My heart banged inside my chest. This was it.
I caught sight of Caleb in my peripheral vision as he stopped beside the Corolla, waiting to hop in.
“So,” Dean started then cleared his throat. He took a few steps closer. “I guess I’ll see you guys at work tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’ll be there, but Mer’s off.”
“Oh.” His eyes flitted over my shoulder where Mer was. When he shifted a single step to the side, I knew, and my heart sank, taking all my breath with it. “Is it okay if I text you, Mer?”
The world seemed to fade away for a moment, my mind not wanting to face reality. He liked her. Of course.
When Mer choked out a surprised stutter, I spoke without looking back. “Yeah, it’s okay for you to text her.”
“Cool. I’ll text you tomorrow then.”
And with that, I wrenched open the Corolla’s passenger door, vaguely registering movement outside as my body started to shake. I clamped my hands into fists to control myself. There was no way I’d fall apart over this. It had happened before and was one of those things that came with being Mer’s friend. She attracted a lot of attention with her classic looks and carefree personality. Besides, it wasn’t like I’d never dated anyone. I’d had a few dates. Though, it was my luck that it would happen again when I was going to make a first move for the first time.
The back door opened and Caleb hopped in while the Mazda started outside.
Mer opened her door and got in as Dean pulled away. She turned to me, but I only stared out the front windshield at the busted house, at its broken shutters and boarded windows.
“What the hell was that? I am not interested in—”
“Why not?” I asked, cutting her off. “He’s a great guy. He’s always nice to us at work.”
“C, you like him. I would never—”
“I know you wouldn’t. And that’s why I told him yes for you. I don’t mind. Honestly. But can we go, please? I don’t want to be late.”
After a long exhale, Mer glanced into her rearview at Caleb for a moment before starting the car. “All right.”
The ride was filled with a soft hum of music and just enough awkward tension to keep us all quiet. When she pulled into an open spot in front of my apartment building, I jumped out so fast I almost fell over. But before I could escape, Caleb was out of the backseat, grabbing my arm. His grip was so gentle, I was surprised I’d felt it at all. He dropped his hold as soon as I turned to look at him. Without a word, he held up his other hand. Pinched between his fingers was a single daisy.
“I’m calling you tomorrow,” Mer said through the open passenger door. “We’ll talk more about this. Don’t stress.”
I nodded even though she couldn’t see me then found Caleb’s eyes and took hold of the flower he offered.
“Night,” was all he said before slipping into the front seat and closing the door.
7
______________
Caleb
-now-
The beat-up silver Civic Celia had been driving since she’d graduated high school was already parked on the roadside when I arrived at the vacant lot. After pulling behind her car, I took a deep breath and glanced at the contract from the production company. My thoughts spun. I was still so numb from it all and could hardly believe that Celia agreed to revisit the list with me. It had taken me a couple of days to decide to do it myself and even a couple more before I had the guts to contact her.
Grabbing the GoPro, I thought about the production company’s offer. They were close with Mer, filmed all over the world with her for the channel. So they knew the idea all started with the senior year bucket list, knew about her will and what she’d wanted us do. Which was why they’d contacted me, asking if I’d be willing to film it all for her followers. It wasn’t in Mer’s request, but she would have approved, as a way to give everyone closure. The money that came with it was simply a bonus, one I planned to use to help expand my father’s company. Since Celia agreed to do the list as well, she’d get half. But after hearing her initial reluctance, it was best not to disclose all that information right away. She knew it was for Mer and her followers. That was the most important thing.
I looked at the silver and black speckled urn sitting at my side. Despite my numbness, feelings stirred inside. Love. Hate. Anger. Sadness. Mer had definitely made me feel it all. It was time to start releasing them and her.
Celia stood in the center of the empty lot, staring downward as I walked up behind her.
“There was Saturday traffic close to my place,” I said, and she turned around. She’d showered and dressed after refusing my offer to drive. Her hair was wrapped in a messy bun with damp loops and end pieces escaping at every angle. A fitted gray V-neck and tight jeans accentuated all her curves, and a pair of flats had replaced her once favored baby blue Chucks. The smell of her soap or shampoo carried through the air between us, and I inhaled. It was as fresh and delicate as I remembered from the wake. I had to close my eyes for a moment to collect myself, to push the memory of holding her out of my head. Though, when I opened my eyes to the empty field, the memory of the first true time I’d held her close jumped right into its place instead.
She blinked at me, snapping my thoughts back into focus. “There was a ruckus close to where I live. Little dealers and their weekend lemonade stands.”
Her lips parted and one corner twitched before she looked down at my full hands. “That’s a pretty urn. At the wake, I thought about how well it suited her.”
I held it out for her, and she tentatively wrapped her hands around the cool metal as if she were worried she’d drop it. “Mom picked it out. If Mer had, it probably would have had an inscription so she could have the final word.” When she remained quiet, I added, “You sure you’re okay with all of this?” The last thing I wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. Though, I guessed Mer wanted that for both of us. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have requested we relive it all. Maybe some things were meant to stay in the past.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she answered, then turned toward the overgrown grass. “When was the house torn down?”
“Two years ago, I think. It burned down, so the borough removed what was left. My mom told me about it, but I hadn’t seen it either. I don’t come over this way too often.” I studied the GoPro, checking the settings.
“You said you have your own place?”
“I rent a one-bedroom cottage on a farm. It’s closer to work. Dad upsized, moved out of the backyard shop. He leases a warehouse for both production and storage.”
“I think I recall Mer saying that a while ago. I didn’t talk long with your parents on Sunday, but I did wonder why the wood scent wasn’t as strong inside,” she said. “So you’re working for him again?”
“Yeah. After two years at the Altoona campus, I decided to get back to work and finish courses online. Did you finish at University Park?” My attention had fallen away from the camera and had refocused on her, watching the way her hands cradled the urn, how her eyes roamed the overgrown grass then shifted to the wooded area. She was avoiding me like she had inside her apartment, looking at anything else. I couldn’t blame her after what I’d done. Before she agreed to relive the list, she’d been prepared to never see me again. And damn, knowing that did hurt.
“Yeah. Bachelor of Design. Photography.”
“Right. Pretty sure Mer mentioned. What’s the gig then?”
“I, uh, work at an insurance company, actually. It’s the job I had through school, and I just kinda stayed.”
“Oh. Nice.” And that was where Brent worked too. I grimaced to the ground, wanting to ask more, to find out the reason she hadn’t left that job for something related to her degree. Was it him?
She cleared her throat and looked back at me. “So maybe we should get started if we wanna hit the school and somewhere else today.”
“Right,” I agreed, holding out the GoPro for her to take.
She handed me the urn first the
n grabbed hold of the camera. “How exactly is this working? Did they give you any direction at all?”
“To be as natural as possible. We can talk about Mer or the list as much or as little as we want as long as we at least explain the task. They can dub more audio later if needed and take care of the rest.”
“Is the GoPro the only equipment they gave you?”
“They gave me some other things. A small light attachment. A tripod. I doubt we’ll need any of it. And you’ll have to sign the release contract in my truck. If you want to have a lawyer take a look at it first, that’s no problem.”
She shook her head. “If Mer trusted them, if you trust them, I’m okay with signing.”
“Okay.” I gripped the urn tighter and took a deep breath.
“All right. Where do you want to do this one, right here? I need to switch the angle away from the direct sunlight.” She shifted around, suddenly struck with a purpose during this odd situation. The ease that washed over her was instant. All the stiffness left her muscles, loosening her rigid posture, dropping her tense shoulders. It was nice to see her behind a camera again. It was like we’d stepped back in time.
“Has it been a while?” I asked as she moved closer and then backed away, testing the position.
Her eyes lifted from the tiny screen on the back of the camera and narrowed. “Well, I am a little rusty, but I’m more than capable of handling this.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. It’s how you reacted. Maybe I misread …” Cue the awkward silence. Fuck. I shook my head.
“No, it’s fine. But yeah, it has been a while.”
“Well, it suits you like it always did. And if you’d be more comfortable using your camera, I’m sure they wouldn’t care. As long as the footage is good.”
After a couple blinks, she refocused on the task, and I heaved a sigh.
“All right. I think we can start. We don’t need a wide angle for this, so I switched the settings. I’m ready when you are.”
She lifted her hand to indicate she had started filming, and I jumped in.
“Hi. I’m Caleb Samuels. You all knew my sister, Merilyn, from watching her Adventure Life channel Nova’s Bucket List, which you’re probably watching this on.” After a pause and a deep breath, I continued, “I wish I didn’t have to be here right now, wish we didn’t have to say goodbye. But …” I held up the urn and pinched my lips together. “She wanted to have one last adventure with me and our friend, Celia, to revisit something that helped kick-start her obsession with adventure and her love of sharing it all with you.” I reached into my back pocket with my free hand and grabbed the notebook. “This is her senior year bucket list.”
8
______________
Celia
-now-
I felt so conflicted as I watched him speak to the camera. There was a part of me that had always loved him, as a friend and more. It was difficult to be so close and ignore the flutter in my stomach, the rush of heat through my body, the memories of his arms around me while he whispered into my ear and skimmed his lips along my neck. But I’d always hated him too. Hated the times he’d pushed me, taunted me, angered me, and most of all how he’d crushed me. And now, I hated him even more for making me feel like a piece of trash, another boyfriend thieving ho at his sister’s wake.
He was a natural in front of the camera, like Mer had been, as if he’d done it for years, as if it were his audience and not hers. He held his sadness in well, focusing more on the task of explanation and less on emotional reflection. I could still see it, though, the pain and the struggle to hold it all together behind his eyes.
But no matter how handsome he was or how much I longed to express my empathy, I couldn’t let myself be pulled into him again. Fool me once, fool me twice. It was high time I learned this damn lesson before I allowed my heart to be broken again.
Luckily, he’d offered me the chance to film most everything, except for the tasks I’d need to complete. Being behind the camera was not only better suited for me, but it allowed me to stay somewhat detached—from him, from the experience. I knew I lacked the strength he had and would likely crumble beneath the memories as soon as I tried to talk about them.
“So as you can see, the house is gone now. Because it’s a task Celia and I completed with Mer, we won’t be seeking out another abandoned place to visit. As she requested, we’re going to leave a little bit of her behind.” Caleb unscrewed the top of the urn and tipped it, allowing some of the ashes to fall.
Since there was no zoom on the GoPro, I tightened the shot by stepping closer, catching the beauty and the sadness of the moment as the tiny particles wafted down to the overgrown reedy grass.
After he screwed the top back into place and looked over the grounds, he turned back to me with a nod.
“That was good,” I said, clearing the emotional lump in my throat with a little cough. “Should we head to the school next then?”
He nodded, and we both walked away from the area where the house once sat, where I’d once thought I made the worst decision of my life. I changed my mind later, of course, after I’d been scorned. But now I knew it all happened for a reason, not that I had any idea of what that reason was anymore.
Our plan for the list was to handle most of the completed tasks first. Visit the places. Scatter the ashes. I’d hoped reliving those memories and having that time to adjust would help me prepare for the things I still had to accomplish. Those tasks would be harder to complete, and the memories even more challenging to face.
“Before I forget to grab it again, here’s the contract,” Caleb said, exiting his truck in Ellville High’s empty side lot and handing over a small stack of papers.
“Thanks.” I skimmed and signed, not wanting to delay things further. After handing it back, I stared across the parking area at the massive brick building where I’d spent four decently normal years of my life. They’d restyled the main entry with river rock accents around the pillars. Aside from that, it all looked the same. The lone beech tree at the corner of the parking lot had grown, though. “I don’t remember it being so tall.” The canopy was wide, shading the immediate area fully from the warm springtime sun.
“Kinda crazy how much can change in five years, right?” he said, stepping off the pavement, closer to the tree.
“Kinda crazy how much doesn’t,” I added, looking around.
“True.” His voice was almost a whisper, and I couldn’t bring myself to turn around to him.
Instead, I lifted the camera and filmed a sweeping shot of the high school’s main entrance. When I finally turned, his eyes were exactly where I thought they’d be. On me.
He blinked a few times then moved to the tree and spread a hand over the blue-gray bark. It should have been fairly smooth, but more carvings had been made.
“Whoa,” I murmured. “There are a lot more names there.”
“Yeah, the list sort of became a thing after you and Mer left. Many made their own. Some even tried to recreate ours, after either being with us for one of the tasks or hearing about it. I think the abandoned house was a casualty of that.”
“Really? I had no idea. Guess I kinda detached from here entirely after I left and my mom moved upstate to be closer to my grandparents again.”
“I remember, yeah. How is everyone?”
“Good. Nothing noteworthy. I visit when I have time off.”
“That’s great. Tell your mom hi for me?”
“Sure,” I agreed, stepping up to the tree. “I still find it weird that others jumped into the list idea. I suppose Mer’s channel taking off a year later helped too.”
“That played a part, but it had already started for the people who had been around us.”
“Did you do anything for your senior year?” I asked as I moved around to the opposite side of the trunk and stared up into the thick foliage. I recalled the day we carved our names. It was late fall, and the leaves had already turned from dark green to bright, blaz
ing shades of copper. In the early afternoon sunlight, after school had let out, we stood beneath the fiery leaves with little survival knives or screwdrivers from the toolbox of someone’s car and dug our names into the bark.
“I didn’t, no. There wasn’t much I wanted to do except play ball and work.” His voice sounded flat and distant, but I didn’t question it. I wondered, though, if he regretted what he’d done to me. Wondered if he’d thought about it as much as the spiteful part of me wanted him to.
I trailed my fingers along the bark, following the divots and ridges of names until I finally found Merilyn’s beside Dean’s. “Here she is.”
He walked around behind me silently, looking where I pointed. I stepped to the left and shifted my hand down, finding my own name alone with a small heart etched at the side. And over another step, below a few others, was a heart with the names Caleb and Marie. A junior footballer and his senior cheerleader.
“Should we get to this?” he asked, pulling my thoughts from the past.
“Yeah. I’ll move back a bit.” I took a few steps then held up my hand and started filming again, watching him adjust his shirt before beginning.
“So one of the smaller things on the list was to carve—”
“Caleb Samuels, is that you?” a voice yelled from the parking lot, making both of us turn. A stout silver-haired woman had her truck pulled behind our vehicles, her head stretching outside the window to talk.
“Uh, yeah, it’s me. Hi, Mrs. Katz.”
“Well, hey there, darlin’. Who you have there with ya? Anyone I know?”
Caleb glanced sideways at me with big eyes then turned back to the woman with a smile. “This is Celia. She was Merilyn’s friend in high school.”
“Oh, dear, yes. Oh, and I see you have the urn there. I’m so sorry for your loss. I won’t keep ya. Please tell your daddy that I’m still planning on buying that trellis so he best not sell it.”
“I’ll do that,” Caleb replied sweetly with a full smile.
As the woman waved and drove away, a dark blue sedan also pulled into the empty parking lot, slowing to see what was going on before continuing on their way.
Senior Year Bucket List Page 5