Status: Completely written- now, to post it all
The Last Place
10
After an hour or so, Shea had completed the assignment. Honestly, I didn’t see what was so hard about it. I mean, it wasn’t like we hadn’t studied this last year, too. But maybe he was just bad at French, who knew? We both packed up our books in silence. I stood and wondered what to say. Things were kind of awkward.
“How about you and I take a walk?” he suggested.
“Sure,” I agreed easily, then instantly regretted it. What would we talk about? But then he was walking by my side and we were headed toward the grounds.
“Tell me about yourself,” Shea suggested as we stepped out of the building.
I laughed. “There’s really not much to tell.”
“That’s what I like about you. Your humility. You’re not like other girls.”
I blinked in confusion. What was he talking about? “Actually, I am. I’m very ordinary. The only thing that’s interesting that happened to me is… well, you know.” Fallon.
Shea stopped and faced me, taking my chin in his hand. “You can’t let that define you,” he told me. And then he absently added, “You have the loveliest eyes. The darkest blue I’ve ever seen.” I was uncomfortable. What could you say to something like that? I wanted badly to look away from his penetrating gaze, but I couldn’t.
I suddenly realized how close we were standing, and shivered. “Are you cold?” Shea asked.
“Kind of,” I told him, though that hadn’t been the reason for the shiver. And then, without a by-your-leave, Shea put his arm around me and drew me in close, so that I was pressed up against him. I fought another shiver.
“You’re so small,” Shea said. “So fragile.”
“I am not,” I argued.
“Fragile, but strong,” he amended. I felt my heart warm, even as a knee-jerk reaction had me thinking ‘that shouldn’t even make sense’. A decade of enmity doesn’t just vanish.
“What is this?” I wondered aloud. Oops. I’d meant to keep that thought in my head. But he just smiled softly, taking the question into stride.
“This is a walk.” Shea took a step to prove it. I bumped my hip against his to show that I was unamused. We took another few steps in silence before he said quietly, “I don’t know what this is. Why do we need to put a label on it?” I didn’t have an answer for that.
The next day I didn’t know how to act around him. I mean, were we friends now? Did I pretend last night never happened? And then I laughed at myself. I was being ridiculous. It wasn’t like it meant anything.
Not to him.
I walked into my first class of the day, my only one without Shea, in a strangely lousy mood. Carmen wasn’t in this class, either, so I had no one. And when I didn’t have anyone around me, distracting me, I was pathetically depressed.
Fallon.
It was because there was nothing to keep my mind off of him. When had I become one of those people who need others to be happy? Pathetic. I’d reached a new low.
And as if class wasn’t already bad enough with that realization fresh in my mind, the teacher announced that we were going to be studying the role of sports in today’s culture. Everyone had to pick a sport and do a presentation on it explaining in detail the origins, the popularity, and any effects it might have had in society.
There was only one sport I really knew about, snowboarding. Any other year, I wouldn’t have hesitated to choose it. But now… tears welled up just thinking about it. It was the sport that had killed my best friend.
But I was a coward, a pathetic coward. I needed to do this to prove to myself that I could. I needed to do it as a tribute to Fallon. So when the teacher asked us to start signing up for sports, I raised my hand first and told him I wanted to do my project on snowboarding. Would I regret this? Probably. But if I could get through it, I would have proven to myself that I’m more than my grief; I knew I was dangerously close to believing that I wasn’t.
“How about you and I take a walk?” he suggested.
“Sure,” I agreed easily, then instantly regretted it. What would we talk about? But then he was walking by my side and we were headed toward the grounds.
“Tell me about yourself,” Shea suggested as we stepped out of the building.
I laughed. “There’s really not much to tell.”
“That’s what I like about you. Your humility. You’re not like other girls.”
I blinked in confusion. What was he talking about? “Actually, I am. I’m very ordinary. The only thing that’s interesting that happened to me is… well, you know.” Fallon.
Shea stopped and faced me, taking my chin in his hand. “You can’t let that define you,” he told me. And then he absently added, “You have the loveliest eyes. The darkest blue I’ve ever seen.” I was uncomfortable. What could you say to something like that? I wanted badly to look away from his penetrating gaze, but I couldn’t.
I suddenly realized how close we were standing, and shivered. “Are you cold?” Shea asked.
“Kind of,” I told him, though that hadn’t been the reason for the shiver. And then, without a by-your-leave, Shea put his arm around me and drew me in close, so that I was pressed up against him. I fought another shiver.
“You’re so small,” Shea said. “So fragile.”
“I am not,” I argued.
“Fragile, but strong,” he amended. I felt my heart warm, even as a knee-jerk reaction had me thinking ‘that shouldn’t even make sense’. A decade of enmity doesn’t just vanish.
“What is this?” I wondered aloud. Oops. I’d meant to keep that thought in my head. But he just smiled softly, taking the question into stride.
“This is a walk.” Shea took a step to prove it. I bumped my hip against his to show that I was unamused. We took another few steps in silence before he said quietly, “I don’t know what this is. Why do we need to put a label on it?” I didn’t have an answer for that.
The next day I didn’t know how to act around him. I mean, were we friends now? Did I pretend last night never happened? And then I laughed at myself. I was being ridiculous. It wasn’t like it meant anything.
Not to him.
I walked into my first class of the day, my only one without Shea, in a strangely lousy mood. Carmen wasn’t in this class, either, so I had no one. And when I didn’t have anyone around me, distracting me, I was pathetically depressed.
Fallon.
It was because there was nothing to keep my mind off of him. When had I become one of those people who need others to be happy? Pathetic. I’d reached a new low.
And as if class wasn’t already bad enough with that realization fresh in my mind, the teacher announced that we were going to be studying the role of sports in today’s culture. Everyone had to pick a sport and do a presentation on it explaining in detail the origins, the popularity, and any effects it might have had in society.
There was only one sport I really knew about, snowboarding. Any other year, I wouldn’t have hesitated to choose it. But now… tears welled up just thinking about it. It was the sport that had killed my best friend.
But I was a coward, a pathetic coward. I needed to do this to prove to myself that I could. I needed to do it as a tribute to Fallon. So when the teacher asked us to start signing up for sports, I raised my hand first and told him I wanted to do my project on snowboarding. Would I regret this? Probably. But if I could get through it, I would have proven to myself that I’m more than my grief; I knew I was dangerously close to believing that I wasn’t.