The Girl I Was Before (Falling #3)(104)

“Sexist,” I accuse.

“I think the kid just thought she was pretty,” he shrugs.

“Then call her pretty. Don’t call her babe,” I say, sitting up a little taller.

He watches me carefully, his lips in a tight smirk.

“What if I call you babe?” he asks after a few seconds.

“I’d punch you,” I say.

Houston chuckles to himself, letting his gaze draw forward to the field, watching the players come out to begin throwing. When he doesn’t notice, I punch him in the arm.

“Owwww, what the…” he says, rubbing the sore spot.

“Technically, you did call me babe…just then,” I glower. I can only hold my tough-girl act up for a few seconds though, because he mocks me, and it makes me laugh. Our laughter fades after a minute, and eventually we’re just looking at each other.

“I miss her,” I admit.

“She punched a boy,” he says. “I think it’s fair to say she misses you too.”

Our stares only grow deeper, but never uncomfortable. It’s like I’m reacquainting myself with every nuance of his face, remembering things so I can revisit them later, so I can use those visions to find the strength to let myself fall.

Our small moment together is quickly interrupted by a familiar voice—a student reporter who has been calling me repeatedly for information on Chandra’s photos. Apparently, he interns at the Herald and saw something in someone’s notes. I’m pretty sure he’s breaking some major ethics rules by pursuing me, but I don’t have anything to lose over those photos now, so I haven’t wanted to make a big deal of it with the paper. I’m just not sure talking with him would be a great move for my student-government campaign. So I’ve been dodging his calls and deleting emails instead. I can keep this up for a while.

When I glance over my shoulder, I notice he’s talking with my sister. Houston is talking with Nate, who’s stopped over by the first-base wall. I pull my phone back into my lap and lean to my right, wanting to hear what the reporter is asking Cass. When I hear him bring up Chandra, Cass dismisses it quickly, as if the entire thing—and Chandra—are no big deal. It makes me smile.

“Crazy how that whole Chandra thing blew up, huh? The way those pictures found their way online?” Ty says to me over a few rows of seats to the section I’m in. I glance up at him ready to bluff, but I can tell right away in his eyes that he knows, and that he’s proud of me.

“Yeah…” I say, standing and straightening my shorts and blouse, pulling my purse onto my arm. “Definitely…crazy.” I lean forward and whisper to Houston that I’m getting a drink, then turn to take the steps slowly, not wanting to draw the attention of my reporter friend, or to look like I’m running. I’m not. I’m done running. But I’m also done making a scene.

I give Ty one more look over my shoulder, and he’s still watching me, just as I expected, so I give in, and nod—just a little. He winks in return.

He and I…we’re better when we’re on the same side.



Houston



All I wanted was a do-over, a window, just one damn opening so I could figure out what the hell went wrong. But now that I’ve got my do-over, I sort of wish I could just pick up where we left off instead, because now I don’t know what’s next. Part of me wants to scoop her up into my lap and kiss her right here in front of everyone. Then, there’s part of me that thinks she’ll smack me in the face if I do.

“You look nervous,” Rowe says, sliding into Paige’s seat while she’s gone. I smile at her, rubbing my neck while I turn to look to see where Paige is. When I don’t see her anywhere, I turn back to Rowe with a heavy sigh.

“I might be. I mean, I am. Can you tell? Is it bad?” I wince. I swear to god I was more confident in my game when I was a teenager. Fatherhood has done a number on me.

Rowe laughs lightly as she twists to the side in her seat, pulling one knee in while she faces me.

“She’s nervous too,” she says. For some reason, this helps. This helps a shit-ton.

“Has she…mentioned…” I’m careful with my words to her. Paige has always been very private about us, and I don’t want to mess things up by telling someone too much.

Rowe lets out another breathy laugh, nodding yes while she looks down in her lap. “I think we all sort of know you two have, had, are, was, were, are working on a thing,” she says.

“That’s one way to put it,” I chuckle, relaxing lower into my seat. I wish I wore a hat today. If I did, I’d pull it down so I could hide.

“Paige and I talked…a little,” she says. This has my attention, and I sit up again, leaning forward with my arms on my knees, wringing my hands, and cracking my knuckles. “She only left because of Leah’s trust, you know. Or…you should know.”

Trust? My brow bunches, and I’m sure I’m staring blankly at her trying to decipher why in the hell Paige would think she had anything to do with Leah’s trust, when understanding washes over me. “Ahhhhhhh,” I breathe, shutting my eyes. “She thought that Chandra would use her against us.”

“She did,” Rowe says. “I guess she ran into her at that party, and…”

“And that’s when she came home to me, and said she had to leave,” I finish. Rowe notices something over my shoulder, and I can tell by the face she’s making that Paige is on her way back.