Page 22 of The Problem with Falling
I was almost sure I couldn’t say no, so I took her hand and danced.
I wasn’t even afraid of getting a splinter or two.
She repeatedly said how great of a night it had been, and I couldn’t stop laughing at how free she felt to me. I never knew freedom could be a person.
She was right about one thing—it was a good night.
CHAPTER 6
Theo
Present Day
Willow Kingsley was a fucking fairy.
I hated fucking fairies. Her over-the-top, bubbly spirit made me want to take a sharpened pencil to my eyeball. I hated how fake her personality seemed whenever she came into a room. No one was that happy. There was nothing in life to be that joyful about. I’d watched her interact with Grandma and PaPa over the past day, and it made my stomach turn in irritation. What was even worse was I had to be her chauffeur around town because Grandma asked me to show her the basics. The problem with driving around Little Miss Sunshine? She made friends everywhere we went.
Not only was Willow Kingsley a fairy, she was damn likable at that.
She’d only been in Westin Lake for twenty-four hours, and somehow, she’d found a handful of new friends within the smalltown. We started the morning at the restaurant, where she managed to mess up a dozen sourdough loaves.
“How hard could it be to make sourdough?” she stated with a large amount of confidence.
Then, when she baked them, they came out looking wonky as hell. She placed her hands on her hips, with a smile on those full lips, and said, “Oh. It could be that hard.”
She laughed as if she didn’t just waste my time and money.
The oddest part was that my whole body heated when she laughed. I didn’t know a person’s laughter could make me feel…warm.
I hated the feeling because it confused me. I hadn’t felt that kind of warmth since…
I shook my head, sending the thoughts flying far, far away. There were many things in my life I didn’t talk about. And even more things that I tried my best not to think about, too.
Per Grandma’s request, I gave Willow a tour of the small downtown area, which didn’t include much outside of a few restaurants, antique stores, and our grocery store, and somehow along the way, the social butterfly Willow exchanged numbers with at least ten people.
She made more friends within a day in my hometown than I had in my whole life. I wasn’t shocked by this, seeing how being an introvert was my superpower. At a point in my life as a kid, I wanted friends. The older I grew, the more I realized life was a lot easier without people around. If anything, I’d much prefer the company of a dog. They never brought much drama along with them, not like people did.
Willow, though, thrived in the company of humans. As I sat outside Pete’s diner, waiting for her to pick up her dinner, I watched her laugh her head off with Ms. Jerkins. That was surprising to me because Ms. Jerkins was laughingwithWillow. I couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, I’d heard Ms. Jerkinsactually chuckle. All I knew about her was that she was the grumpy old lady who lived on the corner of Race Street and Harrod Avenue, who was always telling kids to stay the hell off her lawn.
It was as if Willow had a natural talent for making people feel seen and safe around her—even the grumpiest souls.
“I can definitely stop by and help you water your plants tomorrow. It’s not a problem at all,” Willow told Ms. Jerkins before hugging her goodbye. Then Willow danced back over toward me on her tiptoes because that was how she moved—as if she were floating through life.
Fucking fairy.
“Sorry about that,” she said, smiling my way. “I just met Dolores. Do you know her?”
“I know everyone in this town.”
“How many of them know you?”
None.
I don’t let people get that close.
I didn’t reply to her. She didn’t seem to mind.
“I love small towns.” She smiled. “This one is like the small town I grew up in. Where everybody knows your first, middle, and last name.”
