This Is Falling(21)

“I think you should pick Sigma,” I say, not really having a clue what Sigma or Delta or any of the other goddamned annoying letters she’s been spewing for the last thirty minutes mean. Frankly, I want to set up appointments with every single one of McConnell’s sororities to warn them not to accept her, to let them know what a step down they would be taking in terms of their own personal standards. But I don’t. I don’t because I also would give anything for Paige to move out and leave Cass and me here alone.

“I think I’ll pick Delta,” she says, just to spite me. Whatever.

There’s a light knock on the door, but I’m the only one who hears it. It’s Nate. I know it’s Nate. I actually recognize his knock, which is dangerous and scary, and makes my heart feel panicky things that I don’t like. He knocks again, this time a little louder, and Cass stands up from her bed and walks over to let him in. Ty is with him, and I’m relieved.

“Hey, ladies. Your heroes have arrived,” Ty says, tugging on the loops of Cass’s jeans and pulling her onto his lap. She giggles when he does, and just watching them makes me smile. Everything is so…easy. I look at Nate, and he’s smiling just like I am when looking at his brother and Cass, and I wonder if he’s feeling the same longing and reservations.

“Took you long enough. I’m starving!” Cass says, grabbing her purse and looping it across her body. “We’re going to grab dinner at the cafeteria. You coming, Rowe?”

“Oh, no. I’m fine. I’ll just eat something here.” My excuse floods from my mouth quickly, maybe too quickly.

“You don’t have anything. Come on, just come,” she says, reaching for my hand and pulling me to a stand.

“I’ll go,” Paige says, pulling the extra layer of shirt off of her arms to make sure the one-size-too-small tank top is squeezing her boobs enough to make part of them spill out. I don’t want to go. I don’t do public places well, especially cafeterias that are crowded with people. But Paige is already positioning herself close to Nate, and she’s making excuses to touch him, pointing to something on his shirt and lifting the back of his shirt to “look at the tag on his jeans to see what kind they are.”

“Okay, I’ll go.” I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t know how I’m going to survive this. But thank you, jealousy, for being a force to be reckoned with, perhaps the only emotion strong enough to conquer fear.

We’re walking out the door, and my heart is pounding so fast I honestly think I might have a heart attack. I try to keep my arms out to my sides because my armpits are sweating profusely. I’ve never been so nervous in my entire life.

“Whose phone is ringing? Cass is that you?” Paige says, tugging at her sister’s purse. She’s on the other side of Nate, and has to reach across him to reach Cass, which is the only reason she is doing that, and I know it. I know it because it’s my phone that’s ringing, and every single one of us knows it. It’s obvious, and Paige is pathetic.

“It’s mine. You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up,” I say, pulling my phone out and seeing my mom’s contact info.

“I’ll wait. We’ll catch up,” Nate says, leaning against the wall and nodding to me to take my time. He’s waiting. For me. And I’m so glad, but also mortified that he’s going to hear me talk to my mom. And she’s going to ask questions. Personal ones—ones that I don’t want to answer in front of him.

“Hi, Mom,” I say, trying to sound just the right mix of positive and neutral.

“Well, you sound good,” she says, already analyzing. My mom is an economist. But somewhere along the way she decided she’s also Dr. Phil.

“Yeah, just going to get some dinner. What’s up?” I say, trying to urge her to be fast, but also not encourage too many questions.

“You’re going out?” Shit.

“Yeah, I’ve made some friends. My roommate is really nice. We’re going to eat.” I spare a quick glance at Nate, and he’s grinning at me. I’m so embarrassed that he’s listening, because I know my mom is about to go on and on about how important friends are, and how proud she is of me for trying hard. And there she goes.

“Honey, you’re doing so well. This is only going to get easier, too. Friends are an important part of the healing process…”

I tune the next part out, because I’ve heard this speech before. Friends equal healing, yeah…got it. Ross said this to me once in a joint session with my mom, and she clung to it. I don’t think she even knows what those words mean anymore, she just repeats them to me over and over—like it’s a cheer—until I reach the invisible finish line.

“Look, Mom. I’m sorry, but they’re waiting on me. I don’t want to make them wait,” I say, staring right at Nate, who’s the only one really waiting.

“Okay, well, call me tomorrow. Let me know how classes go,” she says, not hanging up right away.

“Right. Okay, love you,” I say, suddenly really dreading the idea of going to the cafeteria full of people. But there is some truth to what my mom says—friends are part of healing.

“Ready?” Nate says, kicking off from the wall and holding his arm out for me. I don’t take it—not because I don’t want to, because god, do I want to—but because I don’t like what it means if I do. I used to take Josh’s arm. He used to sprint from his class to mine, waiting for me outside my door just to walk me to my next class. It was our thing, and I think that means it can’t be a thing I do with anyone else.