You and Everything After (Falling #2)(2)

Before I leave, I push myself back to the window to watch my life that should have been happen outside, but only for few more seconds. With the heaviest bag on my lap, and the roller behind me, I make my way to the hallway and ask another student to help me wheel the roller to the taxi out front. Once the door is shut and we’re on our way to the airport, I forget it all—the dream, the scene out my window, the last four years at Florida State; it’s all meaningless. And so is everything that’s to come. I’m just going through the motions. You know…being strong.

Whatever.





Chapter 1





Ty


“Come on, princess. Get your ass up! It’s time for workouts. Early bird gets the worm, and all that shit,” I practically sing to my brother, whose head is buried under two pillows. He’s still nursing himself a little after our late night. Nate’s not used to my schedule. I’ve never needed much sleep, a side effect of constantly waking up in pain—however real, or not, it may be. I pretty much filled my undergrad years with party after party, and I still finished with a 3.8 grade point average.

“Gahhhhhhhhh,” Nate bellows, his voice muffled by his mattress as he throws the top pillow at me, hitting me in the chest. “What are you, part robot? How are you not tired?”

“I’m just that awesome. Awesome people don’t need to sleep as much as you mere mortals,” I say, tugging the blanket from his body to really piss him off.

“All right! I’m up. I’m up,” he says, pushing his fists into his eyes and rubbing like he did when he was a kid. He’s still that kid to me—probably always will be. “The team doesn’t even start workouts until nine anyway, *!”

He’s complaining, but he’s still getting dressed. I push Nate. I push him because he takes it, which means he secretly likes being pushed. And I push him because the kid is seriously talented. I was good…before I got hurt. I maybe could have played college ball, probably for some junior college back home. But Nate, he could go all the way, as in big leagues, and stay there—for years.

“Hey, that’s awesome *, thank you very much. Now get your shoes on so we can get our miles in,” I say, pushing into the hallway to wait for him.

We go five miles every morning—Nate takes the treadmill at the gym, and I work the hand cycle. My body, at least what’s left of it, is something I can control; so weightlifting and fitness have kind of become an obsession. School has always been easy, which is probably why the partying never seems to get in my way. But throwing myself in the pool, and making my arms pound the water for a mile or two is a challenge—I need those challenges to remind me that I’m still alive.

“You’re like this happy little morning elf, and I hate you,” Nate says, throwing his workout towel at me before turning to lock up our room.

“Dude, it’s not like I’m the one putting the hard stuff in your hands. You know, you can get drunk on just beer, bro. You don’t have to do shots and shit like that. That’s why you’re always so tired in the morning,” I tell him.

Nate was a goody two-shoes in high school, always hanging with the same group of guys and his girlfriend. The switch flipped when he found out she cheated on him. Thank God I was home when that happened. He left the party, came home to me, and we shared our first bottle of Jack. Damn, maybe it is my fault—I should’ve started him out on something weaker.

“About that, man…I think I’m out,” he says, pausing right before the doorway exiting our dorm.

“Out of what?” He’s lost me on this one.

“Out…of this partying and trolling-for-random-chicks thing we’re doing every night. It’s…it’s just not me,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh, but Nate’s not in the mood. “Fuck off, I knew you’d make fun of me.”

“Sorry, sorry dude. That was just—”I have to pause again, trying to keep a straight face. Tucking my big-ass grin into the side of my arm to hide it, I force myself to take a deep breath—and to take my brother seriously. “I’m sorry. I guess I just don’t see the downside.”

“You wouldn’t,” Nate says, walking ahead. My smile’s gone at that—he’s right, I wouldn’t. And that stings a little.

Workouts go the same, and when Nate heads off to join the team, I put in some extra time. There’s a posting for personal trainers that I’ve been looking at, I just haven’t had the balls to ask about it yet. But today’s the day. There’s a cute girl working the main counter, so I hit her up first.

“Hey, Nike!” I call her Nike because that’s what her shirt says. She looks down, smirks, and then looks back into my eyes. My grin makes her smile and bite her lip, and I know I’ve got her. “Sorry, didn’t know your name.”

“I’m Sage,” she says, leaning over the counter just enough to give me a nice view of the frilly white-lace trim on her bra.

“Sage, nice name,” I smile, falling right into my routine. “I was checking out the posting for the personal trainer. That filled yet?”

“Nope,” she says, her smile bigger now. “You interested?”

“Yep,” I say, playing off of her flippant answer. She’s oblivious though.