Free To Fall (The To Fall Trilogy Book 1) by Donna AnnMarie Smith Page A

relative?”
    The girls agreed.
    “By the way,” Mel announced, “you two are coming to another party next week.”
    This time, Beth cursed.
    I had Beth drop me off at the curb. Since Mel was still three sheets to Captain Morgan, Beth would take her home and spend the night. When I stepped inside my house, everyone was huddled on the sofa, watching a movie.
    Dad burst out into laughter, and it took me much too long to realize that I was the comedic relief. “You should have brought a bathing suit, Abby.”
    I peeled the damp shirt from my stomach. “Ha, ha. I fell in.” Okay, yes, kind of a lie.
    He composed himself but poorly. “Are you okay?”
    “Just a bruised ego from mortifying embarrassment. I’m gonna get in the shower and go to bed.”
    Everyone muttered goodnight.
    As I washed the chlorine off me, thoughts bounced through my head. How did I know Xander existed? Who was he? Did he stay at the party and get another girl’s number? A girl that didn’t look like a drowned rat? For a brief moment, I considered not washing the hand that touched his lips, and then threw it under the hot water.
    During the night, I tossed, turned, and had my nightmare once. I tried reading a book for a while, but it didn’t help. Xander invaded my thoughts, but it was a welcome invasion. How could I dream of a man my entire life and he appeared looking exactly like I had dreamed him? It just wasn’t possible. This went way beyond déjà vu. Maybe one of my heart attacks gave me psychic powers. Yeah, right.
    Popping my earbuds in, I drifted off.
    Monday morning, Dad was at work, Mom took the girls to their classes, and Margaret stepped out to the grocery store. Bozo lay on the cool tile by the back door with his puppy dog eyes gazing out. He looked like I felt: cooped up and bored. His eyes wore me down, and I decided to take Bozo for a walk. Even though I didn’t run, I did own a running outfit. After throwing my hair up into a ponytail, I couldn’t resist a touch of lip-gloss to keep the dry, hot air from my lips.
    Normally, I had my cell phone on me, but Mom went to get me a new one today since mine met a watery death. I grabbed my emergency pill bottle and stuck it in my front pocket. The sun burned my skin as the temperature was already in the high nineties. “Sorry, Bozo, this is gonna be a short one today.”
    He wagged his tail at me and let his tongue hang out the side of his mouth.
    The morning sun gleamed off windows and cars, blinding me. I pulled the brim of my hat down and pushed my sunglasses up. Down the street, lawn mowers and leaf blowers sparked to life, manicuring neighbors’ lawns. I couldn’t imagine having a job outside in the summer. Within minutes, my skin was tacky, my already tight clothes adhered to me, and Bozo’s thick hairs stuck to my legs as his tail rubbed up against them.
    Bozo pulled too hard on his leash. I had to keep yanking him back and disciplining him as though he understood human. My parents took him running, because speed was the one way to keep him from noticing the neighborhood. When we reached the park, Bozo spotted a few neighborhood kids and dragged me; I tugged his leash the opposite way. There was a canal behind the subdivision, which would be quieter. We strolled along the rocky trail that was usually occupied by runners and bikers. I kept us clear of the holes dug from burrowing animals and away from thick brush that a snake could hide in.
    The stagnant brown canal water was littered with wilted leaves from the sparse desert trees and bushes. Surrounding our community were fields and farms that used the water for irrigation. Where I lived was a strange mixture of the city, suburbs, rural farms, and desert. Travel one mile in any direction and you were bound to be in a different division. A half a mile from my house was a dairy farm; the faint odor of manure filled the air as we neared it. Hot manure smell. Gross.
    Bozo earned his name today. He sniffed and picked up