4. caleb
4
caleb
I drummed my fingers along my thighs while waiting for Taylor to come down the staircase. This was supposed to be a big moment for girls. Slow-motion entrance, dramatic dress reveal, and parents crying in the corner. Yada yada yada. I wasn’t in the mood.
That night, my band— The Airheads —was playing at our senior prom. As the lead singer and guitarist, I couldn’t be late. So, if Taylor could get her sparkly behind down those steps and out the door sometime this year, that’d be great.
I stood at the bottom of the staircase with her mom and dad, who were doing the whole ooooh-ing and aaah-ing routine like they were watching royalty glide down the stairs. Meanwhile, Taylor took each step like she was modeling for a bridal magazine.
If it had been up to me, I wouldn’t have asked her to the prom at all. But my dad had other plans. According to him, no son of his was showing up to prom without a date. Apparently, showing up stag would have been a disgrace to our name or masculinity or whatever crap he preached.
I didn’t like labels. “Prom date” felt way too official for me. Too committed. But, like with most things in my life, when my dad insisted, I fell in line.
If I didn’t check every one of his heteronormative boxes, he’d probably have disowned me before the tassel on my cap even flipped. Graduate, go to college, marry a woman, pop out a few kids, and inherit the company. The Great Plan. I was absolutely thrilled.
“You look beautiful,” I said to Taylor as she reached the bottom step. She did look pretty great and it felt like the right thing to say in the moment. I pressed a kiss to her cheek and ushered her toward my black Corvette. Another gift from dear ol’ dad. I figured it was his way of celebrating the fact that I was, in his eyes, sticking to that ‘great plan’. He caught me hooking up with Jessica Rodman in the backyard jacuzzi once, and instead of a lecture, he bought me a Corvette. Throwing money at me was kind of his love language.
Whatever. I’d take it. I liked girls. I liked presents. Win-win.
Taylor and I were actually good friends, so the drive to prom was easy. We joked about the setlist, and I managed to forget, for a minute, what had been gnawing at the back of my mind all week.
Nathaniel Philips.
The ghost of a best friend. Just five months ago, we’d been inseparable. Honestly, moving to this city had sucked. I’d liked my old school, and transferring for the last year of high school was the last thing I’d wanted to do. But then I saw Nathaniel scribbling away in his notebook, that day in the cafeteria. It was as though in that very moment, I knew moving wasn’t going to be so bad. I’d loved his dorky Clark Kent glasses, the way his hair always looked like he’d just run a hand through it. The more time I spent with him, the more I enjoyed pulling him out of his own head, helping him loosen up. It was fun. He was fun.
Just being around him had felt like a breath of fresh air. The way he listened to my incessant rambling about bands or laughed at the dumb movies I made him watch made me feel on top of the world. But more than that, he had felt like the last piece of a puzzle that I didn’t know had gone missing. For some reason, being around him had felt… easy. Like I didn’t have to try or think. He felt like my left arm. I couldn’t explain it—I just needed him around. And I liked being around him. It had been as simple as that.
Then Sarah Lockwood happened.
I shouldn’t have said yes to them coming over for my birthday. It was supposed to be just him and I and I would’ve been perfectly happy with that. But, the moment their lips locked, everything changed. I knew it would. It was the exact reason I never went out with any girls. I didn’t want anything or anyone to come between us.
Not only that but I knew her type. She might’ve been charming and beautiful, but girls like her didn’t end well. They never were interested in anything serious. My old school was full of girls like that and they all thrived off of the same thing. Attention.
He deserved better. Someone all in. No one at our school could offer him that.
But did he listen? No. And now they were together. Like, together together.
And the truth was? I hated it.
The gym was decked out in silver and navy, all glitter and gauze under the theme Midnight Dreams . I guessed someone tried. The decorations blurred in my periphery as I headed toward the stage.
Taylor knew I’d be ditching her soon anyway, so she was fine when I split off.
My band was already setting up. Tony was tuning his guitar, Jason was checking his drums, and Richard was adjusting the keyboard height.
“How we feelin’ tonight, boys?” I said, strapping my guitar over my shoulder.
“We’re golden. Jason found his extra drumsticks. Crisis averted,” Tony smirked.
I laughed and scanned the gym. The crowd was already vibing to whatever the DJ was spinning. This was our kind of night. High energy, packed floor. We were good at this and not just in a local-band kind of way. We owned the room when we played.
“Hey. Look who it is,” Tony said, nodding behind me.
I turned and saw them. Nathaniel and Sarah. Tucked into each other like they were posing for the front of a greeting card. She had her arms around his neck, and he was leaning in with that dopey look on his face.
My stomach sank.
He looked good that night. Objectively, of course. His sleeves were rolled up, tie slightly loose around his neck, hair slightly tousled. I tugged at my own red tie, suddenly hyper-aware of how it sat against my black dress shirt.
“Poor bastard,” Tony muttered. “She’ll drop him after graduation. They always do. Nothing real survives college.”
I didn’t answer. I just watched as Nathaniel swayed with her, his eyes locked on hers like she was the sun.
It made me sick.
“Alright, let’s kick this off!” Jason called from the drums.
I shook the thoughts from my head, planted my feet, and focused.
Time to play.
We started with our most popular cover—M?neskin’s Beggin’ —and we were off.
***
Our set? Killer. Hot, loud, electric. The crowd was into it, just like I knew they would be. Hands in the air, voices singing the lyrics with us, exactly how I liked it.
After the set was done, I leapt off the stage. At some point my shirt went missing in action somewhere during the third song. All I had left was my red tie, hanging loose across my collarbones. Not that I minded. I worked hard to stay in shape. Let them look.
I cut through the crowd to grab a water bottle, my throat raw from belting. Eyes trailed me as I passed some girls, a few guys. The post-show glow was addicting. I lived for this feeling.
I reached the refreshment table, scanning for something sweet. My sweet tooth kicked in after every performance. If only they had carrot cake muffins here. Now that would be a perfect night.
Then I felt it.
Someone watching me.
I glanced up and saw her. Blue eyes locked on mine.
Sarah Lockwood.
Of course.
I took a swig of water. I ran my hand through my hair, pushing it back from my face.
“Enjoy the show?” I asked, voice casual.
She smiled softly. “You guys were great. Not that you need me to tell you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I like being told.”
Okay, so maybe flirting with my ex-best friends girl wasn’t the coolest thing for me to do but something in me wanted to guage her reaction.
And I was right. Just as I thought, she didn’t even flinch. Instead, her hands went behind her back, chest forward. Of course I noticed.
My eyes narrowed slightly. I wondered where Nathaniel was.
I always said she had a thing for me. If Nathaniel wasn’t going to believe me, maybe it was time I proved it to him.
I stepped closer, brushing past her as I reached for a sugar cookie.
“You lose your shirt or just trying to show off?” She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, fingers delicate.
I smirked before biting into the baked dessert. “A little of both. Wanna help me find it?” I nodded toward the exit, casually. She nodded her head and I began to guide the way.
She knew the shirt wasn’t outside. But she followed anyway.
Not surprised.
Not even a little.
***
Nathan
I shuffled through the crowd of bodies, in search for the one person I wanted to see. “Have you seen Caleb?” I asked Taylor, catching her mid-dance. She shook her head, all bouncy curls and glittery energy.
Another Weeknd song started playing over the speakers. Great. I knew if Caleb was controlling the music right now, he would’ve been playing Mayday Parade or The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. If Caleb loved it, everyone else would too.
I nodded and stepped away. I had looked everywhere, but he had vanished.
Lately, nights have been consumed with Sarah. I’ve hated not being able to spend time with him but having a girlfriend was…different. It was something I had never experienced before and I thought at some point, he’d be happy for me. Maybe even proud.
Truthfully, it probably wouldn’t have even happened if it weren’t for him. He had shoved me into the spotlight, and now I couldn’t even share it with him.We hadn’t had alone time together in months. Three, to be exact.
And it sucked.
So yeah, I wanted to congratulate him. That performance was... insane. I’d heard him sing before, sure—but nothing like that. He had been practicing. A lot.
He had looked amazing up there. Comfortable. Alive. That rasp in his voice, the way his hands moved across the guitar. I tried to ignore the way my stomach turned when I thought about it.
It was just pride, I told myself. Just admiration.
I missed him. God, I missed him.
I pushed through the crowd until I made it back to the stage. Tony and the other guys from the band were dancing like idiots and shoving each other around like we weren’t at a school event but a frat party.
“Hey!” I shouted. It was loud over here—too loud with the speakers right behind me. They finally looked over. Their faces shifted the second they saw it was me.
They didn’t like me. Never had. I wasn’t their friend. Caleb was. And they didn’t bother hiding it.
“Yo,” Tony said flatly, arms crossed over his chest like I’d already wasted his time.
“Have you seen Caleb?”
A slow smirk crept onto his face, one that made my skin crawl. It was smug. Almost like he knew something I didn’t.
“I think he walked out the gym doors,” he said, chin jutting toward the back. “Probably just in the hallway.”
I nodded. “Great. Thanks.”
He didn’t respond. Just kept smirking. Weird.
I turned back around and started pushing through the crowd again, this time heading toward the doors.
It wasn’t until I was halfway there that I realized I hadn’t seen Sarah in a while either. She had said she was going to grab a bottle of water, but that had been, what, fifteen minutes ago?
As if summoned by my thoughts, I heard her laugh echo through the hall. That unmistakable, breathy little giggle she always did when she was flirting.
It was coming from around the corner by the lockers.
My stomach tightened. Who was making her laugh like that? And why was it coming from the same direction as— Caleb.
I stopped in my tracks. There they were. Sitting on the windowsill like it was the most natural thing in the world. His leg perched up behind her, caging her in. Her body turned toward him like she belonged there.
His hand was in her hair. And his mouth— His mouth was on hers. Eyes closed. So into it. So comfortable. So not mine.
I just stood there. Watching the two of them.
Like a fucking idiot.