searching for a fallen star

Chapter 7: Falling

The scrawny, olive-skinned boy appears out of nowhere.

When he walks closer, I’m surprised to find that he’s actually a few inches taller than me, because the way he holds his figure – shoulders slouched, arms wrapped about his stomach, head drooping down – makes him seem so much shorter. And smaller. He raises a tentative hand and waves, wearing this shy, dimpled smile, as if approaching me is the most nerve-wracking thing he’s ever done.

I wave back, surprising myself when I take a step forward. Usually if a stranger even wanders remotely close to me, I would make a run for it in the opposite direction, but there is something about this skinny boy that makes me feel… at ease.

“Hi,” I say.

“Hi.” His tone is hesitant. “Could I –” He clears his throat awkwardly, tugging at his collar. “Would you – What's your –” His neck is flaming red as he clears his throat again.

I grin at his embarrassment. “I’m Anna. Anna Truman.” I hold out my hand.

He stares me as if he can’t believe that I’m actually holding my hand out. “You’re supposed to shake it, doofus.” I say teasingly.

“Right.” He casts me another shy smile, as he grabs a hold of my hand. His grip is surprisingly warm and firm. “Well, I’m Nathanial Evans. Which is a ridiculously long name if you ask me, and no one even calls me by that name anyway... Well, no one except my great grandmother...” He adds with an afterthought, before trailing off as he notices the amused look on my face. I’m mainly amused because just under a minute ago, he was barely able to get even two words out of his mouth, and now… now he’s babbling?

“Just… call me Nash.”

He tugs at his collar, an apologetic smile written across his face.“Sorry. I’m not usually this nervous.”

“I’m usually very nervous,” I say, laughing slightly at the irony of this situation.

His shy demeanour seems to vanish as he laughs along – a deep, resonant laugh.

His blue eyes light up. “Hey, you wanna do something fun?”

Before I can even open my lips to reply, he grabs a hold of the bridge railing and begins climbing over.

“What are you –?”

He jumps.

Right off the bridge. Right into the lake. There’s a loud splash and a second later, his head pops up.

“This is stupid!” I call out to him, both hands pressed against the metal railing, even though there's a part of me that is secretly shouting, This is awesome!

“You’re stupid for not wanting to try this!” He pushes back wavy locks of hair, and gestures for me to come down.

“Come on Anna!”

He chants like a maniac. “Anna! Anna! Anna!”

I roll my eyes. What is this – a football game?

“Fine!” I groan, as I begin climbing over the railing, trying to ignore my pounding heart – or more specifically, trying to ignore the fact that my heart is not pounding in fear, but in pure exhilaration.

Closing my eyes, I take a leap and let myself fall –

 

“Anna!”

My eyes jolt open.

I notice a figure standing very close to me. I blink several times. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Brown, murky eyes. Greasy hair. A fucking beer bottle in his hand?

What the fuck? I scramble up from my makeshift bed, holding my hands out. “Get the hell away from me, or I swear –” 

What the fuck is he doing awake in the middle of the night? He should be knocked out by now. The ridiculous amount of beer he drinks every night has always done the job of knocking him out. There was a time when I absolutely hated the fact that he had to drink himself to sleep, but now? Now I know better. Now I know it’s far better for him to be asleep than fucking awake.

I narrow my eyes. “What do you want from me?”

He flinches, and a flash of hurt passes through his clouded eyes. “Anna…” His voice cracks and he takes an uncertain step forward.

“Did you not hear what I said before?” I’m practically shouting now, my eyes wide from panic. “Get the fuck away from me!”

“I’m trying, Anna! I really am trying!”

Him? Trying? I scoff. When was the last time he tried? When was the last time he placed me over some stupid alcohol?

“Try harder.” I manage to spit out.

“B-but –”

A shrill ringing cuts his feeble splutter off. My phone.

Oliver.

I ignore the drunken man’s slight frown as I answer the phone.

“Hello? Oliver?”

He widens his murky eyes at ‘Oliver’. His fingers suddenly loosen, and the beer bottle smashes to the ground, its contents spreading along the floor, but the old man doesn’t even notice, and all he’s doing is staring at me and at the phone, lips parted, eyes fearful.

The person who answers isn’t Oliver, but a woman. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Are you Oliver Penn’s family?”

“No, I’m his…” What am I? His acquaintance? Someone who just met him a day ago but whom he seems to know for far longer than a day?

“Friend.” I finally say.

“Well, ma’am, you’re the only contact listed in Mr Penn’s phone. Do you know if Mr Penn has any family at all?”

Fear gnaws at my stomach. I swallow hard. “Who is this?”

“Ma’am, I’m calling from St Vincent’s Hospital. I’m so sorry, but Mr Penn was involved in a terrible accident and…”

Loud buzzing fills my ears and suddenly I can’t find my next breath. Suddenly, I’m falling again, just as I had been in my dream, except this time, there’s no rush of exhilaration, no lake or boy at the bottom waiting to catch me. This time, there is only a deep, sinking terror that grips onto me and keeps and keeps on pushing me down, until I realise that I’m not falling anymore.

I’m drowning.

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A/N: So the story is finally moving forward! Many new things happening in this chapter... a new character introduced... who is this Nash?... Oliver's surname (which I realised I never told you guys :P)... Oliver in an accident?! 

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