Page 20 of Free Fall #1

Sejin

L eenie and the kids have crashed my place of business, and normally I’m fine with that, but I’ve been stressed out the last two days for a plethora of reasons.

First, my dad never texted back, which kind of hurts a little more as each day goes by. Why doesn’t he at least reply with “I miss you too?” Or something innocuous like “Things are good here, son. Hope you’re fine.”

I miss when my mom was so excited for my every adventure.

“Send pictures!” she’d demand, and then respond enthusiastically to each one when I did.

“Those clouds are beautiful!” she replied once to a photo of me in front of a dingy hotel sign, sent as proof both that I was alive and of where I was staying for the night. I hadn’t even noticed the clouds.

Dad couldn’t seem more disinterested in my life if he tried. I know he’s grieving, we both are, and I know he prefers to do it alone—we’re alike like that—but I hate feeling like I’ve lost both my dad and my mom since her death. It sucks. A lot.

Second, Leenie and Martin had a fight last night, and I worry it was about me.

I could hear them in their bedroom trying to keep it down, but words seeped out from beneath the closed door.

Things like months , how much longer , why , and “ it’s not that I don’t love him too, but …

” So, yeah, it must be about me, and I really do need to get the fuck off of my cousin’s sofa and figure out my life.

But where can I go? Rents are insane around here.

I don’t make a lot of money. Dad doesn’t have any to give since the chemical companies shut their doors and left West Virginia in the lurch.

It’s not like I can ask him for a loan when he doesn’t even respond when I ask for a phone call.

But I hate that my presence is probably causing them stress.

Third, Pete is on my ass at the coffee shop because I asked him to rearrange the schedule around my work at the preschool again, and you’d have thought I’d asked him to cut his dick off and let me eat it for breakfast, because he was seriously uncool about the whole thing.

And then there’s Dan.

He texted about Friday, and I haven’t replied.

Mainly because I don’t know what to say.

If I say yes, then we’re going to fuck, and it’s going to be amazing , and I’ll want to do it again and again.

But some day down the road, whether we’re still fucking or not, someone’s gonna say “Did you hear about that climber that died?” and it’s going to be Dan.

And I’m going to have to live with the knowledge that someone I’ve had sex with, that I’ve had inside my body and come for and with, someone I think I might care about way more than I should after just two hookups, died doing something I don’t even understand.

I just don’t know how to feel about that.

But right now, I do know how I feel about Leenie, but more specifically Jeremiah and Sarah Kate crashing out in the comfy corner of the coffee shop, settling in, screaming for me constantly, asking for multiple free refills, and Leenie asking me to watch Jeremiah while she changes Sarah Kate’s diaper.

All of them are basically treating Papa Bear like their home-away-from-home when I’m already in deep crap with Pete.

Normally the guy’s indulgent of his employees’ families, but today he’s short-tempered and has it out for me.

If Leenie wants me off her sofa anytime soon, she really needs to pack up and go.

But I’m not sure how to explain that without Pete overhearing, and…

The door chime rings. I look up expecting a new influx of folks given that it’s almost lunchtime, so I’m surprised to see just one customer. My stomach drops, and I go a little light-headed as our eyes meet.

Dan.

He looks good too. Wearing worn jeans that hang on his narrow hips, a t-shirt stretched tight across his chest muscles and snug-capped sleeves that show off how wiry his arms are.

He’s all… unf. So lean and sexy, with his big, wide eyes staring right at me full of questions and intensity.

I’m instantly aware of my skin in an acute way that’s hard to explain.

Like I’m tingling with effervescent bubbles of anxiety and attraction popping all over the surface of me at once. It’s weirdly hard to breathe.

I swallow as Dan approaches the counter.

“Small hot apple cider,” he says, not taking his eyes off me as he hands over his debit card. “And a few minutes of your time.”

“Look,” I say, as I begin to make the drink. It’s pretty easy—some apple cider, some steam, whipped cream, and voila. “I’m at work, and I can’t really talk.”

Dan takes the cup from my extended hand. “When’s your break?”

“He doesn’t get one today. He was late,” Pete says, bustling up next to me, his grizzled voice rising with irritation.

“Alright. I’ll wait until your shift is over,” Dan says, going to sit at a table by the window and bringing out a worn journal and a pencil. He begins marking inside of it.

“That guy bugging you?” Pete asks warily. “Because I can handle him if you want.”

“No, he’s fine. I kind of owe him a conversation, I guess.” I don’t owe him anything really, but I don’t feel right not giving him an explanation about why I’m going to cancel on him for Friday night.

Pete groans. “Drama, kid. Guys like him? They’re drama.”

I don’t know if he means because Dan’s a climber—evident by his build and the remnants of chalk on his fingers—or if he means because Dan has shown up at my workplace to talk and is going to just…wait. Isn’t that a little stalkerish? Should I be worried?

I don’t know. I feel like I should talk with him, though. He’s not being a disturbance at least. Unlike the other people who came here to see me.

At just that moment, Jeremiah starts to sing the alphabet song at the top of his lungs, and Sarah Kate starts wailing like a banshee, and Leenie calls out, “Sejin, can we get more apple slices?”

Pete grumbles, “Does she think I opened this place to feed her kids?” But he slaps an apple onto the cutting board and next thing I know he’s handing me a plate with apple slices on it. Dan hasn’t budged, and doesn’t look like he’s going to, and I don’t actually know what I’m supposed to say or do.

“Uh, I know I was late,” I say, “but, um…” I trail off. “Could I please just take a minute to talk to him?”

Pete looks up from where he’s cutting almond butter and strawberry sandwiches into halves to put out for the to-go sales cooler and glances at Dan by the window. “For fuck’s sake, kid, get your life together and get it out of this coffee shop.”

He looks at his wristwatch. “I’ll give you ten minutes…” He glances at Dan again, and then over at Leenie. “No, twenty-five ought to do it, alright? But never say I’m hard on you. After today…” He rolls his eyes. “I’m a goddamn pushover, is what I am.”

I’m never going to agree he’s a pushover, but this is definitely kinder than I expected.

I take the apple slices over to Leenie and manage not to let her pull me into a conversation.

Instead, I say, “Listen, Leenie, I heard there’s going to be a free acrobatics show from that traveling troupe over in El Cap’s meadow this afternoon.

If y’all leave now, you can make it in time. ”

Her eyes light up, and I know I made the right call. She can get the kids out in the fresh air, let Jeremiah run around, and entertain them with a spectacle. I should have thought to mention it sooner, but I’d been too distracted by my runaway brain.

She starts to pack up immediately.

Jeremiah grabs my leg. “Sejinie, come with us!”

“I can’t, buddy,” I say, dropping to a crouch next to him. He shifts his hold to my neck. “I have to work.” I kiss his sweet cheek and rub our noses together. “But I’ll see you at home tonight, okay? And we’ll have a game of Candyland while Mommy has a bubble bath.”

“Yeah?” Leenie’s eyes meet mine.

“Yeah.”

“I’m holding you to that, Sejin,” she says. “I’d kill for an hour alone in the bath.”

“I know.”

I escort them out the door of the place like it’s my home or something, and after helping get Sarah Kate into her car seat and waving them off, I head back inside to face Dan.

My palms are itchy, and my tongue is dry.

I decide to put it off by grabbing a glass of water for myself first, downing it quickly, and then heading into the back to check my hair and face.

Pete sticks his head in, sees me brushing my hair before putting it up again, and snorts.

“As bad as Celli,” he mutters, and then leaves me to it.

When I finally get the courage to go break it to Dan that I’m not going to suck his dick this weekend, or fuck his ass, or let him fuck me— woe!

woe indeed! —I look a lot calmer on the outside than I feel on the inside.

My stomach is knotting, my heart is beating harder than necessary, and my dick is traitorously buzzing with a rush of blood like I might get a half-chub just sitting down across from Dan.

I take a deep breath and watch as he closes his journal and puts it away in his small backpack. “Hi,” I say. “I’m sorry I left you hanging about our plans for Friday.”

“It’s alright. Most guys eventually leave me hanging.”

I swallow. “I guess you want to know why?”

“Actually, Doc, I was mainly just hoping I was wrong, or if I wasn’t wrong, that I could find a way to change your mind.”

“Well, maybe I want to tell you why.”

“I didn’t violate your consent or boundaries, did I?” he asks, sitting up a little straighter, concern lacing into his deep voice.

“No, of course not.”

“Good,” he says, relief washing over his features. “I’m not always great at reading people, and I try to always keep things really clear even when it’s…”

He licks his lips. They glisten and capture my attention. I remember how nice his mouth is when applied to certain sensitive places on my body, and I shift in my seat.

“Even when it’s intense.”

“No, you never crossed any lines with me. Not sexually anyway.”