Free The Falling of Love by Marisa Oldham

want to stay in Ocean View. Maybe he does not want to be a rock star, but the least he wants is to support himself writing and playing his music.
    “I know you want to, Ian, but…” She looks out the window and sighs.
    “I want you to come with me, Gracie.”
    “What?” she asks, looking at him surprised.
    “That’s the only way both of my biggest dreams will come true. It’s the only way I get everything I want.”
    “Ian—”
    “Why not, Gracie? Why couldn’t you come with me? Jaden’s grandpa’s house is huge. There’s like four extra rooms.”
    He can see that Grace is still shocked by his revelation and even he is astonished that he did not ask her sooner and that he only just now thought of it.
    “I—” Grace says, but is interrupted by Michelle’s loud entrance into the dining room.
    “James says it’s time for Ian to go home now,” Michelle says, rolling her eyes before she bites down into an apple. She thrusts her hand on her hip and stares at them. Amused by Michelle’s bossy tone, Ian lets out a laugh. Looking to Grace he can see she is not fazed by her. He knows she’s still too shocked about what he said.
    “I better go,” Ian says, pushing himself away from the mahogany table.
    Bending down, he kisses Grace’s flushed cheek. “I love you, babe. I’ll call you when I get home.”
    As he walks to the living room to make his exit, he hears her cry out to him.
    “Wait!”
    Turning, he sees her leap from the chair and rush to him. Her arms fold around him like a warm blanket.
    “I love you, too.” She smiles.
    There is something behind her smile. A doubt. He knows she is unsure of how to respond to him. Realizing he threw a lot at her at once, he pulls her into his arms in an attempt to comfort her.
    “I’ll call you later, okay?” Taking her chin into the tips of his fingers, he kisses the end of her nose, then her right cheek, then her left, and finally her forehead.

 
 
 
    Later that night Grace is lying on her bed, on the telephone with Ian. His suggestion that she move to California with him finds its way to the back of her mind.
    “So, I was walking home and those fuckers from math, what’s his face Chad and his asshole friend drove right into a puddle to soak me. I ran after the car and threw a trash can at them.”
    Grace giggles at Ian’s audacity.
    “Well, they stopped the car and Chad grabbed a crow bar and started chasing me. I tell you what, babe, if I had a crow bar, I would’ve beaten the hell out of him and his jockstrap friend.”
    Grace sighs. Ian should not have to endure harassment from the other kids at their school. She hates that people judge Ian solely based on his looks and the type of music he listens to. They judge him because he is dirty from his job. She knows who Ian Taylor is: a perfect gentleman. He may neglect his studies, but that is because he is an artist who is preoccupied with creating his music and because he works full time at Tony’s garage.
    As she thinks about him, she wonders why Ian has to work so hard. She is the same age as Ian, seventeen, and her hardest job is going to school, cooking, and cleaning for her brother and sister. It is a far cry from the labor-intensive job Ian holds down, all the while trying his best to pass his classes.
    “Ian?” she asks, timidly. “Why do your parents make you work?”
    “They don’t make me do anything, but if I want to eat, and have money to take my girl out, I need to work.”
    “What? If you want to eat?”
    “My family isn’t like yours, babe. It’s a long story.”
    “You know, we never really talk about your family, we only talk about mine. I don’t even know where you live. Why?”
    “There’s nothing to talk about and I don’t want you over here,” he says, ending the conversation about his family.
    “But—”
    “I don’t want to talk about them. All I want to talk about is you.”

 
 
 
    Grace waits for Ian at the oak tree in the senior quad. Where the