Let Me: Let Me Fall Part 5

Even Frank Carr nodded his head in acknowledgement, smiling at me, and I hardly even knew him. Jeremy didn't so much as glance in my general direction.

Drew pulled me into his lap as he kissed my neck, murmuring, "You look lovely today."

"Why thank you," I replied, mimicking his formal manners. I needed to laugh, or to be seen and heard laughing in the very least, so that my unease wasn't so obvious.

Samantha called from the other end, "Carolyn, they think I'm lying. Did you or did you not spend your entire summer in a white lab coat cooped up indoors?"

I took a deep breath. A lot of things had changed about me since that awful summer. Before him, I felt confident and sure of myself-not boastful, just happy with the girl I was. Since then, I made a habit of second guessing myself, questioning my decisions, wondering constantly if I measured up. Samantha seized on my weakness and I noticed now, with increasing regularity, that she gave me compliments that were really anything but complimentary and she sometimes made jokes at my expense. You know, the ones people follow up with, "I'm just messing with you." In Samantha's case, her digs were followed by words like, "I'm kidding. You know I love you, right?"

Erica came to my defense quickly. "Back off. Carolyn will be at an Ivy League school next year and you'll be where, Samantha, b.u.mf.u.c.k Community College?"

Erica was kicking the hornet's nest and Samantha was one nasty b.i.t.c.h of a hornet when she wanted to be. Before Samantha could think of some way to embarra.s.s Erica in front of these boys, I piped up. "I didn't spend the entire summer at Yale. I was at the lake...a lot."

He still didn't look up. In fact he angled his body away from everyone else and began having a side conversation with Frank. I knew he'd heard me, though.

Coward.

Will started talking about how he used to love the lake when he was younger and I was telling him about Zach and Tommy doing cannonb.a.l.l.s non-stop off the dock when Samantha mock s.h.i.+vered and said, "I wouldn't swim in that dirt pit if you paid me a million dollars."

"Why not?" Will asked, annoyed.

"It's filthy and the people..." she trailed off, scrunching up her nose.

I saw Jeremy's back stiffen. I knew he had to be offended by her comment but Samantha was so lacking in empathy that his scowl didn't even register with her. I raised my voice just slightly. "Well, I loved it there, even though some of the people did turn out to be rude."

Gotcha! Jeremy's head whipped around and his eyes met mine for a split angry second before he righted himself, stood, took his tray and mumbled some parting words to the group.

Something about him brought out my inner b.a.l.l.sy chick. She'd been in hiding for nearly two years now-so long that I hardly even recognized her. I wanted to bait Jeremy. His blatant snubs had hurt me, and hurt that's left to fester eventually turns to anger. And yes, now I was p.i.s.sed off. Jeremy had to know I was speaking directly to him. And my message was: Go ahead, jacka.s.s, pretend you don't know me.

All of the boys left then, heading outside to toss a ball until the bell rang. That left just me, Samantha, Erica and Kerri.

"Are you into Jeremy?" Erica questioned Samantha.

Samantha narrowed her eyes at Erica, trying to decide if she should let Erica's insubordination from before go. She obviously decided to be a benevolent queen bee and make nice. "Well, that's what I want Will to think, duh." When no one commented, she added, "Let him see me with Jeremy. I want Will to know exactly what he's missing."

Kerri said, "You're wasting your time on Will. He is into Tori, one hundred percent. She lives next door to my freshman buddy, Lauren Paine, and she said Will pops by there all the time."

"What the h.e.l.l does he see in her?" Samantha asked, seething.

Erica laughed as she replied, "I don't know, maybe that she's smart, pretty and nice?" She emphasized that last word. Erica was feisty and she liked to give it right back to Samantha. I needed some of that att.i.tude; over the past year I'd become Samantha's pathetic underling.

Samantha rolled her eyes. "Please, she's like, under house arrest-she can never even go out. And I heard she has to work at the hardware store because her parents don't have a pot to p.i.s.s in. Sounds like lots of fun, you're right," Samantha retorted, sarcasm dripping off her every word.

"Her parent," I corrected. G.o.d, Samantha could be such a b.i.t.c.h. "I feel terrible for Tori," I went on. "I always see her with her little brothers. She's like their mother now. And for the record, they're not dest.i.tute. People in this town think that if you don't get a BMW for your seventeenth birthday then you're as good as on welfare."

"I didn't know her mother was dead," Samantha said, contrite. "Now I feel bad."

This was the Samantha of days past-my friend. It was nice to be in her presence every now and again.

Our mothers were good friends so Samantha and I were introduced while we were still in diapers. I did love Samantha like a sister at one time. We shared so many secrets, so many adventures, but something happened in seventh grade. It was like Samantha's interests s.h.i.+fted to include nothing but clothes, boys and gossip. She was bewildered and annoyed when I still wanted to bake, get messy with my science experiments or play with Thomas. If it didn't include a mani-pedi, a trip to the mall or making snarky comments at someone else's expense, then it wasn't worth her time.

My walk down memory lane was short-lived, as Samantha's mood s.h.i.+fted from sympathetic to carefree inside of a minute. "Anyway," she said brightly, "Will is interested, he just needs a little nudge." She giggled before adding, "And if I wind up getting nudged by Jeremy in the meantime, that wouldn't suck, right? He's hot."

"By nudged you mean f.u.c.ked?" Erica asked dryly.

Kerri rolled her eyes and then shushed Erica. "You are so crude, Erica. And you," she said, smiling, directing her attention back to Samantha, "are mean." She was teasing, sort of. No one came out and really told Samantha the cold hard truth except for Erica.

"I do like Jeremy, though, so I am not being mean." She waved us in closer before she whispered, giggling, "I kind of want to know if what Taylor said about him is true, you know?"

"I've checked him out in those football pants," Kerri said, matter-of-fact. "The rumors are true."

"He's a person, not a freakin' piece of meat," I said, weary from this conversation.

As the bell rang, we stood and gathered our things. Samantha winked at me and said, "I think I need to uncover the facts for myself."

Her comment turned my stomach. I was p.i.s.sed at Jeremy, even though I knew I really had no right to be, but as p.i.s.sed and hurt as I was, I would never wish Samantha on him.

She would hurt him.

He walked by me without so much as a nod of recognition for the next two weeks. I saw him at least three times a day, if not more. It started to sting less. But while Jeremy patently ignored me, Vanessa made it her mission to lock eyes with me whenever the opportunity arose. I even stopped going to the local ice cream parlor with Tommy because she worked there, opting for some c.r.a.ppy frozen yogurt place instead. Who in their right mind hired someone whose idea of a greeting was to practically growl at people? I mean, weren't ice cream parlors supposed to be happy places? I heard she also worked some evenings answering the phone at a tattoo parlor one town over. At least I didn't have to worry about running into her there.

What was their deal? She seemed like she had some kind of hold over Jeremy but he also seemed like he did what-or whom-he pleased. Anytime I saw Vanessa or saw the two of them together, it reminded me of that last day at the lake and it burned. I felt foolish and embarra.s.sed all over again. You have a great boyfriend, Carolyn, I reminded myself. You will be far away from Westerly next year, far away from b.i.t.c.hy losers like Vanessa and far away from boys like Jeremy.

I had just exited the college counselor's office, high off his prediction that my latest SAT scores would be good enough for Yale, when I heard my name called. When I turned, I saw a pet.i.te lady with gla.s.ses and a warm smile. "Hi," I said, my tone questioning because I couldn't place her.

"Oh my, it's so wonderful to see all of you kids again. You've all changed so much since Driscoll."

"Mrs. Connolly?"

"The one and only," she replied, smiling. "Do you have a minute?" she asked, already ushering me into her office.

"Sure."

"First, how have you been? I was talking to your guidance counselor and he said you're aiming for Yale?"

"Yes, I mean that's my reach school. I'm also looking into UPenn and Georgetown. Columbia also."

"Impressive. He told me you had an interesting experience at Yale this summer." She didn't wait for my reply before explaining that she had known my parents for years, as she was involved in Thomas's initial evaluation-the one that landed him in Briarwood. "I think it's wonderful that you've taken an interest in that field."

"I'd like to see where that takes me, Mrs. Connolly. I know how hard people like Thomas have it. I want to make a real difference for kids like him."

"So would you be interested in doing some tutoring work? Helping some of your peers here at Westerly?"

"I have done that in the past but I gave it up last year. My schedule was too heavy. I had all AP courses."

She nodded in understanding but pressed on. "It's a paid position." She paused, smiling. "It's nominal, just a few hours a week at minimum wage, so I don't want to get your hopes up. But it would also come with a glowing letter of recommendation...from a Yale alum, no less." In response to my raised eyebrows, she pointed to herself and said, "Cla.s.s of eight-four."

Acceptance at Yale was not a sure thing for me, so this? This was like dangling a carrot in front of a starved horse. "How many days a week?"

"Two days a week, ninety minute session each day. You would start this coming Tuesday. It's helping mainly with test preparation and homework."

"How many students?"

"Uh, just one."

"Who is it?"

She started looking through some files on her desk before she answered absently, "Well, all of the details haven't been worked out yet. There will be a few other tutors and then we'll see who matches up best, based on strengths and weaknesses. Are you in, Carolyn?"

"Yes, I'm in," I answered with a smile.

"She won't want to work with me, Mrs. Connolly," I said, irritated. Jeez, she would not let this go. I appreciated Mrs. Connolly's tenacity when it benefitted me but she could be a pain in the a.s.s otherwise.

I was so happy when I ran into her the first week of school-glad even for the budget cuts that split her position between the elementary school and the high school. Mrs. Connolly met with me and Coach in early September, devising a plan, taking me under her wing yet again. Yeah, I was happy then...but now? Not so much.

"We don't have many options here, Jeremy. You have-" I think she was about to say something like: bombed the last few tests you've taken, but she caught herself. "You are struggling, even with your educational accommodations. And frankly, insisting on having Paul Wiseman as your tutor, a math whiz, when your strength is math? That's just plain foolish, Jeremy. Carolyn Harris is akin to having a reading specialist working with you. She's been working with her brother for years, has solid research experience under her belt... C'mon Jeremy, she can tutor you better than I can!" Then she pulled out her trump card. "Do you want to finish the football season? I hate to say it but you are on the verge of being deemed academically ineligible. That's the cold hard fact."

I'd been in a sour mood for the past three weeks. I wasn't failing everything, just History and Physics. I didn't even know how I was failing Physics. I actually understood the material but when it came time to take the tests, I was just tanking. Two failures and I was off the team. They didn't do exceptions here and in truth, I didn't want any. I didn't want to be given any special treatment-the slow, learning disabled kid who couldn't pa.s.s.

I was desperate so I agreed.

I stopped by Connolly's office a few minutes early on my way to meet up with her in the library. I poked my head in and asked, "So Carolyn's ok with this?"

"Why wouldn't she be?" Mrs. Connolly snapped without even looking up from her computer screen, dismissing me.

I sat at the table, waiting. My f.u.c.king palms were sweating. I was rubbing them against my jeans practically every five seconds. There was one other kid seated in the study room across the hall. My eyes were glued to the corridor, waiting on her. I saw her come in then, chatting easily with Paul Wiseman, two brainiac peas in a pod.

Carolyn looked down at a paper to see which room she was a.s.signed to. In about a nanosecond she'd be wis.h.i.+ng her paper read anything but Room C. She paused with her hand on the doork.n.o.b, meeting my gaze through the gla.s.s. She looked as if she was drawing in a deep, steadying breath before entering the room. Then she strode in with her game face on. "Jeremy," she said, all business-like, without meeting my eyes.

"Um, are you ok with this? Tutoring me?"

She looked up at me defiantly. "Why wouldn't I be?" I almost wanted to laugh. She sounded exactly like Connolly-Connolly's evil sp.a.w.n.

I must have been smiling at the thought because she looked offended when she asked, "Is something funny?"

"No," I a.s.sured her, shaking my head. "Look, I appreciate you working with me, really."

"I'm getting paid, Jeremy." Her tone was sour. "Believe me it's not out of the goodness of my heart."

f.u.c.king ouch.

She was in professional mode. We split the next ninety minutes prepping for my physics test and then outlining the chapter for next week's history exam.

She didn't work like Paul did. She took my old tests, broke down how my science teacher asked questions and then predicted how this chapter's test questions might look. For history, she jotted down my text book's publisher and edition number before she left and told me she'd have a better way for me to read the text by Thursday.

I sat for a few minutes after she left, reeling. Mainly, I was in awe of the girl. I felt like I'd been under the tutelage of an expert for the past hour and a half. It was like she understood how my mind worked and could break things down for me so that I wasn't so d.a.m.ned confused. I always knew Carolyn was smart but I don't think I understood how truly gifted she was. That, in turn, made me hopeful. I believed she could help me dig myself out of this hole.

I also felt lonely.

Seeing her back in Drew's arms a few weeks ago started me off on a series of meaningless, shallow hook-ups. Today, spending time with someone I cared about-someone that I genuinely liked as a person-made every other interaction seem that much more superficial...s.h.i.+ttier, really.

I was now in the habit of swinging by Beth's once a week. She would have preferred three times a week, minimum, but I felt so dirty after leaving there that I couldn't bring myself to answer her texts most of the time. I did start to see her in a different light, though. She was lonely too, married to some old guy who was trying to relive his youth. A guy who really didn't know her, left her for weeks at a time in a town where she knew no one, and where the local society gals looked down on her as the uncultured gold digger that she was. But wrong was wrong. She was married so I was guilty for my part in this. She was wrong too, obviously. I mean, if my life was an episode of Law and Order, what she was doing could-save for a few months-technically be construed as rape. I did not see it that way, though. I looked way older than eighteen, so Beth probably didn't know she'd been luring in jail bait. I don't think she did, anyway.

Beth wasn't the only one who left me feeling empty. I started up again with some girl, Willow, who'd graduated last year and was now at a college less than an hour away. Some nights she'd just text and show up at my house. I was willing. I'd first hooked up with her last year after Taylor and I burned out. I liked Willow but she dumped me right around the time prom dates were being negotiated. I offered to take her and her response was to look at me with a mixture of pity and humor. Was I serious? She couldn't go with a junior. Dumb a.s.s me, right? When I thought about it, she and I never did anything but hook up in her pool house-we were never a couple in public. Fine. She used me last year and I was using her now.

Using and being used...it felt like c.r.a.p.

Thursday at 2:40 sharp I was waiting in Room C, anxious, afraid that she wouldn't show. She walked in at 2:45, right on schedule. Carolyn still looked wary and wore a bare, serious expression again. I couldn't tell what she was thinking.

She didn't waste any time. She set me up with a tablet that had both my Physics and Global History books uploaded on it. Carolyn explained that it was audio enabled but the text was also converted to a dyslexia-friendly font. "To me it just looks like the letters are bottom heavy and slightly squiggly, you know?" Her eyes lit up then and she smiled. "But to you and to Thomas, it makes the letters look more distinct. It's amazing really, Jeremy. You'll make way fewer errors. Isn't that crazy?" Her excitement was infectious. "It's downloaded onto this tablet so any book you read will be written in this font."

"Wow," I whispered, looking it over.

"This is really new. They didn't have this when you were at Briarwood, right?"

"No." I looked up at her then. "Thanks, Carolyn."

She shrugged her shoulders, brus.h.i.+ng me off. "It's nothing. Come on, let's get to work."

And so it went.

I thought I'd feel uncomfortable around her, maybe embarra.s.sed having her teaching me, but I never did. She might not like me, but Carolyn was always respectful and never condescending. She always made me feel at ease when I didn't get something. And with her, I didn't care about stumbling over a word here and there.

Two weeks later when I got my first science test back and scored a seventy-eight, I was ecstatic. I slapped it down on the table grinning when I walked into the room. She looked at it and then looked up at me, tilting her head, curious. "Are you satisfied with that?"

"h.e.l.l yeah, Carolyn. That's pa.s.sing. It's more than pa.s.sing."

She smiled softly and nodded her head, looking down at the paper again. After an excruciatingly long minute, Carolyn said, "But you're really smart. You can do much better than this."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and took a seat across from her. "Listen, if I pa.s.s then I can play. I'm not looking to get into Harvard, all right?"

She reached across and laid her hand on top of mine. "Hey, I'm sorry, Jeremy." When she said my name it did something to me. It shook me up. It made me dream of things. What would it feel like to hear her say my name all the time...if she was mine, if she was my girl?

When I looked up at Carolyn, she was smiling at me softly. "You're right, I was just a bit of a buzz kill. And Rome wasn't built in a day, you know?"

My hand felt cold as she slid hers off mine.

"How slow is he?" Drew asked as we sat together studying for AP Physics.

"He's actually really bright, Drew. Just like Thomas is, you know? Like a different type of intelligence where you're just held back by reading."

"Couldn't one argue that if you cannot read, then you're not intelligent?"

Drew wasn't being a jerk, he was asking innocently. "No. I mean, it's like the brain just isn't wired for reading. If you speak the information to people like Jeremy and then let them speak their answer, you see that the reasoning process is intact. School is just extremely frustrating for people like him. He is smart, though, without a doubt."

"How are you two getting along?"

"Fine, I guess." That wasn't a lie; things had gotten somewhat easier between us over the past few weeks. "We're not BFFs but he's polite and I think he appreciates the help."