Page 8 of Catch My Fall (Catch)

I shivered involuntarily as I choked out an uneasy laugh.Fuck my life, can he really tell? I didn’t know what was going on with me where he’s concerned and I didn’t like it at all.

With far more bravado than I really possessed I pulled away and laughed at him. “I don’t know,Stan,” I said as I made a face that was meant to indicate I was thinking it through. “I’m just not sure you’re the man for the job. You’re forgetful and you drink Yoo-Hoo.” With a dramatic shudder of disgust, I took a step away from him as I laughed.

Holding up his Yoo-Hoo, he smiled at me. “Hey, this is the drink of champions! And what do you mean I’m forgetful? I’m the least forgetful person I know.”

“That’s a pretty sorry testament,” I said with a chuckle. “You forgot a pen for your first day of school and I had to provide you with one. I think it’s safe to say you’re forgetful.”

Trace and Austin’s bold laughter brought my attention to them. “What a little shit,” Trace exclaimed. Darby came out of the kitchen door and joined us, looking between Trace and Austin as they laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

Gesturing to his brother Trace said, “Apparently my brother pulled the forgotten pen thing on Mia today.” Looking at me, Trace explained, “I know for a fact that this moron had a backpack full of pens because Mom McKenzie was here yesterday loading us all up on supplies. I watched him put the pens in his bag.”

Part of mewas affronted that Tristan just got caught out in a lie, but a bigger part was flattered that he lied in order to get my attention. I was trying to think of a retort when Darby smacked him upside the head.

“You are so lame! What did you think, you were going to ask her to borrow a pen and she would just melt under the heat of your gaze? BLAH! It might work on every other trick-ass slut in this town, but it won’t work on Mia. You should be ashamed of yourself. I am sooo telling Mom!”

He looked beyond embarrassed and he raised his hands in surrender. “C’mon Darbs, don’t do that! It’s bad enough that she knows that I’m…” He broke off and looked at me uncomfortably.

Throwing his head back, Austin laughed. “Oh, this is fucking beautiful. Apparently this idiot is suffering from a case of humiliation.” Smiling at me he said, “What he’s trying to say is that it’s bad enough that my mom knows he’s allergic to commitment and that he’s got a revolving mattress. I’ll tell you what…It’s quite interesting that he couldn’t just say that in front of you. I’ve never seen anything like this shit before, ever.”

Tristan lookeduncomfortable and I couldn’t help but wonder what it all meant. With a chuckle and a shrug of his shoulders he said, “Dude, c’mon man, it’s not like that. I’m just keeping shit chill because she’s Darby’s friend and we’re obviously going to see her all the time. She’s gonna get to see plenty of my bullshit, trust me.”

Is it bad thatI wasn’t relieved at all that he obviously had no plans to hit on me?

Chapter Five

I was a nervous wreck on Wednesday morning because it was time to go to Business Math again, which meant I was about to see Tristan. There was another get-together at his house last night but he wasn’t there and I didn’t ask why. I can only assume he was out doing whatever it is that Malores do. I hate to admit it but I was actually let down that he wasn’t there, which was really a surprise. I don’t know what it is about him that made me so aware but it was nerve wracking to the nth degree.

This morning I found myself taking extra time getting ready and even though my brain was screeching at me to knock it off, I did it anyway. I brushed my hair so much thatit actually gleamed and the smidgen of makeup I had on was perfect. I’m not saying I was runway ready, lord knows that’s not true, but I think my face and hair looked as good as they possibly could.

After checking the weather app on my phone I pulled on my white shorts, which I paired with a red tank top and my red Chucks. Even though I can wind up with a pale-ish skin tone during the winter months, I’m generally a healthy caramel color so my legs looked good against the white of the shorts. Surveying myself in our over-the-door dorm mirror, I decided that my long blonde hair played well off my tan, and I nodded approvingly at my reflection. Grabbing my perfume, Coach’s Poppy, I sprayed the air and quickly walked through it before lifting up my book bag and heading out the door.

The walk across campus to class passed far too quickly for my liking and my wits weren’t quite about me as I stood just outside the door and took a deep breath for courage. Just as my hand reached for theknob, I heard Tristan’s voice coming from right behind me.

“Mimi, you smell amazing.”

I’m proud of myself that I only tensed up a very little bit. Turning around I raised an eyebrow and said, “Why thank you, Stan! Here I thought you wouldn’t like anything that isn’t Eau de Tramp.”

Instead of getting pissy or annoyed, he threw back his head and laughed. When he stopped, he gave me a devilish grin before replying, “It’s good to know you were thinking about me and whether I’d like it when you put on your perfume.”

Foot? Yeah, meet my mouth.

I wished that a hole the exact size of me would open up to take me away. Summoning up a tiny scrap of dignity, I batted my eyelashes at him dramatically and nodded. “Of courseI was thinking about you, Stan! You’re all that and a dish of peaches.” Giving him a little wink I spun on my heel, grabbed the doorknob, and went into class.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noted that he took the seat next to me as I pulled out my pen and notebook. When I was settled, he leaned over and set two unopened packs of pens on my desk—the same brand and color of the pen I had given him on our first day of class.

“What’s this?”

“It’s my way of apologizing for trying the forgotten-pen play on you. I know you think I’m a total tool, but I’m not like that to Darby and I won’t be like that to you.”

I looked from the pens to him in wonder.It was such a small, inconsequential thing really, but no guy had ever given me a gift before. I know it was just pens and not a book of poetry or something, but it was…unexpected.

Smiling shyly at him I said, “This was a really sweet thing to do. I don’t think you’re a tool, Tristan. I’ve just been teasing you. Sorry if I’ve given you a complex.”

Our instructor started the class at the perfect moment, leaving Tristan unable to formulate any kind of a comeback. I went away in my mind as the instructor droned on and on about the importance of Business Math. Instead of listening, I thought about how strange it was that I was able to have a joking back and forth with Tristan. I hardly know him at all, yet somehow I was comfortable enough to joke around with him, and that’s not something I’ve ever done with any guy.

Even before the incident, I was never the type to feel at ease around guys. My therapist says a lot of that is due to the utter lack of any kind of real relationship with my father. Back before the divorce when my fatherwas still married to my mom, he was always short tempered and easily annoyed with me. He spent a lot of his time yelling at my mother, belittling her sense of fashion, her weight, her voice, and even the books she read. He told me quite often that I was a disappointment to him because I hadn’t been a son, and, according to my therapist, I internalized all of that.

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