Page 34 of Break Your Fall

I can’t go through this again.

She lets it go. She doesn’t pester. Things seem to settle—the waves, the tone of our voices, the harsh lines of our stares.

The next look she gives me is shrouded in understanding. “You sounded happy out there.”

I nod, a small smile pulling my lips as I remember the wind through my hair, the bounce of my body, the water splashing against my feet. “I was.”

Camille nods back with a small smile of her own. “Don’t be sorry for being happy.” She sighs, stare now pointed. “But be sorry for what just happened with Tommy. That boy would die for you, Reyna.” Her brows flick up, the small smile on her face now knowing, almost pitying. “He’d live for you, too.”

She backs away, then turns, leaving me with thoughts of Tommy and my guilt.

I’ve been running from his words, trying to shove them away from me. Because I felt them. The moment Tommy told me how he feels, I felt his feelings, in everything he says, in everything he does, in everything that he is.

I feel him.

And I’ve never been more comforted and more terrified at the same time in my life.

10

Some Place Normal

Thomas

Toss.59.Catch.

Toss.60.Catch.

I’m lying on my bed, tossing my basketball into the air, twirling the leather between my hands, while my nineties playlist blasts from my stereo as I attempt to relax and work through the worst fear I’ve ever known.

I open my mind, let the roar of the gymnasium echo in my head, in and out of the lyrics, over and under the music. I hear the coach’s whistle, the squeaking of shoes against the floor, the swish of the ball diving straight through the net. Basketball is heavy on the ears. You just have to close your eyes and you’re there, right in the moment, right on the court without having to see any of it.

But when I close my eyes right now, I don’t see the court. I barely hear the crowd. All I can see and hear is Reyna. Her screaming, her words.That would be too merciful.

If Reyna hadn’t come up from those waves. . .

Toss.65.Catch.Eye on the ball.

She slides into my periphery, freezing my stance as my eyes connect with hers through the crack of my door. She eases it open and steps in, waves the phone in her hand before dropping it inside her dress pocket. She’s changed clothes. She’s now in her white dress with the small ribbon tied at the waist, her hair in drying waves draped down her shoulders.

“I would’ve come,” she says as she inches closer to my bedside. She finally saw my texts. I kind of figured she didn’t have her phone when she emerged soaked from the ocean.

All I can manage is a nod, my nerves suddenly firing off and settling all at once.I know.

“How’s today?” she says to get me started, and I twirl the ball between my hands as she motions around herself with an added, “Besides. . .”

“My parents are separating.”

It only takes a second for her face to horrify as she closes the rest of the distance. “What? How? When?”

“After I leave, apparently,” I say, sliding my eyes back to the ball. “They’ve been arguing and I finally confronted my mom about it. Dad’s moving out when I do.” Another humorless laugh bursts from my mouth at the thought.

Reyna’s shaking her head. “That … doesn’t make sense. It’sAshby and Karin.”

For the duration of their separation. But if a—fuck—divorce happens, it’ll be just Ashby. Just Karin.

Just Tommy. Splitting his time between each parent, choosing one parent over the other each holiday, tugged in two different directions for the rest of his life.

This guy should ask for a really stretchy shirt for Christmas.

---