The Girl I Was Before (Falling #3)(67)

“What do you study, Houston?” Rowe asks from the corner seat. Rowe always sits in a corner, her back to the wall. There was a shooting at her high school a couple years ago, and some of her friends didn’t survive. She’s only talked to me about it once. It strikes me how much she and Houston have in common.

“I’m in the Computer Science program. I’m a geek,” he shrugs.

“Oh, well that’s good,” Cass laughs, winking at me again. It doesn’t feel good this time. “My sister only falls for meathead athletes. You should be safe.”

I can’t stop the instant sour face I make at her statement, but I catch it quickly, before she notices. Not before Rowe, though.

“There’s nothing wrong with meatheads,” Rowe says through nervous laughter. She doesn’t like confrontation, and I think she might be changing the subject for me.

“Oh, no…I didn’t mean Nate,” Cass continues, putting her hand on Houston’s arm as she shifts her body to face him more. My eyes lock on that small touch, and I know the sour face is back. When I look at Rowe, she’s looking at me still. Double shit. “You see, Paige had a thing for Nate when school first started, but he was into Rowe. It was a little awkward, because we were all living together then. But turns out Nate wasn’t really her type anyway, wouldn’t you say Paige?”

I nod in agreement, reluctantly, my stomach sick. I’m too worried about where this conversation is going to be insulted by it.

“And what’s her type?” Houston asks. I kick him again under the table, and I don’t care that both Cass and Rowe see it.

“Well…” Cass smirks.

“Be nice,” I point at her, relieved when the waitress drops my drink off at the table. At least I can busy myself with the straw.

“Paige needs someone who has a spotlight,” Cass starts. I feel Houston shift, and I keep my eyes at my drink. I should argue with her, be offended or defend myself. But the old me, the girl I was before, wouldn’t. She’d agree. “Paige has always been a leader. Ever since grade school. I think maybe it started when the principal let her cut the ribbon to unveil the new playground equipment. Do you remember that?”

I nod, the face I show on the outside a little proud, my inside face nothing but worried about where this is going—and what Houston will think of me the more he learns.

Leah, Leah, Leah.

“Paige got to be the first one to go down the slide, and after that, it became known as her slide. She didn’t name it, the other kids did. They wanted her in charge,” Cass says. I know she’s sharing this because she’s trying to show how proud she is of me. But I also sound like a diva. “It’s always been like that—the kids at school looking to Paige to see what to do next. And if she decided a guy was the it guy, he became the it guy. And then he was hers. And every girl always wanted him. Even when she was done. Because Paige Owen’s exes were still better than any other guy in school.”

“So we’re talking like quarterback, homecoming king stuff, huh?” Houston chuckles. He’s amused by these stories about me. I fear he won’t be for long.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Cass says, chewing with her mouth open. All I feel is embarrassed. “She’s never dated a computer geek, unless of course he was on his way to being a tycoon.”

Maybe it’s her laugh that follows that makes me react. It’s not any different from her normal laugh, but for some reason—at this moment—it strikes me like a cackle. It’s harsh, and I feel small.

“So as you can see, I’m super shallow,” I butt in before Cass says anything more. I speak through a tight smile, my heart sad to hear how my sister sees me. This is how everyone sees me. And they all think I’m fine with it.

“Paige, that’s not what I meant…” Cass says quickly. The laughing has stopped.

I step out from the booth with my purse in my hand and my backpack looped over my shoulder. “I know,” I say, smile still tight. Always. Tight. Everything always perfect. “Stories about me just sort of come out that way, though.”

The table falls silent. I just made things uncomfortable. I’m not sure what she was expecting. That I’d laugh along with her? Or maybe that I’d tease back. That’s all this was—teasing. I guess I’ve outgrown being in the mood for it. Or maybe it’s the fact that Houston was here for it. Maybe…maybe I’m worried about the butterflies and fairytales.

“I’ve got a lot of homework, so I’m going to head back,” I say over my shoulder. “Cass, you can buy my drink.”

I pick up my pace as soon as I exit the building, disappointed in myself—in the person I am, the person I was, and the person who just let that all play out inside the restaurant. My phone chirps, so I pull it from my pocket. It’s Cass.

That all came out wrong. I’m so sorry.



I don’t respond. I know she was just telling stories, trying to be funny, but f*ck if it didn’t hurt.

I’m rounding the corner, ready to walk down the fraternity row when I stop in my tracks. The sidewalks are busy, and for a second, I swear I see Carson walking with Chandra. When I focus, though, I realize it isn’t them.

“Hey,” I hear Houston’s familiar voice, his hand brushing against mine. I push my hand into the pocket of my jacket so he can’t touch it again.