Page 61 of Forbidden to Fall

The offhand thought sent a shot of something through my chest. Something like jealousy.

I shoved it aside, but it reminded me of James’s words. I envy you.

“Did you really mean what you said the other day—about envying me?” I asked.

He glanced at me, then returned his eyes to the road. He readjusted his grip on the steering wheel. “Yeah.”

It was as unfathomable to me now as it had been then. “Why?”

It was quiet.

“You’ve seen beautiful things,” I said. “Learned valuable skills. Gone new places and met new people. I’ve had the same job, the same car, the same everything since before you left. My life is like a never-ending rerun of the same episode—only, I get older. What’s there to envy about that?”

He was quiet as we passed the turn to Makeout Ridge, giving me a quick glimpse of the view over the town and the hills surrounding it. It was pretty spectacular any time of year, but never more so than now, with the kaleidoscope of colorful leaves on still-full trees. In a few weeks, it would look almost unrecognizable, a tangle of bare branches.

“You’re part of a family and community who loves and appreciates you, Sadie. You live in the best town in the world—and you belong in it.”

I stared at his profile in silence.

I didn’t know what I’d expected him to respond, but it certainly hadn’t been that.

When James had left Autumn Ridge, word had been that he’d backpacked around the country for a while. After a few months, word had faded, and nobody had seemed to know where he was. Or maybe they’d just stopped caring.

I’d assumed he’d left with a good riddance, happy to move on to bigger and better things.

That wasn’t what it sounded like.

He pulled the car to the side of the road, which was deserted. I wasn’t sure I’d ever even been on this stretch before.

He parked and turned off the car. “Ready?”

I took in a big breath. “Maybe you should be asking yourself that question.”

“Have a little faith in yourself, Sadie.” He opened his door.

We switched spots, and I glanced at the three pedals warily. I only had two feet. “Is there a reason you brought us up in the hills? Wouldn’t somewhere flat be better?”

“This road is pretty flat. Just enough variation to require some shifting. But first, you need to know how a manual transmission works.” He talked me through the clutch function first, then the different gears before even having me turn on the car.

Once the engine was running, he had me depress the clutch and put my hand on the gear shift. Resting his hand over mine, he guided me through the motions to get to the different gears.

I forced myself to listen to his words instead of fixating on the feel of his hand on mine, which seemed to be sending my heartrate, rather than the car, into different gears.

“How do I know when to switch?” I asked once it was back in neutral and his hand was gone.

He looked at me for a second. “There’s a guide I can teach you, but I think it’s more helpful to do it by heart. You’ve got to listen to the engine. You’ll learn to recognize when it needs to shift up or down based on the sound.”

“Or,” I said, “you could just give me the guide.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Not yet. You ready to try the first couple of gears? Don’t worry if you accidentally kill the engine or something. You’ll get it. Just go slow. As slow as you need.”

I took in a big breath and pressed in the clutch.

The next two minutes were like reaching the end of an abruptly ending rollercoaster. Over and over and over.

It was just…so much jolting. I couldn’t get the hang of letting off the clutch at the same rate as I accelerated.

“Is the closest chiropractor in Burlington?” I asked. “I’ll pay for your next adjustment.”