The Girl Who Fell by S.M. Parker

he registers my presence. His face falls. Plummets. Bails and leaves the stratosphere.
    â€œWhat’s up?” Gregg stands but doesn’t extend his customary invitation to sit on the edge of the bed.
    The bed, where we played countless hands of gin rummy and talked our throats sore. The bed is now a line between us, dividing what used to be and what is.
    â€œI missed you today.” The words are out before I can think if they’re the right ones.
    He runs his fingers through his thick mass of strawberry hair. “Yeah.”
    I take him in, his straight shoulders, serious height, and the constellation of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Any girl would be crazy to complain about a kiss from him. But I’m not any girl. I’m his best friend.
    He turns away, winds his earbuds around his iPod and places it on his desk. I can’t see his eyes when he says, “So you’re kissing Alec now?”
    â€œGod, Gregg. I’m so sorry about that.” I should have taken more control of the situation. Stopped Alec before Gregg had any chance of seeing us together.
    Gregg faces me, his eyebrows raised. “You’re sorry for kissing Alec?”
    I drop my gaze to the floor. “No.” The admission is a disgraced whisper wrapped in shame.
    â€œDidn’t think so.”
    â€œI’m sorry you had to—”
    â€œDo you know what I’m sorry about, Zephyr?” Gregg harpoons me with his pointed gaze.
    I shake my head. I know and I don’t know and I don’t want to know.
    â€œI’m sorry you didn’t want me to kiss you. I’m sorry you didn’t kiss me back the way you kissed Alec. I’m sorry that kissing you is something I’ve been thinking about since we were twelve years old and we found that rope swing by the quarry.”
    I remember that summer. I’d borrowed his shirt to swim in because we hadn’t known the quarry would be full of water. I fell asleep in the late afternoon grass and he got a sunburn on half his face. Because he’d been on his side the whole time I’d slept, watching me rest.
    â€œGregg . . .” The word thin as wind. I take a step closer to him.
    â€œDon’t.” He thrusts out his hand to stop me. “You’ve known this dude for all of, like, five minutes and you’re sucking face with him at the rink. In front of everybody? Jesus, Zephyr. You’ve known me your whole life and you don’t have enough respect for me to take that shit someplace where I don’t have to see it?”
    â€œGregg—”
    â€œNo. You don’t get to come here and ask me to pretend everything is normal. I can’t just show up at your game like none of this happened. You can’t have it both ways, Zeph. That’s not the way shit like this works. You made your choice and I get to make mine.”
    His words steal air from the room.
    â€œI think it might be better if you weren’t here right now.”
    I force my feet to move, my heart not to shatter. At the door, I tell him, “I’m really sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone.” I hope he hears the truth in the apology.
    When I leave Gregg’s, I feel a strange need to see Alec. Be propped up by the security of his arms. I pull into Gosland Park and call him.
    â€œWe won,” I tell him, forcing my tone bright. “But I played like hell. I’m feeling pretty beat up. Any chance you’re free?”
    â€œI wish. But I’m wiped. Coach had me at special practice, blocking shots from a machine all afternoon. I wish I could have been at your game instead. I’m bummed I missed it.”
    â€œYeah, no . . . that’s cool.” I bite at the skin at the edge of my thumb. Silence hangs.
    â€œYou gonna be okay?”
    â€œFine. Yeah.” I squint at the abandoned swing set.
    â€œI’ll make it up to you. Promise.”
    â€œIt’s nothing,” I lie.