32. Caleb
Chapter 32
Caleb
“ W hy aren’t we going inside?” Eli asks me.
“You can go,” I say. “I’m waiting for Margo.”
He glares at me. “Margo, who’s arriving with Riley.”
They haven’t talked. Still . And while I’m curious, there have been other pressing concerns stealing my attention.
I exhale, watching my breath make little clouds.
“Okay, fine,” he snaps. “I’m going in.”
I flip him off.
He salutes me with his middle finger back, then saunters toward the building.
No sooner is he gone than Robert’s car arrives, and Margo climbs out. She grins when she sees me, and I pull her in for a kiss. Foster dad be damned.
She smiles when I linger.
“Let’s go in,” she says. “It’s freezing.”
“I thought you were getting a ride in with Riley?”
She shrugs. “She said she was running late. Not sure what she has planned.”
I roll my eyes. “Did she say she was planning something?”
“No, but she’s never late?—”
“Ms. Wolfe,” the guidance counselor calls. “Could you join me?”
I reluctantly release her. “I’ll see you in homeroom.”
She gives me a brave smile, then disappears into the office.
Savannah walks past, her fur coat held tightly closed in her hand. She has such a thick layer of makeup caked on her face, it’s like she’s wearing a mask.
She doesn’t acknowledge my presence, and my eyebrow jumps.
“Hey, man,” Liam calls.
We slap hands, and he yanks off his hat. His blond hair goes everywhere. He runs a hand through it, messing it up further, and I shake my head. Girls love that untamed look.
“Margo’s back?” he asks.
“They called her in.” I hook my thumb toward the office.
He grimaces. “She’s an old coot. You’re waiting?”
“Figured I would.”
He nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Kid gloves.”
I narrow my eyes. “What?”
“You’re treating her with kid gloves.” He shrugs, smiling innocently. “It’s okay. I’m sure Margo appreciates you not leaving her alone…”
I shake my head. “You’re just…”
Jealous?
No.
If anything, Liam’s attitude is more of a brotherly nature—to me and Margo. I try not to think about the time I walked in on them at the party. She was across the room from him, but still.
“It’s going to be a long week,” I say.
He laughs. “Yeah. See you in homeroom.”
Margo appears just as the bell rings. She sticks out her tongue. “So much for meeting you there, huh?”
I put my arm around her shoulders. As we walk, people part for us. They do it more for me than her, but judging from the glances she gets, I would say they’re curious about her. Word must’ve traveled quick.
“You know what’s interesting?” she asks under her breath. Without waiting for my answer, she continues, “Since you found me, I haven’t heard from our mystery stalker. Besides the writing on the walls—literally.”
I sigh. “Unknown called me right before the police came. Everything they’re doing is escalating.”
She shivers. “What’s next?”
More dead birds in her room?
My mood plummets. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
That’s a fucking promise.
The rest of the day passes quietly and quickly. Between the four of us, we keep tabs on Margo. Riley showed up after second period, seeming a bit worse for the wear, and she silently joins the team.
It isn’t like I think something is going to happen to her. I don’t. I just… am worried that I might be wrong.
I come up behind Margo and loop my arms around her waist, pulling her back against my front. She gasps, stiffening for a moment. Once she realizes it’s me, she relaxes.
My lips touch the tip of her ear. “Did I startle you?”
“No,” she lies.
I let her get away with it.
“It’s Robert’s first day back,” she says. “I wonder how he’s doing.”
“Well, we won’t have long to wait.” I close her locker, and together we walk to the art wing. Everyone has been more subdued, and I’m blaming it on my friends. God only knows who they threatened to make the entire school act… normal.
We slip into Robert’s classroom, and he shoots us a smile.
“Hey, guys,” he says. His desk is a wreck. Papers everywhere, folders, various tubes of paint and brushes. “How’s your day?”
“Peachy,” Margo answers. “You okay?”
“Oh, the substitute teacher probably wishes she had another week to get things more organized.” He rolls his shoulders back. “I’m just still trying to get everything sorted. Plus it’s the end of the year, and final projects are due. God, every year I think I should stagger the classes?—”
“Mr. Bryan!” one of his students squeals. They come in with a few others. “You’re back!”
“Yes, hello.” He motions for them to take their seats. “You, too, please.”
I take Margo’s hand and pull her toward the back of the room.
“He seems frazzled,” Margo whispers.
“I would be, too, if my desk looked like that.”
She hides her laugh behind her hand.
“We’re getting to the end of the semester.” Robert closes the door. “And I would like to take this opportunity to remind you that your final project, the portraits, are due at the beginning of next week. Can I see a show of hands to who’s already completed theirs?”
Half the hands in the room go up, including mine.
I was done a while ago. And in fact, Robert already graded it.
I didn’t breathe a word of that to Margo. I was already mostly done by the time I tried to hurt her relationship with the Bryans. It was only after, when she started standing up to me, that I revisited it. I changed a few things—the feeling behind it, but not necessarily anything physical.
For my first oil painting, I was impressed with myself. And I got an A on it, of course.
Margo frowns at my raised hand.
“What?” I mouth, holding back a smile.
I saw my eyeless self immortalized on the canvas yesterday, and I can imagine how conflicted she is. To paint me with a scowl? A dead look in my eye? It’s how most of the world sees me nowadays. But she’s always been able to see deeper.
And that’s where her struggle comes in.
Robert gives us an assignment, a bowl of fruit set up on a table in the center of our circle, and goes back to his desk.
It occurs to me that the end of the semester brings something else besides holidays and a weeklong break: college application deadlines.
I lean over to her as she’s putting paint on her palette. “Did you apply yet?”
“Did I apply for what?” She glances at me and pushes hair out of her face.
“School.”
“When would I have had time to do that?”
I roll my eyes. “You were out for over a week.”
“Because I had a head injury.” She readjusts her stool. “Seriously.”
“Don’t you want to go to NYU? There are other schools if you didn’t like that one?—”
“Listen. If I could have whatever I wanted, there’s another school I’d love to go to. It’s farther away, though. Even if I could afford tuition, maybe the Bryans would let me commute from here. That’s why NYU sounds like a good idea.” She shakes her head. “Haven’t we been over this? I can’t afford it, and I can’t ask the Bryans?—”
I narrow my eyes. “We’re going to talk about this dream school later. Because they’d give it to you. Anything you wanted.”
I mirror her earlier movements, putting little dabs of paint on my palette. It’s rough wood on the underside, old dried paint smoothing the top. A lot of other students took the plastic ones, but I prefer this. It doesn’t let me forget I’m holding it as it scrapes against my hand.
“I’d give it to you, too,” I add.
“You would not.”
I watch her until she spins her entire body toward me. She’s rigid, and her eyes are wide.
She’s cute when she’s alarmed.
“Caleb. You can’t waste money like that.”
“Do you know how much I’m inheriting?”
She pauses. “Why would I know that?”
“I’ll be a multimillionaire at eighteen, and I didn’t earn a penny of it. So if I want to pay for your education so you don’t have to graduate with debt, I’m going to.” I set my jaw.
She stares at me, and I realize… maybe she didn’t have any idea what I’m going to be receiving on my eighteenth birthday.
Four months to go , a voice in the back of my head whispers.
“Did I just scare you?” I ask.
She forces a laugh. “Me? No. No, I totally… expected it. You know, with the crazy uncle controlling your money and the house left empty and your mom not getting a penny. That makes perfect sense.”
“Mom did something,” I say. “Something that made Dad hold a grudge.”
“And I doubt she’d actually tell you, right?”
“Right.”
She shakes her head and turns back to the canvas. “If we both don’t even get our brushes dirty, Robert will ground me and send you…”
“To detention?” I smirk.
She grins. “Maybe.”
We lapse into silence, and I put my best effort into the bowl of apples and oranges. It passes the time quickly, and it feels like minutes later Robert is clapping, giving us the five-minute warning.
We pack away our things.
“Are you bringing me home?” she asks.
“We’re back to conditioning for hockey,” I say. “A five-mile run is in my future.”
She nods.
I snag her hand. “Maybe today would be a good day to go over my uncle’s house?”
Her eyes widen. “Really.”
“They’re out of town.” I grab my phone and pull up a photo my aunt posted on Facebook. The picture is of her and Uncle David on a beach somewhere. He’s moody—a remnant of his drowning modeling career—and she’s beaming.
“How can she look so… happy with him?”
I shrug. “I’m pretty sure she’s acting.”
She frowns.
I lean in close, until my nose touches hers. “As long as you never put on an act like she does, we’ll be okay.”
She sucks in a breath, and my heart skips. I could listen to her little reactions for the rest of my life and be happy.
Her dark eyes meet mine. “As long as you don’t put on your mask, we’ll be okay.”
“You just want me vulnerable.”
“Yep.” She pops the p , then winks.
The bell rings, and she flinches.
Students flood out into the hall, but we remain where we are. She takes a step back and crosses her arms. She’s trying to hide again, but I know she’s afraid to go into my aunt and uncle’s house.
“They’re gone. The house will be empty,” I reason. “And since I have practice…”
“God,” she moans. “I hate you.”
Robert clears his throat. “Are you waiting on me, kiddo?”
She spins around. “Oh, um, no. Riley is going to give me a ride. I think we’re going to do homework at her house.”
He smiles. “Okay. Just let Lenora know, okay?”
“Will do.”
I follow her down the hall and tug her to a stop outside of the athletic wing. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Right.”
“I’m just going to get changed. We’ll discuss this in a few minutes.”
She nods curtly, and I leave her standing there. She’ll need to be brave—but I have a feeling Riley will be able to help with that.
Besides, we need answers.
I get changed quickly, meeting up with Theo. Eli and Liam are in the far corner.
“Eli said he wasn’t in the mood for whatever bullshit I had in mind,” Theo says. “So, you’re with me.”
Lucky me.
“What suicide run are we doing today?” I ask, lacing my sneakers.
He just grins.
Coach walks into the locker room, pounding on one of the metal doors to get our attention. “Remember: do not run alone. I want five miles, and you log what time you come back on this sheet. Got it?”
“Yes, Coach,” we all call.
“Great. Now get out of here.”
I flip off Eli as they leave. He returns the gesture, laughing.
“We need to make a pit stop,” I tell Theo.
His eyebrows go up, but he says nothing. We shove the door open and head around the building. It’s easy to spot Margo and Riley by her car.
Margo clutches her jacket tighter around her, frowning at me. “It’s freezing out here.”
I shrug. “We need to get in shape.”
Coach’s voice in the distance drifts closer on the wind. I would’ve thought he’d stay inside, but I guess he wants to make sure we actually run. Theo and I need to get moving before he spots us chatting—otherwise we’ll end up with another two miles on our plate.
I tilt her face toward me and steal a kiss. She rises on her toes, trying to deepen it, and I grin against her lips. “I have to go.”
She huffs. “Fine. I’ll see you later.”
I stuff a folded envelope in her hand. It has the key to my aunt and uncle’s house, as well as the code to their alarm system.
“Tonight,” I promise. I’m going to take her on an actual date—nice clothes, flowers. The whole thing. I’ll pick her up and take her to the fancy restaurant, and we’ll drink fizzy cider and pretend its champagne. It’s a surprise I’ve been holding on to for a few days now, and I’m proud of myself for not ruining it.
After all, we deserve a spot of happiness in our senior year.
“Come on,” Theo groans.
I touch her cheek, smiling to myself, and turn away. That kiss will keep me warm.
Theo and I head off, quickly finding a pace that both of us can sustain.
“I’m thinking the old mill road,” he says.
It’s a dirt road, winding and long, with a giant hill in the middle.
Kind of perfect… kind of awful. At least it’s cold enough that we won’t sweat to death. The snow is gone from the roads, but there are still thick patches of it coating the grass. My breath puffs out in front of my face.
This is the worst. I’d rather be bag skating—hockey’s version of torturous sprinting on repeat—than this. But here we are.
I grunt, then catch his grin out of the corner of my eye. Bastard .
Coach’s one rule is that we have to stay together. It’s why I don’t generally run with Liam—he likes to go slow, then sprint toward the end. Eli and I run best together, but Theo… when I need a push, he’s my guy.
Even now, he speeds up a bit.
I lengthen my stride to match his long one. “I’m gonna be in pain by the time this is over.”
“That’s why I like this route,” he tells me. “Once we get over the hill, it’s all downhill. The first half is just a bitch.”
“Speaking of bitches…”
He rolls his eyes. “Nice segue.”
“Have you heard anything about Amelie?” I ask. “I never thought to ask her how she knew about Margo’s mom.”
He nods. “Right. She knew where Amber was staying.”
“Kind of a weird thing for her to know…” I roll my shoulders back.
We turn onto the dirt road. It takes us a few strides to adjust to the new texture under our feet, and both of us slow a fraction.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
“Matt knew people from Emery-Rose,” I reason. “So it wouldn’t be crazy to think Unknown goes to our school.”
“But…”
“But my top suspect was Amelie, since she has her sticky fingers in everything. It wouldn’t have been a stretch for her to tell Savannah to send the picture of Ian and Margo to me. She’s since left the freaking country.”
“What are you and Margo going to focus on once this is over?”
I glance at him. “You and your love life, of course.”
He bursts out laughing. “Fuck you, man.”
“Come on. You don’t think you and?—”
He elbows me. “Other people need more immediate help. Like Eli. Or Liam.”
“Truth.”
Liam has a quiet fixation on his neighbor. He never talks about her, though. I think she broke his heart when they were younger. So he’s hopeless. And I don’t know what’s going on with Eli and Riley. They’re just fucking around, I think.
And Theo is miserably obsessed with Amelie’s social outcast sister.
It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad.
We quit talking and focus on running. We’ve reached the hill, and it’s taken us almost thirty minutes to get here.
I check my watch, which tracks distance, and groan when I see we’ve already run four miles. I’m going to kill him for almost doubling our running distance—but it’s too late to turn back now.
Both of us are breathing hard by the time we make it to the top a few minutes later, and I motion to stop. I bend over, elbows on my thighs, and suck in air.
“That was like a mile-long hill,” I gasp. “Fucking hell.”
There’s a reason I don’t come this way. It’s also the reason Theo’s in better shape than I am—he runs this route a lot . Eli and I prefer flatter roads.
“You gonna live?” Theo asks.
I shake my head, tempted to flop over. “Maybe not.”
He slaps my back. “Walk it off.”
And then he takes off, continuing down the road. At a walk, at least. But still.
I catch up to him easily enough, sucking in deep breaths. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
“That’s the spirit.”
And off we go.
We’re near the bottom of the hill when a car comes up behind us. We scoot to the side, Theo jogging directly in front of me.
I move farther over when the car behind me doesn’t pass us. There’s a whole stretch of road to our left, but… some drivers are weird. Overly cautious.
The vehicle comes up next to us, keeping pace until I glance over at them.
Margo’s foster sister.
She waves at me, frantic, until Theo and I stop. The car shoots ahead of us, then the taillights illuminate. The car rocks to a stop.
“The fuck?” Theo says.
I walk up to the passenger window, my brow furrowing. “Claire?”
“Caleb, I’ve been trying to find you! Margo was in an accident. Lenora asked me to come find you. You weren’t answering your phone…” She covers her mouth with her hand and shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”
My stomach drops into my feet. My phone is safely tucked in my gym bag in the locker room. And I just left Margo not too long ago.
“Is she okay?”
“I don’t know.” Her eyes fill with tears. “They wouldn’t tell us anything.”
I glance up and down the street, but it’s quiet. The need to get to her is insane, spiking adrenaline through my system. I could run back to school, but we’re almost two miles out.
“Go,” Theo says, reading my mind.
I yank her door open and slide inside.
She gasps. “What are you doing?”
“They took her to the hospital?”
“Y-yes.”
“Take me there,” I urge. “Please.”
She hits the gas, and I’m thrown back against the seat. I pull my seat belt on and turn toward her, ignoring the guilt I feel at leaving Theo alone. It’s against the rules, but this trumps Coach’s stupid rules.
“Claire. The hospital?”
She blinks, wiping the tears off her cheeks. “She never saw it coming.”
“You didn’t say what happened. Or how.” The car is picking up speed. My stomach is in knots.
The hospital is ten minutes away from here, fifteen at the most.
Where did Margo get hurt? It must’ve been closer to the hospital than here.
When Claire doesn’t answer, I look around the car. It’s clean to the point of newness. Not a speck of dust on the dash or the floor. The fabric mats are free of dirt—except what’s come off from my shoes.
I almost feel bad leaning on her leather seats. Sweat rolls down my chest under my sweatshirt, and my back is soaked.
Who runs in the middle of winter? I can hear Margo’s voice in my head.
“Was it Riley’s car?” I ask. “Did she get in a car accident?—”
Two in one month? What would the odds be on that?
Or maybe it was Unknown. They could’ve taken her. Something more violent, like with a gun?—
Claire glances at me, then away. “You care about her so much. How? She told me how you hated her when she started school.”
I shake my head. “Hate is temporary. Love…”
We pause at the stop sign, and her grip on the wheel flexes.
“Love,” she repeats. Sighs. “That is just… the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
There’s a moment when I think she might be up to something. Left is the hospital, and right… the road to the right goes out of town. Away from Rose Hill and toward the freeway.
“You love her, too.”
When did I become a person who discussed love ? It’s easy to see the way Claire cares. She came all the way out here to find me, after all. Why do that if not for Margo’s sake?
She shakes her head. “A foster sibling’s relationship is complicated. Sometimes I think she hates me. But, as you said—hate is temporary.”
She turns left.
“Lenora and Robert—did they get to the hospital already?” I probe. “How did you find out?”
“I was there for bloodwork.” She pushes the sleeve of her sweater up, showing me the rolled gauze taped to the inside of her elbow. “Happened to see them all rush in, and Lenora and I had met before. They didn’t want to leave her.”
“Right.”
She lets out a ragged breath. “I just hope she’s okay.”
“Me, too,” I murmur. I look out the window and will Claire to drive faster. I could be nice and ask her about herself—when she’d learned to drive when Margo still hadn’t, where her sister is, how she found me on a random side road miles from school…
But instead, I keep my mouth shut and just hope that whatever happened to Margo, she’s still fighting.
I’m coming for you, Margo .