him on purpose during chores, touching his leg, brushing him with my hand. He’d watch me, his eyes missing nothing, until we were done and then we’d make out behind the toolshed. And he’d gotten really good at making up some reason he had to have help on a trip to town for errands; the parents would automatically send me. If I sat close to him on the way to town, he’d brush my leg with his fingers as he shifted gears. He’d park on some lonely road and the next half hour would be freeing, exciting—stabilizing, somehow.
After a few months of that, we’d finally talked about it.
Asked the questions hammering in our minds. Admitted neither of us wanted to stop. We’d established our three rules and sworn no one would ever find out.
Except now someone had.
We fell quiet. Claire passed the city limit sign. Manson was only four miles away, and barely even a town. It was mostly a cluster of buildings around the school. A burger place, a convenience store, and a bar were pretty much the town’s only businesses. A handful of houses flanked the four graveled streets.
We passed a small house with an unmowed yard the on the outskirts of town. The Wallaces had moved to St. Joseph a year ago; selling their house had probably fallen by the wayside when Ellie disappeared.
Claire saw me look at the house as we drove past. “You haven’t heard anything new about Ellie, have you?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Not since they found her backpack.”
“She’s been gone for what, four months?”
“Yeah.” Maybe if our volleyball team had been better, she wouldn’t have transferred. Maybe if I’d paid less attention to 80
Kate Brauning
Marcus in those early weeks, I would have spent more time with her and she would have kept in touch.
Claire pulled into the burger place and parked. Todd’s burgers were underwhelming, but they did perfect dipped cones.
Claire and I had been coming here for them every Saturday since we’d moved until she went to college last fall.
“So, this is a no-strings thing?” she asked. “You’re seriously just messing around?”
“Sure.” Until yesterday, I’d thought that was true.
“You can’t mess around with a friend. This whole thing is weird. You have to stop.”
“It’s worked so far.” Marcus would call me on that, but Claire wouldn’t.
We went inside and Claire ordered two dipped waffle cones with nuts. Since she ruined my morning, I let her pay. We took the cones outside and sat on the top of one of the picnic tables under the overhang. Potholes studded the crumbling asphalt and a big-eyed, bony hound wandered around by the curb.
My phone chimed, and I thought it would be a text from Marcus, but it was an email. Claire was staring at me, waiting for me to say something, so I opened the email instead. From Travis, the guy who followed my blog. He’d emailed me a few times once he found out I wanted to go to college for film stud-ies of some kind; he went somewhere with a film program. I skimmed the email. He wasn’t saying much. I shoved my phone in my pocket.
“I know it’s weird,” I said. “I don’t know what to do about it.”
Claire picked a nut off her chocolate. “Yes, you do. Stop making out.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s exactly that simple. Listen to me, Jacks.” She turned to face me. “I know you guys are close. But you’re going to cause a big problem if you keep doing this.”
81
How we Fall
I wouldn’t. Whatever happened, we could work through it.
“We’ve talked about that. We’re not letting things get complicated.” I could hardly believe what I was saying.
Claire tapped my hand so I’d look at her. “I know what I’m talking about,” she said. “I have exes. Even the ones who were nice guys, even when we said we’d stay friends—we don’t talk at all now. You know why?”
She didn’t need to treat me like a child. “I know what breaking up is.”
“Exes can’t be friends. It doesn’t work,
After a few months of that, we’d finally talked about it.
Asked the questions hammering in our minds. Admitted neither of us wanted to stop. We’d established our three rules and sworn no one would ever find out.
Except now someone had.
We fell quiet. Claire passed the city limit sign. Manson was only four miles away, and barely even a town. It was mostly a cluster of buildings around the school. A burger place, a convenience store, and a bar were pretty much the town’s only businesses. A handful of houses flanked the four graveled streets.
We passed a small house with an unmowed yard the on the outskirts of town. The Wallaces had moved to St. Joseph a year ago; selling their house had probably fallen by the wayside when Ellie disappeared.
Claire saw me look at the house as we drove past. “You haven’t heard anything new about Ellie, have you?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Not since they found her backpack.”
“She’s been gone for what, four months?”
“Yeah.” Maybe if our volleyball team had been better, she wouldn’t have transferred. Maybe if I’d paid less attention to 80
Kate Brauning
Marcus in those early weeks, I would have spent more time with her and she would have kept in touch.
Claire pulled into the burger place and parked. Todd’s burgers were underwhelming, but they did perfect dipped cones.
Claire and I had been coming here for them every Saturday since we’d moved until she went to college last fall.
“So, this is a no-strings thing?” she asked. “You’re seriously just messing around?”
“Sure.” Until yesterday, I’d thought that was true.
“You can’t mess around with a friend. This whole thing is weird. You have to stop.”
“It’s worked so far.” Marcus would call me on that, but Claire wouldn’t.
We went inside and Claire ordered two dipped waffle cones with nuts. Since she ruined my morning, I let her pay. We took the cones outside and sat on the top of one of the picnic tables under the overhang. Potholes studded the crumbling asphalt and a big-eyed, bony hound wandered around by the curb.
My phone chimed, and I thought it would be a text from Marcus, but it was an email. Claire was staring at me, waiting for me to say something, so I opened the email instead. From Travis, the guy who followed my blog. He’d emailed me a few times once he found out I wanted to go to college for film stud-ies of some kind; he went somewhere with a film program. I skimmed the email. He wasn’t saying much. I shoved my phone in my pocket.
“I know it’s weird,” I said. “I don’t know what to do about it.”
Claire picked a nut off her chocolate. “Yes, you do. Stop making out.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s exactly that simple. Listen to me, Jacks.” She turned to face me. “I know you guys are close. But you’re going to cause a big problem if you keep doing this.”
81
How we Fall
I wouldn’t. Whatever happened, we could work through it.
“We’ve talked about that. We’re not letting things get complicated.” I could hardly believe what I was saying.
Claire tapped my hand so I’d look at her. “I know what I’m talking about,” she said. “I have exes. Even the ones who were nice guys, even when we said we’d stay friends—we don’t talk at all now. You know why?”
She didn’t need to treat me like a child. “I know what breaking up is.”
“Exes can’t be friends. It doesn’t work,
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