Let Me: Let Me Fall Part 7

"Really? You're a decent driver?"

I laughed then as I sank into a chair opposite Jeremy. "No, I'm actually pretty bad. You should have seen me trying to get your soup. I had to back into a spot on Main with a Jaguar on one side of me and a brand new Mercedes convertible on the other. I was shaking by the time I cut the engine."

He laughed with me, shaking his head. "I can picture it. Now this soup tastes even better, knowing you risked your life getting it for me." After a minute he tipped the container over, drinking the last drops. "I think that was the best soup I've ever had."

"Yesterday I thought the same thing about the toast and tea my mom made me. I think you were just starving."

"No, ma chere, that soup was ooh la la good. Tres delicieux. "

"Your French accent isn't half bad."

"Briarwood," he said as he stood and made his way to a small kitchen where he dumped the container into the trash. "They have a good foreign language program. Better than Westerly. Better for me, anyway," he said, looking up at me again. "Everything was conversational, as opposed to written, so they really drilled you on proper p.r.o.nunciation."

"Do you miss it there?"

He grabbed a tee shirt and pulled it over his head before sitting back on the couch. What a pity, covering up that torso.

"Sometimes I miss it, like when I fail a test," he said, one corner of his mouth turning up. "But I like Westerly. I love playing football again. I have a great art teacher here...but then I miss having so many other artistic kids around like I did at Briarwood. Each place has its plusses and minuses, I guess," he said, shrugging.

"I hear that you're a great artist."

He shook his head. "I'm so-so, at best. But it was crazy at Briarwood. It seemed like every kid there was a prodigy in their own weird way. You stutter and can't read but you can play the guitar like Mark Knophler. You can't write your name legibly but you can sculpt like Donatello. Not everyone was like that but a lot of them were."

"Everyone has different types of intelligence. I truly believe that. You should hear Zach play the guitar. And I know building with Legos isn't really a talent but Thomas can construct entire cities with the most intricate details. He's also a programming whiz. Things I could never do."

He nodded. "That was the best thing about Briarwood. I never felt stupid there. The teachers made me feel like my art was important...just as important as reading. So I felt accomplished in some way, you know?"

"You're not stupid, Jeremy. Please don't ever say that."

He smiled tenderly at me. "I don't think that anymore, Carolyn. I really don't."

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment. I looked around, taking in some of the posters on the exposed brick walls. It was eclectic, with colorful modern art prints that I didn't recognize, some alternative rock band posters, one of Miles Davis blowing on his trumpet, and some sketches on canvas mixed in. "Did you do those?" I asked, pointing to a cl.u.s.ter of small canvases, each with a child in various poses.

"No. My friend, Andie, did them. She's still at Briarwood."

"They're beautiful."

"Yeah, they are. She's beyond talented...puts me to shame."

"I bet you're really good, you're just being modest." He shrugged in response. I should go, I thought at that moment, quit while the going's good. "It's getting dark, I'd better head out."

He grabbed a sweatshirt off the back of the couch and stood, slipping his feet into flip flops. "I'll drive your car and my dad will follow us."

I started to protest, "I'll be fine, I-"

"No way. I'm not gonna be responsible for you wrapping yourself around a tree. It was pretty b.a.l.l.sy taking the car out in the first place." He winked at me as he said, "Don't push your luck."

"Carolyn, can we meet at around one on Sunday?" He gestured to Frank. "I promised Frank that I'd help him in the morning." Samantha's head whipped around and she narrowed her gaze at me. The entire table turned to look at me as I felt my cheeks flush.

"Um, sure."

"Are we meeting at the library?" What the h.e.l.l was Jeremy doing? He'd never so much as spoken to me outside of our cubby in the school library and now he was making casual conversation in front of everyone in the cafeteria? Drew was next to me and I felt his hand still on my back. I was overreacting. This was no big deal. Relax, Carolyn.

"No," I answered casually. "The public library will be too loud on a Sunday. Come to my house." I looked to Drew then. "We're not going out with your parents until five, right?"

"Yeah," he said, hesitantly.

"Ok," I said, looking back at Jeremy. "One o'clock." Then I turned my attention back to Drew.

"Working overtime?" he asked.

"We didn't have any sessions this week and he has two major exams coming up."

He scooted in closer and pulled me so that my back was right up to his front. He whispered in my ear, "Maybe I need you to be my teacher, Carolyn." Then he nibbled my earlobe, making me squirm. I knew what Drew was doing, he was staking his claim. I saw Jeremy look up for a second before turning his attention back to Frank and the rest of the guys. "What are we doing after the game tonight, baby."

Baby?

The pet name didn't roll off his tongue easily and didn't sit well with me.

I scooted up a smidge, making some room between our bodies. "Nothing too late. Thomas's game is an hour away tomorrow morning. We're leaving at seven, remember?"

"Aw, Carolyn, I forgot. You mind if I skip it? I have a lot of c.r.a.p I've gotta catch up on tomorrow. Thomas won't care, right?"

"No, he won't care," I said, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. Thomas wouldn't care and that's what bothered me the most.

Drew never made much of an effort with Thomas. Occasionally Drew acted the part but it was just out of politeness; there was no real connection there. Drew obviously thought Thomas was peculiar and that hurt me. Was Thomas quirky? Absolutely. But he wasn't some oddball and that's kind of how Drew looked at him, eyes glazing over as Thomas would excitedly present his newest Lego creation or try to explain the differences between two obscure but similar species of birds.

Thomas's new found interest in sports was thanks to Jeremy, really. After throwing the ball with Jeremy that day at the lake, Zach and Thomas got it in their heads that they wanted to play football. Tom badgered my mom until she relented and Zach did the same. Now the two of them were playing on a team in the neighboring town.

Our town's league was hard core. Most of those kids had been playing since they were four or five; Thomas would never make that team. Thomas's league was more...egalitarian. Everyone got playing time despite their level of ability, and effort was highly regarded. Yeah, it was one of those leagues: winning isn't everything. I saw Drew smirk with disgust during the one and only game he attended when he heard the coach say, "Good try," for the umpteenth time. I, on the other hand, thought it was pretty cool that Thomas and Zach wanted to give something new a try. It was brave.

Drew gave me a squeeze and then followed Will, Mike and the rest of the guys outside for the last few minutes of the period.

"How is it, tutoring Jeremy?" Erica asked.

"It's going well," I said absently. "He's a hard worker."

"He told me you're...what did he say, exactly...like a walking, talking super nerd." Samantha laughed. When I ignored her, she tried to placate me. "Just kidding. He said you're the smartest girl he's ever met." The last sentence was muttered begrudgingly.

"What exactly is going on there, Samantha?" Erica asked.

"A few hot kisses, he's copped a feel...but I think tonight's the night. I'm inviting people to my house after the game. My parents are away." She looked to all of us. "Ask your parents if you can stay over."

"Wouldn't you want him there alone?" Kerri asked.

"No. I mean, I don't even know who it is that I want. If Will is there then that's who I'm going for. But if he really is hung up on Tori, then Jeremy will make a tasty plan B."

"Lucky Jeremy," I said quietly.

"What's that, Carolyn? Don't tell me you're still into him?"

I shot her a look meant to convey a warning: Don't you dare. Samantha was the only one who knew about my crush on Jeremy all those years ago. She was going to marry Warren Wells, I was going to marry Jeremy Rivers. She probably hadn't saved the notebook with her married name, Mrs. Samantha Wells, scribbled in it, though. She didn't have a note, once taped to a candy bar, that had nearly broken her heart years ago. Pathetic yes, but I still had those tucked away in a box where I kept all my special, private things.

"I'm not into him," I said, rolling my eyes, trying to convey how ridiculous the very idea of that was. "I just think you're being thoughtless, that's all. Would you like to be someone's back up plan?"

"I don't think getting with me would be, like, suffering for Jeremy. Socially, it will be a giant step up for him."

Thankfully, Kerri changed the subject because Samantha was making me physically sick. I couldn't stomach the thought of Jeremy's hands on her, or worse, the thought of him actually caring about her.

I went home right after the game. I knew that Drew and the rest of my friends wound up at Samantha's. I called his phone after Thomas's game at around ten the next morning. No answer. No one was answering; I tried Erica, Kerri and Samantha.

"Hey," Drew greeted me, sounding groggy. He'd finally gotten around to calling me at three that afternoon.

"Hey yourself. Rough night?"

"Yeah." Pause. Uncomfortable, long pause. "I wish you came with me last night."

"Why's that?" I was being cold but I couldn't help it, my intuition told me something was wrong.

"No reason," Drew answered, his voice suddenly clearer and brighter. "I just missed you."

"Sounds like you just woke up."

"I didn't get in until like...five, I guess."

"Did everyone stay that late at Samantha's?"

"I don't know. I drove home with Will. I think he hooked up with Kerri."

"What?" I blurted out, shocked. "Does Samantha know that?"

"Why would Samantha care? She looked pretty busy with Jeremy."

Ugh. "Jeremy was kind of her back up plan. She's probably going to skewer Kerri."

"How was your night?"

"You know I just went home, Drew," I said, annoyed. He was trying to change the subject but he wasn't getting off that easy. "Why were you there so late?"

"It got kind of crazy. I think a lot more people showed up than she antic.i.p.ated. It was wall to wall. I just did too many shots. I pa.s.sed out."

"Alone?"

"What are you asking me, exactly?" Drew sounded p.i.s.sed.

"The same thing you would ask me if I told you that I was at a party until five in the morning without you and you didn't hear from me until the next afternoon."

"Jesus, Carolyn. All right, you're right...I would ask. And the answer to your question is yes, I was alone." I was silent on my end of the line. "Hey, Carolyn, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have had so much to drink, ok? You want to come over? We'll hang out here and watch a movie. Come have some Chinese food with me. Help me nurse this vicious hang over."

"Sounds tempting, really, but I'll pa.s.s."

"Don't, Carolyn."

I blew out a breath. "I'm not mad, Drew. I just feel...I don't know...b.i.t.c.hy. It's just better if we don't hang out. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"We're ok?"

"Yeah."

"Ok. I'll call you later."

I felt like saying: Please don't. I wanted to bear my claws at him for no reason, really. I was mad at the girls, too. Why wasn't anyone calling me back? And I was mad at Jeremy. And sad for Jeremy. And mad at Samantha.

Ugh.

Kerri came by at around five, looking like h.e.l.l. Her hair was pulled up in a wet ponytail, her face was pale and she looked exhausted. I heard my mom let her in. She burst right into my room after knocking once and flopped herself onto my bed.

"I have something to tell you."

"You hooked up with Will?"

Kerri flung her arm over her face for a moment and then sat up and looked at me wide-eyed. "Drew knows?"

"He wasn't sure. Sounds like I missed quite a party." I sounded bitter to my own ears.

"I was doing shots, everyone was. Samantha made these gelatin shots. I think they had grain alcohol in them. I didn't do that many. I just remember wanting to dance and then feeling really woozy." She started to cry. "I woke up next to Will with no clothes on."

"Oh, Kerri." I held onto her as she wet the front of my shirt with her tears. "What did Will say?"

"I could tell he was as horrified as I was. He doesn't like me that way, Carolyn. He doesn't have any feelings for me. Will asked me if we slept together and I said-" She started bawling again, choking out the words, "I said...I said I didn't know."

"Shh," I said, rocking her. "It's okay, Kerri. Will is a good guy. He won't say anything."

"I know he won't. He was so freaking nice this morning. He apologized a million times, helped me find my clothes and made sure no one saw us leave the room together. He drove me home before going back for Drew. I'm so embarra.s.sed."

"Does Samantha know?"

"I don't know," she said, eyes cast down. "I'll find out soon enough." She was wringing her hands then. "What if I did sleep with him, Carolyn? My first time and I don't even remember it?" She started crying again.

"It could be worse, Kerri." I spoke from experience. "Really," I said when she looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "It could have been someone like Chase, who wouldn't think twice about telling the entire school and branding you a s.l.u.t. Will Clarke won't let you get hurt. I'm sure of that."

She sniffled and nodded. "You're right."

"Are you sore?" I asked tentatively.

"No. If I'm not sore does that mean I didn't do it?" Kerri asked, hopeful.

"I don't know," I lied. I was sore that next day, not terribly but enough to know that something had most definitely been there.