Page 122 of Falling Backwards
“Mmhmm.”
Shortly, he’s as fixed up as I can get him.I’ve even convinced him to pull up his pants leg and let me tend to the scrape on his knee; even though it’s not bleeding much at all, it’s still kind of raw to look at, so it seems best to put a Band-Aid between that and the texture of his jeans.
He thanks me while I start washing my own hands again, and something in his tone makes me think he has slipped back into thought.
My stomach twists with fresh worry that he’s back to thinking of the dark places in our past now that there’s nothing to be preoccupied by.
I mean, I don’t know for sure that it was on his mind before, but the tension is so familiar—I’msofamiliar with how Luke’s vibe changes when he’s feeling resentful towards me.The strain has been as obvious between us as air in lungs ever since I started working at Lucent.Undoubtedly, he’s picked up on the same thing from me over these many months.
I’m not sure what to do about it.
And I don’t have time to try to figure it out before the sound of the front door unlocking meets my ears.He and I both look over as Joy comes in with a glare at the floor and annoyance all over her.
“Hey,” I call out, drying my hands.“Are you all right?”
Her expression says she’s about to answer with vehemence, but then she looks up from setting her umbrella aside and spots Luke.She summons some composure.
“Hey, you two.”After a sigh, she adds, “My blind date was stupid, that’s all.I mean, the experience was stupid, not the guy—” she scowls, “—except, honestly, I did think he was stupid because he thoughtIwas stupid and—but hey, girl, I’ll tell you later.I need pajamas and a hot chocolate before I even try to get into all that.”
I’m reminded of the wet-animal look that Luke and I still have going on.I agree on the need for warm pajamas, and I’m sure he’s ready to get home and get comfortable himself.
Maybe he’ll put on those sweatpants he bought,I dare to imagine.Get into a t-shirt with a hoodie or something.
Ifeel warmer just thinking about it—and about how cozy it must be to snuggle with him when he wears things like that.
I tune in to him and Joy exchanging goodbyes; he’s just said he’s about to leave.
Once she’s shut into her room, I tell him, “I’ll walk you to the door.”
He doesn’t say anything back as he heads that way, which makes my insides feel uneasy again.
I fret about it while he puts his shoes on.What do I do?Should I ask if he’s okay?Should I leave it be?Would checking on him make him act even more…whatever…towards me?
Still haven’t figured it out by the time he’s stepping into the hall.
I hold the door and stammer, “Um, g-goodnight.Be careful.I hope your hands feel a lot better soon.I’m really—really so sorry you fell.”
Now I feel bad aboutthatbecause he fell while we were running to the building because he’s been seeing me all the way up to this door because he’s pretending to—
“Hey.”
I blink and blink and realize I have his full attention…
…which…
…is not as tense as I was expecting.
It’sintense, but not tense.He looks like something is on his mind, yes, but he doesn’t seem upset or even sad.
Rather stupidly, I echo, “Hey.”
His eyes cling to mine, so blue beneath his rain-dampened mess of raven hair.
“You’re the ten,” he says.
Confusion touches me now.“What?”
But as those eyes drift away from my face, over my own wet hair, down over my dress and pantyhose-clad legs and shoeless feet, his words jog something in my memory.
