Piper The Day She Fell

Piper

The Day She Fell

Abby's still sitting in the truck, and I walk past, feigning surprise when our eyes meet through the rolled-down window.

"Abby?"

She straightens, pulls her black Vans down from the dash, and shuts her paperback copy of The Great Gatsby . "Oh, hey, Piper. What's up?"

"I know I'm a little late, but I was headed up the trail to the Survival Club meeting."

She stares back at me blankly. "It's Wednesday, Piper."

"Right, but the note you gave me from Mr. Davis?" She's either not following or pretending not to follow. "It said to meet up the trail for an extra session."

Her lips purse as she takes in a slow breath. "Oh, that." She leans against the elbow rest of the door. "Listen, Piper, you should probably know…"

"Know what?" I ask, relieved that someone finally seems to have heard about today's meeting.

Abby twirls a red curl around her finger, and her gaze shifts away from me. "It was canceled, the extra meeting. Mr. Davis couldn't fit it in. Sorry you didn't get the updated memo."

It's a lie, though. Grant didn't get the first memo or the second.

"No problem," I say, already pulling up my text chain with Noah to ask if he got a note.

But then I remember. We're not speaking.

"It's not your fault," I add, lowering my phone. "If Mr. Davis is going to cancel meetings, he should probably stick to holding them on school grounds."

"Right?" She lets out a nervous chuckle.

"I'm a little worried that Crawford is lost and alone up there somewhere." I never call Noah by his last name, and it sounds strange floating through the air.

Abby gives me a knowing smile. "I'm sure he's fine. Mr. Davis's note to you probably just got lost in the office's stacks of memos." She pulls out a pack of gum and offers me a stick. "Is everything still…rough with you two?"

Rough . That would require the two of us to be anything at all. But Noah and I are nothing. Today's conversation at lunch is proof. "Still rough," I admit, moving close enough to smell the truck's cigarette-infused interior. I unwrap the gum and pop it into my mouth. The spicy taste of peppermint coats my tongue. I reach into my jacket pocket for my recorder, but it isn't there. I must've left it back in Mr. Davis's office.

My brain splits and scatters in a thousand directions as Abby stares at me. I turn my phone in my hand and search for the voice memo app I never use, pretending like I'm scrolling through texts. I press record and let my eyes begin to well. I don't have to try very hard; I've been on the verge of tears for hours. "You know," I say, "it's one of the hardest things I've ever been through, and I was thinking…" Abby nods, her head poised in a compassionate tilt. "I've heard that Sam has"—I stop chewing the gum and try desperately to sound like I've done this before—"stuff. To, like, help with things. To make me sleep and make things not so hard?"

Abby's mouth drops open, and fear surges in my chest. I've made a horrible mistake by listening to Grant. He must've used Sam as an excuse to get away from me.

But then Abby's lip hitches back up, and she smiles. "Sure, Piper. We can help you out."

And just like that, I've got them.