This Is Falling(58)

We stop at the small snack bar near the library, and I order us both large sodas. I give him his, carefully, so our hands don’t touch during the exchange. Why am I even thinking about this? Worrying about things like hands brushing, and smiles, and the fact that he’s looking at me like that again?

“I’m Tucker,” he says, reaching his hand in front of us while we start to walk again. Shit, I’m going to have to touch him.

“Hi. I’m Rowe.” I take his hand quickly and regroup my focus on my drink—also trying not to freak out over the fact that I’m pretty sure Tucker is now walking me home.

“Rowe. That’s a cool name,” he says, once again glancing at me sideways, this time holding the straw in his perfect, white teeth while he smiles. He’s cute. No, scratch that—he’s McConnell frat-boy-calendar hot. And a different me, a version without any issues, a me without a boy that I am pretty sure I want to love for a really long time, if not forever, would revel in the fact that hot-man-on-campus Tucker is obviously interested in me…in that way. But instead, all I keep thinking about is how I can lose him before we make it all the way to my building.

“Well, Tucker. Again, thank you so much for the help in class today,” I say, reaching to shake his hand before I cross the street to my dorm—like a business deal. He just laughs lightly while shaking his head, then shakes my hand back and pulls his backpack up on his shoulder.

“You got it, Rowe. Hey, I’ll see ya in class next week,” he says walking backward and leaving his eyes on me. “And thanks for the drink! Next one’s on me.”

“Sounds good.” Sounds good? No, it sounds awful, awkward, uncomfortable, stressful, unfortunate, and pretty much like the last thing I want to have happen. But the walk sign is now blinking, and Tucker has turned around, so I pick up my step and head for the front door to the dorm before he can see where I’m headed.

“Who’s mister hottie?” I hear Cass say as I round the corner to the front door to the lobby.

“Ahhhhh, okay. Uh, I need to have a serious talk with you and Nate about scaring me. Honestly, I’m thinking of making you two wear bells.” I keep my pace up and head to the elevator bank, but Cass is right in step with me.

“Right, got it. Won’t scare you. Now spill it about mister pecks and abs,” she says, pulling her sunglasses down on her nose to give me the full effect of her raised and suspicious eyebrows.

“How did you even see him?”

“Oh, easy. I was walking in with Nate, and he saw you both across the street. Then I stayed to watch for a while longer…pretty much because I’m super nosy, and I wanted to see what had him so pissed off. I get it now. That guy’s hot.”

Uhg. Nate witnessed that. I’m pretty sure I ceased any and all flirting immediately, but still. I wouldn’t be happy if it were Nate walking home with the female equivalent of Tucker. There’s a small piece of me that likes that Nate is jealous. We don’t talk about our feelings much, and I know that’s partly my fault. We talk about my fears mostly, and we’ve broken through so many of them. But we don’t talk about how he feels about me, and how I feel about him. Not really.

There was that brief moment, where he told me he loved me in the car on our way back from the airport, and when he said those words, my entire heart filled up with a joy I didn’t know existed. But then it left me just as fast—when he said he didn’t mean it. And I’m too afraid to open up that conversation again. Because I don’t know how to be in a relationship—when you’re not sixteen, and in high school, and going on dates that require you to be home before ten on weekends.

I told Josh I loved him almost immediately. We both said the words while making out in my driveway. But I know now we didn’t really mean them then. I meant them eventually, months after we’d been dating, when I realized how important and special he was to me. But I must have said them a hundred times before, and every time they were empty. I think that’s why I’m so afraid to say them to Nate, because I don’t want him to say them back just because he thinks he has to—like lines in a play, a reaction to my action. I don’t want this to be like when I was sixteen.

“So, I’m pretty sure you’re going to have to deal with that conversation with mister hottie,” Cass says to me as the elevator slides open, and she steps outside. She sees Nate waiting outside our door first, and when I step out and see him, shivers run down the length of my entire body. He. Looks. Pissed!

The closer I get, the more he tries to force coolness, but I can see there’s something simmering underneath. He kisses my cheek quickly, then sits backward at my desk chair, his legs wrapped around either side, and his knees bouncing up and down, just teeming with jealous energy.

I toss my backpack on my bed and pull my shoes from my feet before crawling up next to it, getting out my notebooks. Cass, obviously feeling the tension, just smiles at Nate with a nod and then leaves our room, actually shutting the door behind her. Oh god.

“What time do you think we should leave?” I ask trying my best to pretend like everything about the atmosphere in our room is normal.

“I don’t know, it takes an hour to get there, so five-ish?” His knees are still bobbing. I can see the motion from the corner of my eyes.

“Okay, I don’t need to do much to get ready, so we can still eat something before we leave.”