This Is Falling(39)

“Yeah, well, you can turn her head completely around on her body, so that’s kinda hard to top,” I say, trying to set her at ease again.

“Oh, mine does that too,” she winks. Yeah, heart…stolen.

My parents meet us at the only semi-nice restaurant near campus. My mom says it’s not a fancy dinner unless the place serves you bread before you eat, so she always insists on places like this. It’s a steakhouse called Morgan’s, and I’m just excited my parents are picking up the bill.

“Rowe, Cass, so glad you both could join us,” my mom says, reaching around to hug both of the girls. I pull out Rowe’s seat next to me, and she slides in, her fingers gripping at the side of her dress.

“So, Cass. Ty tells us you’re studying physical education? Do you hope to teach?” my dad asks. I notice Rowe’s hands flex and tighten even more as Cass responds to my dad’s question. She’s waiting for the question to come to her next, and she’s worried because she doesn’t have an answer. We’re also sitting in the middle of the restaurant, and I can see her eyes darting from side to side, sneaking in glances at her surroundings. Without even thinking, I slide my hand to her leg and reach for her fingers. She startles at first, and I give her the tiniest shrug, hoping she’ll use me for strength—just for tonight. Her hand moves to mine, and soon she’s holding my hand tightly.

“I’d like to get into rehab work,” Cass finishes explaining. I watch as my mom looks over to Ty, nodding and smiling with her approval. Ty rolls his eyes, but I know he likes Cass a lot.

“How about you, Rowe? What are you studying?” my dad asks, and I feel her grip somehow get even tighter. You’d never know the exertion happening under the tablecloth by the look of complete calmness Rowe is showing up above, and I’m actually pretty impressed.

“Well, I haven’t really decided yet. But I’m thinking about philosophy or art.” Her voice trails up at the end, almost like she’s asking a question, so anxious for my parents to approve. Rowe has no idea how perfect her answer was, but she’s about to find out.

“You know, Cathy’s an artist,” my dad says, always the first to brag about my mom.

“I have a small studio,” my mom says modestly. The truth is my mom has three small studio galleries in New Orleans and California, and she sells a lot of her work. She does sculpture and metal work, and I don’t know much about her world, but I know people pay her a lot of money when they commission a piece.

“You should check out my mom’s website,” I say, getting Rowe’s attention. “She does metal sculpture. I bet you’d like it.” Rowe bites at her lip and smiles, her grip on my hand loosening with every minute that passes.

“Here…I have a card.” My mom reaches into her purse and pulls out a bent card with her website listed on it, and Rowe studies it closely.

“Thanks, I will,” she says, her smile somewhere between wonder and relief. She leans down to tuck the card in her purse.

Rowe relaxes even more when the waitress shows up, cutting her interview with my parents short. Minutes later, we’re all picking at the loaf of bread dropped off at our table, too interested in the garlic butter and toasted edges to pay any more attention to conversation.

I let Rowe’s hand go, but only for a few minutes while we place our orders and take our drinks. And as soon as the waitress leaves our table, I reach for her again, and her hand is actually waiting for mine.

“Oh, we ran into the Maxwells,” my mom starts, sucking all air from my lungs. I don’t know why she thinks this is a good direction for dinner talk, but I’m rapidly trying to get Ty’s attention, hoping he can help me make a conversational U-turn somehow. But no, he only makes it worse.

“Yeah? Was that slut Sadie with them?” Ty has a way with words, and those just made sure Cass and Rowe were completely dialed in on whatever my mom says next.

“Ty, your mouth,” Mom says.

“Oh, right. Sorry. I guess the appropriate term is hooker. Is that the nice way to categorize your brother’s cheating ex-girlfriend?” I kick Ty’s chair under the table, and he finally looks up. “What? That’s what she is!”

I keep trying to motion my eyes to Rowe sitting next to me, and finally he gets it and just mouths sorry, returning his attention to the salad now in front of him.

“Anyway,” my mom continues. “We didn’t see Sadie, just her parents. But they said she took the scholarship to Oklahoma State.”

Great. My cheating ex-girlfriend, the first and only girl I said I loved, is playing basketball for a college less than ninety miles from me. And I find this out while desperately clinging to the fingers of the girl sitting next to me. The girl I want. The only thing I’ve thought about since I met her almost a month ago. The girl who says I’ll probably never meet her parents because we’ll never be anything more than whatever the hell it is we are right now. And all I can do is be okay with it all, because her problems are a hell of a lot heavier than mine.

“Ha, I bet you run into her,” Ty says, and this time I throw a piece of lettuce at him, like I’m four. When my mother isn’t looking, he just gives me his middle finger, and Rowe lets go of my other hand.





Rowe





Everything changed when Nate’s parents brought up Sadie. His posture was different, his breathing was different, the way his hand felt in mine—different. Nate’s mom told a few stories about him and Sadie, talking about how they won prom king and queen in high school, and how Nate had this secret crush on Sadie his junior year and used to go to all of her basketball games and leave before the end of the fourth quarter, afraid to talk to her.