Their Freefall At Last by Julie Olivia

28

Ruby

“He sent flowers.”

“Gross.” Quinn snatches the note off the side of the vase, skims the words with a nasty sneer, then tosses it on the table. “Throw them out.”

Lorelei looks at the bouquet in my hand. Her exhale is instantly tied to the heart monitor’s increase.

“It’s fine,” she mumbles.

It’s almost all she says nowadays after the accident.

Almost one month ago, The Grizzly’s train wheel disconnected from the track with Lorelei still in the seat, causing her hip to collide with the car’s interior. Thankfully, she’s alive. Unthankfully, she’s been stuck in hospital limbo. Out one day, back in the next week due to pain, and finally, she got surgery on her hip. Now, all we do is wait to see if it’s better, I suppose.

We’re still not sure why it happened. The Grizzly passed all appropriate inspections over the years. But a bouquet of flowers from the ride’s manufacturer doesn’t exactly make the situation better.

I look at the label. Wishing you all the best. Signed, Emory Dawson.

I cringe. My hero in the roller coaster industry is now nothing better than a slur among my friend group.

Taking the bouquet from me, Bennett gives a little smile. I don’t resist smiling back.

We haven’t had time to talk since the accident. I didn’t feel comfortable hashing it out as our friend languishes in a hospital bed. But I’ll take every small smile he throws my way.

After this accident, I realized that all days were good days with Bennett. That it doesn’t matter when we discuss it because the discussion will be the same.

I think I want to try this with you.

I don’t want to marry anyone else but you.

“Okay, Mr. Roller Coaster got you stupid flowers,” Quinn says with an eye roll toward Emory Dawson’s note. “But I got you the real present.”

Lorelei’s eyebrows rise while Quinn digs into her tote bag. She pulls out a T-shirt and hands it to Lorelei, who unfolds it.

She blinks at the design. Once. Twice. Then, slowly, she lets out a weak laugh that quickly grows louder and happier until she finally turns the shirt around to us. I’ve seen this shirt before in The Grizzly’s gift shop, and I wish it didn’t have me clamping my hand over my mouth to hold in my own bubbling laughter.

Stamped over an illustration of a roller coaster track are the words I SURVIVED THE GRIZZLY.

“That’s horrible,” I breathe.

But Lorelei is still cackling, and Theo is in the corner, trying to mask the snorting laughter leaving her mouth.

“Fred took these out of inventory after your accident,” Quinn says. “But I figured you deserved one.”

“It’s terrible,” Lorelei says through wet laughs. “But amazing.”

After a second, she hugs the shirt closer to her chest and sighs.

It’s funny how life happens, how even the special things you love still hurt you. I don’t think Lorelei will ever forget the accident, but she will forgive it. Because she’s kind like that.

I laugh a little because it seems so ridiculous now.

All of this.

My indecision with Bennett is such a ridiculous risk when things like this happen. Accidents that are close to ending lives.

My parents are who they are. They loved and lost, but weren’t they happy they’d tried it at all? Nothing is perfect. We aren’t perfect. But I’ve never seen my mom joke with my dad like I do with Bennett.

I’ve practiced so many words so many times. And once I got to the point where I could say them without cringing at myself in the mirror, I knew it was time.

Bennett, you’re my favorite person.

Bennett, I’d only marry you.

Bennett, your butt is cute.

I’ll start with that one.

Bennett’s phone buzzes.

Maybe the time is now.

“Food’s here,” he says. “I’ll go grab it.”

“I’ll come with you,” I offer, shooting to my feet.

Now is the time.

This is it.

How romantic will this be? Telling Bennett that I love him in a hospital. How perfect. It’s a story we can tell our kids one day, assuming we have them. Maybe we won’t. Maybe life will be wonderful with just us. If I had my best friend, I don’t think I’d want anyone else.

Maybe it’s selfish. Or maybe I just love him.

Love.

I’ve never thought it in those exact words. I’ve considered that I want him. That I need him. That he’s my soul mate. But the word love seems so small compared to what we are. But of course I love him.

It’s Bennett.

We walk past the nurses’ station, saying hi to the same two women we’ve seen for the past month, and my hand twitches to reach out for his, but I hold back. I’ll wait until after we talk. Just a bit farther, when I can catch my breath.

We turn the corner to a small hall, where it echoes with each step we take. We walk together, left and then right, and when he notices, he purposefully changes up his step order with a grin. I mirror it, making us both laugh.

It’s time. This is it.

I spout out, “We should talk,” at the same time he says, “I gotta tell you something.”

“Oh, you go,” I say when he says, “You first.”

He smiles. I hold my palm out.

I glide my eyes over his sleeve of tattoos. Every single one dedicated to me in some way. A parrot, my beloved Moose, our anchor, everything that is just us. Because he’s mine. He always has been, and I’ve just never been brave enough to claim him as my own. I’ve always been quiet and said nothing. But no more. No more unsaid thoughts.

Then, I hear a voice behind us say, “Hello?”

I twist to see a woman. She’s gorgeous. Bright red hair. An even brighter white smile. She’s holding bags that smell like teriyaki chicken and steamed rice.

She must be our food delivery driver.

“Sorry,” I apologize even though I’m not sure why I say that.

But then she slides an arm through the crook of Bennett’s bicep, right where I was just looking and absorbing every ounce of mine in my brain that no longer seems so mine-like.

But, wait, why is the delivery driver touching Bennett?

MyBennett.

The energy in the hallway shifts on the spot, like the opposite end of a magnet, shoving me away from my best friend.

Bennett takes the crinkling grocery bags from her.

“Ruby,” he starts slowly, making me flick my eyes up to his, “I want you to meet someone.”

And my heart plummets, just absolutely barrels into my stomach like a boulder. No, like a lot of boulders. A whole landslide into my gut.

“Hi.” The woman’s hand juts out before Bennett’s mouth can open to explain. It doesn’t matter though. She says all that needs to be said. “I’m Jolene. I’m his girlfriend.”

And I think I get tunnel vision. Everything around me starts to fade to nothing, the edges of my vision blurring.

I shake her hand without thinking, without considering any other option, like maybe running away or melting into the floor or simply dying right on the spot.

Her handshake is hard and fast and confident. So unlike mine, which is weak and slow and barely catching a grip.

Dazed, I watch my best friend’s arm slide around her waist and land down to her lower back.

His favorite spot.

“You’re the only redhead for me,” pings through my brain.

The lie. My gut wants to counter with he tells lies like my dad, but I know that’s not true. Bennett’s not like that.

Jolene smiles at me, and finally, I can process her more. Her curves I don’t have. Her perfect fire-engine-red hair that isn’t like the flat ginger mess I don’t bother to style. Her little dimples, like thumbprints into her cheeks, which are full and not hollow like mine.

God, I didn’t stand a chance.

So, I smile and nod and say nothing.

Because that’s all I’m good at.

Being quiet once more.