Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
The silence is too loud.
Nerves pulse through my hands, and I try to pull them back.
Caleb’s hands cover mine, refusing to let me go.
His touch is electric, making my brain short circuit from his skin against mine.
“Do you mean it?” he asks, hesitation audible in every single syllable. “I can’t handle you messing with me right now.” He lets go of my hands and stands, turning to face me.
Red brims the whites of his eyes, and a sheepish expression covers his face as his gaze drops to my lips.
My heart continues to gain speed. I have to remind myself to keep breathing. “I mean it.”
His stare traces back up to my eyes. “I don’t know if you should come any closer.”
I take a step closer, letting my hand wander up, settling on the back of his neck. “And why not?”
“I thought you didn’t like it when people touch you,” he whispers.
“You,” I say, taking his hand and slowly guiding it to my face, “aren’t people.”
His dimples pop from a soft smile. His head dips closer to mine, breath warm, inches away from my lips. His other hand wraps around my waist with a timid touch as if he’s still asking for permission.
“Why are you still holding back?” I whisper.
He pauses. “Because I’m afraid you’ll regret this.”
“I won’t. I know what I want.”
He traces my face with his eyes. “And what’s that?”
I move even closer. Close enough that my lips graze his when I speak. “You.”
His soft lips meet mine, and he pulls me into him. His kiss is hesitant at first, but each one after becomes bolder and more urgent.
I never thought that kissing someone—being this close to someone—would feel so good, but now that I’m in Caleb’s arms, I don’t want to leave. I want him to keep breathing me in. To kiss me not once, but a thousand times.
I wrap my fingers into his dark hair, kissing him back.
At this moment, we are the only ones around. Everything else melts away. All my problems seem minuscule because the only thing on my mind is the way Caleb’s lips feel against mine.
He finally pulls back, resting his forehead against mine.
I rub his cheek with my thumb, letting it run over his smooth skin. His pain tears me up inside when I think about the boy that ran into our home all those years ago. That’s the version of Caleb that’s in front of me right now. Not the optimistic version of himself he always pretends to be.
“Bec,” he says, breathing in slowly. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into a hug. “What changed?”
I lean into him and rest my head on his chest. “I don’t really know. But the other day, when I was upset, you were the one I ran to. I need you, Caleb.”
He leaves a gentle kiss on the top of my head.
“Are you still upset about your mom?”
He shrugs. “It’s whatever.”
“It’s not. You can tell me how you really feel.” I hold him tighter, letting his cedar scent fill my senses.
“I don’t know how I feel. It doesn’t feel real. Sometimes I feel like she doesn’t know me—doesn’t see me.”
I peer up at him. “I see you.” His dimples show again as the corner of his mouth turns up. “Tell me what you want. We can do whatever you want. I promise.”
He shakes his head with a soft laugh. “You don’t have to try and make me feel better. It’s okay.” A little smirk coats my lips. He moves my bangs out of my face, tucking the hairs behind my ear as he looks down at me. “What?”
I clear my throat. “Caleb?”
“Bec?”
“Will you go to the winter formal dance with me?”
He laughs. “I thought you hated dances.”
“But you don’t,” I say, poking my finger into his chest.
“I won’t make you go to the dance if you don’t want to.”
“No, no, no. See, this is your problem. You care too much about what other people want to do that you forget you matter too. If you want to go to the dance, then we’re going. It’s as simple as that.”
He breaks into a smile from ear to ear. “Do you even own a dress?”
I scowl. “You mean I really can’t wear sweats?”
He steps back and places his hands on my shoulders, looking me up and down. “Sure, why not start a new trend.”
I give him a look as I push his arm. “No.” My gaze darts away. “I’ve been known to dress up on a rare occasion. If I have a good reason to.”
His eyes sparkle with his smile. “And you have one?”
I rock my jaw. “Wow, you’re really fishing, aren’t you?”
“I never thought I’d hear you say that you like me. I’m having a hard time believing it’s true.” His hand wanders down my arm, finding my hand.
I fold my fingers into his. “Well, believe it. I don’t like a lot of people, but Caleb?”
“Yes?” he says, biting at his smile again.
I stare into his deep brown eyes, memorizing every line of his face because I’m convinced he has a face I never want to forget. “I like you.”
Sadie slams her math book shut. The thud echoes through the library. “You did what?”
My eyes bug out, glancing toward the librarian on the other side of the room. “Hush.”
Sadie’s mouth gapes open. “You kissed Caleb?”
“You’re practically yelling,” I warn.
“You . . .” She cups her cheeks with both hands. “I mean you—I can’t believe—are you sure?”
“You’re right. I made the whole thing up.” I sit back in my chair and roll my eyes.
“So you”—she holds up one hand with pinched fingers—“kissed Caleb?” She taps it against her other hand.
I nod.
Her hand flies up to her mouth to cover her silent scream.
“And I told him I’d go to the winter formal with him.”
Her palm hits the table. “Stop. You did not.”
My mouth breaks into a cringey smile. “I did.”
She leans in. “Who are you, and what have you done with Becca?”
I shrug and start to fill my backpack since we’re done studying for the day.
“You need a ship name,” she says.
My jaw drops. “Sadie.”
“What? It’s true.” She smiles, freckles popping along her laugh lines.
“I don’t care. Shut it.”
She gasps, clapping her hands together. “Do you have something to wear to the dance?”
I cringe, zipping up my backpack. “What’s the big deal? Caleb asked me the same thing. Does it really matter?”
“Does it really matter?” She shakes her head. “Oh Becca, you sweet ignorant peasant. How often do you get the excuse to dress up? I’d sell my left kidney if I could go to more dances.”
“I’d prefer to keep my kidneys, thank you very much.”
Her hand shoots out to mine. “Please let me take you shopping. I know you hate it, but don’t you want to find something special for Caleb?”
Heat rises to my ears.
She bounces her thick red eyebrows at me. “Don’t you?”
“Fine.”
She squeals, legs kicking me under the table. “You won’t regret it. Well, you might a little, but I swear it’ll be worth it.” She jumps up, circling the table and yanking me out of the chair.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going shopping before you have a chance to back out,” she says, pushing me from behind.
“But the dance is so far away.”
“What? It’s only a couple of weeks away. It’ll be here before you know it. Besides, I have my big math test next week, so I’ll be too busy to go then.”
My feet are made out of lead, not wanting to move forward but also unable to counteract Sadie’s momentum. They stubble forward, not entirely by choice.
“I know the perfect store. Trust me,” she says.
Within minutes, I’m strapped into the passenger side of Sadie’s car. I clutch the seatbelt for dear life as she pulls her old rickety sedan out of the parking lot.
“Are you sure this car is safe?”
She pats the dash. “Of course. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Bessie here is stronger than she looks.”
Sadie is known for naming not just her own cars, but everyone else’s too.
She named my brother’s car Bruce because it was white and reminded her of a shark.
She named mine Stella because she said it looked like a petite princess.
I refuse to adopt that name, though. I’m not the princess type no matter how many times Sadie has tried to convert me.
Even today, I’m sure she’ll try to dress me up in the frilliest and sparkliest dresses possible.
“Oh, I love this song,” she says, turning the music up. “It’s not too loud, is it?”
I shake my head. “It’s fine.”
It’s nice that she asked. So many people forget that abrupt loud noises bother me, but she didn’t. It’s those little things that remind me she used to be such a big part of my life. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss it.
My rough personality is a turnoff to most people, but Sadie never took it personally. She accepted my brash remarks and sarcastic tone with open arms, chalking it up to dark humor—which she found entertaining.
As we sit in the car, I relax and let go of the seatbelt. Even the faint reminders of Ethan don’t seem to bother me right now.
There’s a heart keychain hanging from the mirror that he gave her. There’s also a pen mark on the dash from when he was writing while Sadie drove, and Sadie took a sharp turn, making his pen jerk off course.
I smile as I remember the look of horror in his eyes. “I marked Bessie,” he said, lifting the pen. The car wasn’t new by any means, but she had only had it for a week.
Sadie cringed. “If I don’t look over, then it didn’t happen.”
“I can fix it,” Ethan said, rubbing his sleeve over it.
It only made it worse, smearing the ink.
My fingers graze the spot on the dash with a faint chuckle.
“What?” Sadie says.
I retract my hand. “It’s nothing.”
She saw my fingers on the mark, but she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she refocuses on the road ahead.
“It’s just . . . it’s been a while since we drove around like this,” I say, steering away from the topic of my brother.
She slows to a stop in front of a red light. “Yeah.” Her smile twists to the side, and she says in a low voice, “I wish things could go back to the way they were.”
There’s a part of me that wants that too, but I don’t know where to start. The more time we spend apart, the easier it is to pretend that we were never that close.
She clears her throat, breaking the silence. “So the store I’m taking you to is in the mall. It’s where I bought mine. Speaking of my dress, did I show you a picture of it?”
“No,” I say.
She tosses her phone into my lap. “The password is the same.”
I unlock it and open up her gallery. Ethan is on the lock screen and pictures of the two of them take up most of the gallery too, but the most recent pictures pull at my heart.
There haven’t been very many new pictures.
It’s like all of the memories she wanted to capture stopped three months ago.
I scroll up, looking for the dress. “I don’t see it. ”
She laughs. “I bought it right before school started, remember?”
Sadie wasn’t kidding when she said I was behind in getting a dress.
Bright purple overwhelms the grid all at once when it comes into view.
I press on one of the pictures to enlarge it.
The dress is pretty, with a sweetheart neckline and a poofy skirt that flares out at the waist, hitting right at the knee.
Sparkling beads cascade down the tulle, thick at the top and sparse at the bottom.
“The back is cute too,” she says, nearing the mall parkade.
“There’s only pictures of the front.”
Her brows furrow. “I think we took a video or something.”
There’s one video, and I start it.
“So is this the one?” Ethan asked, recording her.
His voice startles me, but I don’t stop the video.
Sadie sways to the side, letting the skirt flow around her knees. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean? This is the only one you’ve tried on for the second time. It makes your eyes shine and your hair pop. It’s perfect.”
She smiled big. “You think?”
“I know.” He moved toward her, his hand coming into frame, nudging her shoulder. “Turn around, I’ll film the back too so you can get a better look.”
Sadie giggled, twirling around to reveal a corset back.
The video ends and Sadie says, “See, I told you it’s cute.” She sniffles and quickly rubs her fingers across her eyes. “Sorry, there’s dust.”
Sadie is terrible at lying. It’s arguably her best, or worst, quality depending on the situation.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No, I know you don’t like hearing me talk about him anymore. It’s okay, really. Let’s go back to having a good day together. I don’t want to ruin it.”
I’m a bad friend because part of me agrees with her. We should steer clear of the button in my box, but at the same time, there’s no denying how my heart is ripping for her. She’s suffering the same way I am.
My stomach begins to rage. I set her phone down in my lap, facing her with a timid gaze. “It’s okay. Tell me.”
“Are you sure?” Tears gather at the brim of her eyes, not yet spilling over.
“Yes.”
“It’s his voice.” She takes a breath. “When I hear it, I’m reminded that I’m starting to forget the way he sounds.”
I fidget with my hands. Am I starting to forget it too? I’ve pushed him out of my mind so far that I don’t think I could recall it without a video either.
She bites her lip. “I picture him sometimes—pretend he’s still around—because it’s easier than being lonely. Don’t give me a weird look. I’m not crazy. I realize it’s my imagination. I just need him around, even if it’s all in my head.”
Here I had assumed that she was functioning way better than me. She shows up everywhere with a big smile and a laugh. On the inside, she’s struggling just as much as I am.
I can’t seem to acknowledge him, and she can’t seem to let him go.
She continues, “The world seems to have already forgotten him, and I loathe that. It’s not right.
He was the best guy I knew.” She’s not wrong.
Ethan always went above and beyond to help others.
“I’ve convinced myself that, if I focus on him, every little detail, then I won’t forget him, but each day he fades a little more.
That terrifies me. Is it really that easy to forget someone? ”
No, it’s not. I’ve tried, but he’s still there in the back of my mind.
“Then I think, if it’s so easy for people to forget him, how much easier would it be to forget someone like me?”
“No one’s going to ever forget you,” I say. “Come on, you’re the life of every party.” She has the amazing ability to turn heads, to captivate everyone in the room, and she’s not afraid to unapologetically be herself.
She half laughs. “Why do you think I do that?”
I never realized there was a reason behind the way she acted, but it all makes sense now. Sadie doesn’t want to be forgotten.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“For what?”
“I didn’t forget you.”
She puts the car in park, but she doesn’t look at me. “Sometimes it feels like you did.”
My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach like an anchor. How did I let it get this bad? Sadie didn’t do anything to deserve it. “Could we try to be friends again?” I say, voice cracking.
Her eyes lift with a soft smile. “I’d like that.”
“Okay, just promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Don’t force me to wear ruffles. I beg you.”
She laughs. “Oh, I can’t promise that. There are definitely going to be some ruffles.”
I roll my eyes and smile.