Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Caleb and the boys spend the next hour playing through their song list for the dance. I have to admit, they sound amazing. Everyone at the dance is going to freak out when they hear them.
I wait patiently on the couch, listening to them and occasionally scrolling through my socials until Caleb’s phone rings.
He answers, running over to the staircase where it’s quieter. “Hey, what’s up?”
A minute later, he walks back into the room. All of the color in his face has drained.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, jumping up off the couch.
“We have to head back,” he says. His voice is quiet.
“Is everything okay? Who called?”
“It was my mom.” He rocks his jaw, lowering his eyes. “She has an interview.”
“What’s so bad about that?” I ask.
“It’s for a position in Portland.”
I stagger back. Chest heavy.
Portland is over an hour away from here. Caleb and his family have lived next door to us for as long as I can remember, and I can’t even imagine what’s going through his head right now. If it were me, my mind would be racing in a million different directions. I’d be falling apart.
He’s holding it in, staying calm, but I don’t buy it.
We say goodbye to the guys and head to the car. He’s quiet for a long time, keeping his focus on the road ahead.
“Did you know about it?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “She doesn’t want us to worry about her work. She just wants us to focus on school.”
“Why don’t you tell her you don't want her to do it?” I say, twiddling my thumbs.
“I can’t,” he whispers.
“Why not?”
He tenses, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. He takes a while to respond as if he doesn’t really want to say what’s on his mind. “Dad. It’s because of him.”
I swallow, scared to venture into this unknown territory.
“He was in a lot of debt when he died. My mom has worked really hard to get us back on our feet. She doesn’t want us to ever be without anything.”
“She cares about you a lot.”
He nods. “But this job . . .” He takes a break and sighs. “She wants it to help pay our college tuition. She wants me to go to Stanford, but I don’t even want to go there. And I don’t want her to put our family into debt again over it.”
“Tell her that,” I say.
“I don’t know how to. It’ll break her heart.”
I want to hug him. To let him know that it’ll be okay, but my arms stay put.
We get out of the car as Mrs. Park comes running out of the house. Her long black hair blows behind her, and she hugs her coat tight around her chest. “You got here just in time,” she says, closing the door behind her. She frowns when she notices me. “Shouldn’t you be headed home?”
“That’s probably a good idea,” I say, ready to leave. I have a feeling these two need to talk, even if Caleb doesn’t really want to.
Caleb gently grabs my arm. “Don’t go.” His eyes plead for me to stay.
Mrs. Park looks between us, settling even further into her frown.
He looks back at his mom. “You should go. I wouldn’t want you to be late for your interview.” His normally warm tone is dry and calloused.
She brings her finger to her lips. “Hush. I don’t want Jordy to hear.”
Caleb rubs the back of his neck. “Do you really expect me not to tell him?”
“You can’t. It’ll upset him.”
“And finding out later won’t?”
“Why are you overreacting? You never do this,” she says, looking over her shoulder to check the window. “I’ll tell him eventually—when the time is right.”
“You have to tell him.”
“I can’t yet. I’m so afraid of upsetting him every second of every day. He’s not like you. He can’t handle it. I need more time—”
“Just because I don’t hyperventilate when I’m upset doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. I get hurt too. I get mad. I get overwhelmed. I get sad. I just hide it from you!”
I’ve never seen Caleb talk to his mom this way. He’s always so calm and patient. But it’s clear that the button in his box has been pushed. He’s barely keeping it together. I want to reach out and touch him.
His hands are shaking, and his eyes start roaming, looking for an escape. He starts walking toward the house.
“Wait,” she says.
He pauses as if he’s waiting for her to apologize. “What?”
“Don’t tell him yet.”
He nods so slightly that I almost miss it, and walks into the house, leaving me awkwardly standing in front of his mom. Her eyes water, and she hugs herself.
I cringe, stepping around her. “I’ll go check on him.”
“Don’t,” she says, her tone as cold as ice.
I pause briefly. “Then stop me.”
She can chase after me if she wants, but I’m not going to desert him.
I run into the house after Caleb, closing the door. I slip off my shoes, arranging them nicely on the rack before racing into the living room.
Jordy sits on the couch, munching on a sandwich while watching a movie, totally oblivious to the situation.
“Where did Caleb go?” I ask, checking over my shoulder to see if I’ve been followed.
Mrs. Park is nowhere in sight.
Jordy shrugs. “Since when do I keep track?”
Before I can say anything else, a cymbal crashes into a heavy beat.
“He’s in the garage,” Jordy says.
I give him a look. Thanks. I wouldn’t have guessed.
The drums continue to echo through the house. It's as loud as thunder, and it makes my skin crawl with every beat. I cover my ears the best I can while opening the garage door. “Caleb!”
He’s hunched over the drum set, arms flying in the air as they strike down—again and again and again.
I inch closer. “Caleb!”
He doesn’t stop. If anything, he plays harder.
My heart rushes as my fingertips graze the back of his shirt. I gingerly slide my hands around his waist, hugging him from behind. “Caleb,” I say, close to his ear.
His arms pause mid-air, and his breath catches as the drumsticks fall from his hands, ricocheting on the concrete floor. I hold him tighter, gripping the fabric of his shirt.
“Please don’t,” he whispers. “I’m afraid I’ll take this the wrong way. I might actually start to think you like me.”
I rest my chin on his shoulder, and whisper back, “Maybe that’s what I’m trying to tell you.”