Much Like Falling

Chapter Five

I didn’t know how long I had driven for, but it felt like hours in the silence. I still didn’t know the girl’s name, but there was one thing I did know, and that was she hated listening to music while driving, and I hated to admit but that annoyed the hell out of me. I loved music, it helped me drown out the pain, but I guess with her by my side, I didn’t need to feel anything. She was alive. We were both alive, and that was all that mattered. The thought of suicide still lingered, but I accepted that I’d be feeling like this for a while. I was alive, yes, but so were my problems.

I had stopped somewhere along the seaside so we could watch the rest of the sun go down, and I hadn’t been bothered to drive since. It was peaceful, both admiring the silence that covered us. It was like we understood each other, we didn’t need to talk. Clouds covered the moon and we were soon in complete darkness.

There was one thing wrong with the silence; it gave me time to think. I wondered how things were back at home, and if anyone was worried about me. I doubted it; I often disappeared for the night, so this was nothing out of the ordinary for my family. What about the girl sitting in the passenger seat? Was her family worried? Was her family used to their daughter disappearing? I didn’t think so, and I ached to find answers to my never-ending list of questions. I just didn’t want to pry. I didn’t want her to break. And that was why I was so surprised when she was the first to break the silence.

“Are we in the same English class?” Her voice was weak and frigid, and I smirked at her question.

I nodded then mentally smacked myself as I remembered she couldn’t see me. “Yeah we are. I don’t think I know your name, though.” I prayed she wouldn’t take that as an insult, I had social issues. I hugged my hoodie closer, still feeling too exposed even though I had put it on as soon as we got to my car.  

“That’s OK, I don’t know yours either.”

I closed my eyes and leaned deeper into the driver’s seat. “That makes me feel a little better.” It went silent again, but this time I felt uncomfortable. It didn’t feel right to suddenly stop talking. The air was cold and empty, and it was filling us.

Just when I thought she had fallen asleep, I heard her shuffle in her seat. “Why were you at the lookout?”

I let the question hang in the air a little longer than necessary. She still didn’t believe me. “Same as you,” I shrugged into the darkness.

“Why?” I didn’t like where this conversation was headed. We were practically strangers, but in ways, it was easier to talk to someone who didn’t know your past. It was better that way, to confide.

“What do you mean?” I was too tired to think properly. It was almost one in the morning, when did this girl sleep? Maybe she still didn’t trust me enough to sleep in my car.

“Well,” she continued, “Normally the smallest, silliest things push us to the edge. What was yours?”

“Um,” I wondered if I should tell her the full story of today, or yesterday according to the digits on my car’s clock. I’d just keep it simple. “I broke the washing machine.”

“You broke the washing machine?” she was laughing. Why was she laughing?

 “I sure did… why are you laughing?”

“I don’t know. Sorry, I just find that so funny,” she said in-between giggles. She was trying to make herself stop laughing, but it really was not working. All sorts of different splutters and coughs escaped beneath her hands. I smiled and began to laugh, too.

“What’s your small, silliest reason?”

She giggled, “My parents got angry because I cut the washing line. I didn’t want to hang the clothes out,”

We both broke into fits of laughter. It was obvious there was more to our story, but the fact that our stories were so similar and pointless, made me laugh. It felt good, and I was nowhere near ready to kill the mood. Something about the way we were both laughing made me feel closer to this girl, as if we were just two friends, but then I remembered I didn’t even know her name. Suddenly, she snorted, which made us both sit up in our seats with laughter. My sides were aching and my eyes started to water. I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed so hard.

It was a couple of minutes before we finally calmed down, in which she said, “I’m really tired,”

I frowned into the darkness. I wasn’t ready to sleep anymore, but it was my duty to make her as comfortable as possible and look after her. I was tired too, just more reluctant to sleep as always. “Yeah, we should sleep. There’s a leaver on your left to put the back down,”  

I heard her fumble in the darkness, then she shyly sort-of cried out as the back of her seat flung back. “Can I trust you not to do anything while I sleep?” I could tell it took her a lot of courage to ask that and even though I knew it was coming, the question still caught me off guard.

I wasn’t that guy, the one who took advantage of girls. She was vulnerable, and I only wanted to save her, like she saved me. I kept my voice steady. “I would never do something. I can promise you that,”

“Pinky promise?” she asked, and in the darkness I could only just see her extending her arm.

“Pinky promise,” I found her pinky, feeling the warmth of her skin on mine. I didn’t want to let go, but knew I had to. I didn’t want to scare her.

“And promise you won’t leave? It’s scary here.”

“I promise. I will be right here. You’re safe with me.”

She replied slowly, “I think I believe you. Have a good sleep!”

“Thanks, you too,”