Page 25 of Falling

“Rude,” Evie responded.

“Not you, the squirrel.”

“Still rude,” she said. “So, things are looking up? This is maybe not the total disaster you thought it was?”

“I have bookshelves now,” I admitted. “But Booker had to rescue me from a roving band of preschoolers today.”

“He rescued you?” Evie asked. I could hear the way her eyebrow had just arched in the sound of her voice. “And the fishing thing isn’t a date?”

“I’m not…”

Gay.

Interested.

I reached out to stroke the lacy leaves of the fern Booker had given me, which seemed happy on my nightstand, and let the sentence trail off.

“Ryder dropped in to give me another couple of chapters of his book,” I said instead. “We figured out how the library printing system works together. He invited me to dinner, too.”

“See! You’re making friends.”

I sighed, letting my fingers fall away from the fern.

“I still don’t feel like I belong here. I’m not… good with people.”

“You’re better than you think,” Evie said, voice warm. “People love you so much. I wish… I wish you saw yourself like I see you. Like everyone else does.”

“Overdressed?”

Evie snorted. “You have a strong sense of style. It’s allowed. I live in athleisure wear because I’m both a personal trainer and also a slob.”

“Dad’s proud of you,” I said.

“Dad’s given up on trying to fix me,” she retorted.

“You don’t need fixing.”

“Neither do you.”

I swallowed. Not just at the words, but the way Evie’s voice changed when she said it.

“You don’t need fixing,” Evie echoed my own words back at me. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

I didn’t entirely believe that, but I didn’t want to argue, either.

“Except the orange juice on my cereal?” I asked.

“Okay, except that,” Evie allowed. “That’s definitely something wrong with you.”

“Booker likes orange juice on his cereal,” I defended. “So I’m not, y’know. Uniquely weird, there.”

“You won’t eat marshmallows raw, either, whatever that means,” Evie said.

“It means you can’t just take them out of the bag and eat them. You’ve gotta do something with them, toast them or melt them into hot chocolate or something. Otherwise they’re gross.”

“You’re gross,” Evie said.

I laughed, letting my eyes fall closed as the exhaustion of the day took hold of me.