Page 50 of Don't Fall

Chapter Thirteen

Tessa

After successfully avoiding both Lane and Drea all day, I call Cara after track practice and beg her for a ride to my car. She shows up ten minutes later.

“Dude, I almost didn’t recognize you,” I say, pointing at her preschool teacher get up as I slide into the passenger seat. “Do you really wear glasses? Or do they just go with your teacher persona?”

“I legit have bad eyes,” she explains woefully as she turns out of the parking lot and onto the road. “My hearing rocks though.”

“Yeah?” I mean, that’s good news and all.

“Absolutely. Give it go. Lay it on me. Let me do some serious listening,” she prods until I finally pick up one of the hints she’s so blatantly dropping.

“Oh. You want, like, an explanation.”

“Bingo.”

“God, that’s a real thing today with people.” I scooch down into the seat, imagining what it might feel like to be swallowed up and hidden away within the stuffing.

“Listen, you can’t go around leaving the club with some hot guy, then calling for a ride the next day when we both know you live with said hot guy...and go to school with him. Not to mention, Drea’s gotta be around here somewhere too. And yet, I got the call. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to take the call, but why did I get the call?”

I twist my mouth back and forth to give her a visual of the distaste this conversation is stirring up for me. Then I sigh, loudly, dramatically, and begin, “Hot guy, let’s call him Casey, is a very nice guy, but we’re not close in the sort of way that I could ask him for a ride. Plus, on campus we agreed to ignore each other, so that’s what I do. I take long, lengthy walks from class to class, just to make sure I’m extra good at it. And Drea and I had a fight. So... there you go.”

“She doesn’t like hot guy? And no, let’s not call him Casey. Casey’s that douche you were dancing with the other night who hit on every girl on his way out before leaving with Nat.”

“No!”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, yeah!”

“Gross.” Not for either one of them in particular. It’s a very generalized gross. “Fine, we don’t have to call him Casey. Unless Drea asks. Then, you call him Casey.”

Her brow arches and her lips purse briefly. “My ears, man. So damn good.”

I laugh. “Fine. Here it is. Drea hates him but she’s overjoyed at the thought of my hooking up with a man last night, so, rather than face the obvious writing on the wall across the hall, she opted to conclude that I wound up with Casey...somehow. Whatever. It makes her happy.”

“But, then why are you fighting?”

“Because she went on to give this whole speech about how screwed I am with Lane and how I need to stay away from him unless I want him to keep taking advantage of me. I don’t know. It went in a few different directions, most of them really offensive. To me. She can think whatever she wants about Lane, but me, she knows!”

“Lane. Yeah, that’s what we’re calling him.” She winks. As if nothing else I said ever made it in.

“Seriously? Your awesome hearing may not be as on point as you think,” I mutter, sitting up taller when I realize we’re coming up to the club.

“Oh, no, girl, I heard you just fine. Drea’s mad because you’re not acting like the responsible one, which means she has to and she’s not any good at it. So, you have to cut her slack, ‘cause she’s trying and she’s gotta let you do your thing, and Lane is going to keep taking whatever the hell he wants because you sure as hell wanna give it to him.” She wiggles her brows at me, grinning.

“Wow. That was pretty spot on.”

She points at her right ear. “So. Damn. Good.”

The car comes to a stop beside mine and I reach for the handle to get out. “Thanks for being a pal.”

“It’s our thing,” she reminds me.

“And the whole Lane thing,” I pause, not sure what I really want to say here.

“Is nobody’s damn business,” Cara finishes for me.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

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