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CALEB

Then . . .

Getting comfortable wasn’t easy after the bashing he endured from West End’s defensive line tonight. And the interception he threw in the final two minutes of the game on fourth and goal played over and over in his mind.

He’d let the team down. Let himself down. And on enemy turf. But the Eagles’ defense held the Panthers, and by the grace of God, Nickle High walked away with the W.

But more than a rough game powered by his mistakes, he missed his sister. In the past, she’d stretch out on the bed with him for a little post-game breakdown. Then they talked about life—school, homecoming, what they wanted to eat for Thanksgiving, what they’d get Mom and Dad for Christmas.

The absence of her voice rang in his ears. Her eighteenth birthday passed without any fanfare, though Mom sent her some money. She’d texted her thanks a day later.

Along with his almost-game-losing interception, he couldn’t stop picturing the girl on the West End High sideline who l ooked like Cassidy. Only skinnier and with shorter hair. When he tried to get a better look, she was gone.

His parents had resigned themselves to the new way of life, which bothered him a little. Last summer he wanted them to kick her out; now he wanted them to go after her.

Mom kept all the family routines and traditions—like making a victory cake for Caleb after the game. He devoured it with Shift, Jumbo, and Kidwell.

In the middle of washing down a large bite of cake with a glass of milk, Shift asked, “Whatever happen to Emery , Queen of Operation Revenge?”

“ Back in Cleveland.” Short and sweet, leaving no room for questions.

Caleb gave up on sleeping, flipped on the small lamp by his bed, and reached for his laptop.

On Facebook, he searched for Emery Quinn, his heart ka-chunking when her pretty face popped on the screen.

He typed Hi on her Wall, then deleted it. Hi? Don’t be dumb , Ransom . Just send her a message.

The only way to contact Emery was through Facebook.

Dad was making him save up to buy his own phone, since he “lost it.” Caleb couldn’t bring himself to tell him Cass tossed it in the Gulf.

He’d messaged Emery “Happy Birthday” in October, but she never responded.

She’d missed his September birthday, but he didn’t mind.

Then she posted her mom had died. He’d stared at the post for a long time, trying to understand. Mrs. Quinn was dead? It didn’t feel real.

Em, your mom died? Was she sick? Are you okay? I don’t know what to say, but I wish I was there with you. I don’t have a phone right now. Cass threw mine in the Gulf. Can you send me your number? I’ll call you on the landline.

S he’d never messaged back. But he understood. Now, scrolling Emery’s wall, there were hundreds of condolences. As far as he could tell, she’d not responded to any of them.

He looked up when someone knocked on his door. “Yeah?”

Dad peeked in. “You okay? I saw the light on.”

“I’m sore.” He turned the laptop to his dad. “Just looking on Emery’s Facebook wall.”

Dad sat on the edge of the bed. “Losing her mom has to be hard. Especially when they were such a close family.”

“Do you still have her dad’s number? Could I call him?”

“Tell you what, why don’t we run out and get you a replacement phone? Then you can call him, get Emery’s number.”

“What happened to saving up for my own phone?”

“Cassidy told Mom she threw yours in the drink.”

“What? When?”

“She was asking if you had a new phone. Or a new number. I think she misses you. And you should’ve told me the truth.”

“You think she’ll come home soon?” Caleb said.

“I don’t know. In a way, we’re getting along with her better now that she’s out of the house.” Dad patted Caleb’s foot. “Great game tonight. You took some hard hits.”

“We beat the West End. That’s all that matters.”

“It’s always nice to defeat the rival.” Dad stood in the doorway, shadowed by the low, hallway lights. “Are you working at the Starlight tomorrow?”

“All day.”

“See if you can get someone to cover a shift. We’ll get you a phone, maybe grab a bite to eat.”

When Dad had gone, Caleb glanced at Emery’s Facebook wall one last time and decided on one simple message.

I miss you.

S unday’s Royal Gazette

April 27

Sea Blue Beach Welcomes House of Blue Royals at Friday Night Reception

Site of Royal Brunch Trashed. State Department Investigating

EMERY

Now . . .

It was becoming her thing. She wanted to be the first to see the paper besides the paperboys. She woke early, showered, and rode her favorite motel bike to the Gazette office.

Riding down Avenue C toward Rachel Kirby Lane, the morning twilight fought the lingering ink of night and promised a clear spring day.

She was nervous. This paper had to be spectacular. Why? Because it was another chapter in Sea Blue Beach’s story.

Social media was already propagated with its version of what happened, the royal watchers posting photos of the destroyed brunch site and others sharing it. Some posted photos of the royal couple from some other event and claimed it was Sea Blue Beach.

B ut the Gazette was telling the truth.

Last night, she’d kept checking her phone while skating with Caleb in case she missed a call from Floyd. Then while sipping a post-skate chai tea with him at One More Cup, she glanced at it every thirty seconds.

At one point, he settled his hand on hers. “It’s going to be fine.”

Now, pedaling toward the paper, she spotted the paperboys on the porch, folding and sorting. Owen met her on the sidewalk before she could stop the bike.

“You’re not going to like this.” He handed her a copy, then aimed his flashlight on the front page. “You might want to get off the bike first.”

“Owen, please don’t tell me.” Her bike clattered against the pavement.

“The ads are missing.”

* * *

Then . . .

During the school day, she’d almost forget. Caught up with her friends, classes, and sports, life seemed perfectly normal.

Then she’d walk through the parking lot under stark, bare trees toward her pre-owned yellow Jeep and remember.

Mom was gone.

Entering the quiet, dark kitchen after practice, she remembered.

Mom was gone.

No matter how many lights she turned on, or how loud she blasted the music, the house felt empty and cold.

Mom was gone.

When she sat with Dad at the grief counselor’s, Emery definitely remembered.

M om was gone.

Tonight, as she walked through the kitchen door, her phone blared from her backpack. She didn’t recognize the number, but every now and then, one of Mom’s old friends called her. To check in. But it only brought it all up again...

She answered with slow “Hello?” as she walked toward the large pane window, where a month ago Mom lay in a hospice bed, watching the summer green surrender to fall colors.

Now the trees were bare, and the colors faded to gray and brown.

“Hey, Em, it’s me.”

Caleb Ransom. Emery dropped to the swivel chair by the window and watched a passing car through watery eyes.

“I thought your sister tossed your phone in the Gulf.”

“So you read my message?”

“Yeah, but—” She’d discarded all her Sea Blue Beach memories—and Caleb Ransom. She still had a message on her phone from Delilah, waiting to be answered.

“It’s okay. I just wanted you to know I’m really sorry about your mom. She was always so nice to me.”

“She was nice to me too.” She laughed through soft tears. Caleb didn’t say anything, just waited. “H-how’s school?” she said. “How’s football?”

She knew a little bit—Mr. Star Quarterback—from sneaking over to his Facebook Wall after his “I miss you” message.

“School’s good. We beat West End, so we’re going to district.”

“Did you find any trash on their field?” The sound of his laugh made her smile.

“Yeah, the interception I threw on fourth and goal. Pure trash.”

“But you won?”

“We won.”

“That’s good.” She lowered the phone to cover a deep inhale, t he one intended to guard against Caleb’s warm, comforting voice. She felt fragile, like she’d break if she spoke one more word.

“Em, you okay?”

She cleared her throat. “Y-yes.” But then she started to tremble with heavier tears.

“Hey,” he said. “I was on my way to meet you that night. I wasn’t blowing you off or anything.”

“It’s fine. Probably worked out for the best.”

“Yeah, probably.” She waited for him to say good-bye. “How was your birthday?”

“Fine.” Emery pressed her fingers under her eyes to stave off the tears. “Mom threw me a party. At least she tried. Dad and her friends ended up taking over. Then she died three days later.”

“Man, that’s rough. Sorry, Em.”

“I know.” She caught a solo tear slipping down her cheek.

“I bet the party made her happy.”

“It did, and we had fun.” Emery focused out the window where clusters of dried leaves skipped over the lawn. “I should go.”

“Yeah, of course. Hey, Em, I was thinking ... maybe I can road-trip to see you. With Shift riding shotgun. He asked about you.”

“No, Caleb, don’t ... I-I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Oh, okay, sure, but if you ever—”

“Have a nice life, Caleb. I mean it.” She hit end before he blurted out something irrational like “I love you.” Because she’d felt love the moment she heard his voice.

But being with him was impossible. Besides living a thousand miles away, she associated him with the saddest time of her life.

But he also made her happy, and she didn’t want to be happy. Not for a long time to come.

* * *

Now . . .

“Rough day?”

Emery twisted around to see Delilah joining her on the beach, where she sat on a copy of the Sunday Royal Gazette .

“I’m not good company right now, Delilah.”

“Sometimes it all comes crashing down, doesn’t it?” She kicked off her flip-flops and buried her feet in the sand.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Emery said, irritated Delilah had settled next to her.

“The images of Friday night, along with your story, were beautiful. I hardly noticed the ad holes.” To this, Emery scoffed. “You did more than most, Emery. You tried to help Sea Blue Beach by inviting the royals.”