Tumble & Fall by Alexandra Coutts Read Free Book Online Page B

still foggy and his feet feel stuck. He finds a bathroom and shuts himself inside. There are peach-colored soaps in the shape of scallop shells, and matching towels neatly stacked on a shelf. He looks at his face in the mirror, the dark circles under his eyes, the greasy red mop of his hair. His own reflection is by far the scariest thing in the room.
    He follows the grinding noise down a wide, marble staircase, around a corner, and into a kitchen, all shiny black countertops and sleek, modern appliances. There’s a small, plump woman in an apron, tilting a heavy blender over a row of glasses. Her bare arms are caramel-colored and her silky black hair is knotted in a bun.
    As if she’s been expecting him, the woman turns. Caden ducks quickly back into the hallway. He’s suddenly afraid. Is this a dream? How can he wake himself up? And if it’s not a dream, where is he, and how can he get the hell out?
    There’s a swishing sound behind him. The long panels of a floor-length curtain sway in the breeze, revealing a pair of white French doors, propped open just a crack. A misty light filters through. This is how it must be in dreams, he thinks. You ask for a door, and you get one.
    The doors open onto a smooth, stone patio, lined with sturdy wooden lounge chairs. The chairs are arranged at precise intervals, surrounding a bean-shaped infinity pool. The water is perfectly still and artificially turquoise, a shimmering frame that mirrors the garden behind it.
    Caden blinks purple sunspots from his eyes.
    “You’re up.”
    He jumps at the voice, knocking against the ceramic lip of a massive potted fern. The wind rustles and through the leafy fronds he glimpses a pair of long, tanned legs, outstretched and bent at an easy angle. Two narrow feet wiggle back and forth, light purple polish glinting in the sun.
    Caden slowly sidesteps the plant.
    “Hey,” say the legs.
    For the first time all morning, Caden hopes that he’s really awake. He knows that he’s staring, but there doesn’t seem to be anywhere else to look. “Hi,” he squeaks. He clears his throat and tries again. “Hi,” he says, this time too loud and drawn out across many ridiculous syllables.
    The woman—girl? Dark, oversize glasses shield her eyes and make it hard to guess her age—pushes herself up to her elbows and smiles.
    “Caden, right?” She pushes her glasses up into her hair. Her eyes are brown, but not a boring brown. A light, full brown that looks like melted pennies, flecked with orange and green. She’s definitely older than he is. Not by much. Twenty-four, he guesses, though he has no idea why.
    “Hi,” he says, for the third time. “I mean,” he stumbles. “Yeah.”
    “I’m Sophie,” she says, holding out her hand. Caden shakes it, grateful for another opportunity to look at her face. Her hair is honey-colored and pulled back in a low, loose ponytail. It drapes over one shoulder and curls up like an inverted question mark, circling the dip in her neck. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
    Sophie lets her hand fall onto her bare stomach, tanned and toned and still wet from a swim. Caden averts his eyes to the top of his shoes and wishes they were cooler, or at least less grimy and gross. “Finally?” he manages. “Who … I mean … where am I? What is this place?”
    Sophie chuckles. “I ask myself that every day.” She fumbles with something on the ground and Caden hears the snap of a bottle of sunscreen. He keeps his gaze trained on the grassy cracks between the stones as she rubs lotion onto the bronzed top of her shoulders.
    If this isn’t a dream, he thinks, it must be some kind of a prank. Somebody has kidnapped him primarily in order to mess with him. His eyes dart around the pool, to the corners of the arbor overhead. Surely there are cameras, somewhere. Somebody’s twisted idea of end-of-the-world reality TV.
    Instead of cameras, he sees a shadow, stretched long from behind another wall of potted