Page 44 of The Upside of Falling
Eyes fluttering open, heady with yearning, she gazes at me, a sinister smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Don’t look at me like that,” I say, putting more distance between us.
“Like what?” she asks, sitting up until she’s straddling my lap, her legs draped on either side, her center pressed against mine, her chest just below my eyes.
I kick off my shoes and twist on the couch so I’m the one leaning against the armrest, my legs stretched out, my feet hanging off the end of the cushion. I place both my hands on her legs, keeping her in place, looking up at her beauty, completely in awe that I was able to make this connection with the girl I knew would flip my world upside down.
“Don’t look at me like you’re about to devour me.”
She plays with the fabric of my shirt, dancing her fingers across my chest. “You know, you were a really tough shell to crack.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“What was it about the letters that made you give in?”
I don’t skip a beat when I answer, “The heart and honesty behind them. I was already physically attracted to you and interested, but it was your vulnerability that cracked me.”
“It was all true,” she whispers.
I gently rub my palms against her legs. “I know. Tell me about him, about your brother.”
Looking wistfully off to the side, she smiles the smallest of smiles, true love for her brother clear in her expression. “He’s amazing, Colby. Such a gentle soul, sweet and kind. He loves baseball, a huge Rockies fan. He watches every game with Dad in the basement. They have their little man cave down there, no girls allowed.” I smile at that. “He loves Credence Clearwater Revival and will listen to their greatest hits album on repeat for hours on end.”
“CCR is a good band. Your brother has good taste.”
“The best, but he has his moments, and those tough moments are hard to control.”
“You said he has autism.”
She nods. “He does. Life hasn’t been easy, that’s for sure, especially his meltdowns when I was growing up. It stopped everything we were doing, and it was and still is our duty to ease his anxiety, to help him. At first, it was hard for me to understand and comprehend how I needed to set aside my needs and help my brother, but as I got older, I became more compassionate.” Shifting on top of me, she leans forward and lies down, our bodies flush, her head against my chest. Instinctively I wrap my arms around her and gently rub her back. Even though we’re talking about something hard, I’ve never felt more comfortable around a girl. She . . . fits.
“I remember this one time, we went to Disney World. It was a big deal, because my parents very rarely went on vacation. But Bryan was older and they thought it would be okay.” She pauses. “It wasn’t. We were in line for Space Mountain—the one ride on the top of my must-do list—and we were about to get on the ride when Bryan had a complete sensory overload meltdown. The sounds, the lights, the smells, it was too much for him. He dropped down to the floor and started hitting himself in the face, screaming and scaring everyone around him. They shut down the ride because it took over an hour to get Bryan to calm down, to get up from the floor, and walk back to our hotel.”
“I can’t imagine how that must have been,” I say, kissing the top of her head.
“I was such an ass.” She pauses. “Looking back at it now, I’m ashamed of how I reacted. I was mad at him, I wasn’t helpful, and I cried the entire way back to the hotel begging my parents to stay at the park, but their main focus had been calming Bryan. You should have seen the staring and gossiping families we had to walk past to get back to our hotel. ‘There he is, the boy who freaked out on Space Mountain.’ They weren’t subtle. It was like we were a sideshow people couldn’t get enough of.”
Jesus, my heart aches for her. “People can be dicks when they experience something that’s not part of their norm.”
“I know that now, but at the time, I was so bitter I never got to ride Space Mountain that I couldn’t put everything into perspective. Like I said, I’m ashamed every time I think back to how I acted.”
“You’re human, Rory. You’re allowed to be angry and upset about things. I get wanting to have compassion for your brother, but you’re still allowed to have your own feelings separate from his. Don’t berate yourself for being disappointed.”
“That’s what my mom told me.” She nuzzles herself deeper into my embrace. “Bryan is the reason I’ve had such a hard time having a boyfriend.”
“Why’s that?” I draw small circles on her back with my thumb.
“Because they didn’t understand that my brother comes first. My mom has called me when I’ve been on dates, telling me Bryan needed me. I’ve dropped everything to go see him, to calm him down. After a few dates like that, after being irritated about me leaving, they left me.”
I clench my teeth, my anger almost getting the best of me. Who in their right mind would leave Rory because she’s helping out her brother? To me, that demonstrates their poor quality as humans. Empathy is a sexy quality to have, and to discard such a good quality as a nuisance is disgusting.
“It’s a good thing they left, Rory, because I could never see you with someone who lacks the ability to empathize with your situation. Frankly, it’s despicable that those men weren’t able to set themselves aside for a second and see the whole picture.”
Instead of saying anything, she stays wrapped in my arms, her breathing synching with mine, her fingers playing with the collar of my shirt.
I relax into her touch, into the cushions of her couch, into the feel of her body draped over mine. I’ve had intimate moments with women before, but never anything like this, like our souls are connecting on a higher level.
A part of me thinks that maybe it’s because I’ve matured since my last causal relationship, but another part of me believes we simply share a powerful connection.
“Can I ask you a question?”
