Page 37 of Built to Fall
But the way my mind keeps diverting back to Lina is making it harder and harder to feel grounded in this game the way I usually am.
Instead, it feels like my grip is slipping.
It wasn’t my intention to run back with her to our apartment building, but just like when she dropped that glass in her apartment and when she was puking in my backyard, I fixate on doing what I can to prevent bad things from happening to the people around me.
When the drill ends, we huddle again. Braxton doesn’t let it go.
“I’m serious, man,” he says, dropping beside me and grabbing a water bottle. “You’ve been on edge. Snapping at everyone. You’re being a dick.”
“I’malwaysa dick.”
“Yeah, but usually you at leasttryto make it charming.”
He throws me the ball, and I throw it off to the side. “Who do I have to charm?”
I ask him as if it’s a serious question, but we both know that there isn’t a right answer. The truth of the matter is, I only have to charm a girl enough to get her into my bed, and I seem to be doing fine on that front.
“You never know.” I hate the way Braxton tries to give me hope, but I also know it’s my fault. “The right girl could come around and change everything. It happened to me.”
He thinks I’m being stubborn—that it’s all a front I put on. But he also doesn’t know the full story.
Nobody does, and that’s fine by me. It pisses me off that he’d ever think this is something within my control. But that’s just him, constantly trying to see the best in things.
“Listen, Brax. I know you think you know more about all ofthisthan me. I mean, let’s face it, you and Meredith are practically written in the stars.” I wipe my face with the hem of my shirt, my body heating with every passing second. “You’re going to get your fairytale ending, but that needs to be enough for you. I don’t want that man. Ican’twant that.”
He and Meredith have been on and off for the past year, and no one even knows why the hell they broke up in the first place, but everyone knows they’ll end up together eventually.
He waits a beat. “Is this about her?”
“Who?”
“Don’t play dumb, Grant. Lina. You’ve been weird ever since you saw her in the elevator and then when she came to the party after that. It’s not like you to be this obsessed with a girl.”
I don’t say anything. Just stare across the field. I chew my gum harder, hoping it allows me to focus on something else.
“I like her,” he continues. “Not like that. She’s just… real. And she’s not impressed by you, which is refreshing.”
“She shouldn’t be impressed by me.”
Braxton frowns. “Man, you’ve never paid this much attention to a girl before. You need to stop cutting yourself short. If you want anything with her, you need to start acting like it.”
My mind flashes with both times I’ve taken her back to her dorm. The first time, when I found her drunk in my backyard, and again last week when I found her running way too early in the morning.
Of course, there was part of me that felt like I had to—I mean, what kind of douchebag would I be if I let her find her own way home in those kinds of vulnerable spots?
But, it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t just about doing the right thing. It’s out of my own necessity. One I can’t quite describe.
All I know is that if I hadn’t done it, it would have beenmenot being able to sleep. My brain would’ve looped all night long—every possible thing that could’ve gone wrong. Her drunk, walking alone. Someone seeing her like that. Someonehurtingher.
Still, she looked at me that morning like she was sizing me up, like she knew exactly what kind of mess I was, and wasn’t allthat impressed. And still, she ran next to me like it didn’t mean anything.
And maybe that’s what messes me up the most. Everyone else wants something—attention, a hookup, a story to tell. But Lina looks at me like she already figured me out, and the answer wasn’t all that interesting to her.
“She doesn’twantanything from me,” I mutter. “That’s the difference. I don’t have to ignore her becausesheignores me. I don’t have to be as much of an asshole to her because she’s a big enough one for the both of us.”
“Yeah, maybe. Or maybe she knows you’re more bark than bite.”
“I bite,” I say flatly.
