Chapter 46
Drew
“E
mmett,” I breathe, not believing the sight in front of me. We haven’t crossed paths in almost four weeks, and I had a feeling it was because he was avoiding me.
At first, I thought running into each other, in this very elevator, would be a sign. A sign telling me that Lacey was right when I called her that day after my and Emmett’s breakup in the parking lot. I told myself that if I ran into him, it was a sign that I needed to talk to him and let him tell me he didn’t want to let go of what we had.
But, when I never saw him, I let the thoughts in my head win.
Cal looks between Emmett and me, and I think he puts the puzzle pieces together. After Lacey and I got off the phone that day, I texted Cal. Turns out, it only took a few texts back and forth to realize that we were both missing the other, wishing we had family in our lives, both hesitating to make the first step of reaching out. He expressed how glad he was to hear from me which contradicted what my mind was trying to convince me. I was sure he would tell me to fuck off or say it was too late, but my thoughts were wrong.
The texts between Cal and I turned to phone calls, which turned to FaceTiming, and then we decided it was time to make plans to visit each other, show each other our spaces and lives, so we could become a part of each other’s. Cal drove up from Northwestern for the weekend, getting here just two hours ago. I showed him around my place, and now we were on our way to get dinner.
His partner, Emma, had plans with her girlfriends for this weekend, so the two of them celebrated Valentine’s Day the prior weekend.
Throughout the exchanges Cal and I had, we both apologized for not being there for one another, resulting in both of us feeling like we were alone. He learned much earlier that family doesn’t have to be blood, and he found a group of friends who showed him what it meant to be part of a family that loved you unconditionally.
Cal was also lucky to find Emma who helped him re-learn the idea of love, working hard to unlearn what our parents taught him.
This made me realize that it was possible to put the work into yourself and come out stronger, but that it’s still okay to lean on the ones you love for support.
It is safe to say that the last two hours, and our phone calls and FaceTimes over the past month, have been a substantial amount of trauma-dumping, but it helped Cal and I rebuild what seemed so broken beyond repair all those years ago.
We also had a lot of making up for lost time.
Between Cal and Lacey, I feel stronger. Not because I am relying on them, but because they love me enough to lend me their strength, the same way I would do for them.
“Hi, I’m Calvin.” Cal reaches his hand out towards Emmett who just continues to stare at me. His hair down but under a dark purple beanie, leaving his curls resting at his shoulder and down his neck. His warm, chocolate eyes impenetrable to what he is thinking, but the butterflies that lay dormant in my stomach for so long quickly awakened when the familiar warmth of his gaze covers me.
He is wearing his usual bartending attire, washed out black jeans, his high-top Vans, and a black hoodie, telling me he just came from work. His cheeks are as red as mine probably are, most likely from not wearing a jacket on his short walk from Lenny’s in this cold. I see a similar redness creeping up his neck the longer we hold each other’s gaze.
Cal takes his extended arm back and coughs into his fist, breaking Emmett away from my eyes.
“Emmett,” he says. Not making a move to take his hands out of his pockets.
I’ve seen that before.
Emmett meets my eyes again for a moment before turning towards the door leading to the stairs, not saying another word or looking back to see me watching him walk away.
Cal clears his throat before stepping us out of the elevator. “So… I’m assuming a drink is in order after that?”
Cal and I head to dinner, not addressing the elephant in the room. The restaurant is just passed my school, so I show him the middle school which prompts questions he has avoided until now.
As we drive past, he turns to me from the passenger seat and asks, “How’s being back after the shooting?”
The word doesn’t have much of an effect on my anymore, being part of what we call the “new normal”, trying to model for the students that it isn’t some unspoken entity looming around us but instead an uncomfortable topic that is important to address.
I keep my eyes on the road in front of me. “It’s different,” I reply. “It was hard welcoming the kids back with a smile because it felt fake, like it was painted on. The first day, I think I cried three or four times because it felt so surreal that we were back together in a room where we all shared those moments.
“The kids are resilient though. They are just so strong at such a young age. I would say even stronger than me. They don’t talk around it, and they feel safe in our space to ask questions and discuss what happened. A lot of them even shared how they coped and what helped them, and a few of them even shared their feelings about the need for gun control and reform.”
“Wow. How old are they again?”
“Sixth grade, so 11 or 12.”
“They can have those kind of conversations?”
“We had a pretty solid classroom community before the shooting. Taking the time to make sure all students feel comfortable and loved is important to me, so I spend a lot time throughout the year ensuring students have solid relationships with me and each other.
“Co-creating a space that is safe, both literally and figuratively, allows us to have those deep conversations. It may not feel literally safe like it once did, but it is still a space where all voices matter, and students feel safe expressing their thoughts, opinions, or feelings.”
“What about the shooter’s brother? Did he come back?”
I shake my head, feeling my emotions getting the better of me as I think of Cole. “His grandparents thought it would be better for him to get a fresh start somewhere else. It was a hard pill to swallow for me, but I had to accept they were doing what was best for him.”
I think of Cole every day, both when I’m inside the classroom and outside of it. It was another loss to mourn, but he deserves the world. I’m hoping to reach out to his grandparents to see how he is doing, maybe trying to stay in touch. A kid like that could use all the support to lean on, even if he is more than capable of standing on his own two feet.
“What about the other sixth grade teacher?”
“All of us teachers have been covering for her class until they find someone to fill the position more long-term.”
Along with Cole, I think of Rita often, longing for her support and guidance, and I miss being able to see her every day by looking across the hall. I make sure to do my job for the both of us, knowing that she would do the same for me and my students.
The rest of the ride is quiet, just the music faintly playing. We’re about to park at the restaurant when Cal asks, “What are you going to do about Emmett? He looked pretty surprised to see you.”
“You’re just full of questions tonight, huh?” I park the car, idling it before unclipping my seatbelt. I lean back in my seat and sign. “But in all honesty, I have no idea.”
Cal unclips his seatbelt, a hint of a smile on his face when he turns to look at me. “I think he still has feelings for you.” Cal has light brown hair that gets darker in the winter. He is constantly running his fingers through it to push to the side revealing his bushy eyebrows and greens that occasionally look blue in the right light. He has the same olive skin as me with similar facial features, but he got the height that I didn’t.
Some say they can’t see the resemblance between us while others say we look like twins.
“He thought I was your date.”
Holy shit.
My stomach drops. “No, I didn’t even think of that!” I grab the steering wheel and press my forehead against it. I let out a groan, making my brother laugh. “He’s never going to talk to me now.”
“Were you even going to talk to him?” I ignore him and lightly hit my head on the steering wheel a few times, punishing myself for not registering the obvious. “Also, I’m choosing to ignore that you never told him you had a brother,” he teases.
I turn to face him, my head still against the wheel. “I was working up the nerve to unveil all that history that comes with our relationship,” I pause before adding, “and it never came up.”
“Well, work faster because now you have even more explaining to do.”
Cal gets out of the car and heads into the restaurant.
I let out one more groan before turning off the car and opening the driver’s door to follow him in.
“You’re helping me type up a text to him,” I yell to him. He’s a few steps ahead of me.
“Yeah, yeah. I know,” he says, turning around to smile at me.