Page 2 of Built to Fall
Every time someone yells through the apartment, I automatically assume they’re not talking to me. My three friends and roommates lived here a year without me. My room had been empty. It’s easy for me to assume they’ve gotten used to me not being around.
“I understand that, but?—”
I quickly cut her off. “There are no buts. I’m back at Yale, and it’s for the better.”
Then, there’s a distant call of my name, dragging my attention away.
“Hold on,” I tell my aunt, putting her on mute and setting my phone on my desk.
Opening my bedroom door into the living room, I first notice the newly lit candle on the coffee table. Which is odd, considering Eden is standing on the couch, attempting to hold an absurdly large canvas above it. She’s not really succeeding, either.
The waves of red hair cascading down her back never fail to make images of the first time we met flash through my mind.
First day of freshman year. As we were both moving in. Both of us equally excited. Equallyhappy.She’s the force that pulled us together and led me to be a part of the unit we’ve built here in New Haven.
Her red hair hasn’t dulled, and neither has her bright white smile or the deep dimples that go along with it.
Nothing has ever stayed as effortlessly radiant as Eden Hayes.
And now, she’s holding a giant portrait of Audrey Hepburn above our couch, looking back at me and asking, “Do you think this looks good here? Obviously it would be up much higher than this, and not resting on the back of the couch, but I can’t lift it much higher than this by myself.”
I sidestep to the center of the room. “It’s a bit off-center.”
She moves it the slightest bit to the right, grunting as she does. “How about now?”
Tucking my lips, I examine the canvas further. “Did you ask Meredith and Kara?”
“Neither of them care,” she says happily. “Well… Meredith is skeptical, but when isn’t she?”
At the same time, Kara comes out of the kitchen, her toothbrush dangling from her mouth. I don’t bother questioning it.
Eden will, though. “It’s five p.m. Why are you brushing your teeth?”
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to,” Meredith says, peeking her head through the crack in her bedroom door with a towel wrapped around her hair. Even without her dirty blonde hair visible, her eyes alone are enough to grab anyone’s attention.
Heterochromia blessed that girl; her eyes are mostly blue, with blotches of brown. Like oceans dotted with continents.
The look on Kara’s face says enough, and she smirks as she reenters the kitchen, holding her long brown hair back to spit toothpaste in the sink.
I revert back to the topic at hand. “Do you like the painting?”
Meredith has already gone back into her bedroom. I don’t fault her for it. She’s the least talkative out of the four of us.
“It really doesn’t matter to me,” Kara says. “I’m barely here, anyway.”
It’s the middle of September. We’ve been living in the apartment for the past month, and Kara has been busier than Meredith, Eden, and me combined.
Not only is she attending Yale as a neuroscience major with the goal of becoming aneurosurgeon,but she’s also a model.
And not one of those small, local models who do some stock photo shoots and call it a day. Kara is an actualsupermodelwalking and modeling for the big names.
Prada. Chanel. Dior. Just like her mom did in the 90s.
People wouldn’t be shocked to hear it, either. With her tanned skin dotted with freckles, long legs, and striking blue eyes that—in the right lighting—have flecks of green in them, there are often two words agencies and the tabloids use to describe Kara Carr:brunette bombshell.
However, they would be shocked to hear about the heavy courseload she balances on top of it.
And with the amount of partying she does—and I’m talkingreal, grungy,New York Cityparties—I’m not sure how she does it either.
