Before I Fall

I whip around at the sound of her name. One of the swim-team girls is half standing out of her chair, waving. I scan the restaurant, looking for Juliet, but there’s only one person at the door. She’s thin and pale and very blond, and she’s standing and shaking her shoulders to get the rain off her jacket. It takes me a second to recognize her, but as she turns a complete circle, looking for her friends, I do: the Cupid from math class—the angel who delivered my roses.

When she sees the rest of her teammates, she raises her hand briefly and gives a quick flutter of her fingers. Then she starts threading her way over to them, and as she moves past our table, I catch a glimpse of her neon-blue-and-orange swim jacket and it’s like the whole room goes still and only those five letters remain, lit up like signs.

SYKES.

Juliet’s little sister.

“Earth to Sammy.” Izzy is poking me with the butt end of her spoon. “Your ice cream’s getting melty.”

“Not hungry anymore.” I put my spoon down and push away from the table.

“Where are you going?” Mom reaches out and puts her hand on my wrist, but I barely feel it.

“Five minutes.” And then I’m walking over to the swim-team table, the whole time staring at the pale girl and her heart-shaped face. I can’t believe I didn’t see the resemblance before. They’ve got the same wide-spaced blue eyes, the same translucent skin and pale lips. Then again, until recently I’ve never really looked at Juliet, even though I must have seen her ten thousand times.

The swim-team girls have gotten their menus, and they’re laughing and swatting each other. I distinctly hear one of them say Rob’s name—probably saying how cute he looks in his lacrosse jersey (I should know; I used to say it all the time). I’ve never cared less about anything. When I’m about four feet away from the table one of them spots me and instantly the whole table goes silent. The girl who was talking about Rob goes the color of the menu she’s holding.

Little Sykes is squeezed in at the very end of the table. I walk directly up to her.

“Hey.” Now that I’m standing here I’m not exactly sure why I came over. The funniest part about it is that I’m the one who’s nervous. “What’s your name?”

“Um…did I do something?” Her voice is actually trembling. The rest of the girls aren’t helping. They’re looking at me like they expect at any second I’m going to lunge forward and swallow her head or something.

“No, no. I just…” I give her a small smile. Now that I see it, the resemblance between her and Juliet unnerves me. “You have an older sister, right?”

Her mouth tightens into a thin line, and her eyes go cloudy, like she’s putting up a wall. I don’t blame her. She probably thinks I’m going to pick on her for having a freak for a big sister. It must happen a lot.

But she tilts up her chin and stares at me straight in the eye. It kind of reminds me of something Izzy would do. Sam’s not going to school, and I’m not going either. “Yeah. Juliet Sykes.” Then she waits patiently, waits for me to start laughing.

Her eyes are so steady I look down. “Yeah. I, um, know Juliet.”

“You do?” She raises her eyebrows.

“Well, kind of.” All the girls are staring at me now. I have a feeling they’re having a hard time keeping their jaws from dropping open. “She’s—she’s kind of my lab partner.”

I figure this is a safe bet. Science is mandatory, and everybody gets assigned lab partners.

Juliet’s sister’s face relaxes a little bit. “Juliet’s really good at bio. I mean, she’s really good at school.” She lets herself smile. “I’m Marian.”

“Hey.” Marian is a good name for her: a pure name, somehow. My palms are sweating. I wipe them on my jeans. “I’m Sam.”

Marian drops her eyes and says shyly, “I know who you are.”

Two arms circle around my waist. Izzy has come up behind me. The point of her chin pokes me in the side.

“Ice cream’s almost gone,” she says. “You sure you don’t want any?”

Marian smiles at Izzy. “What’s your name?”

“Elizabeth,” Izzy says proudly, then sags a little. “But everybody calls me Izzy.”

“When I was little everybody called me Mary.” Marian makes a face. “But now everybody calls me Marian.”

“I don’t mind Izzy that much,” Izzy says, chewing on her lip like she’s just decided it.

Marian looks up at me. “You have a little sister too, huh?”

Suddenly I can’t stand to look at her. I can’t stand to think about what will happen later. I know: the stillness of the house, the gunshot.

And then…what? Will she be the first one down the stairs? Will that final image of her sister be the one that lasts, that wipes out whatever other memories she’s stored up over the years?

I go into a panic, trying to think what kind of memories Izzy has of me—will have of me.

“Come on, Izzy. Let’s let the girls eat.” My voice is trembling, but I don’t think anyone notices. I pat Izzy on the head and she gallops back toward our table.