Page 61 of Should the Sky Fall

“Avoiding triggers, for one. Stress is a big trigger too. I have pills for it, but I use them only when it gets really bad.” At Cal’s confused expression, he explains. “I don’t want to become resistant to them. There was a guy back in uni who’d swear by holistic treatments, like acupuncture. Never worked for me.”

That catches Cal’s attention. “What did you study?” Dawson hasn’t mentioned it before.

A shadow passes over Dawson’s face. “Art.”

“But you don’t do it now?”

“I was never very good.” Dawson’s voice is strangely hollow. “And anyway, I dropped out halfway through my second year.”

“Why?”

He takes a long breath, hitching his knees up and hugging them to his chest. “I just couldn’t handle it. Too much pressure, I guess.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Hoping he’s not overstepping, he adds, “It sounds like you miss it.”

Dawson sniffles, running a hand over his face. He hasn’t looked at Cal the whole time. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not in my stars.” Not giving Cal a chance to respond, he stands up, brushing sand from his pants. “We should go back. You need to rest.”

He’s been resting since they sat down, but he doesn’t say that, sensing Dawson’s reached the pinnacle of his patience for today.

“Okay.”

They walk to the car in silence and stay like that all the way home.

Chapter 13

“So…”Dawsonopensthedoor wide, stepping aside. “This is it.” He toes off his shoes, so Cal does the same before continuing deeper into the apartment.

His first thought is how bright everything is. Not just because of the huge windows and sliding doors taking up the full length of the wall, but because apart from black and white—and gray—no other color exists in the apartment.

“We live here?” Somehow, he didn’t think this would be his style. Or Dawson’s.

“I take it it doesn’t ring a bell?”

Dawson’s been watching him with an air of anxiety since they walked through the door, probably hoping it’d stir his memory.

Cal sweeps his gaze around the apartment again, paying attention to details. “A little. But that could be because there are some pictures in my phone that must’ve been taken here, or a place similar,” he adds begrudgingly. He has stupid pictures of buildings and apartments but none of him and Dawson.

Dawson releases a breath, his shoulders relaxing. “Right. That makes sense. And otherwise? What do you think?”

The place is fine. Nice, even. Cal just doesn’t like it for himself. Forthem. “It’s…big. Why do we need so much space?”

“I don’t know. It must be a rich people thing.” Dawson snickers. He beckons for Cal to follow him as he steps closer to the sliding doors.

“Oh. Okay,” Cal says, a little breathless, when Dawson slides the doors open and they step out on the balcony. “I understand now.” The view is otherworldly. They are high enough to get the full panorama of the beaches and of the horizon touching the ocean.

“That’s level thirty-six for you. Pretty nice, huh?”

“Beautiful. Everything looks so small.”

“That’s because it’s about four hundred feet down.”

After he’s got his fill, Cal looks around the rest of the apartment.

“Why is everything so white?” The walls, the carpet, the counters. Just the sofa is black.

Dawson gives him a curious look. He’s been giving him lots of those lately. “You prefer neutral colors.” When Cal scrunches his nose at the statement, he laughs. “Now you remind me of Ellis.”

“How come?”