, but she needs to be back in Arizona by tomorrow night for work the next day, and it’s a long flight home. I lunge for her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and holding onto her for just a little bit longer.

“Have a safe trip back, and please call me when you land,” I pull back from her, and she nods her head. A cab pulls up next to the sidewalk, and she gets in; rolling down the window, she blows me a kiss goodbye.

I stand where she left me until I see her cab turn the corner. I tilt my head to the night sky. You can’t really see the stars here as much as you can back home, but they shine just a little bit brighter on clear nights like tonight. I turned around, walking up the steps to our apartment.

When I get back inside, Taylor has a glass of wine, and a movie up on our TV. She hands me the glass of red wine from the couch and points to my usual spot for me to sit down. I don’t question her because this is what I need. I don’t need to go back to my room to wallow in my sadness, especially in those sheets I desperately needed to wash. I need to start getting back to who I used to be or a better version of that, no matter how long it takes.

“Oh, by the way, I stripped your bed and started washing your sheets. I don’t know what died, but I almost threw them out." She glances at me over the rim of her wine glass, and we burst into laughter.

Chapter 10

Emma

Going back to school has been challenging. Not hard, but difficult, loathing, unbearable—really, any word besides hard.

Taking two weeks off, technically one since we had a break, was not the greatest idea I’ve had. It turns out that my teachers assigned work to be done over the break, and the stack of work that Layla brought me that I didn’t touch was filled with those assignments. I’ve talked to all my teachers but one, giving them a weak excuse about a family member being sick and that I had to go home. Luckily, they are each giving me an extension until the end of the week. I’m grateful for it, but that means I have three times the work I need to do.

Yay me.

My phone vibrates as I walk into my calculus class. I pull it out to see another message from Chad. I chew the inside of my cheek, still unsure what to say to him. I’ve kept his messages unread as I still figure out my thoughts. Maybe I need to talk with someone about that night? Dread pools in my stomach, thinking about saying it all out loud.

“You can think about that later, Emma,” I say to myself. One of my classmates gives me a strange look, and I shrug them off.

I stuff my phone back into my pocket and head over to my seat, placing my backpack and books onto my desk, then walking down to where Professor Mikens stands by his desk.

“Hey, Professor,” I nervously wring my fingers and shift my weight between both feet. “I know I haven’t been in class lately. There was a family emergency that I had to deal with back home.”

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