Filed to story: My Life with the Walter Boys Book (I & II) PDF Free
“You coming, Jackie?”
I climbed up after him, which was harder than it looked in my pencil skirt. When I reached the top, Cole offered me his hand and pulled me into the loft. The boys had clearly redone the space. I hadn’t known what to expect—maybe bales of hay—but instead there was a shabby blue rug on the floor, two couches, an old TV on a coffee table, and one of Katherine’s ever-present murals decorating the walls. A pile of board games was stacked in the corner, but judging by the layer of dust on top, the games hadn’t been touched in a long time.
“We used to hang out here a lot when we were younger,” Cole said as I rotated around the room, taking everything in. One of the beams holding up the ceiling was covered in Sharpie with different ticks, dates, and the boys’ names marking their different heights as they grew.
When he saw what I was looking at, he ran his finger over one with his name written next to it. “I remember I broke my leg that day,” he said, shaking his head. “Let’s add you.”
He grabbed a marker. It was hanging from the string that was nailed into the beam, waiting patiently to record a new height. I stepped up against the rough, wooden height chart, and Cole’s hands brushed the top of my head as he drew a line. He scribbled my name next to it when I stepped aside, and I realized that the little black mark wasn’t just a testament to how short I was compared to most of the Walters, but a memory.
“There,” Cole said, glancing over his handiwork after hanging the marker back up. “Now that you’ve been inducted permanently into the loft, let me show you why it’s so awesome.” He crossed over to the ledge and leaned over, his hand fishing in the air for a rope that was hanging from the ceiling.
“Cole, what are you doing?” I demanded as he hoisted himself up onto the banister.
“Watch this,” he said and grinned. With one big step, Cole swung through the air like some crazy jungle man, shouting at the top of his lungs before dropping into a huge pile of hay.
I rushed over to the edge, hands gripping the railing as I peered over to see if he was okay. At first, I couldn’t see him because the pile of hay had swallowed him up. But before I could freak out, Cole popped up, sending pieces of dried grass everywhere. “Your turn, Jackie,” he shouted up to me. “Just grab the rope.”
“Like hell,” I said, backing away. I swiveled to the right, moving in the direction of the ladder. “I’m coming down like a normal person so I don’t end up in the ER.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” I heard Cole say below, and before I could reach the ladder, I saw the top of it shake, then disappear, leaving me trapped in the loft. I stared at the empty gap in the banister for a few seconds before I realized the ladder was gone. The sight was strange, like a missing tooth in someone’s smile.
“It’s not funny, Cole,” I finally said, trying to stay calm as I peered down at him. “Please put the ladder back.”
“Nope.” The ladder was still in his hands, but he was easing it down onto its side, far out of my reach.
“If you actually think I’m going to jump out of this loft, then you’re crazy,” I informed him, in my best I-mean-business tone. It was a ludicrous idea.
“Come on, Jackie,” he responded with a whiny-please voice. “It’s not that far of a fall and I promise it’s safe. We used to do it all the time as kids.”
But I was having none of that. “If you don’t put the ladder back up right now—“
“What’s the worst that can happen?” he asked, cutting me off. His arms were crossed over his chest as he craned his neck to look up at me.
“I could break my leg,” I snapped, remembering what he’d told me a couple of minutes ago as we studied the height chart.
“Jackie,” he groaned, his head falling back in annoyance. He rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “I promise that’s not how I broke mine.”
“I’m sorry, Cole,” I told him, firmly planting my hands on my hips. “But I’m not the type of person who takes unnecessary risks.”
“Unnecessary risks? You sound like a stuffy businessman. It’s not like you’re signing a multimillion-dollar contract or something. You’re just doing a bit of rope swinging. It’s supposed to be fun.”
“Like I said before, I don’t see the fun in breaking my leg.”
“Are you always this stubborn?” Cole asked, muttering more to himself than me. Still shaking his head, he made a point of sitting down, his long legs folding into a cross-legged position. “It doesn’t matter. I can hang around all day.”
“I thought the point of this tour was to cheer me up,” I said, “not to torture me.”
There was a pause, and Cole sighed. “I’m trying, but you’re making this very difficult,” he said, as if I was the one who was being ridiculous. “Seriously, Jackie, just live a little.”
Hearing this, I drew in a breath.
I had planned to wait him out, sitting up there on the shabby blue rug until my legs went numb. But then he said that one simple word—live. Looking back on it, I’m sure Cole didn’t mean much by it; he just wanted me to jump. It got to me, though, hanging in the air like cigarette smoke, thick and unwanted, until I almost choked. Why was I still here breathing when my family was gone, their lives cut short? Would they feel as guilty as me, I thought, if it had been the other way around?
A sudden surge of anger throbbed through my body, and I yanked the blue ribbon that was holding back my bangs out of my hair. Using it like a ponytail holder, I tied my locks back before stepping up to the edge of the loft. It took me three tries to reach the rope, my stomach pressed into the railing as I leaned out into the open air, fingers stretching. When I finally had the rope in my hand, I carefully swung my legs over the side and took a deep breath.
“You got this, New York,” Cole was saying now, but I couldn’t see him because my eyes were closed tight.
This was stupid, so unbelievably stupid, and yet, I did it anyway. With one huge push, I kicked away from the banister and sliced through the air with a whoosh.
The momentum that pulled me back and forth managed to drag a string of curse words out of my mouth, and I rounded it all off with a massive, “Walter, I officially hate you!” Finally, the swinging rope slowed, but not before I lost my grip. The ground rushed up around me, and I plunged into a sea of hay.
“See?” Cole said, wading through the hay toward me as I stood up. “That wasn’t so bad.” He was clearly pleased with himself, but my stomach was still up in my throat and the scratchy, dry grass was clinging to me in a million different places. There was still some anger running through my veins, and I slammed my palms into Cole’s chest, shoving him away from me.
At least, I tried to. He barely budged. It must have been the adrenaline that made me do it.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” I said, my tongue sharp, trying to make up for the fact that I probably wasn’t too intimidating after the failed push. “Not ever.”
Startled by my outburst, Cole stared at me momentarily, his mouth half open. I narrowed my eyes and glared at him with as much menace as I could muster, fully expecting an apology, but then he was laughing and it wasn’t just a tiny chuckle, more of a full-bellied, hands-on-your-knees kind of laugh.
“Quit it!” I said, when he didn’t stop.
“Oh God,” he gasped, wiping away a few stray tears. “That was priceless.”
“I don’t find anything about this funny.”
“Yeah, because you couldn’t see your face. You were all ‘Grrr’ and it was adorable.”
I choked on the words that were poised on my tongue in response.
Adorable.
Cole Walter had just called me adorable.
“Hold up,” he said, stepping forward and reaching toward me. I reared back, but Cole kept coming, his hand reaching toward my hair. When he pulled away, there was a piece of hay between his fingers. “Got it,” he whispered.
We were so close now that I could see the tiny scar on his forehead, a small L-shaped nick just above his left eyebrow. As he stared down at me, his eyes glossy with an intense, unreadable expression, it was nice to focus on that one imperfection. Knowing that he wasn’t completely flawless made holding his gaze a little easier.