Chapter 52
Jase
Losing Caleb felt almost as bad as losing Sam, but in a different way—even though it’s impossible to compare. But he was always there for me, and then from one day to the next, he wasn’t.
—Jase
Zoe and her parents went with the police officers to the station, while Caleb and I stayed here. I wanted to go with them, and letting her go without me almost felt like tearing myself in half. I know it’s right that just her parents are with her, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.
Reed, that bastard, turned himself in. He went to the police and admitted what he’d done. That’s why Caleb couldn’t find him.
“Here.” I look up as Caleb hands me a cup, which I accept. I take a sip without bothering to see what it is and almost choke as the sharp taste of whiskey hits me, mixed with coffee, cream, and sugar.
“What the hell is this?” I raise my eyebrows reproachfully, but he just shrugs, then almost smiles.
“Irish coffee,” he explains. “Mom’s recipe.”
“It’s not even lunchtime yet,” I say, wondering what I’m even still doing here.
“Sure, but you look like you need it.” He sits down in the armchair across from me and raises his own cup. “I think we both need it,” he murmurs.
Then we’re quiet. Not in an uncomfortable way; we know each other far too well for that. But strangely, things are starting to feel normal between us again, like it hasn’t been a whole year since we last talked.
At some point, I break the silence. “How are you?”
Surprised, Caleb looks up, and the next second his face goes blank. “Fine. Everything’s okay,” he replies. He’s lying, I know it. I recognize the mask he’s hiding behind.
“Come on, Caleb. How are you?”
I take another sip, and this time the taste on my tongue is a little less awful.
His jaw muscles are working. He’s clinging to his cup so hard that his knuckles are white. I wait.
“I really want to kill him,” he finally manages to get out through clenched teeth.
“Me too.” More than that. I want to send Reed to hell without any chance of return. It’s what the bastard deserves.
“I just don’t understand how he could do it.
He was my friend. Zoe is my little sister.
He—” Shaking his head, Caleb stops. There’s irrepressible fury burning in his eyes.
“I’m so angry I want to tear him into pieces.
He was my fucking friend, and he raped Zoe.
How . . . how can you even get over something like that?
It’s all such fucking shit. I don’t even know what to say anymore, let alone what to do. ”
“Yeah,” I say, because I feel exactly the same way.
How do you go on? Is it even possible? No clue.
I don’t know if I’ve ever felt as helpless as I have in these last twenty-four hours.
Except for the day when Sam died. And the weeks after.
But that was a different kind of helplessness, because there really was nothing I could do.
Now I know I can do something to help; I just don’t know what it is yet.
To help her. To help Caleb. To help myself. This all just sucks.
This time, Caleb breaks the silence between us.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“For what?”
“For acting like an asshole the past year.”
I shrug, because I can’t deny it; he did act like an asshole. “We don’t have to talk about it,” I say, even though I know we should at some point. We can’t just sit here and pretend that it didn’t happen. I still don’t understand why he decided we just weren’t friends anymore.
“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I fell in love with your sister.” Not that that was wrong; it was totally right. For me, at least. But he obviously doesn’t see it that way.
He laughs joylessly. “Yeah, it would have been good to know that. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I didn’t know . . . I didn’t know if she wanted me, and I was afraid it would ruin our friendship.” I’m being ruthlessly honest, and it feels good. Too much has happened to be anything else.
“It didn’t.”
I raise an eyebrow wordlessly. Of course it did.
Caleb rolls his eyes and sighs. “Okay, it did. It ruined our friendship. But not because the two of you fell in love. I didn’t have a problem with you getting together.
Wait, that’s not true. I had a problem with it, but it wasn’t your fault.
” The words stumble out of his mouth, fast and muddled.
But there’s a missing piece, and I suspect it’s something crucial.
“And?” I ask, though part of me would have liked to spare us the answer.
He takes a deep breath, agonized. “I had a problem with it because I was . . . like Zoe. I had . . . feelings for you.”
I blink. I can’t move. I stare at him. And I understand.
I have to say something, anything, but the only thing that comes out of my mouth is one quiet word. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, exactly,” Caleb says sarcastically. “Kind sucked seeing the two of you make out.”
“Caleb, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t,” he says and puts his hands over his face, looking exhausted. “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. Basically, I knew that you didn’t feel the same way. I was just insanely good at lying to myself. Okay, and I really had no clue that you were into my little sister.”
I don’t know what to say. My mind is completely blank. My best friend had feelings for me, and I was—am—in love with his sister. What do you even say to that?
“That night when I saw you, I ran away because it broke my heart. Zoe followed me, and we both cried for a long time. And then we got drunk. And then . . . everything got much worse.”
“What happened wasn’t your fault,” I say, hoping he already knows that. But sometimes you just need to hear it.
“Yes, I know.” He sighs.
“But?”
“I’ve been wondering for a year if it could have been different, if I’d taken better care of her. If I’d brought her home instead of leaving her at Charlotte’s.”
“She’d already spent the night with Charlotte hundreds of times. She slept there after every party. You couldn’t have known. And you couldn’t have changed anything.”
Caleb doesn’t look convinced. But after a while, he nods anyway.
“Afterward . . . I couldn’t talk to you.
Not only because I had no clue what to say.
I couldn’t tell you that I was in love with you.
I couldn’t say anything. Zoe didn’t want anyone to find out what happened.
She didn’t want to see or talk to anyone.
And I couldn’t have lied to you. It was easier with the others.
They spent the whole summer in Europe and didn’t hear a thing.
Except for Tristan. He helped me take Zoe to the hospital, but he never asked what happened.
With you, it would have been different. You—”
“I would have asked.”
Caleb nods. “You did too. It was shitty of me not to answer your calls or messages. And it was shitty that no one answered when you came to the door. It was just . . . easier. As awful as that sounds, it was. It was a clean cut, for all of us.”
I stare at my cup and take another sip, but this time it makes my eyes water. Yes, it was easier. For them. And a thousand times more terrible for me. The fact that I understand now doesn’t change that. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“I needed you,” I say.
“I know. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
Zoe told him everything; I know without him having to say it. Those two don’t keep secrets from each other. I’m glad not to have to tell him the whole fucking story.
I look into Caleb’s eyes. They’re a different color than Zoe’s, but I can see a lot of her in him anyway.
“What happens next?”
“I don’t know. We wait.”
“That’s not what I meant. I meant with you and me and Zoe.”
Caleb smiles, and it’s genuine. “Well, I hope that you make her happy and that you can be there for her. If not, unfortunately, I’ll have to kick your ass.”
I grin. “Noted.”
“And for me . . .” Caleb blushes. “Things won’t go back to the way they were. But I’d like to go back to being friends again at some point. And you can get to know Parker too. My boyfriend.”
I just nod. My throat feels constricted, and I feel a familiar prickling in my eyes.
“I missed you, man,” I say hoarsely, because it’s the truth. And because I’m tired of pushing everyone away. Of losing the people who are important to me. I want my best friend back.
A hopeful gleam appears in his eyes.
“Me too.”