Resisting the Rebel

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  She puffed up, ready to argue, then collapsed in on herself like a marshmallow roasting over a fire, shrinking under the heat of his gaze, making him feel like an asshole.

  “I know about life sucking, Caleb,” she muttered. “Trust me, I know. But I choose to believe…I have to believe there’s a reason for everything.”

  The desperation in her voice hit him like a punch. He hoped like hell he hadn’t hurt her. He reached out his hand tentatively, resting it on her knee. After a moment, she rested her hand on top of his.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I know. Me, too. For you.”

  He pulled the small notebook out of his jacket with his free hand, his other hand still entwined with hers. “This is…all I have left of my mom. She used to write words for me. Big, complicated ones I didn’t understand until she explained them.” He gazed at the water, remembering. “She was a poet. Words—those were her first love. I think our family came in second place after words.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s why I want to be a writer someday.”

  He felt her turn toward him, and he let out a breath before he faced her, unsure if he was ready for the full-on sympathetic Mandy treatment.

  “I totally understand about the notebook.” She fingered her weird crab necklace. “This was my mom’s.” She glanced down at her T-shirt. “This was hers, too. A lot of the old seventies stuff I wear was hers.” She shrugged, and he wondered if the bloom of pink on her cheeks was embarrassment.

  He ran his thumb along hers as he held her gaze. Words tumbled inside him so fast he wasn’t sure how to pick the right ones. “Don’t ever be embarrassed about that stuff, Mandy.”

  She nodded, her smile brave, and he suddenly felt like hell for making fun of her clothes.

  “I’m sorry I called you Disco. I’ll stop.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “No. Don’t stop. I kind of…like it.” She tugged at her dangling earrings, and he wondered if those were her mom’s, too. “My mom really was the queen of disco.” She laughed softly. “So it’s cool.” She hesitated. “Would you maybe show me what’s in your notebook sometime? I promise I won’t tell anyone about it. I just”—she swallowed and turned to glance at the pond—“it’s…good to talk to someone else who understands about what it feels like…to miss your mom.”

  He didn’t know how to respond. No one knew about the notebook, not even his dad or his brother. He ran his hand over the worn red cover. If he showed her, it would be like sharing his mom. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

  Slowly, he opened his notebook to the first page. The swirling handwriting always made his chest tighten. He ran his free hand over the fading ink. His mom had started the notebook when he was five years old.

  Words mean everything, Caleb, she’d told him. I want to help you collect them, so you’ll have just the right one when you need it.

  He’d listened to her, rapt with attention. Rapt: fascinated, enthralled, spellbound. He’d adored his mother more than anyone or anything else in the world. Where his father was like the night, scary and full of darkness, his mother was the light on a blazingly hot summer day, so bright he sometimes had to blink.

  “Here’s your first word,” she’d said, wrapping an arm tightly around him as they snuggled on the couch. With her other hand she printed in purple ink on the first page of a fresh notebook. He liked this notebook because it was small enough to fit in his pocket, like it was made special just for a five-year-old.

  He’d watched her hand as she wrote, noticing her bright red nail polish and the shiny gold bracelet that scraped across the page. M-A-G-N-I-F-I-C-E-N-T. He still remembered how the letters swam in front of his eyes. It was the biggest word he’d ever seen and he had no idea what it was.

  “Magnificent,” she’d whispered in his ear. “Can you say that, sweetie?”

  “Mag fin is…um?” He’d glanced up anxiously, not wanting to disappoint her. She’d leaned down to kiss his forehead.

  “Let’s say it together, sweetheart.” Her finger had traced an invisible line under the word as she spoke slowly. “Mag…ni…fi…cent. Say it with me.”

  So he had, over and over until he got it right. Then he’d looked into her chocolate-brown eyes and asked, “What is magnificent, Mama?”

  She’d beamed her full-sun smile at him. “You are, sweetheart. You are magnificent, Caleb Torrs, and don’t you forget it.”

  Sitting on the bench with Mandy, he wondered for the millionth time why a mother would leave a magnificent son and never come back.

  Mandy traced her finger over the page. “She had beautiful penmanship. Unlike me.” She smiled up at him, and he knew she was trying to make his sadness go away.

  He squeezed her hand, hoping she’d know it meant thank you…please don’t go…just stay with me.

  She returned the hand squeeze and they sat in silence, watching the geese dive onto the water, then fly up again into the sky, easing into their V formation, streaking across the sky without hesitation, their honks fading in the wind.

  Caleb wondered what it would be like, to be so sure of where you were going.

  And to fly with someone always at your side.

  …

  As Caleb’s car backed out of the driveway, Mandy wondered if he saw her wave good-bye. She watched the black car until it disappeared, wishing she could lift even a tiny bit of Caleb’s darkness.

  She was grateful her gran was napping and Reg was out, because she needed time to process what had happened. Safely inside her bedroom, she turned on the firefly lights draped over her bookcase and queued up her Mystical playlist, softly, so she wouldn’t wake Gran.

  She sat on the floor, leaning against her bed frame and staring at her bookcase.

  “I can’t figure him out, Mom,” she said to the framed photo of her mom wearing the green dress—the same dress Mandy planned to wear to homecoming. She sighed and studied the photo more closely.

  In the photo, her mom’s head was tilted back and her eyes were closed. Her mouth was open, laughing at something her dad must’ve said, because he grinned down at her, his hair thick and long, unlike his current buzz cut. They looked so, so happy.

  Her parents had been high school sweethearts—disgustingly cute even in 1981 when the photo had been taken, teetering between the disco era and the eighties New Wave and punk era. Her mom was solidly on team disco, but her dad was more of a punk guy. Their musical differences hadn’t mattered, though, because it was love at first sight, at least according to her mom.

  Mandy wrapped her hands around her knees. “He lost his mom, too,” she said to the photo. “Only not forever, like I lost you.” She tugged at the frayed carpet. “I bet he’ll connect with her again someday.” She hoped so. Even if it was years from now, she hoped someday his mom would reach out, or that he’d track her down.

  “He’s so different than I thought he was,” she whispered to the bear she’d made for herself during her first week at Build-a-Buddy. “There’s a decent guy hiding behind all that attitude.”

  She knew why he’d gone quiet on the drive home. She knew all about stuffing feelings, and she also knew it didn’t work. The feelings had to come out, because if they didn’t he was doomed to a miserable life.

  But this whole fake girlfriend thing…she didn’t know what to do about that, because now that she and Caleb had sort of bonded, it was hard to tell what was real and what was fake. And when she thought of going to the dance, she wasn’t sure anymore who her dream date was.

  Caleb texted her that night, just as she was drifting off to sleep.

  Einstein had dysgraphia.

  Mandy smiled at her screen. Wow. Cool.

  Agatha Christie.

  Awesome.

  Thomas Edison. That actor who played Fonzie has dyslexia. Probably one of your favorite shows since it’s ancient.

  She laughed, sort of wishing they were doing this in person. You can stop now. I appreciate the effort.

  Jus
t saying you can be brilliant and have dysgraphia.

  Got it.

  Sleep tight, Disco.

  You too, TDB.

  WTF is that??

  She sent him a row of smiley faces, but no way was she ever telling him the secret name she used for him with Cammie.

  C U tomorrow Caleb.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Everybody Wants to Rule the World

  Monday, September 26

  Who knew so many people were sugar junkies? The line for the bake sale was crazy. Caleb sat at the table making change, trying to ignore the surprised faces when people saw him working the cash box. Mandy stood next to him, wearing something sparkly and fluorescent as usual. She laughed and joked, calling everyone by name. It was like she had a school photo directory in her head.

  “Three dollars, Pete,” she said to the hulking football player holding a bag of cookies with sprinkles. The guy handed Caleb a five and Caleb handed him back two dollar bills.

  “Dude,” the hulk said, “I gave you a ten.”

  “No, you didn’t,” Caleb said, raising his eyes to glare at the caveman. The guy glanced at Mandy, who looked at Caleb, a question in her eyes. He cocked an eyebrow. “I think I can tell the difference between a five and a ten.”

  “You trying to rip me off, Torrs?” the hulk said, his bulky frame looming over the table, causing everyone else to stare.

  “No,” Caleb said, standing up. “I’m trying to teach you to count. Pretend I’m the Count on Sesame Street.” Caleb held up his hands, both middle fingers extended and spoke in an exaggerated Dracula accent. “Five minus three is two…”

  The hulk flushed and stepped back from the table. “Whatever.” He turned and stormed away.

  “That wasn’t nice, Caleb,” Mandy said softly, leaning in so only he could hear her.

  His body tensed as her hair brushed against his biceps. He knew it hadn’t been nice, but whatever. He was still churned up after helping her with her paper yesterday, and then talking at the park. He wasn’t sure what the hell to do with all the weird feelings banging around inside him. It was like he’d been sucked in by some whirlpool and couldn’t escape. Even worse, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to escape.

  “I don’t care if it wasn’t nice, Disco. The guy was trying to rip us off.”

  “Us?” Mandy gave him a small smile that made his stomach do something weird.

  He frowned. “Us. You. The freaky Spirit Squad of Doom. Whatever.” He sat down and returned to manning the cash box.

  Mandy turned back to the boisterous line of customers, and they fell into an easy rhythm, her telling him how much was owed, him making change, then J.T. foisting Spirit Week fliers on people as they walked away from the table.

  Everyone knew her. Everyone. From the scrawniest freshman to the most popular seniors, she knew them all. He’d never seen anything like it. Maybe that’s what happened when you photobombed every committee photo in the yearbook, except she wasn’t photobombing. She actually did stuff on all those committees.

  “I’m voting for you as queen, Mandy,” a pretty dark-haired girl said, shooting Caleb a nervous glance like he might bite. “Maybe Gus will be king. You guys would be so cute together.”

  “Oh, um, thanks,” Mandy said, handing a plate of cupcakes to the girl. “Four dollars,” she said. Caleb heard her voice wobble. He shot her a glance as he handed the girl change, but she wouldn’t look at him.

  Caleb wondered what he’d have to do make sure Gus never got elected king. But wasn’t that exactly what she wanted? To go to the damn dance with Gus on her arm? He could picture the two of them on stage, wearing fake crowns and waving and smiling at everyone.

  A crowd surged the table as more people arrived before the first bell. Caleb was so busy he barely had time to look up to make eye contact when he made change, but whenever he did, he saw the same expression: shocked surprise. Was it really so unbelievable that he’d participate? Apparently so.

  “Do I get a discount?”

  Caleb glanced up at the voice. Gus. Of course he was a cheapskate. Except he wasn’t being cheap, he was flirting. With Mandy. Caleb narrowed his eyes.

  “Oh, uh, I don’t…um…”

  Mandy tittered like a delirious bird. She didn’t get that way around him. Yeah, she got flustered and pissed off with him, and yesterday they’d connected in a totally different way. But she didn’t act like this with him.

  “No discounts,” Caleb announced, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Gus glanced at him dismissively, turning his attention back to Mandy. “Not even for me?” He winked at her.

  Caleb stood up. “Are you seriously flirting with my girlfriend, dude?”

  J.T. skittered over to them like an excited puppy. Mandy shot Caleb an annoyed look, but then she bit her lip. He hoped that mixed signal meant something entirely different from her narrowed eyes.

  “Power down, Red Ranger,” J.T. muttered under his breath. “Don’t make a scene.”

  Caleb side-eyed him. “Do I look like I need a wingman?”

  J.T. nodded. “Yep. Blue Rangers always be calming Red Rangers the hell down.”

  Caleb rolled his eyes, then refocused his glare on the tool.

  Mandy, apparently oblivious to everyone but the Octo-Gus, handed Gus a plastic bag full of Rice Krispies Treats and Gus handed her a dollar bill.

  “Uh, no,” said Caleb. “Those bags are three bucks.”

  “I get a friend discount,” Gus retorted, but the slimy way he said friend made Caleb’s skin crawl.

  J.T. stepped forward. “Seriously? You’re gonna cheap out on the spirit committee? On your friends?” J.T. made the word sound even dirtier than Gus had, adding a leer that made Gus take a step back, and made Caleb grin.

  “Whatever.” Gus dug into his wallet and threw a five-dollar bill on the table. He smiled at Mandy. “I’ll see you later.”

  J.T. turned to Caleb. “See how that worked? Blue Ranger saved the day.”

  Caleb snorted. “Yeah, ri—”

  “What’s with you guys?” Mandy interrupted, hands on her hips, eyes blazing. “Why’d you have to—”

  The first class bell rang, stopping her midsentence. All of their customers scattered and Mandy turned away to stack leftover items in cardboard boxes, making her frustration clear.

  Caleb grabbed a box and began tossing in items, speaking quietly so only J.T. could hear him. “Tell me straight. You think that tool is good enough for her?” He tilted his head toward Mandy. “I don’t get what she sees in him.”

  He stopped, wondering when he’d decided to confide in J.T. But he had to make sure that this stupid ruse was worth it, for her. Because he had serious doubts.

  J.T. stacked brownies in the box. “Last year I would’ve said yes. But something happened to him over the summer. It’s like he got bit by a man-whore spider or something, from what some of the girls are saying.” He glanced at Caleb. “Mandy’s blind to it, since she’s crushed on him since kindergarten.”

  Caleb glanced at her. “Maybe it’s time for her to move on from kindergarten.”

  J.T. smirked. “Maybe. You got someone better in mind for her?”

  They stared each other down, just like when they were kids battling over whose turn it was to use the Power Rangers Blaster gun.

  “Maybe,” Caleb finally said, wondering why the hell he was admitting it out loud.

  J.T. squinted his Bowie eyes, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll do recon on the Octo-Gus, see if he’s really as much of a dick as the girls are saying.”

  “And if he is?”

  J.T. smirked. “If he is, I’ll let you know, Red Ranger. So you can figure out your next move.”

  Caleb picked up the box and stepped away from the table. “You’re not gonna shut me down?”

  J.T. shrugged. “Not yet. Not ’til I figure out who the real good guy is. And the real bad guy.”

  Caleb snorted as they passed the principal’s office. “You make it sound like we�
�re living in a comic book with villains and superheroes.” He slanted him an assessing look. “And sidekicks.”

  J.T. grinned. “When you think about it, that’s pretty much what high school is, isn’t it?”

  …

  Mandy didn’t like how the bake sale had ended. That had been weird with Gus sort of flirting with her. It was what she thought she wanted, but what about Kay? Why would Gus do that if he was still with Kay? She didn’t like Kay, but there was still a basic boyfriend code, and she worried he’d just violated it.

  She ignored her history teacher, instead staring out the window and chewing on her pencil. Maybe Gus hadn’t been flirting. Maybe he was just joking around, like he used to when they were all friends. Well, all except Caleb.

  Caleb. She didn’t know what to do about him. Yesterday had been amazing, like a day to keep in a snow globe, under glass, preserved forever. She pictured the two of them on the park bench, talking and holding hands—like people who’d both suffered some bad stuff, and were just sort of…bearing witness with each other.

  After that connection she’d been surprised he’d acted like a jerk today, but that was the weird thing about him—he ran hot and cold, and she never knew which it would be. Maybe he was regretting how much he’d confided in her yesterday, and showing her his notebook.

  “Ms. Pennington, is there an alien invasion occurring outside the window that the rest of are not able to see?”

  Scattered laughter jolted her out of her musings and she blinked, staring at her crabby teacher. She bet he’d never been confused about love. He probably lived alone or with a dozen cats. Whoa. That was seriously mean. What was wrong with her today?

  “No,” she said, sighing heavily. “I’m just…distracted.”

  Her teacher’s face pinched like a sour lemon. “As usual. Let’s try focusing on the Constitution, shall we, Ms. Pennington?”

  Let’s try focusing on your need for a nose-hair trimmer, Mandy thought, then she clapped her hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh out loud. That was totally not something she’d ever say.

  But Caleb might.