Chapter 23 #2
“Yeah, I am,” I reply honestly as we climb into her car and start down the driveway.
Time with Caleb is a limited, precious thing. Basically the polar opposite of how I viewed interacting with him for most of high school.
“Is Kyle coming tonight?” I ask. I’m not the biggest fan of the guy she’s been dating for the last five months, but I tolerate him for Cassie.
“Nope.” She pops the P.
“Everything going okay between you guys?”
“Things aren’t going at all. We’re on a break that’s headed for a break-up.”
“I’m sorry, Cassie.”
“It’s fine. College is a time for exploring new things, right? Meeting new people.”
“Right,” I reply dryly, and she catches it. College hasn’t been either of those things for me.
“I didn’t mean…”
“I know. It’s fine,” I assure Cassie.
I haven’t told anyone about applying to Clarkson, except for Caleb. And now Gramps. The more people who I tell, the more I’ll have to let know I’m staying put after all.
I know some people judge me for the decision I made senior year of high school. Who see staying in Landry as giving up or being lazy.
But it was my decision to make, and I made it. I’m two semesters away from earning a degree. Not at an Ivy League institution like most teenagers I graduated alongside, but labels and reputations are things I’ve always done my best to disregard.
I’m at peace with my decision to stay in Landry.
I just didn’t expect to fall—and stay—in love with someone who means just as much to me as the fifteen acres of dirt that contain everything else in the world that matters to me.
“Only one more year,” Cassie tells me, in what I know she means to be a comforting manner.
“Yeah,” I agree, although the statement isn’t much of an assurance. Things between me and Caleb won’t magically become less complicated next year. The exact opposite, actually.
If Caleb pursues baseball professionally, he could end up anywhere in the country. If he opts for a business career, he’ll end up in some big, busy city that is not Landry, Kentucky. Living three hours apart doesn’t sound all that terrible compared to either of those two scenarios.
Cassie seems to sense my discomfort with the topic, because she lets the subject drop as she parks outside Colt’s house. Like most of the residences in Landry, it’s obnoxiously large. The circular driveway is packed with cars.
It takes Cassie ten minutes to maneuver into a spot that ensures neither the car in front nor behind will be able to leave until she does.
I open my door over a flowerbed and sigh.
Even if she wanted to, I don’t think Cassie could shift spots.
I pick my way through daisies and mulch, finally ending up on the brick walkway right behind Cassie.
As we approach the front door, some nerves appear in my stomach.
I used to dread social events because of the surreptitious glances and whispers that would follow me.
They still do, but it’s no longer gossip about my parents’ drama and the falling-down collection of buildings known as Matthews Farm.
I’m pretty sure I could count on one hand the number of people who thought Caleb and I would last when we started officially dating. Since then, most of the town seems to have accepted we’re not a couple on the cusp of breaking up.
The novelty of me dating Caleb Winters may have worn off somewhat, but interest in Caleb has far from waned. Since I’m now viewed as a reliable source of information when it comes to him—maybe the most reliable source of information—that means I’ve remained newsworthy by mere association.
Cassie and I step inside the house, and I’m shocked by the number of people here.
The few gatherings I’ve attended this summer have all been around twenty people at the most. There are at least fifty in the living room alone, and this is supposed to be a backyard barbeque, meaning the bulk of the attendees are outside.
“Wow,” Cassie comments, glancing around as well. “Big turnout.”
“There must not have been anything else to do tonight,” I reply, and Cassie laughs. It’s a remark only someone who’s fully settled in small town life would appreciate. Because there’s rarely anything to do. Let alone multiple options.
Cassie follows me toward the back of the house. Because of his close friendship with Caleb, I’m quite familiar with the layout of Colt’s home, even when it is packed with people.
We enter the kitchen, and I’m relieved to see it’s not as crowded as the rest of the house.
Cassie makes a beeline for the island. I trail after her, glancing around to see who I recognize. Unfortunately, the person I make eye contact with would not have been my first choice of conversationalist.
I send Madison a small smile, anyway. “Hi, Madison. How are you?” I ask politely, halting a couple of feet away from her.
“I’m good, Lennon. You?” she responds, fiddling with a strand of her hair.
“All right, thanks.”
We’ve made progress from high school, but not much.
I spent most of the four years believing she unceremoniously dumped me as a best friend in response to my father overdosing at the racetrack just before the start of our freshman year.
I learned at senior prom it had more to do with Caleb Winters’s arrival in town.
Apparently, Madison sensed his interest in me three and a half years before I had the slightest clue, and held a grudge for the same length of time.
“Lennon!” Cassie calls from the island, finally realizing I’m no longer right behind her.
Madison gives me a small smile. “See you.” She heads for the deck door that leads to the backyard before I can reply.
I amble over to Cassie, who hands me a can of beer.
Drinks in hand, we walk out into the backyard. The smell of roasting meat permeates the humid air. The sun is rapidly dropping behind the tall oaks that line the Adams’ backyard, with only the faintest glimmers of golden light visible between the broad trunks.
There are a few unfamiliar faces I’d guess belong to those here with their families to enjoy Landry’s main summer attraction: the racetrack. But the bulk of the people gathered around are familiar ones.
I doubt anyone could say I was social in high school with a straight face, but I grew up here. Most everyone in the backyard has played some small part in my life.
Cassie and I head toward Shannon, Eliza, and Tina first. I saw all three of them at Cassie’s house two nights ago, but they greet us like it’s been years, in the enthusiastic manner of people feeding off boisterous energy and enjoying the buzz of booze.
Larger gatherings like this are rare in Landry.
“Caleb’s not here yet?” Tina asks me.
I figured the news he’d be here tonight was public knowledge based on the turnout.
I wasn’t the only person who thought Caleb Winters would leave Landry and never look back.
The fact that he hasn’t, that he spends every free minute not tied up by baseball commitments here, has largely been attributed to me.
So was his choice to attend the university with a Division I baseball program closest to Landry.
I love him for proving me wrong about his commitment to us.
I hate that him doing so has increased interest and envy regarding our relationship.
How people are blown away by the fact Caleb Winters is voluntarily choosing to return here even though his grandfather is gone and his parents only stop by a couple of times a year. Despite not growing up here and only having roots of the tangential kind.
How his dedication has raised eyebrows about how I’ve never so much as made the three-hour trip to Clarkson University to visit him or watch him play.
I shrug in response to Tina’s question. “Not sure.”
I avoid talking about Caleb with other people, even among the group of girls I’m standing with, who I consider close friends. Being the recipient of envy is something I find both uncomfortable and unfamiliar.
Even though they’ve all accepted our relationship, no one I know seems capable of looking at Caleb without hearts in their eyes.
He’s not the uncaring player I once pegged him as, but he’s not perfect.
And as someone who is fully aware of her imperfections, it’s uncomfortable standing so close to someone under a constant spotlight of attention and adoration.
It feels like flying too close to the sun.
Cassie sets off on a tangent about her woes with Kyle, the frat guy she’s been dating on and off since junior year.
I listen intently along with Shannon, Tina, and Eliza, keenly aware of how they all keep glancing toward the back porch whenever anyone exits the house.
Sick of holding the rapidly warming can of beer and eager for a cold soda, I excuse myself as soon as there’s a lull in the conversation. Being legally able to drink has only further diminished my interest in doing so. There’s not even the allure of the forbidden anymore.
“Hey, Lennon.”
I halt my progress toward the coolers to glance to the left. Andrew is standing next to the collection of trash cans, clutching a bottle of water. Out of everyone at this party, he’s probably the only one who could give me a run for Most Antisocial. I’m shocked he’s here.
“Hi, Andrew.” I give my former editor a friendly smile, feeling a twinge of nostalgia as I watch him shove his glasses up his nose in a familiar motion. There was a time when I didn’t think there was any part of high school I’d miss. Turns out there are lots. “How’s Yale?”
“Good! Good!” Andrew informs me eagerly, launching into a detailed description of the journalism courses he’s taken and the newspaper internships he’s done without any prompting.
Guest lectures from world-famous reporters and visits to The New York Times aren’t at all how I’ve spent the past three years, and it elicits a pang of resentment I fight to ignore.
That could have been me in another life.
I have the writing talent, the drive, the ambition. I just…have had to reallocate them.