Page 18

CALEB

Then . . .

“What’s our plan?” Jumbo crushed his empty soda can between his palms.

“Trash them back,” Caleb said.

“I say we start collecting garbage.” Crammer downed the last of his soda. “Put the trash in bags behind Jumbo’s gramps’ barn to rot in the sun.”

Caleb laughed as they bumped fists.

“When should we execute Operation Revenge?” Shift said. “When they start two-a-days?”

The group disagreed, and Caleb was relieved. He wanted to get them back but not ruin their first day of practice. That would be going too far. He wanted no excuses when the Eagles trounced them in the final game of the season.

They tossed around a few more ideas before deciding to collect all the trash they could for the rest of the week, then execute.

“But let’s not put it in the sun,” Caleb said, “or we’ll end up smelling worse than the field.”

Agreed.

Jumbo crushed another empty soda can between his hands. “Ransom, you still hanging with the hot chick at the diner?”

“Yeah, Ransom. When do we meet her?” Kidwell was the Romeo of their group. All the girls loved him. He was stupid good-looking but also sincerely charming. In eighth grade, he stole Shift’s date to the dance and Shift said, “I can’t even be mad , he’s so nice.”

“Meet her whenever you want,” Caleb said as nonchalantly as possible. “She’s from Ohio. Down here with her family for the summer.”

“Are you two going out?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know. We’re friends.”

“Move on, Kidwell,” Crammer said. “Let Ransom have one. He’s never even kissed a girl, as far as we know.”

“Shut up, Crammer.” Caleb lobbed a crushed soda can at his friend then hopped out of the truck bed. “Get out, boys, I have to go home.”

“We know, it’s Thursday night.” Kidwell dropped to the ground. “Ransom family dinner night.”

More than once Kidwell had offered Caleb his college fund, his weekly allowance, even his brand-new Nikes, for a year at the Ransom family Thursday night dinners.

Because the wealthy Kidwell clan was a gong show.

Which was probably why the dude was so nice and sincere, as a reaction against the chaos in his household.

Caleb always thought he had a look of longing in his eyes.

He used to invite him home a lot during the school year, where Mom fussed over him and Cassidy flirted. But lately, the Ransom household wasn’t much better than Kidwell’s.

Slipping in behind the wheel, Caleb startled when Jumbo knocked on the passenger window.

“Hey, just wanted to let you know my sister seen Cassidy out at a West End bar. Said she was pretty trashed. Could barely stand.” He glanced back as Crammer left, skidding and fishtailing in the dust between the palms and palmettos.

“Didn’t want to say nothing in front of them. ”

“Thanks, dude. Appreciate it.”

“Also, she was hanging on Coach Sanchez.”

“Sanchez? No way.” He was the offensive coordinator for West End High, their rival. “She’s not that dumb. Isn’t he, like, twenty-four? And engaged?”

“Just telling you what she saw.”

Caleb fired up the truck but sat there for a moment, wondering what had gotten into his sister. Drunk? Hanging on Coach Sanchez? If she was home, he’d say something. It’d lead to a fight, but so what?

But when Caleb parked in the driveway, the house looked dark. He hung his keys on the hook by the kitchen door and flipped on the light.

“Mom?” He yanked open the fridge for a water. “Are you ordering takeout? I vote for Chinese.” Mr. Po’s had recently opened by the Starlight Museum. “Mom?”

Caleb bounded upstairs two at a time, his footsteps echoing in a cold and ominous house.

He texted his parents.

Where is everyone?

Then he texted Cassidy.

You coming home for dinner?

Her reply came quick.

Um, duh, noooo.

Mom:

Sorry, Caleb, I had to work late.

Dad:

One of our biggest jobs got scrambled. Still not all the way there. Eat without me.

In his room, Caleb fell face-first onto his bed.

His family was imploding. Maybe that’s what happened over time.

Families changed. Traditions unraveled. He’d been na?ve enough to think things would go on forever.

That he’d bring his kids to Grandma and Grandpa’s for the traditional Thursday night dinner, along with Cassidy’s family.

He dug in his pocket for his phone and rolled onto his back. He started a text to Emery, then decided against it. Why dump on her?

He grabbed his iPod, plugged in his headset, and hit play on the Eagles Their Greatest Hits album. The music was smooth and melancholy, and the last thing he remembered was having a “peaceful, easy feeling.”

An hour later, he woke up from a deep sleep, grumpy and hungry, with sounds coming from downstairs, along with the living room’s light. Caleb grabbed his shoes, then headed to the bathroom to splash water on his face, an idea forming.

“There you are,” Mom said in her cheery, fake voice. “Did you eat?”

“Not hungry.” He took his keys from the hook.

“Caleb, look,” Dad said. “Your mom and I realize things have been—”

“Weird? Yeah, really weird. And where’s Cassidy?” He yanked open the door. “I texted her about coming to dinner and she said ‘Um, duh, noooo.’”

“What?” Mom went to the stairs. “Cassidy? Honey, we’re home. You hungry?”

“I’m telling you, she’s not here. Didn’t you see her car was missing?”

“She told me she’d be home.” Caleb waited, listening, as Mom walked up the stairs, down the hall, opened Cassidy’s bedroom door, then came back down. “Well, where is she?”

Maybe at some bar. Hanging with a West End coach. But Caleb didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.

“Do you think something is wrong with her?” Mom said. “Maybe she’s having a breakdown or something. In the spring she was doing so well in school and on the softball field.... Caleb, has she said anything to you?”

“Nope. I’ve asked.”

Dad suggested again that they make an appointment with a doctor. “She may need serious help.”

“I’ll be back,” Caleb said, his tone soft, sorry he snapped at his parents. “I’m going to see my friend Emery. Dad, her dad’s the guy you talked to a few weeks ago.”

“Fine, but don’t be—” He regarded Caleb for a moment like he wanted to say something parental but instead ran out of steam.

“I won’t be out late.”

In his truck, he took a minute to process.

Could something be wrong with Cassidy? He looked toward the lights of the kitchen.

Maybe he’d just stay home and order pizza, see if Mom and Dad wanted to play a game.

But it was almost eight. Mom took her nightly bath at eight thirty, and Dad sat in his chair with one of his many books.

Besides, Caleb wanted to see Emery. She made him feel like his world wouldn’t always be messed up.

At the Sands, he’d hoped to find her sitting by the firepit.

But when he arrived, the courtyard was dark, except for the string of lights and the golden windows of the occupied cottages.

From one of them came a bit of music and laughter.

He glanced toward Cottage 7, still feeling knotted up from the all the day’s weirdness.

Even Operation Revenge felt pointless and wrong.

He started to knock on Emery’s door but lost his nerve and turned to go.

“Leaving so soon?” Emery appeared in cottage doorway, the light from inside embracing her.

“Hey, sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to disturb y’all.”

“Then why’d you come over?”

“It’s okay. I should probably go.”

Emery peered at him. “You need to talk, don’t you?”

“I thought maybe Delilah would have one of her summer fires going.” His weird way of saying yes.

“Dad,” Emery called over her shoulder, “can we make a fire?”

The man came out in socks and sandals, T-shirt and plaid shorts, greeted Caleb, and grabbed a few logs from the pile. “I feel I should remind you,” he said. “I know Krav Maga.”

Caleb saluted. “Noted, Mr. Quinn. I’d still like a few lessons.”

“Perhaps toward the end of our stay, when I’ll no longer need to reserve my secrets.”

While Caleb helped Mr. Quinn build the fire, Emery disappeared inside, returning a few minutes later with her hair in a braid and some gloss on her lips. “Let’s walk on the beach first. Dad, we’ll be right back.”

They walked in silence through the courtyard toward the runner of moonlight on the sand.

Finally, he confessed, “Thursday night is family dinner night. Only my parents worked late, and Cassidy was a no-show. A friend’s sister saw her at a West End bar, drunk.

She’s not even eighteen. It feels like everything is changing around me, and I can’t find a way to feel right about it. ”

“Maybe you’re not supposed to feel right about it.” Emery’s hand swung against his, so he hung on. That was all he needed for his world to get a little brighter.

“Maybe.” He squeezed her hand. “I feel a little stupid. Always complaining about my family.”

“Doesn’t feel stupid to me. If I had a brother, I’d want him to care about me like you care about Cassidy.”

“I like you, Emery Quinn. A lot.” He caught the edge of her white smile in the angled glow of the Beachwalk lamps.

“I like you too.” She held his hand a bit tighter.

“Are you going to break my heart, Quinn?”

“Not if you don’t break mine, Ransom.”

They arrived at food truck row and Caleb bought a couple of tacos from Tito’s Tacos before they headed back to the motel. What just happened? Did they confess they liked each other? Should he make it formal? She was leaving before the end of summer. So he should just let it be.

Back at the courtyard, a soft fire flickered, and music drifted down from the speakers.

Emery took one Adirondack. He took the other.

They ate their tacos, and when she looked over at him, smiling, the fire’s flame in her eyes, Caleb knew without a doubt that Emery Quinn would definitely break his heart.