Page 25 of Fall I Want
Five things I can see: grass, trees, mountains, pumpkins, a woman walking her dog.
Four things I can hear: the wind blowing through the leaves, a few birds chirping, a couple in the distance chatting, a car zooming by.
Three things I can touch: the wood on the bench, my jeans, the soft fabric of my T-shirt.
Two things I can smell: the light hint of Autumn’s perfume and the scent of freshly cut grass.
One thing I can taste: the sweet and sour from the margarita I had at Bookers.
A sliver of relief floods over me and I want to relax. I need to, but I don’t remember the last time there wasn’t an elephant sitting on my chest. I was so accustomed to having control of every aspect of my life that this feeling has thrown me off.
The silence draws on between us and people pass but no one looks in our direction.
I remove my arm from the back of the bench seat and create the space she wanted five minutes ago.
Right now, I need to escape.
Autumn clears her throat and moves toward me. It’s the first time she’s taken initiative, but I don’t want her pity attention.
“I’ve offended you,” she says, placing her hand on top of mine and squeezing. Her fingertips on me are comforting. “I’m sorry. Laughing was cruel. I didn’t realize you were seri—”
I avoid her gaze. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I deserve it.”
“Youdon’tdeserve that.” She shakes her head. “There’s no scoreboard with us.”
At the moment, I see her at her core and know she has a kind heart.
If she continues to touch me, I won’t be able to concentrate, so I slide my hand from under hers. “It’s lonely being me. I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Loneliness doesn’t care who you are,” she says, her voice calm. “I laughed because I was shocked. I’m sure a man like you can befriend anyone in Cozy Hollow, but you choseme. I don’t get why. I make shitty coffee and break into people’s homes.”
She has a few freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks. A light breeze blows through her hair.
“You interest me.”
She smiles. “I’m boring. Trust me.”
“I thought—” I stop and shake my head. “I thought there was a connection between us. It sounds stupid. Maybe I imagined it.”
It wouldn’t be the first time, but I hope it’s the last. Time to bury the shard of ego I have left and move on.
She swallows hard. “I work the morning shift, run the short trails in the evenings, and drink boxed wine while I watch slasher films. Every day is exactly the same. What’s interesting about that?”
I don’t respond because she’s too busy trying to convince herself we’d be terrible friends. But I’ll take her words at face value. If I’ve learned anything from my shitty breakup, it’s that there is truth to people’s words, especially the ones they speak about themselves.
I thought there was something between us. Silence lingers, and when our eyes meet again, that odd sense of déjà vu creeps in. She glances away.
Have we lived this life together before? I can’t shake that feeling.
“I should go,” I finally say as the awkwardness chokes me.
I stand, avoiding her gaze, not wanting to be swallowed whole by her. I’ll never beg or take time to convince someone to be friends with me. “I’ll see you later.”
“Alex,” she whispers, but there is nothing more to say.
I shove my hands into my pockets and walk away. I took a chance, and it didn’t work out. It happens to the best of us. Trying is what matters. At least I can tell Harper I put myself out there and it won’t be a lie.
It was presumptuous of me to think Autumn would want anything to do with me, especially after the hard time I’ve given her. First impressions are everything, and I blew it purposely as a protection mechanism.
