The Fear of Falling

Chapter One

Junior year; it was supposed to be a fresh start after a shitty college experience. My friend, the only person I could partially get along with on campus, said she'd be my new roommate.

Despite our obvious differences, there was nothing that could go wrong. It wasn't like the previous year when my roommate and I had to share a room and simultaneously almost killed each other.

No. It was supposed to be better, cordial even. Because we were both psychology majors, we were supposed to understand each other.

But by moving day, I realized that maybe I could never truly understand anyone. Which is not a great outlook for a future psychiatrist.

Bethany requested a room change and I was left standing in the middle of our new half furnished apartment with a sad cardboard box in my hands.

There was no notice or phone call.

I was on my own, again.

I sighed and placed the box in the center of the living room. Since Bethany decided not to show up, every little noise echoed back to me. The share of furniture she promised to bring, like a couch, was nonexistent.

What did I have? A lamp and a side table. You can't sit on a lamp or a side table.

I dropped to the floor and thought about the growing pile of my woes.

I laid down, not caring how I usually do about the dirt getting in my hair, what did it matter if no one would see me?

The three-bedroom apartment was painfully empty; because not even strangers wanted to be stuck with me.

I considered calling my mother but she would try to psychoanalyze the situation. Best-case scenario, she would pull my dad into the mix; and then I would be 'shrinked' on both sides.

Instead, I shut my eyes and pretended that I no longer existed. I'm well adjusted, I know.

Before I could find my innermost chakra, and start a fistfight with it, there was banging on the front door. The noise echoed throughout the empty apartment and my heartbeat accelerated.

First day back on campus and I'm already being robbed.

Perfect.

Then, I considered the possibility that Bethany had changed her mind.

I jumped to my feet, ignoring the dizzy feeling that followed, and raced to the door. Before I could get to the entryway, the scratched oak door swung open. By the state of it, it was safe to assume that the previous residents were animal lovers.

As soon as the door hit the wall, it became obvious that Bethany did not, in fact, change her mind.

Instead, I was standing face-to-face with the prettiest man I'd ever seen. A loose black t-shirt hung off his broad shoulders and the not-so-subtle waves in his hair screamed for my attention; I obliged.

What was I supposed to do, look away?

Not even his dark tattoo sleeves could deter me.

Then, his eyes met mine and I became abundantly aware of my creepiness.

Fuck. Look away.

He groaned, "Jesus, are you just gonna stare or lend me a hand?"

My eyebrows hit the ceiling, the trance broken, "Who are you?" For the first time, I noticed that the box in his hands was tearing at the bottom. All of its contents were about to fall on the floor; my floor.