Page 195
Story: After We Fell (After 3)
“You almost what?” I stop her attempt at walking farther and pull her to the wall beside a jewelry store. The sun reflects off the enormous diamond rings on display in the window, and I lead her a few feet down the brick wall to get away from the glare.
“It’s silly.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and stares at the cement. “But I feel like I can breathe for the first time in months.”
“Is that a good thing or . . .” I start to ask, tilting her chin so she has no choice but to look at my face.
“Yes, it’s a good thing. I feel like for once everything is working out. I know it hasn’t been for long, but this is the most functional we have ever been. We’ve only had a handful of arguments, and we communicated our way through them. I’m proud of us.”
Her comment amuses me, because we still argue and banter constantly. It’s not only a handful of arguments, but she’s right: we’ve been talking our way through things. I love that we argue, and I think she does, too. We’re totally different people—we couldn’t be more different, really—and getting along with her all the time would be boring as hell. I couldn’t live without her constant need to correct me or her nagging about my mess-making. She’s annoying as hell, but I wouldn’t change a fucking thing about her. Except her need to be in Seattle.
“Functional is highly overrated, baby.” To prove my point, I lift her by the thighs, wrapping her legs around my waist, and kiss her against the wall right in the middle of one of the busiest streets in Seattle.
Chapter one hundred and twenty
TESSA
How much longer?” Hardin complains from the passenger seat.
“Less than five minutes; we just passed Conner’s.” I know he’s well aware of how short the distance is from here to the apartment; it’s just that he can’t keep himself from complaining. Hardin drove most of the way until I finally persuaded him to let me finish the trip. His eyes were nearly closing, and I knew he needed a break. My point was proven when he stretched his arm across the center console, holding me as best he could while I was driving, and fell asleep almost instantly.
“Landon is still there, right? You talked to him?” I ask. I’m beyond excited to see my best friend. It’s been far too long, and I miss his kind words of wisdom and never-faltering smile.
“Yes, for the tenth time,” Hardin replies, clearly annoyed. He’s been anxious the entire drive, even though he won’t admit it. He shrugs it off like he’s annoyed because of the distance, but I get the feeling there’s something else behind his frustration. I’m not entirely sure that I want to discover what it is.
When I pull into the parking lot of the apartment building that I used to call home, my stomach turns, and my nervousness begins to creep to the surface.
“It’ll be fine.” Hardin’s reassuring words surprise me as we enter the front door.
The small elevator feels so alien as it rises up the building. It feels as if so much more than only three weeks have passed. Hardin keeps his hand over mine until we reach the door, where he slides the key into the lock and pushes it open.
Landon jumps to his feet from the couch and strides across the room with the brightest smile I’ve seen him wear in the seven months since we became friends. His arms wrap around my back, and he hugs me, welcoming me, and making me aware of just how much I’ve missed him. Before I know it, I’m sobbing and heaving deep breaths into my friend’s chest.
I’m not sure why I’m crying so much. I’ve just missed Landon terribly, and his warm reaction to my return made me emotional.
“Can her old man get a turn?” I hear my father say from somewhere a little ways off.
Landon starts to back away, but Hardin says, “In a moment,” and nods toward Landon, assessing my mental state.
I launch myself at Landon again, and his familiar arms wrap around my back again. “I missed you so much,” I tell him.
His shoulders visibly relax, and he unwraps his arms from my body. When I go to hug my father, Landon stays nearby, his smile still bright and loving as ever. Looking at my father, I realize that he must have known that I’d be coming to visit. It looks like he’s wearing Landon’s clothes and they’re tight on his body. I notice that his face is clean-shaven.
“Look at you!” I exclaim with a smile. “No beard!”
He whoops a loud laugh and hugs me tighter. “Yeah, no more beard for me,” he says.
“How was the drive?” Landon asks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his navy-colored slacks.
“Shit,” Hardin says at the exact moment I say, “Good.”
Landon and my father both laugh, Hardin looks annoyed, and I’m just happy to be home . . . with my best friend and the closest relative that I’m in contact with. Which only reminds me that I have to call my mother, which I keep putting off.
“I’m going to put your bag in the bedroom,” Hardin announces, leaving the three of us to continue our welcoming. I watch as he disappears into the room we once shared. His shoulders are set low, and I want to follow after him, but I don’t.
“I’ve missed you too much, Tessie. How’s Seattle treating you?” my father asks. It’s odd to look at him now, wearing one of Landon’s collared shirts and dress slacks, with no hair on his face. He looks like a completely different man. The bags under his eyes have gotten puffier, though, and I notice the way his hands are slightly shaking at his sides.
“It’s good, I’m still getting used to it,” I tell him.
“It’s silly.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and stares at the cement. “But I feel like I can breathe for the first time in months.”
“Is that a good thing or . . .” I start to ask, tilting her chin so she has no choice but to look at my face.
“Yes, it’s a good thing. I feel like for once everything is working out. I know it hasn’t been for long, but this is the most functional we have ever been. We’ve only had a handful of arguments, and we communicated our way through them. I’m proud of us.”
Her comment amuses me, because we still argue and banter constantly. It’s not only a handful of arguments, but she’s right: we’ve been talking our way through things. I love that we argue, and I think she does, too. We’re totally different people—we couldn’t be more different, really—and getting along with her all the time would be boring as hell. I couldn’t live without her constant need to correct me or her nagging about my mess-making. She’s annoying as hell, but I wouldn’t change a fucking thing about her. Except her need to be in Seattle.
“Functional is highly overrated, baby.” To prove my point, I lift her by the thighs, wrapping her legs around my waist, and kiss her against the wall right in the middle of one of the busiest streets in Seattle.
Chapter one hundred and twenty
TESSA
How much longer?” Hardin complains from the passenger seat.
“Less than five minutes; we just passed Conner’s.” I know he’s well aware of how short the distance is from here to the apartment; it’s just that he can’t keep himself from complaining. Hardin drove most of the way until I finally persuaded him to let me finish the trip. His eyes were nearly closing, and I knew he needed a break. My point was proven when he stretched his arm across the center console, holding me as best he could while I was driving, and fell asleep almost instantly.
“Landon is still there, right? You talked to him?” I ask. I’m beyond excited to see my best friend. It’s been far too long, and I miss his kind words of wisdom and never-faltering smile.
“Yes, for the tenth time,” Hardin replies, clearly annoyed. He’s been anxious the entire drive, even though he won’t admit it. He shrugs it off like he’s annoyed because of the distance, but I get the feeling there’s something else behind his frustration. I’m not entirely sure that I want to discover what it is.
When I pull into the parking lot of the apartment building that I used to call home, my stomach turns, and my nervousness begins to creep to the surface.
“It’ll be fine.” Hardin’s reassuring words surprise me as we enter the front door.
The small elevator feels so alien as it rises up the building. It feels as if so much more than only three weeks have passed. Hardin keeps his hand over mine until we reach the door, where he slides the key into the lock and pushes it open.
Landon jumps to his feet from the couch and strides across the room with the brightest smile I’ve seen him wear in the seven months since we became friends. His arms wrap around my back, and he hugs me, welcoming me, and making me aware of just how much I’ve missed him. Before I know it, I’m sobbing and heaving deep breaths into my friend’s chest.
I’m not sure why I’m crying so much. I’ve just missed Landon terribly, and his warm reaction to my return made me emotional.
“Can her old man get a turn?” I hear my father say from somewhere a little ways off.
Landon starts to back away, but Hardin says, “In a moment,” and nods toward Landon, assessing my mental state.
I launch myself at Landon again, and his familiar arms wrap around my back again. “I missed you so much,” I tell him.
His shoulders visibly relax, and he unwraps his arms from my body. When I go to hug my father, Landon stays nearby, his smile still bright and loving as ever. Looking at my father, I realize that he must have known that I’d be coming to visit. It looks like he’s wearing Landon’s clothes and they’re tight on his body. I notice that his face is clean-shaven.
“Look at you!” I exclaim with a smile. “No beard!”
He whoops a loud laugh and hugs me tighter. “Yeah, no more beard for me,” he says.
“How was the drive?” Landon asks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his navy-colored slacks.
“Shit,” Hardin says at the exact moment I say, “Good.”
Landon and my father both laugh, Hardin looks annoyed, and I’m just happy to be home . . . with my best friend and the closest relative that I’m in contact with. Which only reminds me that I have to call my mother, which I keep putting off.
“I’m going to put your bag in the bedroom,” Hardin announces, leaving the three of us to continue our welcoming. I watch as he disappears into the room we once shared. His shoulders are set low, and I want to follow after him, but I don’t.
“I’ve missed you too much, Tessie. How’s Seattle treating you?” my father asks. It’s odd to look at him now, wearing one of Landon’s collared shirts and dress slacks, with no hair on his face. He looks like a completely different man. The bags under his eyes have gotten puffier, though, and I notice the way his hands are slightly shaking at his sides.
“It’s good, I’m still getting used to it,” I tell him.
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