The Fear of Falling

Chapter Thirty Two

After a whopping three and a quarter hours of restless sleep, Gavin coaxed me out of the apartment. He said that breakfast would be "his treat" because he suggested the late-night movie.

I didn't have the energy to turn down the offer.

The city streets teemed with morning risers, putting me to shame with their cheery expressions.

Meanwhile, I looked like a startled raccoon struggling to catch up to my tall, dark, and handsome escort.

My morning nosedived into the concrete after a swarm of mom vloggers with yoga mats strapped to their backs revealed my current least favorite person.

"Oh my God," a bottle blonde charged straight toward us. Long, pink claws protruded from her hands, and adjusted her sports bra's thin lime green straps. "What a coincidence."

I struggled not to frown. Mac's faux smile set my nerves on fire.

Gavin stood beside me, stone-faced, before saying, "It's a small city."

Too small.

"Well, I just mean after last night." Her gaze drifted towards me, evil lurking behind her eyes.

Dealing with Mac's antics was not on my bingo card for the day, but there I was, fighting the urge to shove her into the gutter.

While I fantasized about her pink leggings covered in sewage water, Gavin shook his head. "I told you, I'm busy."

"The auction only happens once a year, Gavvy. You should come and mingle. I'm sure we can set aside our differences. We're going to be colleagues, after all."

I frowned. The charity auction? My professors hadn't shut up about it for weeks.

"When is it?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"Tonight," Mac answered, glancing in my direction for a second, and then continued to ignore my presence, "And Dr. Williams will be there."

Gavin's expression softened, just enough for her to assume she had won. She clapped her hands. "Great! It's black tie. I'll meet you at your apartment around eight."

I narrowed my eyes.

"I think Meg and I can get there on our own."

My head snapped in time to see Gavin's smug expression. Meg and I?

"Oh," Mac stammered, struggling to form a sentence, "I think the dinner is only for the department and I don't want Megan to feel out of place."

Megan?

"I'll be fine." The words came out sharper than I intended, drawing the attention of Mac and Gavin. I cleared my throat. "Thank you for the concern, though."

"See?" Gavin smiled, redirecting his attention to Mac. "She'll be fine. And if it's a problem, we'll leave."

Mac smirked, already planning to accidentally stab me with a fork at dinner. "It starts at eight."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and brushed past Gavin. Clearly, that didn't go how she wanted.

I scoffed, unable to hold back my annoyance any longer. "What, is she tracking us now?"

Gavin snickered. "One of her friends has an apartment up here. She probably just finished terrorizing him."

Of course.

"What did she mean by colleagues?"

Instead of answering, Gavin started walking down the sidewalk without me. I hurried to catch up.

"Is she working at the university now?" I stepped over a sewer grate and avoided a pile of chewed gum on the street. Meanwhile, Gavin sauntered on.

He stared straight ahead as if that would dissuade me from asking again.

"Gavin."

Finally, he gave up. "She accepted an office position. Nothing major."

"In your department?"

"Yes."

My heart sank.

He sighed, "We won't see each other often." When I didn't respond, he continued, "She'll get bored soon, Megs. I promise."

I nodded, unconvinced that she'd ever leave him alone and wondering where that left us.

****

I waited, sprawled across the couch with existential dread creeping into the cracks of resolve.

After being ambushed by Mac, the day took a sour turn. Gavin and I barely talked at breakfast and instead of picking out a dress for dinner, I debated whether I should go.

Speaking to Mac for a minute felt like having needles jabbed underneath my fingernails. Spending hours sitting across from her would likely end in my untimely death.

If Gavin knew that, he didn't seem to be worried. Ariana Grande filled the apartment for hours while he worked behind a closed door.

So when he finally left his bedroom, covered in paint, I sat up.

"Are you sure I should go tonight?" I asked before I could lose the nerve.

He crossed the living room, glancing in my direction for a split second before disappearing into the kitchen.

I heard the fridge open. "Do you want to go?"

"I don't want to be Mac's punching bag all night." I shifted on the sofa. I stopped looking for drama in the seventh grade when Katie Ruck repeatedly spiked a volleyball on my head for smiling at her boyfriend.

"Then, we'll stay home."

I shook my head despite the wall separating us."But this is a big deal for you, isn't it?"

"My career will recover." He responded, unwavering.

I sighed, unwilling to let him throw away a good opportunity. "You should go."

"Without you?"

A knot formed in my throat. Mac will get exactly what she wants.

Gavin stepped into the doorway. "I'm not leaving you here so I can suffer through dinner with my ex."

I stared at him, my heart fluttering in my chest. Sunlight streamed through the open windows and warmed my skin.

Before I could respond, he continued, "If you come with me, I'll let you take those photos."

I raised an eyebrow. The naked ones? It had started as a joke after stumbling on a nude black-and-white photography collection while studying for midterms.

Gavin refused at first, but now, he presented me with an offer I couldn't refuse.

"Two rolls of film?"

"One." He leaned on the doorframe, his lean torso stealing my attention. "And you can't develop them during regular school hours."

I laughed, suddenly willing to subject myself to Mac's dinner from hell as long as Gavin stayed by my side.

"Deal."

****

I willed myself to look straight ahead and not at my feet. Gavin led me through a series of grey, empty rooms. With each passing second, my nerves mounted.

Not that he could prevent that, even if I told him.

I felt like a soldier, marching into war with cherry lip balm and black stiletto heels as my only weapons.

Thea had taught me the most effective way to stab someone with my five-inch strappy shoes, but I saved that knowledge for real emergencies.

Not vicious, fake blonde ex-girlfriends.

"Ready?" Gavin turned with his hand already resting on the door handle.

I nodded, afraid that if I opened my mouth, I'd ask to go home.