How We Fall

chapter 1

Last year, Ellie used to hang out at the vegetable stand with Marcus and me on Saturdays. This year, her face fluttered on a piece of paper tacked to the park's bulletin board. Most weeks, I tried to ignore her eyes looking back at me. But today, Marcus had set the table up at a different angle, and she watched me the entire morning.

The day that photo was taken, she'd worn her Beauty and the Beast earrings. The teapot and the teacup were too small to see well in the grainy, blown-up photo, but that's what they were. She'd insisted sixteen wasn't too old for Disney. 

The crunch of tires on gravel sounded, and a Buick slowed to a stop in front of the stand. I rearranged the bags of green beans to have something to do. Talking to people I didn't know, making pointless small talk, wasn't my thing. My breathing always sped up and I never knew what to do with my hands. It had been okay before, but now-surely people could see it on me. One look, and they'd know. Chills prickled up my arms in spite of the warm sun. 

Marcus lifted a new crate of cucumbers from the truck and set it down by the table, his biceps stretching the sleeves of his T-shirt. Barely paying attention to the girl who got out of the car, he watched me instead. And not the way most people watched someone; I had his full attention. All of him, tuned toward me. He winked, the tanned skin around his eyes crinkling when he smiled. I bit my cheek to keep from grinning. 

The girl walked over to the stand and I quit smiling. 

Marcus looked away from me, his gaze drifting toward the girl. Each step of her strappy heels made my stomach sink a little further. Marcus tilted his head.  

He didn't tilt it much, but I knew what it meant. He did that when he saw my tan line or I wore a short skirt. I narrowed my eyes. 

"Hi," she said. "I'd like a zucchini and four tomatoes." Just like that. A zucchini and four tomatoes. 

Marcus placed the tomatoes into a brown paper bag. "Are you from around here?" 

Of course she wasn't from around here. We'd know her if she were. 

"We just moved. I'm Sylvia Young." The breeze toyed with her blonde hair, tossing short wisps around her high cheekbones. Her smile seemed genuine and friendly. Of course. Pretty, friendly, and new to town, because disasters come in threes. 

"Going to Manson High?" Marcus handed her the bags. 

She nodded. "My dad's teaching science." 

Finally, I said something. "Three bucks." 

"Hmm?" Sylvia turned from Marcus. "Oh. Right." She handed me the cash and looked over the radishes. "Are you here every day?" Her eyes strayed back to Marcus. 

"Three times a week," he said. 

"I'll see you in a day or two, then." She waved. 

I was pretty damn sure she wouldn't be coming back for the radishes. 

Sylvia Young walked herself and her vegetables back to the four-door parked at the edge of the road. The tires spit gravel. 

I glanced at Marcus, but he wasn't watching her leave. He was rearranging the tomatoes. In true Marcus fashion, now that four of them were gone, he'd want to make the pile neat again. 

I exhaled. Maybe I was overreacting, but he hadn't done that before. 

"You're going to bruise those." I grabbed a tomato that nearly tumbled off the mound. The globe-shaped Early Girls rolled too easily. 

"Don't we have extra crates?" I looked to the shade of the bulletin board, where we stored the refill crates. No empties. 

"Nope. Too much corn." He wiped the sweat from his forehead and popped the top on his water bottle.