The Trouble with Falling

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

“Sophie,” Caleb repeats, recognition appearing in his eyes as he nods. “Sophie Henley. Younger sister of the bride and fan of craft store floors.” He holds his hand out towards me as if I might possibly be interested in shaking it.

I’m not. I turn to Aiden. “You have terrible taste in best friends.”

Aiden laughs. “You guys have met already?”

“Inside Marty’s Arts & Crafts earlier. He was practising being a creep.”

“I was practising being friendly,” Caleb corrects. “And hoping to share the joy of true colouring in.”

“You kept following me when I tried to leave. You were being a complete stalker.”

“Because you made it so easy!” He laughs, then manages to stop when my glare intensifies. “I’m sorry. Really. I was pushing your buttons ’cause it was fun and I thought I’d never see you again, and you were being rude ’cause you thought you’d never see me again, so … shall we start over?”

“Wrong. I was being rude because you asked for it.”

“Okay then,” Aiden says loudly, slinging an arm around my shoulder and pulling me into a sideways hug. “Well, it’s great that you two have already met each other, and we’ll all be laughing about this one day when you’re really good friends.”

“I doubt it.”

“And hey,” he adds, “you guys have a common interest. You’re both artists.”

“Is that so? What do you draw, Caleb? Random squiggles?”

“Yes. And then I colour them in. By hand.” That infuriating grin stretches across his face once more.

“No, he does what you do,” Aiden says, clearly determined for us to make some kind of connection.

“Well, not exactly,” Caleb says. “I don’t sit on shop floors while doing my art.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the floor.”

“Okay, I give up,” Aiden says as his arm slides away from me. “I’ve done the introductions. You guys are on your own now. Play nicely.”

He turns and leaves the kitchen. I consider following him out, but I came in here to switch the oven on, so I should at least do that. I walk around Caleb and turn the dial on the oven to the correct temperature.

“Cute tattoo,” he says.

I cover my left hand, where an outline of a small star is tattooed to the base of my thumb. I sense he’s about to say something else about the star, but I’m saved from further interaction with him when Dad walks in.

“Sophie, my girl, well done on reaching the finish line.” He rubs my arm and presses a brief kiss to the top of my head, and that’s the end of his reaction to me having completed twelve years of schooling today. A reaction I appreciate far more than Sarah’s or Mom’s.

“Thanks, Dad,” I murmur.

“So, Caleb,” Dad says as he opens a cupboard and starts removing glasses. “What exactly is it that you do? From what Aiden’s said, I gather it’s something that involves a lot of travelling?”

“Oh, no, the travelling doesn’t actually have anything to do with my work,” Caleb says. “I just travel a lot because my work is flexible and travelling is fun. I do freelance graphic design work, mostly remote. Logos, corporate branding, website graphics, that sort of thing.”

I open the oven door and move the tray to the middle level, shaking my head as I listen to Caleb and Dad. How did Aiden think that Caleb and I could possibly connect over our art when my fantasy work has absolutely nothing in common with dull, dry corporate brands? That stuff shouldn’t even be classified as art. And how dare Caleb pretend he’s so anti-digital art when he no doubt creates every single logo on a computer?

“And you’re a teacher, right?” Caleb says to Dad.

“Yep. Physical science.” Dad arranges the glasses on a tray while I remove the giant foil-covered lasagne dish from the fridge. “Which unfortunately means I’ll be doing exam marking and admin until the day before the wedding.”

“Ah, well, at least it’s a noble profession. Oh, is this the right jug?” Caleb asks. “I was told about a glass jug, but I found several in the same cupboard. This one was the biggest.”

Dad scratches his crazy science teacher hair. “To be honest, I have no idea. But I’m sure that jug will do just fine.”

“That jug is fine,” I mutter, opening the fridge again and looking for juice options.

“What does Mrs H. do?” Caleb enquires.

“She runs a research lab at a biotech company.”

“So you bond over your mutual love of science,” Caleb says with a laugh.

Dad joins in. “Yes. Anyway, it’s been a busy year for her, but she’s on leave from today so she can help the girls with all the last minute stuff.” I close the fridge door and see him waving towards Sarah’s pin board stuck to the wall beside the fridge.

“Oh, is that the magic pin board I’ve heard so much about?” Caleb asks.

The ‘magic pin board’ Aiden’s always making fun of is divided into six sections for the six months leading up to the wedding. To-do notes and reminders are pinned under every month. If something wasn’t done within a particular month, Sarah moved it to the next month. Since we’ve only got a week left to go, there isn’t anywhere else to move the things that haven’t yet been done. Everything has to happen within the next week.

“Hey, don’t you dare knock the magic pin board,” Sarah says as she hurries into the kitchen. “It’s been a great help in keeping me organized with all the wedding admin.”

“Yeah, you look so organized right now,” I say with a smirk as she twists around, her eyes darting about the kitchen.

“Darn it, I can’t remember why I—oh yes. Mom wanted me to get the savoury crackers and that biltong cream cheese dip she made this morning.”

“Over there.” I point to the box of crackers beside the toaster.

“Great, thanks.”

Sarah gets the starter snacks together, Dad and Caleb continue to get chummy while gathering glasses and drinks, and I stare at the oven until it’s hot enough to put the lasagne in. Once that’s done, I paste my smile back on and join the rest of my family outside.

“You ladies are doing wedding stuff all week, right?” Aiden says as I drop into a chair beside Julia and tuck one leg beneath me.

“Well, duh,” Julia says. “Remember the week before our wedding? There were a ton of things to get done.”

“Cool, so we can do some touristy things then. Since, you know, we have a real tourist with us now.” He gestures to Caleb.

“Are you planning to visit a game reserve?” Mom asks him.

“Yes, after the wedding,” Caleb tells her. “I’m spending a few days at the, uh …” He laughs. “The one I can’t pronounce.”

“Hluhluwe?” Sarah asks with a smile.

“That’s the one.”

“On your own?” Julia asks.

“Yeah, unless you guys want to join me.”

“Sure, we’ll see what we can organise,” Julia says, looking at Josh. “We’re only flying back to London after Christmas.”

“You’ll do a walking tour around Durban, right?” Mom says, obviously concerned that Caleb get his fill of history and culture while he’s here. “And make sure you eat a bunny chow while you’re at it.”

Caleb leans forward, interest sparking in his eyes. “Bunny chow?”

“Wait and see, man,” Aiden says. “Just wait and see.”

“Oh, and the bungee swing thing,” Josh adds. “At Moses Mabhida Stadium. Wasn’t that on your list?”

“Oh yeah. Free falling into a stadium bowl? Sign me up.”

Since everyone’s busy discussing Caleb’s sightseeing list, I slip my phone from my pocket and check whether Lex has replied. I know I said I had to go, but still. I’m always hoping for a message from him. Other than the message he must have sent moments after I left my room—Cool, I’ll hunt down some pompoms in the meantime—I find no new Artster notifications. I do see that Mr A. T. Dawson has sent another email, this time asking when I can fit him into my schedule and when I’ll be able to send him an invoice for the deposit I require before starting a project. He must have deemed my prices acceptable. Awesome. Every new client takes me one tiny step closer to funding my dream.

“What about you, Sophie?”

“Hmm?” I look up at the sound of my name.

“What’s your favourite thing about Christmas?” Caleb asks, giving me an expectant smile. I get the feeling everyone else has already answered this and I missed it.

“Candy canes,” I say, giving him the first—and briefest—answer that comes to mind. It isn’t true, but this is the guy whose first words to me were an insult, and I don’t feel like giving him a real answer. I turn to Julia and start asking how her photography business is going.

She gives me a look that says, Come on, be nice.

My responding expression of innocence says, I have no idea what you’re talking about.

“Really?” she says in a low voice as everyone continues chatting around us. “You’re gonna pretend like you weren’t just totally rude to our newest guest?”

I blink. “Wait, you’re assuming candy canes aren’t my favourite thing about Christmas?”

She rolls her eyes. “You know I love you, but this heavy sarcasm with a side of deadpan thing you’ve got going on isn’t the most pleasant version of you.”

I give her a sweet smile. “Just like this whole mom thing you’ve got going on isn’t the most pleasant version of you.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, you did not just compare me to a mom.”

I poke her in the side. “I think I did.”

She wraps one arm around my shoulders and tugs me against her, making sure I’m well and truly trapped before tickling me. A yelp of laughter escapes me as I try to fight her off. “There we go,” she says loudly. “Those are the squeals of delight I was looking for when I first walked back into this—Ah!” Her words are lost in laughter as I get my arms unpinned and retaliate by tickling her back.

“Really, girls?” Mom says above our noise.

We let each other go. I sit back, breathing heavily and trying not to smile. “So the photography’s going well then?”

“Yeah, totally.” She crosses one leg neatly over the other. “Business is booming.”

Making it through the rest of the evening isn’t nearly as difficult as I’d anticipated. Probably because I’m avoiding conversation with Caleb, but also because I’m happy to have Julia around again—the only member of my family I won’t snap at for calling me out on my supposed ‘heavy sarcasm with a side of deadpan.’ I find myself getting caught up in the laughter and chatter, and there are chunks of time in which I don’t even think about what happened last Christmas.

We end the evening slumped sleepily in the chairs outside, mosquitoes and other bugs buzzing around the lights, and the evening breeze doing its best to provide us with some relief from the heat. Not that it helps much when I’m sandwiched in between Julia and Sarah on the same couch. I think our arms are sticking together.

Mom places a bowl of chocolate covered nuts on the table, pushes Scrunch off her chair, and sits with a sigh. “I’m sure there was a slab of chocolate too, but I can’t find it.”

“The monkeys probably stole it,” Sarah says.

Caleb, Jules and Josh start laughing, but Sarah says, “I’m not joking. Monkeys come in through the kitchen windows all the time. It’s a real problem.”

“I told you we need to move the fruit away from the window and cover it,” Dad says to Mom.

“That doesn’t stop them,” Mom tells him. “If the windows are open, they’ll climb inside, kick stuff off the counter, and take whatever food they can find.”

“Damn monkeys,” I mutter, remembering the time they helped themselves to the piece of cake I brought home from the cafe next to the craft store.

“Sophie,” Mom scolds as my language triggers her swear word detector.

“Sorry.”

“Okay, well as much as I want to stay up for the rest of the night,” Mom says around a yawn, “I can’t keep my eyes open. You kids can lock up when you go to bed.”

“Agreed,” Dad says. “Night, everyone.” He stands and follows her into the house.

Caleb chuckles and reaches for the bowl on the table. “I love being twenty-five and getting called a kid.”

“We’ll probably always be ‘kids’ to our parents,” Aiden says, “no matter how grown-up we feel.”

Caleb throws a chocolate covered nut at Aiden. “I never said I feel grown-up.”

Aiden scrambles to catch the nut, but misses. “Dude, you play around with shapes on a computer for a living. You’ll probably never grow up.”

“You’re just jealous,” Caleb says, managing to simultaneously speak, grin, and crunch on a handful of nuts.

“I am,” Aiden says with a sigh. “The university is sucking the life out of my soul these days.”

“Come travel the world with me. You can bring Sarah with if she promises not to behave.”

“So generous of you,” Sarah says.

Julia, who’s been flicking through photos on her phone and showing them to me—urban scenes, English countryside, the occasional wedding—laughs and sticks another one under my nose. “Look at this cat. Fattest thing I’ve ever seen, but it was determined to get up that wall because there was a bird sitting on top of it.”

I chuckle at the black and white photo where Julia’s caught the moment in which the world’s roundest cat is reaching upward across a graffiti covered brick wall for a bird that was no doubt mocking the cat for its efforts.

Julia scrolls quickly through more photos, this time of people gathered in a pub. Scenes washed in orange-brown tones and warm light. “What’s Lacey doing while you’re here?” she asks, directing her question towards Caleb.

“Lacey? You know Lacey and I broke up like four months ago, right?”

“Oh.” Julia pauses in her picture-scrolling and lowers her phone. “Who was the girl you were in Australia with?”

“Janine.

“Ah. I thought you were with Janine before Lacey.”

“That was Jenny,” Caleb says. “I can understand your confusion.”

“So who’s waiting for you back home?” Julia asks.

“Currently? Nobody.”

Quite the serial dater, I think to myself, but fortunately I’m too sleepy to say the words out loud.

“Hey, remember this one,” Julia says to me, distracted already by another photo. “It must be from, like, ten Christmases ago.”

The photo shows Sarah, Julia and I clinging to Dad’s body while trying to reach a large gift box he’s holding over his head.

“Hmm. It’s not unlike the cat photo,” I say after examining it.

Julia dissolves into giggles. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She passes her phone around so everyone can take a look.

“Oh, you used to be blonde, Sophie,” Caleb says, examining the photo.

“Mm hmm.” I push my fingers through my dark hair. I redid the roots last week when I was supposed to be studying Othello for my English Lit final.

“Like an angel,” Julia says, leaning her head on my shoulder.

I groan. “Remember how they always used to make me play the angel for nativity plays at pre-school? All the girls wanted to be Mary, but I was always stuck as an angel.”

“A beautiful angel,” Julia murmurs sleepily.

“So you didn’t like being blonde?” Caleb asks.

“What do you think?” I mean, duh. Obviously not. That’s why I changed the colour.

“Soph,” Julia murmurs. “You don’t have to be so hostile.”

I close my eyes and rest my head against hers. “It’s my default setting.”

“It wasn’t always.”

I don’t bother answering her, and she’s so sleepy she probably doesn’t notice.

My eyes slide closed. Soft chatter continues around me, lulling me towards sleep.

“I’m going to bed,” Sarah announces, startling me awake as she pushes herself up from the couch. “I have to pick up my dress in the morning, and then … I don’t know. A hundred other things I can’t remember right now.”

“I’m sure it’s all on the magic pin board,” Aiden says, followed by “Ow!” when Sarah punches his arm.

“Stop making fun of my organizational system, otherwise I’ll make you do everything left on the list.”

“I love the magic pin board,” Aiden says quickly. “The magic pin board is amazing.”

“It is,” Sarah says.

“Um, yeah, it is late,” I say as I stifle a yawn. Especially considering my day began at three this morning when I got up to do my final cramming for Art History.

I help the others carry all the cushions inside—in case it rains during the night—which means we’re all breaking out in a sweat by the time we’re done and I’m locking the door. I wipe my hand across my brow as I wait for everyone to trail out of the lounge so I can turn the lights off and the house alarm on. Hopefully no one hogs the bathroom for too long. I don’t care how late it is, I’m not getting into bed without drenching myself in cold water first.

Up in the attic, I dig around in my pyjama drawer until I find a lightweight dressing gown. It’s too hot to comfortably add any additional layer over my pyjamas, but with extra guys now occupying the house, I’m not about to be caught in just a pair of boxers and a tank top. The moment the bathroom’s free, I take my chance. I force myself to stand beneath the shockingly cold stream of water without turning on the hot tap, knowing I’ll be grateful for it the moment I step out of the shower. After dressing quickly, I exit the bathroom and find—the only person I’m not interested in talking to. Obviously.

Caleb gives me a smile.

I sigh and head past him.

“You know, this usually works for people.” I turn at the foot of the stairs and look back to find him gesturing to his face.

“What, your irresistible charm?” He can’t be referring to his good looks. Nobody’s actually that arrogant, are they?

“No, the smile.” His grin stretches even wider. “Doesn’t it make you want to smile back?”

My expression remains impassive. “Nope.”

“Interesting. Most people, when greeted with a smile, respond by smiling back.”

I respond by raising an eyebrow.

He sighs. “I find this mildly discouraging—

“Good.”

“—but I will not be deterred.”

“Ugh. Please be deterred.”

“I’ll get a smile out of you yet, Sophie Henley.”

“Wonderful,” I reply, my deadpan expression still firmly in place as I turn and climb the stairs.

Back in my room, I grab my phone and check for messages while climbing into bed. Nothing from Lex. I try to pretend it doesn’t leave me feeling disappointed.