Page 3 of Falling

“I’m good. Can we just get this done?” she snaps. I nod and lead the movers upstairs. Geneva has a lot more she’s moving than I do. It takes several more hours for everything to be loaded into the truck.

We’re close to being done when I notice her standing in the corner of her living room, wringing her hands. I slide next to her and drape an arm over her shoulder. I squeeze her against my side.

A shuddering breath escapes her lips. My arms wrap around her as I pull her against my chest. For a couple of seconds, she lets me comfort her. Then she shoves me away. I’m not offended; that’s just Geneva.

“Let’s blow this place,” she says, her jaw set in determination. We lock up and turn the keys into the concierge. Cleaners come tomorrow to clean both of our places.

Unlike Rand, neither of us owns our place. I had to pay a penalty for moving out early. Geneva only had two months left on her lease. There was a list of new tenants waiting for her place, so they waived any fees.

“Let me give you the grand tour of our steed for the next week.” I unlock my Land Rover. It’s not new, but it gets me where I need to go. Right now, it’s full of everything I think we might need for a road trip.

“This is the easy-to-reach cooler full of both water and soda. Don’t lecture me about sugar,” I add, holding up my hand when Geneva cocks a hip. “This one is snacks, both healthy and junk.”

“Nuts?”

“Lightly salted and chocolate covered. Also, chips, rice cakes, granola, cheese, the list goes on.” She peers in the back, looking skeptical. “Just get in.” She rolls her eyes but climbs in the passenger seat. I take a couple of deep breaths and walk to the driver’s side.

“Are we there yet?” she asks when I slide in.

“There are a couple of game books in the door to keep you entertained the whole three and a half hours to Yosemite.” She rolls her eyes and pulls out her phone. “Hey, no phones. You have to keep me awake.”

She puts her phone down. Digging through the stash of game books and magazines I picked up yesterday, she pulls one out. “Ooh, a survey.”

Crap. I should have chosen better.

“Tell us about your first time.”

What you’re about to witness is Geneva’s ability to torture me to the point of madness. She’s been perfecting it since we were young. There are probably a dozen articles we could discuss, but she’s zeroed in on the one that will push me the farthest out of my comfort zone. Well, I guess when in Rome…

“Fire away.” I chance a glance at her. Her eyes gleam back at me.

“Question one. How would you best describe the experience? One, it was a special and exciting experience. Two, it was uncomfortable at times but still good. Three, it was awkward and I’m glad I got it over with. Or four, it was a disaster.”

“Umm.” I have to think about this one for a minute. “I guess it was somewhere between exciting and awkward. She was older. She was way more experienced than I was. I fumbled around until she finally lost patience and took over.”

“Alright. Question two.”

“No, no. That’s not how we’re playing this. Now, it’s your turn to answer.” She tries to wait me out, but we have three more hours to go. I can hold out forever.

“Fine,” she finally growls. “It was time to get past being a virgin. I picked up a guy. We had sex. It was neither good nor bad; it just was.”

That’s horrible. I would take nervous fumbling over that any day. My heart breaks thinking this is what she chose. I’ve heard her be called a cold fish and worse before. It’s not true, though. I think she just uses it as a defense.

“Question two,” she starts again. “Were you nervous?”

“Hell, yes.”

“What about? That’s question three, by the way.”

“About everything. Am I doing something wrong? Is the condom still good? What if she doesn’t want to see me again? I know you think I’m this super stud, but I’m really a very insecure person inside.”

I laugh. She doesn’t.

“You’re probably the most secure person I’ve ever met. You’ve always had your shit together, Peter. Not like Rand and I. Well, Rand is getting there.”

She couldn’t have shocked me any harder if she had hooked me up to the car battery and poured water on my head. I’ve always felt like she thought I was a moron.

“What about you?” I ask.

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