Page 140 of Falling

“Yes, that sounds better than her dying,” Kennedy says dramatically. “Wait, you’re making a sequel, right? Please tell me you’re making a sequel.”

“I’m thinking about it. I need to focus on real work for class instead of this. It’s not like I’m going to get it published,” I admit.

“You could. I’ll design a cover, and you can self-publish like Gigi,” Kennedy replies, almost falling out of her chair as her eyes widen. “Thirteen-year-olds would eat that shit up.”

“It’s a possibility, but it’s also a lot of work.”

“Since when are you afraid of hard work?” Scarlett asks, wiggling her eyebrows. “Maybe not now, but I really think you should in the future. With a bit of editing, it would be perfect. I’m sure G would help you.”

“Maybe,” I say, trying to mentally add that onto my thousand-word long to-do list. “Anyway, I’m thinking of making Carmen fake her death and then run away to start a new empire.”

“I hate that idea a little less,” Kennedy says thoughtfully before her face lights up again. “Will she have a sidekick?”

“I’m thinking that Vita will go with her,” I reply.

“Isn’t she, like, a million years old?” Kennedy asks, flicking through the printed sheets of my book in front of her.

“Yeah, but she’s in a middle-aged woman’s body. She’s basically a Cullen,” I say with a waft on my hand.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Kennedy agrees, nodding her head. “I give you permission to end it that way.”

“Why, thank you,” I reply, nodding my head toward her. Scarlett pulls the paper out of Kennedy’s hand and looks over it with a serious expression. They are both my harshest writing critics, but Scarlett looks more at the intricate details than anything. Kennedy just worried about how hot the protagonist is going to be.

“So, talking about boys…” Kennedy drags out with a whistle.

“We weren’t,” I say with a bored tone. She ignores it anyway.

“How are you and Milesy?”

I raise my chin. “How are you and Harry?”

She’s been spending a lot of time with Miles’s teammate, and anytime I bring it up, she denies that anything is going on. Apparently, they’re just really good friends, but I’m finding that hard to believe. He looks at her like she hung the fucking moon, and she looks at him the same way.

“Fine,” she says, sighing, “Let’s not talk about boys.”

So we don’t. We spend the rest of Kennedy’s lunch break talking about books and the fictional boyfriends we wish we had. I can’t complain much though. I think Miles Davis is even better than all of them.

After my classes are done,instead of going back to the library with them to study, I have to put on my best face and meet up with my sister.

I’ve been putting it off for weeks, but it’s about time. I can only imagine how isolating this experience is for her being pregnant and not really having anyone to talk to. I don’t know what the situation is with her and my mom at the minute, but I know my dad said he’s excited for her. He passed on the news to me that she’s having a boy, and I’ve been secretly buying clothes whenever I see them. She’s due within the next few weeks and I don’t want the first time I see her after what happened to be when she’s had the baby.

We’ve never had any babies in our family, and we’re so disconnected that I might just have not realized. I think kids are adorable and probably the funniest part of our world, and I’ve always wanted a younger sibling. The thought of having a nephew to spoil makes my heart swell. As uptight as Austin can be, I know she and Zion will make great parents. Zion has always been kind to me, and even though we don’t have much of a relationship like we did when he still lived here, I know he’s doing everything he can to make sure she’s comfortable and happy.

I nervously adjust the silverware for the third time, my fingers tracing the patterns on the napkin. The cozy, softly lit bistrofeels strangely foreign despite its familiar surroundings. I check my phone again, hoping for a distraction, when I hear the soft chime of the doorbell and see Austin step inside.

She spots me almost immediately and offers a tentative smile as she approaches the table. My heart races, a mix of anticipation and apprehension churning within me. This pregnancy has really done wonders for her. She’s practically glowing as she walks with one hand on her bump, which has gotten impossibly larger since the last time I saw her.

As she takes a seat across from me, I can’t help but notice the exhaustion etched into her features, the way her eyes seem heavier, and I already start to feel bad.

“Hey,” she says softly, her voice tinged with nervousness.

“Hey,” I reply, trying to muster a smile.

For a moment, we sit in an awkward silence, both unsure of how to breach the gap that has grown between us. A server comes to take our orders, and we’re left in another round of silence. It shouldn’t be so hard to talk to her. She’s my sister for God’s sake.

Finally, Austin takes a deep breath, her hands fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth.

“I’m sorry, Wren,” she begins, her voice trembling. Okay. I guess we’re jumping right into this. “I should have stood up for you that day. I was just... so scared. Mom, she has this way of getting into your head, making you doubt everything. But that’s not an excuse. I let you down when you needed me the most.”

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