CAELA
“What’re your plans for New Year’s?” Bonnie asked as they walked past the bank, long since closed for the night.
There were hardly any cars on the road at this hour, even on a Saturday night.
Anyone who wanted to be enjoying a night out had driven to the next town over, where there were actually places open past nine o’clock.
“Good answer.”
“Assuming I’m around, at least. My parents talked about wanting to take a trip down to Gatlinburg, but the idea of being stuck in a cabin in the mountains with them, in the middle of winter, makes me want to shrivel up and die.”
“Ugh. Yeah. Better come up with some excuse to get out of it.”
“They’ll never let me stay in the house by myself that long, and I don’t have anyone else to stay with,” Caela said.
“Don’t be stupid, Cae.” Bonnie picked up a rock and tossed it at someone’s reindeer yard decoration. “You can stay with me.”
“Really?”
“Of course.” She reached over and flicked the little dagger earring in Caela’s ear. “My mama’s pretty much never home, so it ain’t like she’ll care. You can crash on my couch.”
“Thanks. I … I really appreciate that.”
Bonnie had pretty much become Caela’s entire world over the past few months, and the friendship they’d formed had consumed her.
Bonnie was the only person who smiled at her in this whole town and actually meant it, the only person who wanted her around, her escape from the judgmental glares of her stepfather or the scolding of her mother.
Even the neighbors whispered about Caela.
They’d all heard she was a troublemaker, probably straight from her mother and Rob themselves.
Caela spent as much time with Bonnie as she could. She skipped classes to hang out with her. She lied about how late she had to work so they could hang out after. And when they weren’t together, there was a constant string of calls and texts to keep them connected.
But this was the first time Bonnie had invited her to her home.
Even if it was a hypothetical, a scenario to occur only if Caela’s family were going out of town and would allow her to stay behind, it still meant something.
Considering how unwelcome she felt in her current home, knowing there was a house where she’d be warmly invited in was like a light at the end of a tunnel.
Some piece of comfort to cling to like a life raft.
Before Caela could say anything more, though, or tell her how much that offer meant, Bonnie was holding out an arm to stop Caela from walking any farther.
“What is it?”
“Check it out,” she whispered, pointing ahead to a driveway with a black Honda sitting in it. “Y’know who lives there, right? Whose car that is?”
Caela shook her head.
“Mr. Linman.”
“The high school principal?”
“Yeah. Always hated that guy.” She moved forward, approaching the Honda. “I doubt you’re a fan, either.”
A couple of lights in the house were still on, but the porch light was off.
Caela had learned that, around here, that was a sign that the family was heading to bed and no longer accepting guests.
At least, that’s what Rob said. Caela never really understood that in a time when everyone had cell phones and, as far as she knew, called ahead of a visit anyway.
“Ha!” Bonnie turned to her, half crouched by the window of the Honda with a huge grin on her face. “Idiot left his keys inside.”
Caela shrugged. “I’ve seen a lot of people do that around here. Guess it’s a pretty safe neighborhood.”
“Not while we’re in it.” Bonnie reached down and gently tugged on the handle of the car door.
“What are you doing?”
“Wanna go for a joyride?”
“What? Bonnie, I have a car. If we wanna go somewhere, we can go back to the parking lot and get Jennette—”
“It’s not a joyride if it’s your own car,” Bonnie said, eyes rolling as if this was the most obvious statement in the world. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“I don’t know, Bonnie.”
She laughed, pulling the car door open and sliding into the driver’s seat. Caela glanced at the house again, but nothing had changed inside. It didn’t seem like anyone was paying attention, and the street was quiet.
“Don’t be going soft on me now, Cae. Not after everything you’ve already done,” Bonnie said. “I know you’re cool. You wouldn’t be my bestie if you weren’t. Let’s have a little fun at the tyrant’s expense. Get in.”
It was true that Caela didn’t like Mr. Linman.
She’d been called into his office a few times, and he’d seemed nice enough at first, asking why she was skipping class, if something was wrong.
But when she’d tried to explain how miserable she was, how some of the other students treated her and how the guidance counselor dismissed her, he’d dropped the friendly facade.
It became clear she was nothing more to him than an inconvenience, and she wished so badly he’d been the one who had to scrub her words off the side of the school building.
But Caela didn’t care about Mr. Linman just then. She did care what Bonnie thought of her. And Bonnie thought Caela was cool. She wanted to prove her right.
So Caela jogged over to the passenger’s side, yanked the door open, and climbed inside.
“Heck yeah! Let’s go!” Bonnie slammed her own door shut, started the ignition, and peeled out of the driveway with tires squealing so loud Caela knew there was absolutely no way the family inside the house wouldn’t hear.
Which was why it wasn’t exactly surprising when, twenty minutes later, they were being pulled over by the police, handcuffed, and placed in the back of two separate squad cars.
Bonnie was no stranger to the local police and found the whole thing hilarious.
Caela, on the other hand, had never been in real trouble before, and she was terrified.
Mr. Linman decided not to press charges since the car wasn’t damaged.
But Caela’s mother wasn’t nearly so forgiving.
After the officer brought her home and left her in the living room with her mother and Rob, they spent a solid twenty minutes screaming at her.
Both of them were in their pajamas, having already been asleep.
Caela sat on the sofa, staring down at her lap and staying quiet, as she always did when they went off like this. Usually they’d calm down after a bit and send her to her room, where she’d hide out until the next day. But that wasn’t what happened this time.
“I want you out of my house.”
Caela looked up, surprised, at Rob, who was pointing a shaking finger at her. “Wait, what?”
“You heard me. I want you out!”
Caela looked over at her mother, somehow expecting her to laugh or shake her head, saying it was a joke. Not that she’d ever heard either of them tell a single joke in the months she’d lived with them. But she couldn’t fathom that they’d really kick her out. Not after Dad.
But her mother said nothing. She wouldn’t even look at Caela. She just silently nodded at Rob’s words.
Behind her, Caela saw a flicker of movement from down the hall. Sam must’ve woken up and slipped out of his bedroom to listen. Somehow, that was the worst part of all this.
“But … where am I supposed to go?” she asked.
“That’s not our problem,” Rob said. “We’ve shown you a kindness letting you stay here, even with all the trouble you cause. But we’re done.”
“A kindness? Not your problem? She’s my mother.”
Rob raged on, ignoring her. “In all the years we’ve been in this town, we’ve never had the police at our door. And we’re never going to again. Because you’re leaving. Tonight.”
“Tonight?” Caela gasped.
“You heard me. Tonight.”
Again, Caela looked to her mother. She was shaking now, a lump rising in her throat as she began to panic. “Mom?” she whispered, desperate for her to step in, to say something, to show some sense of motherly instinct toward her for once in her life.
But her mother shook her head. “We can’t have you setting this kind of example for Sam,” she said. “I’m sorry, Michaela. You need to go.”
Caela looked between them. “I … I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, I promise. Please don’t make me go.”
But they didn’t answer.
They didn’t say anything to her at all after that. Just sat on the sofa in the living room, refusing to go back to bed until they were sure she was gone.
Caela’s eyes itched and her face burned as she moved around her room, gathering up as much of her clothing as she could and packing it into garbage bags, but she did not cry.
All the while, she kept calling Bonnie. The police would have taken her home, too.
She was sure she’d let her stay at her place.
She was Caela’s best friend, after all. She was the reason Caela was in this situation.
But the phone rang and rang, and Bonnie never answered. So Caela sent her a text message.
Can you please call me?
“Michaela?”
She turned around and found Sam, in his Clifford pajamas and fuzzy red socks, standing in the doorway, watching her with his big brown eyes.
“You’re not really going, are you?” he asked.
She could feel a lump rising in her throat and forced it back down. “I’m sorry, buddy. I think I am.”
“Why?”
“Because I made your mom and dad really mad,” she said.
“Did you say sorry?” he asked. “Maybe you can stay if you say sorry.”
“I tried. But—”
“Sam?” Her mother appeared behind him, eyes never even looking at Caela as she placed a hand on her son’s shoulder. “You should be in bed, sweet boy. Say goodbye to Michaela.”
Sam’s lower lip quivered, and it broke Caela’s heart. That, by far, was the thing that made her feel the guiltiest.
“Bye, Michaela,” Sam mumbled as their mother led him away. It took everything in Caela not to throw one of her schoolbooks across the room in an outburst of emotion. She finished tying up the garbage bags and put her camera in its case.
She was out on the front porch, in the chilly night air, by the time Bonnie finally replied to her text.
Kinda busy. What’s up?
Caela quickly typed, They kicked me out because of what happened tonight.
Oof. That sucks.
She waited for a beat, but Bonnie didn’t text anything else. So she asked, Can I come crash on your couch? Please?
It was a few minutes before Bonnie replied. I’m actually not home. After the cops dropped me off, I went out to see Jay.
Jay was the latest of Bonnie’s creepy jerk boyfriends. They’d only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks, so Caela was surprised—and crushed—by Bonnie’s reply when she asked her to come back to help her.
Wish I could, but I told Jay I’d hang here.
Caela stared down at her phone. She was being kicked out of her home. Bonnie knew what had happened to her dad, knew that she had no real relationship with her grandparents, who were the only other family she had, knew that she had nowhere to go.
And Bonnie was picking a boy she barely knew and barely liked over her?
Maybe she didn’t understand or thought Caela’s mother and Rob weren’t serious. So she tried to call again. And again Bonnie didn’t answer. And after that, she didn’t reply to a single text message, either.
Caela felt eyes on her. Turning around, she found Rob staring at her from the kitchen window, arms folded over his chest and glaring. Her mother was nowhere to be seen. Caela wondered if she’d gone to bed, not even bothering to stay awake to watch her child drive off.
Caela hoped that she felt guilty, sending her only daughter away with nowhere to go.
But that seemed unlikely.
Caela threw her possessions into Jennette’s trunk and slid into the driver’s seat. Then she just sat there, frozen, because she wasn’t even sure which direction she’d turn once she pulled out of the driveway.
She looked at her phone again. She hadn’t spoken to Eliza in nearly two months.
Even if she had, Eliza lived in a tiny two-bedroom house with both her parents and her older brother.
They wouldn’t have room for her. And Grady had already asked his parents if she could live with them back in the summer, before she left Ohio, and they’d said no.
Even if that was an option, the idea of being their third wheel—constantly being reminded that they’d kept how they felt about each other from her, that they’d waited until she was gone to get together and then all but forgotten her—was too painful to even consider.
Her grandparents were old and just as strict and rigid as her mother.
Her dad had told her plenty of stories about how eager he’d been to move out as soon as he was eighteen, and she knew they’d barely spoken after that.
They’d be just as disappointed in her as her mother was, if they even took her in at all.
Bonnie was all she had left.
And her “bestie” was seemingly ignoring her at her lowest, most vulnerable point since her dad’s death.
When Rob started flashing the porch lights—as if trying to remind Caela that she could not, in fact, live in the driveway forever—she finally set the phone aside and picked a direction at random.
East. She’d drive east.
All Caela could think as she tossed the dagger earring out the car window at two in the morning was that it was her fault.
Her fault that she’d let her mother down, let Sam down—maybe even let Bonnie down somehow, though she wasn’t sure what she’d done to disappoint her.
It was her fault she’d drifted away from Eliza and Grady.
It was her fault she had no one and nowhere to go.
Caela was a failure. She was a disaster.
And that was why she was alone.