The Fear of Falling

Epilogue

I screamed, convinced I'd fall on my ass and make a fool of myself in front of Gavin. He skated beside me, insisting I'd be fine.

"I can't believe you've never been ice skating before," he laughed, guiding me away from the safety of the wall.

"I grew up in Florida," I wobbled across the ice, "it's not like I had much of a chance."

"Well, we'll just have to rectify that."

On our first date, he just had to take me somewhere I couldn't stand. He made it clear that hanging onto the railing wasn't an option so my options were to skate or, butt-scoot across the ice.

I chose the less humiliating option.

Gavin wrapped his arm around my waist, supporting me so I wouldn't wipe out, "I got you."

I turned, meeting his loving, soft gaze, and smiled. "Just don't let go."

Don't ever let go.

***

The packed bowling lanes were swarming with drunk college students and teenage birthday parties. Two things that should probably never mix.

"Your turn," I said, walking back from another strike. Gavin had no chance of catching up in the few remaining frames but he had no intention of giving up.

We had decided to have one final night out, a night of freedom, before flying to Florida the next morning. I knew that although my parents meant well, they'd never let us out of their sight.

Psychological research on smothered children be damned.

Bowling was my attempt at reclaiming some pride. After spending our first date scrambling on the ice like a baby deer learning to walk, I needed to earn back some cool points.

He rolled his dark eyes at me, playfully, "You're gloating again."

"By saying it's your turn?" I laughed, "Maybe you're just a sore loser."

"Maybe I'm distracted."

"By what?"

Gavin grinned while scanning my body suggestively, perversely. Before I could blush, I shooed him off to secure my victory while thinking of other, alluring ways to celebrate our last moments of privacy together.

***

Gavin tossed a stack of my folded sweaters at me, already chastising me for "bringing so many clothes."

"What's the big deal?" I huffed, sorting them by color in their assigned dresser drawer.

"Florida. You brought thirteen sweaters to Florida."

I frowned, when he put it like that, I sounded unreasonable. "It's winter, sweaters are a winter necessity."

He laughed, "The temperature never dropped below seventy degrees."

So he says.

"Whatever." I narrowed my eyes, knowing where that would get me.

Gavin scoffed, predictably not enjoying my attitude, "Whatever?"

"Yep."

He crossed the room, leaving his post by my suitcase to instead, wrap his arms around my waist. "That's not a very nice thing to say to your boyfriend."

I'd never get sick of hearing that.

"Maybe I would be nicer to my boyfriend if he wasn't so concerned with my clothing choices."