CAELA #2
“But only if you’re down for it,” Eliza interjected. “It’s your birthday. We do what you want to do today.”
“I’m cool with it. As long as I can take some footage?” She held up her new camera with a grin. “I want to play with my new toy.”
“Oooh.” Eliza perked up as she backed the Jeep onto the road and started toward the theater. “Will you post it? Make Grady go viral?”
“Make my art go viral,” he corrected her. “Don’t get my face in any shots.”
“You have my word.”
An hour later, Caela sat on top of a dumpster, peering through the lens of her new camera at the back of Grady’s head as he sprayed bright red paint onto the dingy gray brick of the movie theater’s back wall. He hadn’t told them what he was painting yet, saying it would be a birthday surprise.
“He’s gotten better.” Eliza leaned against the opposite wall, her rich, russet skin glowing in the summer sun that filtered down into the alleyway.
She was technically meant to be playing lookout, making sure no one caught them since it was midday, though Grady had assured them no one would be back here at this hour.
“His art, I mean. He’s gotten a lot better since those first stick figures he painted on the side of the school in eighth grade. ”
“He’s been taking art lessons with my dad,” Caela said.
“Ugh. I’m jealous. I want to take lessons from your dad.”
“You don’t do art,” Caela pointed out.
“I’d start if it meant getting some alone time with Mr. Conroy.”
“Ew!”
“Kidding!”
“You’d better be.”
She filmed for a few more minutes before powering off the camera and looking over at her best friend, who, in turn, was looking at Grady.
“He really is talented,” Eliza said.
Caela swallowed and fidgeted with her camera strap, eyes darting between her two friends, before asking a question that had been on her mind for a while. “Are you two … ?”
Eliza turned toward her, one eyebrow raised as she looked over the top of her sunglasses. “Are we … ? What?”
Caela lowered her voice. “Are you … you know … ?”
“Wait—me and Grady?”
Caela nodded.
“No!” Eliza quickly dropped back to a whisper, inching closer to the dumpster as she shook her head. “Oh my God, no. Absolutely not. Why would you ask that?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Just … a vibe, I guess.”
“The wrong vibe,” Eliza assured her. “We’re friends. Just like you two are. Besides, if anything did happen—which it hasn’t—you’d be the first to know. Obviously.”
It was embarrassing how relieved Caela was to hear that.
It wasn’t like she really thought anything would ever happen between her and her best friend.
She was pretty sure Eliza was straight, after all.
But still. She wasn’t sure she was strong enough to watch her two closest friends get together while crushing on one of them.
“Done!” Grady shouted, seemingly oblivious to the conversation going on behind him. “Take a look.”
Caela turned toward the wall, where Grady had graffitied a pair of pursed red lips, complete with highlights and shading to create some dimension.
“A kiss for the birthday girl,” he said, walking over to stand beside Caela as she pulled her camera back up to film the finished product. “What do you think?”
“It looks great,” she said. “You really are getting good.”
“Thanks. This one’s in your honor.”
“I’m flattered.”
“Crap. Guys,” Eliza hissed, “I think someone’s coming.”
Sure enough, the sound of footsteps could be heard from down the side of the theater, and a second later an employee, middle-aged with messy salt-and-pepper hair, appeared with a bag of garbage in his hand.
He spotted the new art on the wall first, his mouth falling open in surprise, before he caught sight of them.
“Run!” Eliza yelped, grabbing Caela’s hand. Caela managed to grab Grady’s arm, and the three of them took off down the alley, leaving the man yelling after them.
“Get back here!” he shouted at their backs. “I’m calling the police!”
Adrenaline-fueled laughter bubbled out of Caela, and she caught Eliza’s eye as they whipped around another building and sprinted toward the side street where the Jeep was parked.
“Go, go, go!”
“Dad! I’m home!”
Caela stepped through the door of their apartment a little after seven, skin tingling from a fresh sunburn. The lights in the living room were out, and the place didn’t yet smell of Thai food, so he must not have made it back yet.
She kicked off her combat boots and flopped down on the couch to watch the footage she’d taken on her new camera.
She’d have to do some editing to keep any identifying features out of it, and she’d need to wait until things had blown over at the theater to post it online—anonymously, of course—but she already had ideas for how she’d make it look spectacular.
Maybe she really would get Grady’s art to go viral.
When half an hour had passed, she sent her dad a text, teasing him for being late to her birthday dinner. She assumed he’d gotten caught up at the store, so she stretched out on the couch with some trashy reality show on the TV.
Caela didn’t know she’d fallen asleep until the sound of someone at the door sent her bolting upright.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Polite knocking might as well have been gunshots for as loud as it seemed to her sleep-addled mind.
She rubbed her eyes and glanced around. The apartment was still dark, and the sun had set outside the window.
No sign of her dad, either. The clock on her phone told her it was after nine, long past when her dad should have arrived with dinner.
There was another knock, a bit more insistent this time. Caela wondered if he’d forgotten his keys and accidentally locked himself out.
“Hello?” she called out as she shuffled over to the door.
“Police,” a man’s voice—not her dad’s—replied.
Her heart pounded in her chest. Were they here about the graffiti?
Would she be in trouble, even though she hadn’t done the painting?
Caela had never dealt with the police before.
Never even spoken to a real cop, outside of the one who came to her elementary school to talk to her class about not doing drugs.
But sure enough, when she stood on tiptoe to look through the peephole, she saw a burly man in a blue uniform standing in the hallway.
Panic swirled in her stomach. She was going to be in trouble. Maybe even be arrested. Worse, her dad would be so mad at her.
This wasn’t how she’d expected her birthday to end.
The cop knocked again and, seeing no other option, Caela opened the door. She tried to remember how people talked to police in the movies. “Um … Can I help you, Officer?”
The man looked down at her with an expression she couldn’t quite place. His eyes were soft. Softer than she’d expect for someone coming to take her to juvie.
“Is your mom home?” he asked.
Caela shook her head.
“Are there any adults I can speak to?”
“Um, not right now. It’s just me and my dad, and he’s not home yet.”
At the moment, she was a little relieved by that fact. Maybe he wouldn’t have to see her get arrested for being an accessory to vandalism. Though it was odd that he was more than two hours late.
The officer lowered his head a little, and Caela thought his expression seemed to go from soft to outright sad. “Is Jonah Conroy your father?”
That seemed like an odd question to ask before arresting her.
“Yeah?”
The man reached out and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. “I am so sorry. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”