Catch My Fall by Ella Fox Read Free Book Online

myself that I only tensed up a very little bit.  Turning around I raised an eyebrow and said, “Why thank you, Stan!  Here I thought you wouldn’t like anything that isn’t Eau de Tramp.”
    Instead of getting pissy or annoyed, he threw back his head and laughed.  When he stopped, he gave me a devilish grin before replying, “It’s good to know you were thinking about me and whether I’d like it when you put on your perfume.”
    Foot? Yeah, meet my mouth.
    I wish ed that a hole the exact size of me would open up to take me away. Summoning up a tiny scrap of dignity, I batted my eyelashes at him dramatically and nodded.  “ Of course I was thinking about you, Stan!  You’re all that and a dish of peaches.”  Giving him a little wink I spun on my heel, grabbed the doorknob, and went into class. 
    Out of the corner of my eye, I noted that he took the seat next to me as I pulled out my pen and notebook.  When I was settled, he leaned over and set two unopened packs of pens on my desk —the same brand and color of the pen I had given him on our first day of class. 
    “What’s this?”
    “It’s my way of apologizing for trying the forgotten-pen play on you.  I know you think I’m a total tool, but I’m not like that to Darby and I won’t be like that to you.”
    I looked from the pens to him in wonder.  It was such a small, inconsequential thing really, but no guy had ever given me a gift before.  I know it was just pens and not a book of poetry or something, but it was…unexpected.
    Smiling shyly at him I said, “This was a really sweet thing to do.  I don’t think you’re a tool, Tristan.  I’ve just been teasing you.  Sorry if I’ve given you a complex.”
    Our instructor started the class at the perfect moment, leaving Tristan unable to formulate any kind of a comeback.  I went away in my mind as the instructor droned on and on about the importance of Business Math.  Instead of listening, I thought about how strange it was that I was able to have a joking back and forth with Tristan.  I hardly know him at all, yet somehow I was comfortable enough to joke around with him, and that’s not something I’ve ever done with any guy. 
    Even before the incident, I was never the type to feel at ease around guys.  My therapist says a lot of that is due to the utter lack of any kind of real relationship with my father.  Back before the divorce when my father was still married to my mom, he was always short tempered and easily annoyed with me.  He spent a lot of his time yelling at my mother, belittling her sense of fashion, her weight, her voice, and even the books she read.  He told me quite often that I was a disappointment to him because I hadn’t been a son, and, according to my therapist, I internalized all of that.
    The storm that was my parents’ marriage came to a head one Saturday morning when I was seven.  My mother was at the stove making eggs for breakfast and I was carrying out my duty of setting the table.  As I got to my father’s spot, he made a sound of pure annoyance as he looked up from his paper to announce that there was no need for me to put silverware at his spot since he was leaving. 
    I can still hear my mother ’s nervous laugh when she asked him where he was going, and I’ll never forget the look of absolute disdain on his face as he informed her that he had bought himself a penthouse apartment and movers were on their way to get his things.  After a few seconds my mother started to cry, but I can still see her initial reaction in my mind, and I know that what she felt first was relief. I knew right then, with absolute certainty, that she had only stayed with my father because of me, and I felt like I had ruined her life.  I never said that to her, but I felt it deeply.  In a lot of ways, I still believe that getting pregnant with me left her in a terrible situation that adversely affected her life.  I said as much to my therapist and she had adamantly