by Amy Sparling
His ex-girlfriend grabs his arm and tugs his attention away from me. She says something to him and then runs her hands through his hair, shaping it into a bigger version of a side-sweep. Then she cups his cheeks in her hand and says something that makes her laugh.
I look back at my food, wishing the sight of them together didn’t send a wide array of emotions through my heart. He deserves someone better than her. He also deserves someone better than me. He just deserves…better.
I shove my food away, unable to eat anymore with the turmoil that’s bubbling up in my stomach. April fills the silence with stories from her Home Ec. class, and I shove my progress report deep in my backpack so I don’t have to look at it anymore.
I try to go back to being excited for my date on Friday, but knowing I’ll have to see Jonah after school today makes me feel sick to my stomach.
Just before the final bell rings, I take out my phone and look up Jonah’s number. He’d given it to me on our first day of tutorials in case I ever needed to reach him. So far, we haven’t texted at all, but I send him one now.
Me: Sorry I can’t make tutorials today. Something came up
Jonah: no prob. See you Thursday
Well, I think, as I stare at the first new text I’ve had all day. At least he doesn’t seem to mind.
Chapter 16
If the human brain is supposed to be this glorious organ capable of sending a man to the moon and curing smallpox, why can’t my mind work properly? All it does is think about my date with Caleb. Before that, all it did was think about Jonah. And then the store.
The phrase “one track mind” applies here, I think. Maybe it’s the teenage hormones. Maybe I’m just broken. But as I sit in class trying to work on these extra credit assignments, my hand just hovers the pencil over the first problem. It doesn’t write anything. I read the words over and over but they don’t make any sense because I’m not focusing. My mind is a train stuck on one track and that track is Caleb Brown.
In the hallways between classes, I can barely function like a normal human because I’m constantly wondering if he’ll find me again, lean against the lockers and chat with me. Or better, if he’ll walk with me to my next class. I close my eyes and think of the smell of him, how it’s a little overpowering but still good.
Then it makes me think of Jonah and how he smells better. I grit my teeth and try to ignore that. Jonah may smell better, but Caleb is popular, handsome, and he likes me. We’re going on a date. That is all that matters.
I don’t see him all day, except for during lunch where he’s at his normal table. April encourages me to go say hello but that would be like telling a deer to go say hi to a group of starving lions. I’m not that stupid.
Disappointment stings, but I try not to think about it. Maybe this is protocol for going on dates. You don’t really hang out until after the date. Too bad that’s three days away.
On Wednesday, things aren’t any better. April can probably tell that I’m feeling weird because she talks the entire time we walk to school and then she talks all through lunch, and she texts me jokes and stupid photos while I’m in class to make me feel better. But another day of being totally ignored by Caleb really gets to me and I’m starting to question if he ever asked me out or not. Maybe I tripped and fell in the hallway that day, banging my head on the wall. Maybe I was hallucinating that Caleb walked up being all unbelievably sexy and leaned against the lockers and asked me out for Friday. Maybe it was all just a dream.
I know that’s mostly just the paranoid part of my brain talking, because there’s no way I could have hallucinated so realistically, but it’s enough to keep me from approaching Caleb myself. Because after all, he asked me on a date and then hasn’t sought me out again. Maybe I did imagine it.
And since my one track mind has been remarkably stuck on thoughts of Caleb, I text Jonah again telling him I can’t make tutorials on Thursday. He doesn’t reply right away like he did last time I blew him off, and it gets me worried that maybe he’s in the library waiting on me. April and I have nearly walked all the way home when he finally writes back.
Jonah: okay
Single word texts are the worst. I stare at my phone as I walk into my house and toss my backpack on the couch. Tomorrow is my date with Caleb, so I should spend today working on as much extra credit worksheets as humanly possible for the next hour until I head to the store and give Mom a break from work.
But extra credit work is what someone who was responsible would do. I can’t seem to find the energy. I keep staring at my phone, wishing Jonah had said something—anything—else. I don’t know why. It makes no sense, but I want him to talk to me. I want us to feel like we’re back to normal so I can go back to tutorials and actually learn something.
I make a PB&J sandwich and eat it quickly while staring at my phone. Finally, I break. I have to say something.
Me: Don’t worry about the missed tutorial. I’ll just go to Saturday detention to make up my time.
Jonah: No need…I signed in for both of us today and told the librarian we were studying outside.
I stare at the phone, nearly choking on my Diet Coke.
Me: You covered for me?
Jonah: of course. That’s why I’m such a good tutor.
Me: kind of sounds like you’re a terrible tutor… ;-)
Jonah: okay, terrible tutor but good friend.
My heart warms and I read his texts over again to make sure I didn’t interpret them wrong. He lied to the school administration so that I’d still be counted as present for detention. I don’t have to make up an additional day because of him. He called himself my friend.
I can’t get the stupid grin off my face until Friday morning, when I wake up nervous as hell about my date tonight. Even though it won’t take place until after school, I still agonize over what to wear from my closet, and it makes me ten minutes late to meet with April in the morning. I’ve decided on a pair of skinny jeans, black converse, and a black V-neck tee that somehow makes my boobs look bigger while simultaneously just being a plain shirt that makes it look like I’m not trying.
But I’m so trying.
I just know this is the day that Caleb will finally come talk to me in class. I take my time in the hallways, lingering around so that I’m easy to spot should he be looking for me.
But he never is.
Or maybe he never finds me.
The day blows by in a way that is both fast and slow. My classes seem to take forever, but before I know it, the final bell has rang and I’m meeting April after school to walk home. I look all around for Caleb in the parking lot. If he’s going to offer to give us a ride again, it’d be today, right?
“You freaking out about your date?” April says the moment she finds me waiting at our usual spot.
“Is it that obvious?” I ask.
She shrugs as she falls into step with me. “It’s a big deal, dating a popular jock. I’d be freaking out, too.”
“I’m starting to wonder if I just imagined it,” I say with a sigh as I give up on scouting the parking lot. “Why would a guy ask me out one day and then not talk to me for the rest of the week?”
“Because he’s nervous?” April says.
I bark out a laugh. “Yeah right. Caleb Brown nervous of dating me? Never in a million years.”
“Give yourself some credit,” she says. “He asked you out after all. That’s something.”
I take a deep breath and try to have some confidence. “I guess so.”
***
As much as I try to fight it, the tears start to pour from my eyes at 8:15. It’s been one hell of a Friday night, and any confidence I tried to have earlier today has been shattered, ripped, and torn until there’s absolutely nothing remaining. Caleb hasn’t called me. Hasn’t texted me. Hasn’t sent a carrier pigeon.
I left Mom to work the store by herself tonight while I got ready for my date, only to realize that the date wasn’t happening. Mom closed up at six and came back home, a
te dinner, and started watching a movie with a glass of wine, all while I’ve been sitting here on my bed staring out the window. I guess I hoped that maybe Caleb would just show up for our date without calling first. It could happen.
Of course it didn’t.
He forgot.
Or maybe he never meant it.
Maybe it really was a hallucination.
Whatever the case, I’m crying now. Hot tears roll down my cheeks, splashing on the silk tank top I’d put on for a date that isn’t happening. I know it’s messing up my makeup but there’s no point in caring about that now. I’ve been stood up.
My phone buzzes a few minutes later. Probably April, wondering how the date is going. My cheeks burn as I think about how I’ll tell her. This is so embarrassing.
When I check the text, it’s not from April.
Caleb: you ready?
I swallow and quickly wipe away my tears. It’s 8:30 at night, but it’s still technically Friday. My heart pounds as I think about what to write back. Did he forget about me and then remember last minute? Or is going out this late just what the cool kids do?
Me: For what?
Caleb: ha ha. Be there to pick you up in five mins
I jump out of bed. Maybe this is normal. Maybe the popular jocks always go out on dates at 8:30 on Fridays. Was I just feeling sorry for myself for nothing? Who cares! There’s no freaking time to think about this.
I rip off my tear-soaked silk shirt and put on another one, a dark blue tight fitting shirt that shows a little cleavage. I run to the bathroom and touch up my makeup and then grab my purse and wait by the door.
Mom looks over at me, pausing her movie. “You’re still here? I thought you had a date.”
“I’m about to leave,” I say, throwing my hair over my shoulder. It’s important to act casual now because if Mom suspects that I’ve just been upstairs crying, she’ll probably want to talk about it. “The movie starts late,” I explain with a smile even though I have no idea what we’re doing tonight. The movies are a possible option, though, and they do have late movies. Maybe I was worried for nothing.
“Well don’t invite him in,” Mom says, tugging her bathrobe closer around her chest. “I’m not fit for company.”
Fine by me, I think. Meeting the parents is always so awkward. A few minutes later, I see headlights pull into our driveway, so I tell Mom bye and dash outside. Caleb grins at me from the driver’s side of his truck. Some of the knots in my stomach fade away. I don’t know what I was so worried about.
I reach for the passenger door handle just as the door pops open on its own.
Then I realize it wasn’t accidental—someone from the backseat leaned forward and opened it. “Hi,” I say as I climb into the car. There are two football players in the backseat, both smelling like body wash and liquor.
“Sup, little mama?” one of them says.
I turn to Caleb, a questioning look in the smile I give him. “Natalie, these idiots are Jeremiah and JT. Don’t let them hit on you, you’re with me tonight.”
His grin warms me up inside and I want to make all of the truck’s air vents blow on my face to cool me down. So we’re not alone. That’s okay. He’s just claimed me as his, which is kind of hot.
I buckle up and tell myself to act cool as he pulls out of the driveway and heads toward downtown Sterling.
“You have a good week?” he asks me. I nod. He nods back. “Cool.”
We go to the arcade, which is like part restaurant, part bar, part arcade games. There’s five more guys from the team there and it seems like they’ve already been drinking despite not being old enough to order anything at the bar.
Caleb introduces me to the guys and then promptly gets into a battle of air hockey with one of them, leaving me standing awkward and alone.
It goes on like this all night. Caleb and his friends play arcade games, loudly cheering and messing with each other. I play a few games just to fit in, but I’m not having fun. This is not a date. I don’t even know what this is.
I don’t really have a curfew since I’m never out very late and my mom is pretty relaxed about stuff like that, but when it’s nearly midnight, I decide to make my escape from this shitty night.
“Hey,” I say, tugging on Caleb’s arm. He’s focused on the intense game of foosball in front of him because he’s supposed to play whoever wins this round.
“You hungry?” he says, putting an arm on my lower back. He glances at me for just a second and then looks back at the game. That’s how it’s been all night. The only time we talk is if he’s asking if I want something. He did buy me a drink and some cheese fries earlier, but then he hung out with his friends instead of eating with me.
I shake my head. “It’s getting late. I think I’ll head home.”
“I drove you,” he says, dipping his head as he grins at me. “You can’t get home without me.”
“Oh…um…” Why hadn’t I thought of that? “I’ll just call someone to get me,” I say. “No big deal.”
“Absolutely not,” Caleb says. He bops me on the nose with his finger. “Let’s go.”
Then he takes my hand and leads me through the arcade. I get this thrill of nerves in my stomach at the feeling of his hand on mine. Besides a few hand touches on my back, this is all the attention I’ve gotten from him tonight. We round the corner of a large video game and suddenly he’s pulling me into a darkened area that leads to the employee breakroom.
“Been meaning to do this all night,” he says, grabbing my face in his hands.
“Do what?” I say stupidly.
That’s when he kisses me.
Chapter 17
Caleb’s lips are soft and taste like the Dr. Pepper he drank earlier. There’s a hint of stubble on his jaw that scratches against my cheek as he kisses me. I feel it prickling my skin in this delightful way and I’m partially wondering why my brain thinks all these things during my first kiss with the guy I like, and I’m partially freaking out because Caleb Brown is kissing me.
He’s a rough kisser, pressing his lips to mine as if he’s determined to prove something. I close my eyes and kiss him back, using my limited knowledge on how to do this. His hands are on my sides, and then my back presses against the wall that smells a little like cotton candy.
When he pulls back for air, he gives me this devilish grin. “I’ve waited all night to do that.”
I’m still stunned from the kiss, so I don’t say anything.
Caleb’s tongue flicks across his bottom lip and then he leans forward, slowly moving toward me. My stomach flutters at his nearness, and then his lips are on mine, soft this time. His hand slides down my waist and stays there, resting just above the waistband of my jeans. “You want to go back to my house for a little bit? My parents aren’t home.”
My breath hitches. I’m not an idiot and I know what he means. As much as I like him, I definitely want to keep making out behind a wall of arcade games. But I don’t want to go back to his house with him alone…and do the things that boys expect when you’re alone.
“Um,” I say, suddenly more nervous than I’ve ever been in my life. If I say no, he won’t like me anymore.
“Dude!” Jeremiah shoves Caleb’s shoulder. “There you are! Shit, man, I’ve been looking everywhere.”
“What’s up, man?” Caleb asks, straightening and dropping his hold on me.
“I need a ride home,” Jeremiah says, looking at his cell phone. “Like, now. My mom’s pissed about some shit, I don’t know.”
Caleb looks at me and frowns. “Looks like we have to leave anyway.”
Saved by the drunken jock, I think as I look at the time on my watch. “Actually, I should probably get back too.”
“Okay,” he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I breathe a sigh of relief because he doesn’t seem upset that I’ve managed to slip out of his offer to go back to his house.
Jeremiah reeks of alcohol which flows up from the backseat of Caleb’s truck and stings my nos
e. He spends the whole time talking about how he’s a better air hockey player than anyone at the arcade. Caleb says that my house is closer, so he takes me home first, and I’m kind of grateful for it. This whole night has been one confusing weird mess. First, Caleb ignores me all week and then he ignores me most of the night until he randomly decides to kiss me. I don’t know what to make of that. I kind of can’t wait to get into my bed and process everything that’s happened.
When he pulls into my driveway, he leans over and kisses me on the lips. “Have a good night,” he says, winking at me.
“You too.” I smile and then get out of the car. He backs out of my driveway before I’ve made it to the door and I tell myself I don’t care that he’s not exactly a polite gentleman who walks me to my door. I’m pretty sure guys don’t even do that stuff anymore.
I guess I should know better by now, but it’s a little disappointing when he doesn’t text me for the rest of the night. As the weekend comes and goes, I spend all of my time at The Magpie trying to drum up customers between staring at my phone hoping for a text. But I’m starting to think that Caleb Brown is just the kind of guy who never uses a cell phone. Or maybe he just doesn’t use it to talk to me.
***
My Monday morning walk to first period is a blur. I’m purposely trying not to pay attention to the faces in the hallway. Caleb hasn’t texted me or otherwise acknowledged that I exist in any way, so I’d prefer to do the same for him. I don’t want to look for him. I don’t want to think about him.
When someone walks up a little too close to me, I’m about to ignore them as well until I recognize the soapy scent of Jonah.
“Good morning,” he says, flashing me a smile.