Behind the Falls Read online

  “Dinner in five minutes,” is all he says then I hear his footsteps go down the hallway. I pull my chair over to the vent near the door and tiptoe to get my ear as close as possible. I can just about make out what they’re saying.

  “Beth, we can’t assume every time he’s moody or short tempered that he’s having an episode. He’s a teenager. It comes with the territory.”

  “I want to give him some space and independence but that terrifies me,” Mom says. I can hear the worry in her voice. “What if it gets bad again and we miss it because we mistake panic and depression as typical teenage moodiness? We didn’t know until it was too late before, Ollie. I can’t bear it. I’d rather have him angry at us than miss something because I was giving him space. I’d rather have him hate me for a while than lose him.”

  “We’re not going to lose him. He’s older now. He’s doing better than ever. He knows better now. He has friends now. We would know, Beth,” Dad continues to murmur words of comfort that I can’t quite make out and I climb off the chair. For about the billionth time in my life I’m so thankful that they’re my parents and so sorry they have me for a son.

  Dinner is a solemn affair. Dad must have cooked because it’s garlic bread and spaghetti with meatballs and a salad that Mom probably made. Dad tries to make small talk but Mom is tense and I just grunt my answers. He claims he needs a break from his book.

  “How about it, Noah? Let’s you and I go to Hershey and grab some dinner and a hockey game this weekend?” he says too brightly so that I can tell his good mood is forced. I shrug.

  “Maybe Saturday if there’s a game I guess,” I say not really committing to the idea. “Uh, I asked Sherrie to the movies on Friday. Is that okay?” I’m not sure what the protocol is on dating. It’s nothing I ever did until we moved here and I’ve only had the one dance so far. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to ask for permission first or not.

  “Of course that’s okay, Noah,” Mom enthuses. “Saturday would be great for you guys to go do something together. I have plans with Lydia so you can really just have a guys’ night without Mom tagging along,” she forces a laugh. The entire conversation is stilted and fake and everyone knows it. I pick at my food in relative silence for the rest of the meal and my parents don’t even pretend to disguise the looks they’re giving each other.

  I feel a little better about going to school on Tuesday than I did on Monday. I don’t linger at my locker and I wait until the last minute to slip into my seat in calculus. Of course I make it out of calculus well ahead of Max again. I’ve almost forgotten my worries until chemistry.

  Today is a lab so we have to work together. Either Max is finally done trying to be friends or this grade really does mean something to him because he’s just coldly professional. We only speak when we need to. When class is over and the bell rings to let us free for lunch,

  Max doesn’t even linger. He heads straight for the door without a backwards glance. I tell myself that’s great. It’s exactly what I wanted. So why do I feel so…sad and ignored?

  Of course I sit with Sherrie at lunch again and even though I feel better than yesterday I still just pick at my food. Worry, even if it’s not profound enough to really be considered anxiety always crushes my appetite. When there are only about twenty minutes left in the lunch period, Darcy comes over to our table.

  “Noah? Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asks. I look around and see that Max and Tabitha are not in the cafeteria anymore. They must be in the library.

  “Sure,” I say as I get up to return my tray. “I’ll see you in computer science,” I smile at Sherrie and I follow Darcy into the hallway. I’m a little nervous. Did Max put her up to this?

  “Um, what did you want to talk about?” I don’t make eye contact as I stand against the wall outside of the café.

  “I just wanted to say that I’m your friend. We’re all still your friends. I mean, I don’t know what’s going on with you and Maxwell and Tabitha but just because you guys are not talking doesn’t mean you have to stay away from the rest of us, okay?”

  “What? Did Max say something?” This is why it’s easier to just not have friends. Everyone knows everyone else’s business.

  “No, but I mean come on. We can all see you guys aren’t talking. Elliot said he thought something went down at Max’s house the other weekend and you left upset but that’s really all anyone knows. I just want you to know that I’m still your friend. Elliot is still your friend. Katie is still your friend. Hell, Terry is still your friend even though Tabitha would probably disown him. We’re cool okay?”

  “Okay. Uh, I should get my stuff for my next class,” I say and I head to my locker. It’s nice to know that no one knows anything and that even though Max has been their friend longer no one is taking sides but it’s not like I can ever hang out with any of them again. The odds of Max being around are just too great.

  The rest of the day is uneventful. Max doesn’t make any attempts at talking in art class and I figure the worst has passed. I wonder how long it will be before I’m not afraid to run into him anymore. How long will it be before the ache I feel when I think about him passes?

  The week continues rather smoothly and I think I’m finally over the worst of it but then Thursday night I wake up with a panic attack. I think the ones that pull me out of sleep are the worst because it’s just instant fear and pain with no warning. I stumble into my bathroom and close and lock the door. I have no reason to believe that my parents will wake up and check on me but if they do I don’t want them to see me like this.

  I’m ready to curl up with my back against the tub when I realize there’s a space between the sink cabinet and the wall that might just be big enough to accommodate me. It’s so narrow I wonder why it’s there. Maybe it was designed for a hamper or a trash can. I squeeze into the space and pull my knees to my chest and let my head fall against the sink cabinet. It’s tight and it’s comforting. It’s actually better than my closet used to be. As I’m hugging my knees and hyperventilating, heart racing a mile a minute I try to tell myself to relax. I don’t know why. This has never helped in the past.

  You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay, I tell myself over and over and over. After a half hour has passed I think I can finally go back to bed. I slip out of my little, safe haven and practically crawl back to my bed. I don’t even bother to turn off the bathroom light. I know I’m not going to get any real sleep for the rest of the night.

  The next morning at breakfast it’s actually Dad that notices my lack of sleep. Maybe they both do and Dad just decides to take the pressure off of Mom by playing bad cop this morning.

  “Didn’t you sleep last night?” he asks and it sounds more like an accusation. Or maybe it’s just my guilty conscience making it seem that way.

  “I slept,” I say which is true. I mean, I fell asleep and slept until I wasn’t asleep anymore.

  “You’re too young to have such dark circles under your eyes,” he continues. I just shrug and eat my breakfast.

  At school Sherrie meets me at my locker. She’s excited about tonight. I try to be but I’m so tired I can’t muster much enthusiasm. Hopefully I can take a nap after school or something. We make our plans for the evening. Sherrie will drive to my house and then if it’s warm enough we’ll walk to the theater from there. It’s only a few blocks from my house to the theater. I like that idea. I hate the thought of her picking me up for a date. I wonder if I’ll ever be ready to drive.

  After the movie the plan is to go to the diner for something to eat. The diner is on the opposite side of the street from the theater and therefore closer than the pizza shops, deli and Asian cuisine restaurant. When you’re walking proximity is key.

  Sherrie takes my hand and we walk to homeroom. After homeroom we walk to first period together. She stops with me outside of calculus. It’s the first time all week that I haven’t hung back and waited for the last minute to enter the classroom. We linger there in the hallway for a few minute
s just holding hands and it’s nice. I almost don’t even notice Max as he walks by.

  In chemistry Mr. Greene is called out of the room for a few minutes. It’s a lecture day not a lab day so of course everyone starts talking the minute the door closes. He’s been doing a good job of leaving me alone so I’m actually surprised when Max talks to me.

  “So, Sherrie Carlisle…I told you she liked you,” he says.

  “Well I guess you were right about one thing anyway,” I say curtly.

  “Noah, do you think…” I don’t let him finish.

  “Just save it. We’re not friends. Just don’t even bother,” I tell him and I open my book and start reading the next chapter that’s most likely going to be assigned as homework. Max sighs audibly and makes a pillow of his arms on the desk and just rests his head for the duration of Mr. Greene’s absence.

  At the end of the day Sherrie and I walk together from our lockers to the main exit and I hesitantly take her hand. She smiles at me and we continue walking together. Before she goes to her bus I give he a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “I’ll see you at seven,” she says as she skips away. Mom pulls up to the curb and as I get in the car I realize I’ve survived my worst week of school. I think just maybe everything is going to be okay after all.

  Sherrie arrives promptly at seven. She comes in to meet my parents and we decide that it’s warm enough to walk to the theater like we originally planned. We hold hands as we walk and sort of swing them between us absently as we talk.

  Sherrie does most of the talking. She doesn’t force me to talk more than I’m comfortable with but she doesn’t seem completely comfortable with silence so she fills it. It’s different than it is with Max. With Max silence was always comfortable and yet he could draw me out and make me talk more than anyone has in my life. He always wanted to know more about me and asked questions in a way that I was not uncomfortable and I just felt I could talk with him. I didn’t even really think about it. It was always just natural. And why in the Hell am I even comparing Sherrie to Max?

  When we get to the theater I buy the tickets but Sherrie insists on buying the snacks. Honestly I think she got the raw end of that deal. The tickets are cheaper here than in most theaters because these are not first run movies. We decide to share a large tub of popcorn then we each get random candies. Sherrie opts for a large pop while I get water.

  “Do you care if I put Milk Duds in the popcorn?” I ask before we decide to share.

  “Milk Duds in the popcorn?” she repeats.

  “It’s good, trust me,” I encourage. She kisses me on the cheek.

  “I do trust you,” she smiles and her eagerness just makes me feel good.

  The movie is just okay. It’s just one of many dystopian young adult novels turned film where the book was better. I almost never like movies based on books but then it wasn’t about the movie anyway. It was just something to do, an excuse to ask her out tonight.

  After the movie we go to the diner for a late dinner. I’ve learned more about Sherrie this evening than I have after a couple of months of school. It’s the first time other than the trip to Lancaster to shop that we’ve spent any real one on one time together. I’m discovering that she’s just one of those very few naturally nice people in the world. She’s not phony or anything she’s just sincerely nice. She wants to make other people happy. She’s genuine. I think that before this evening is over I really want to kiss her. The thought excites and terrifies me.

  She wants to be a veterinarian and she says she’ll probably specialize in larger animals. It makes sense living in farm country I guess, unless she means larger animals like elephants and things like that. I don’t ask for clarification. She asks what I want to do and as usual, I have no real answer.

  “I’ll probably have to start school with an undeclared major,” I confess. “I really just don’t know.”

  “Well, what do you like? What are your favorite hobbies?” she asks. I shrug. I don’t have hobbies. Trying not to be too anxious isn’t a hobby but it’s what takes up a lot of my time.

  “I guess I like to draw and I’m into movies but I don’t want to make them. I love to read but I don’t want to write. I really like to run but you can’t really make a career out of that unless you’re training for the Olympics or something. I don’t know. I think sixteen is too young to know what I want to be. I’m just boring, really.”

  “You’re pretty good with computers,” she suggests. We’re in the same computer science class so she knows what she’s talking about.

  “Being good at something and wanting to make a career of it are two different things though.” We talk more about school and our interests, mostly hers and things are going well until Max and Tabitha walk in.

  I don’t know why it unsettles me so much to see him. He really has been good about leaving me alone. I’ve seen him every day at school but something about seeing him here and now bothers me. Did I think I’d never run into him outside of the safety of school? He lives a few blocks away from me. It’s a small town with nothing to do. Of course I’m going to run into him.

  Occasionally I feel eyes on me and when I look his way it’s either him that’s just turning away or Tabitha. When it’s Tabitha watching it’s pretty obvious since she’s sitting with her back to us and she has to turn around in her seat to look and she’ll hold my gaze with a frown until I have to look away. I’ve lost my appetite.

  Eventually Sherrie notices that I’m not eating. When she asks me if I’m feeling alright I mumble some excuse about too much popcorn. She takes this as the truth. When the check comes she makes a grab for it but I take it.

  “I asked you out after all,” I say at her failed attempts to pay for dinner. As we leave the diner I can see Max out of the corner of my eye. He follows our progress as we walk through the diner and out the door. We make it as far as the edge of the sidewalk where we need to cross the street when I stop.

  “What?” Sherrie asks. We’re holding hands and I give hers a little tug and that’s all the encouragement she needs to come a little closer. I look into her huge, brown eyes and taking a deep breath and mentally crossing my fingers I lean in and kiss her. My heart is pounding because I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. It’s a chaste kiss. I barely even part my lips.

  Sherrie moves in closer to me and puts her hands on my shoulders. I place mine on her waist and the kiss deepens. There are no butterflies and no stomach flips and yet it’s …nice. I move one hand to the back of her head and softly tease my tongue along her lips until she invites me in and then we’re just kissing and touching and hands in hair and it’s nice, safe. After a couple of minutes we slowly break apart and Sherrie just smiles at me and takes my hand again and we continue the walk to my house.

  Back at my house we kiss again before Sherrie gets in the car to drive home. Kissing Sherrie is nice, innocent and I wish she had been my first kiss. In a way I wish she’d been my only kiss. She finally gets in the car to go home and I let myself into the house feeling happier and more normal than I have in weeks.

  ****

  On Saturday Mom is getting ready to meet Lydia Maxwell when she has what she thinks is a great idea. “Why don’t you guys invite Mark and Max along to the game with you?” Was she not paying attention when I told her Max and I aren’t friends anymore or is this just a lame attempt to get us to talk?

  “No, just us,” I say to Dad.

  “That might not be a bad idea,” Dad says.

  “Someone has to stay home with Matty and Sammi anyway,” I argue. “Come on, Dad, we haven’t done anything just the two of us since we bought paint for my room.”

  “The boy speaks the truth,” says Dad.

  “Well, okay suit yourselves. I just think you and Max should clear up whatever this argument is about. You’ve both been miserable so just put it aside and be friends again,” Mom says. She must be comparing notes with Lydia. Thank God Max seems to have kept his mouth shut about the whole thing and Ly
dia is just as clueless as my mom about what happened.

  Dad and I head to Hershey early enough to grab some dinner before the game. We go to a Japanese restaurant because I’m really bummed I wasn’t feeling up to the sushi they brought home last weekend. Sushi and Udon and seaweed salad probably isn’t a typical pre-sporting event meal but then I guess I’m not a typical sixteen-year-old boy either. Dad doesn’t mind at all. He’d rather have sushi than pizza or arena hot dogs anyway.

  “So you really just wanted a night out with just dear old dad?” he asks after we order. I shrug.

  “Sure. You’ve been really busy with the book and that’s great but yeah, I guess I wanted to hang out with just you.” I play with my chopsticks while we’re waiting for our food so I don’t have to look at him.

  “You really have no desire to patch things up with Max?” he asks. “I just ask because Mom and Lydia really get along great and Mom needs some friends here. Like you said, I’m so busy with the book.”

  “Mom can be friends with whoever she wants,” I say.

  “Whomever,” my dad the English professor corrects me. I roll my eyes.

  “Okay, whomever. Just don’t expect me to go to any more family dinners at the Maxwells’ or anything.” Where is the damned food? It’s not like sushi needs to be cooked.

  Finally the food arrives but he continues to pry a bit while we eat. I think he thinks he’s more subtle than Mom and he probably is but I still know what he’s doing. He’s trying to find out if I’m really okay. He’s trying to find out how serious the supposed fight with Max is. He’s trying to figure out if I should start taking meds regularly again.

  After dinner I think he’s finally convinced everything is alright and we head to the arena. Dad grew up on the Hershey Bears. He’s been into hockey since he was a kid and played a bit when he was in school. I’ve seen the pictures or I wouldn’t believe it. My dad now is so far from jock that it’s like he was a different person then. Sometimes it feels weird to me to think that my parents had completely separate lives before I was born. Every time I think about this fact I wonder how much their lives changed because of me. It’s not a good feeling and it’s not one I share with them.