Page 37

Tobie

The sky is gray as I pull back my drapes, yawning from yesterday's excitement.

After Reid left my room this morning, I felt it was time to tackle some tasks I’ve been putting off. We didn’t make any plans today, and truth be told, it’s nice to have some time to myself and veg out in my room.

Three fake boyfriends have meant I’m barely in my room these days. I take in the pile of clothes on the floor, the barely made-up bed, and I have a hazy memory of when I last did laundry.

“Time to adult,” I mutter, resigned to cleaning.

By the time I’ve finished doing a couple of loads of laundry, vacuuming, dusting, and catching up with my dad on the phone, the day is over, and I’m done.

After whipping up a quick meal of teriyaki salmon, green beans, and brown rice, I make myself a cup of peppermint tea and crawl under my sheets with a book to snuggle up with.

My phone vibrates across my bedside table, startling me.

I answer it, distracted. “Yeah?”

“It’s me.”

I tear my eyes from the pages of my book. “ Caleb ?”

“You sound busy.”

My gaze lingers on a spicy scene in my cozy monster romance. “Just reading.”

“Anything interesting?”

I close my book and slide it into my bedside drawer, shutting it firmly to control my blush. “Not really. What’s up?”

“Just wondered what you're up to.” He continues talking before I can. “Jay is arguing with his parents again, and Reid was vague about what he was up to.”

Reid is working on his paper given his vague response. Since he’s sworn me to secrecy, I ask, “What was Javier arguing with his parents about?”

“The same thing they always argue about. Hockey.”

If I ever have a child, I will ask them what makes them happy, and if I want something different for them, I’ll make it clear that what they want matters more. It isn’t always easy telling your parents that your dream clashes with theirs.

“I feel bad for him.”

“Me too.”

Material rustles, a sign he’s getting comfortable in bed. He’s going to bed much earlier than I thought he would. It’s only nine-thirty. “I wish there was something I could do to help, but I can’t make his family accept that he needs hockey. Reid probably could.”

“He could?”

“Reid can talk to anyone. Plunk him down in the middle of a party where he knows no one, and he will leave thirty minutes later, best friends with everyone.”

I smile. “That sounds right. And Javier?”

“Jay went to the best schools in Boston. I think going to private school teaches you that whatever you want, you can achieve. He’s confident about almost everything. Everything except this thing with his family.”

My small town was ordinary, neither poor nor rich. I may not have had everything I wanted, but I had what I needed—a loving family, a warm home, and a safe place to sleep. Not everyone is as lucky.

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“People scare me, so I avoid parties. You’re a jock. What’s your excuse?”

“I’ve never been a big drinker, and they take up time I could be doing something else.

” His voice is dry when he adds, “After someone threw up on me in my freshman year, parties lost even more of their appeal. Not that there was much to begin with, but cleaning chunks off you does the job and then some.”

Ew .

I wince in sympathy. “That’s gross.”

“It was. I only have to remember how gross it was when Reid calls me grandpa for sitting out yet another party.”

I laugh. “ Grandpa ?”

There’s a smile in his voice when he says, “He got me slippers for Christmas a couple of years ago. You know the checked style?”

“Yeah.” I volunteered at the retirement home in Lawrenceburg when I was in junior high. I know the exact type he means, having seen the residents shuffle around in them. Picturing Caleb in a pair is making it impossible to keep a straight face.

“He meant it as a joke present, but they’re surprisingly comfortable.”

I laugh again. “Do you still wear them?”

“Only when Reid isn’t around to see me in them. It would be all over campus before the day was over. That would be it. The death of my reputation. I’d never be able to show my face in public ever again.”

I’m still smiling when he falls silent. It’s not awkward or uncomfortable.

He’s in his bed and I’m in mine, and while I’ve talked to friends like this before, it feels different with Caleb.

More intimate somehow. Knowing he’s across campus in his dorm makes it easier to ask, “Why did you agree to do this, Caleb?”

“Do what?” he asks, but I think he knows what I mean.

I turn onto my side, wiggling to get comfortable. “This fake date thing. You could have said no.”

“Maybe Reid and Jay bullied me into it.”

“Did they?”

He’s silent for a beat. “No. They couldn’t bully me into doing anything I didn’t want to.”

“Like calling me?”

I’m glad he did. But surprised. Here I am having an intimate phone call with the captain of the hockey team before bed. I never saw that in my future.

“I was curious what you get up to when we’re not around, and you don’t seem like a texter.”

“It was the lack of emoji, wasn’t it?”

“The lack of what?”

“When you texted me before. I never know what to say in a text in case whatever I say is taken the wrong way.” So I wind up seeming cold with my one word responses.

“So phone calls are easier?”

“Not really.”

“Why not?”

“I’m an introvert. Knowing what to say has never come easily. Put Reid in the middle of a party, and he’ll make friends with everyone. Put me in the middle of a party and I’ll sneak away to find a bookcase so I can read or make friends with the cat.”

“And if there’s no cat?”

“Then the turtle. Basically, anything that can’t talk back.”

His laugh is rich, deep, and makes my toes curl. I love hearing him laugh, and I’m smiling before I’m conscious of it.

“You talk more on the phone than in real life.” I mentally cringe at the words that just came out of my mouth.

In real life? Why, Tobie? Just why?

“It’s easier. But…”

“But?” I prompt, curious and relieved he’s not laughing at me for saying something so stupid.

“It’s you. Things are easier with you than with… well, with anyone else.”

I hold my breath, suddenly tense. Having this conversation while he’s in his bed and I’m in mine was nice before, but now it’s maybe a little too intimate.

It’s reminding me of the fact that he could be naked, and I think he just admitted he likes me.

But does he? Or am I reading too much into things?

“You still there, Myers?”

“Yes,” I squeak, hoping he can’t feel my tension through the phone.

He clears his throat. “I should go. Let you get back to your book.”

“Sure.” I have no interest in my book. I’m too busy kicking myself for being so awkward that I scared Caleb away.

After saying our goodbyes, I hang up and place my phone on the charger overnight.

I turn off my lamp and try to sleep.

For fifteen minutes, I lie in the dark with my eyes wide open.

I can't get his voice out of my head.

What did he mean when he said things were easier with me than with anyone else?

That I’m friend material or something else?

I close my eyes.

Two seconds later, they pop open again.

“What did you mean?” I whisper in the dark.

Is trampling across campus to ask a question that could lead to humiliation a good idea? Probably not. Will this question torment me all night if I don’t ask it? Absolutely.

I sit up and turn my lamp on.

I’m in my PJs and have no desire to change into jeans, so I pull a hoodie over my head, slip my feet into a pair of sneakers, and grab my keys on my way to the door.

And I jump a foot off the ground when I swing the door open and come face-to-face with someone standing directly outside. It’s a miracle I don’t scream. But mostly, it’s because I’m confused.

“ Caleb ?” I frown. “What are you doing here?”

It’s so obvious, I don’t know why I’m asking.

He’s here to end the fake date thing. My awkward, introverted ways are too much for him to handle. He couldn’t even wait until tomorrow. Like me, he’s thrown on a hoodie, sneakers, and a pair of black sweatpants as if he got dressed in a hurry. That’s how badly he wanted it over.

“I said something wrong, didn’t I?” he asks, confusing the hell out of me.

I blink up at him. “ Huh ?”

Great use of your communication skills, Tobie.

Avoiding my gaze, he rakes a hand through his tousled dirty-blond hair. “I said something before and made you uncomfortable.”

I blink again, probably resembling a goldfish in a bowl. I have to stop doing that before it becomes an ingrained habit. “You thought you did something wrong ?”

He glances at me, then away, before refocusing on me, the tension leaving his shoulders. “I didn’t?”

I shake my head. “Why would you think that?”

“You went quiet, and I swear I could hear you wishing me to hang up.”

He thought that?

His eyes drift over my shoulder, settling on my unmade bed and hopefully not judging me for it.

“It’s been a while since I’ve talked to a girl.

Hockey is my thing. I could tell you how to use every piece of equipment in the gym.

This is…” He waves a hand around. “New. This is new. I couldn’t go to sleep without checking to make sure I hadn’t said something that made you uncomfortable. ”

Is this man real?

He looks at me. “You’re smiling.”

Shit. I flatten my lips. “Sorry. Not at you. I thought… well, I thought there was something that probably wasn’t there, and I was coming to see you too, to find out.”

He cocks his head, intrigued. “Find out what?”

Now he’s standing directly in front of me, asking him if he likes me is impossible. “Um, it’s not really important.” It is. Too important to say and risk rejection.

I want him to like me more than just a friend, but when I look at his handsome face and recall the effect he has on women, I figure he won’t. Not a guy like Caleb.

His gaze sharpens on me. “So, you weren’t uncomfortable?”

“No. Talking to you was…” My voice softens as I recall how easy it was, and how much I smiled. “Nice. It was really nice.”

He straightens, looking pleased. “Yeah?”