The Girl I Was Before (Falling #3)(83)

“Then that would be wonderful, Paige. But…” her brow pinches as she sighs. “But you are young. And I know from watching Houston what it looks like when someone grows up way too fast. You may fall in love many times in your life, but if you fall this time, you take two people with you. And that makes changing your mind pretty hard.”

We stare at one another for a few seconds. Neither of us is upset; there’s a strange sense of mutual understanding instead, maybe even appreciation. I do appreciate her. As much as I wish like hell I didn’t hear everything going on in her head right now, I knew I had to hear it. It mirrors a lot of the things going on in my own head. Joyce and I are a lot alike, it’s just when she’s blunt with her words, they come out a lot nicer.

“Thank you for hearing me out,” she says, finally, pulling her purse to her shoulder. “Leah should be down soon. She likes it when you draw faces on the pancakes with the blueberries.”

I nod as she leaves, and as soon as the door closes, I search for the blueberries, because that task is so much easier than the other one she laid out for me—the one that requires me to question my feelings and my heart.



Houston



We haven’t talked about it, but I’m sure she’s seen it too. I checked as soon as I woke up to see if the story about Chandra had posted. It had, and there were no less than fifty comments from readers at the bottom. They didn’t use Paige’s photos in the story. It wasn’t a long piece; more of a breaking-news item really. There was a quote from the coach about her official dismissal from the soccer team, and a vague statement from the university on its position on drug usage within sororities and fraternities.

The pictures were out, though. I’m not sure if it was someone at the paper, or if, perhaps, the other people Paige sent them to felt brave enough to begin Tweeting and sharing the photos. By the time we left for the game, a simple search for Chandra Campbell anywhere pulled up dozens of copies of the same image.

Paige was right. This shot—it was indisputable. It’s clearly her, and the things around her are pretty intense—pipes, crystals, and lots of powder.

In a rush, we left the house for Nate’s game. Paige said she was anxious to see her sister. I’m assuming to talk to her about the story and the pictures. Nobody on the outside would ever know she’s the inside source mentioned, but Cass might just be enough on the inside to know.

We’re sitting in a section by ourselves when Ty and Cass come up behind us. As soon as Paige hears them, she removes her hand from mine, crossing her arms in front of herself, closing herself off. It’s pretty clear we’re not sharing us with Cass today—and that disappoints me. I tuck that feeling away, though, because there are other things on her mind, other major things she’s dealing with, and as anxious as I am to shout my feelings for her from a rooftop, I know it can wait.

“Houston, my man,” Ty says, slapping my back hard. “Come check out the good seats with me. I get special access.”

I look to Paige, and she’s staring in her lap at her phone, sifting through messages—not making eye contact. This is weird; this whole thing—feeling—is weird.

“Yeah, sure,” I say, leaning into Paige. I notice she leans a little away, to the left, as I come closer. “I’m going to head over there with Ty. I’ll be right back.”

“Sure,” she says, her eyes never moving up.

“Ooooookayyyy,” I say with a sigh. I follow Ty down a ramp near the front to a group of seats by the dugout. His brother steps out and shakes both our hands.

“Hey, Houston. Thanks for coming. And thanks for bringing that one,” Nate chuckles, nodding in Paige’s direction.

“Well, it was hard to get the rope around her, but she came willingly after that,” I joke. They both look at me silently for a few seconds, then erupt into laughter.

“Dude, for a second I thought you might be serious,” Ty says.

“I know; I mean Paige can be stubborn,” Nate says, kicking the mud from his cleats against the brick wall between us.

I turn back to glance at her, watching her talk—yet very much not talk—to her sister and Rowe. “Yeah…she can be stubborn all right,” I say, letting my eyes linger on her until she looks up and meets me in the middle. She’s saying something with that expression—but f*ck if I know what it is. Maybe she’s just tired. I slept, and she never took a nap.

“So what’s the plan?” Nate asks Ty, the rest of the team starting to gather behind him to stretch and throw.

“You said something about a barbecue. Where’s that at?” Ty asks. I’m watching their conversation, only half involved.

“That apartment complex over on Center. Cash lives there along with a few football players,” Nate says.

“Beer?” Ty asks.

“Always,” Nate laughs.

“We’re in. Houston, dinner’s on me,” Ty says, slapping my arm.

“Isn’t it just a barbecue at someone’s house?” I ask.

“Precisely. That’s why it’s on me,” he laughs. I smile and nod, never committing or agreeing, but letting the conversation keep moving onto topics like Ty’s work schedule and the series Nate has next week. If Paige goes, I’ll be there…until I have to go home. I feel bad just leaving Leah with my mom, and I feel like I’ve done that—a lot—lately.