Fall Out Girl (16 page)

“Well, you don’t seem to mind Jessica’s or all those other girls’ attention.”

I hate to disclose this part, but I may have pouted at the end of that sentence. No joke.

“I don’t want them or their attention,” Caleb said.

“Well, you look very content with all of them swarming all over you.” Not that I was jealous of any of them... Oh, who was I kidding? Jealousy gnawed me down to the bones.

“More of a reason for us to tell everybody that we’re together.”

My offensive approach was backfiring. “What? For me to put a claim on you? That kind of crap is so outdated, Caleb.”

“No. It’s for
me
to put a claim on you.” He took a step back and threaded two hands through his hair. “Do you have any idea of what the guys say about you in the locker room?”

“It doesn’t matter to me.” I shrugged.

“Damn it, Luna. It matters to me. I can’t stand to sit around and listen to them without saying anything back.”

“It would be bad for business.” I crossed my arms over my chest. I would never confess that I was terrified of getting further involved with him. That I was afraid that when others saw us together, they would remind him of who I was. That I would become old news. Or worse. I was terrified of embarrassing him. My feeble heart couldn’t stand to have him looking at me like everyone else in school did: with contempt.

“Bad for business? What about this?” He pointed between us. “How about us? Where are
we
on your scale of priorities?” He turned his back to me.

We were having our first fight, and I wanted to die. We had numerous banters even arguments, but we had never fought before. I reached up to touch him, but lowered my hand.

“Let me think about it, okay?” I pleaded in a small voice.

He turned to face me. “No. Hiding us ends today. I have been patient with you, Luna. You don’t let me in, and I understand that if I put too much pressure, you’ll crack. And I don’t want to crush you, but we can’t go on like this. Not after last night.”

“What are you saying, Caleb?” I asked in a whisper.

He looked away and raked his hair back. When his eyes found mine, they carried a vulnerable plea. “There’s a dinner at my house tonight. Seven. Mom told me to invite you. Please come.”

I wondered if saying no would mean a breakup. I didn’t want to find out. I blurted out, “Don’t be late picking me up.”

Caleb let out a long breath of air. His face beamed with a relieved and contagious grin, and his arms flew around my waist. “You’ve agreed,” he said, hugging me.

“Did I ever tell you? You’re really good at stating the obvious,” I said with my lips splitting into a wide smile.

He gathered me in his arms as if I were a human-sized rag doll. I squeaked when my feet left the ground for an exhilarating twirl. When he stopped, I was giddy and dizzy. His lips possessively seized mine, and I became drunk and high on his taste.

I reproached my need to overthink and relished the nirvana of being in his arms. The truth was simple, uncomplicated. I didn’t want to lose Caleb. Yes, later, I realized I had made a life-altering decision on an impulse. To act so hastily was against the grain of who I had become. There was a gazillion excuses why I should have said no and fled. I had tried to avoid falling for a boy, yet I couldn’t deny my heart a glimpse at beating for a purpose.

I sighed with a mixture of trepidation and veiled cheerfulness. A quote from the one and only, my buddy Bob Marley came to my mind.
“The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for.”
And I had found the one.

At that moment, I was determined to allow the brief moments of happiness to seep through my pores, bleed into my soul. When the pain and suffering arrived and chased away the happiness, at least I would have technicolor memories to stow in my blue birdhouse.

The day progressed slowly. Between blazing glances, secretive smiles, and stolen kisses, Caleb and I cleaned the cages and brushed the dogs. Caleb toured two families interested in adopting a dog, while I socialized with the kittens. I said a little prayer for Rex to charm a new family into adopting him.

“He did it,” Caleb said, holding Rex by a leash.

“What?”

“Rex charmed the family into submission. They are out front, filling out the adoption paperwork.”

I kneeled in front of Rex. “I’m so proud of you, buddy. You found a home.” He nuzzled me. I reached into my pocket and grabbed a treat. “They’re gonna be good to you. It’s a wonderful thing to have a family.”

He swallowed the biscuit and rewarded me with slapping his wet tongue over my face. “Ew, save it for your humans,” I said, giggling.

Vanessa strolled inside the kennel. “Enough good-byes. And don’t you dare feel sad. Rex will be happy.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll miss him, though.”

“You always do.” She raised her hand to collect Rex’s leash.

“I’ll take him,” Caleb volunteered. Vanessa’s tummy was huge, and Rex was too hyper.

I started to wash the kennel for the next puppy. I was thrilled for Rex’s happy ending. I pictured him and his family, riding into the sunset, a haze of happiness burnishing the horizon.

“Are you okay, love?” Caleb asked when he returned. He took the broom from my hands.

“Yeah. It was about time he found a home,” I said dismissively.

“Finally, I have you figured.” He put the broom down.

“Oh. Interesting.” I grinned. “Please do tell, oh Wise One.” I gave a mocking bow.

“You’re a badass pusher.” His arms slid around my waist.

“Wow. Impressive. Like I said before, you do have a way of stating the obvious.”

“Patience, young grasshopper.” He kissed one eye and then the other. “You dress gothic, dye your hair blue—”

“Nothing gets past you.” I sighed in his arms.

“Have tons of piercings and a thousand tattoos.”

“Ten piercings, six tattoos.” I corrected.

He kissed me fiercely and said with a grin, “I don’t appreciate the constant interruption.”

“My apologies, Perceptive One.”

“You wear a glare in your eyes, and a permanent scowl that intimidates even the wrestling team captain. You wear heavy makeup and have a heck of a reputation with the guys. Even though up until last night you were a virgin.”

I bit my tongue to keep quiet, and the taste of sarcasm burst in my mouth.

Caleb pecked my nose and continued, “Yet, here you are, soft and pliant. You smell of mint and gardenias, feed birds, cuddle with puppies and kittens, feed your cousin with healthy food, have a perfect GPA, don’t smoke, don’t drink, don’t do drugs. Oh, and don’t curse much.”

Oh-oh. “That’s me.
Fucking
Mother Theresa.” How did he do that? Well, I suppose one didn’t have to be a genius to figure me out. People just never took the time to study me.

“And I know why you have all these little swallows inked on your skin.” He traced a kiss on my inked shoulder and behind my ear.

“Well?”

He pulled back and stared at me with penetrating eyes. “I was puzzled. Swallows are singing birds, a little at odds with your whole façade. So I did some research on them. According to legend, swallows will return home every year to mate and nest, so sailors tattoo them to ensure they return home after the dangers of a long sailing journey. It’s also believed that if you die on the journey, a swallow will take your soul to heaven. That’s why you’re obsessed. They’ll help you find your way home.”

Caleb’s words were almost verbatim to what Dad had told me when he explained the swallow inked on his chest. “I’m gonna barf. Kudos to you, Caleb. You have a fertile imagination. That, or you had one hell of an LSD trip?”

“Too late to cover your tracks with your witty comebacks. I see right through them.”

That sucked. He did have me figured out, exposed, vulnerable. “Where’s your hat and pipe, Sherlock?”

“Solving a difficult case has its rewards,” he said with an intense smile. “You’re fascinating.”

“You might have a career in forensic science, you know,” I said in a dispassionate voice.

“You wear your mask well, love. Just remember not to become it.”

LATER THAT DAY I made a giant discovery. It was damn hard being a teenager. The entire frivolous attempt to look one’s best was draining.

I debated what to wear as if it was a matter of national security. The shallowness of it all was despicable. In the end, I made a final decision to be comfortable in my skin. So I lapsed back to the common bitchy version of me.

I applied my customary black makeup, placed rings in all the pierced places of my face and ears. I wore a tight black dress, black tights, combat boots, and a small leather jacket. (No, not real leather! I wasn’t a member of PETA, but I refused to deprive an animal of its skin just so I could wear it.)

When Caleb picked me up, he didn’t seem surprised or disappointed with my look. In fact, he had a smug smile that seemed to approve of my emo style.

His fingers fumbled with the stereo, and a Bob Marley song floated through the car. With his pensive stare fixed on the road and our twined fingers on his thigh, Caleb drove in silence. Perhaps he was a little nervous.

He released my hand and pressed a button of a remote peeking out from under the visor. A wrought-iron gate parted. The gate alone was intimidating enough to send me running for the hills.

“Damn. Judges must have one hell of a hefty salary.”

“Don’t be impressed. It’s old money,” he said, justifying his father’s wealth.

“Oh.” As if having money passed down from generations before you somehow made it less impressive.

A vast expanse of luscious grass and exotic trees surrounded the brick-paved road leading to the house. There was a tennis court, a pond with a magnificent water fountain,
a maze!
And a swimming pool. The house—in all its glory and splendor was perched on the top of a hill. The ostentation sent one message, “Hey, look at me; I’m built to impress.” It belonged on the cover of one of those fancy home magazines. The designed landscape of the property surely cost more money than some people made in a lifetime.

Caleb parked in front of the five-car garage and turned to me. “Ready for this?”

“Are you nervous?”

“No….” He let a long breath of air out. “Hell, that’s not true. I’m afraid that after tonight, you’ll be disappointed at who I am.”

“I know who you are, Caleb. Or else I wouldn’t be here.”

His hand clasped my face, and he kissed me with hunger and desperation. With heartbeat and emotion. He tore his lips from me, pressed his head to my mine, and said, “I love you, Luna.”

“Let’s do this,” I responded.

We walked to the front of the house. Caleb pushed an oak door open, and we stepped into a white marble foyer. Caleb put his hand on the small of my back and guided me inside. We stopped under an arch, and Caleb assisted me out of my jacket. While he hung it, I took in the magnificent interior. It was as if I had stepped inside a Hollywood movie with the crystal chandelier, swooping staircase, detailed crown molding, opulent statues, artwork, and a massive console with a tall vase filled with white calla lilies. Two white pillars stood like sentinels, leading to a spacious living room.

As I gawked at the surreal luxury, I didn’t notice someone approaching.

“Luna, you’ve made it. Welcome to our home.” A graceful voice greeted me.

“Hi, Mrs. Cahan.”

She pulled me into a welcoming embrace. “Oh, please, we went over this. Call me Ana.”

I seldom admit to insecurity. That’s for the weak. But at that moment, a tremendous sense of inadequacy surged through me.

In my subconscious, I knew that the appropriate response would be to reciprocate the embrace, but the scent of vanilla and the warmth emanating from her numbed my wits.

She must have noticed my discomfort because she pulled back and freed me. “Feel right at home. Caleb, please make the introductions and get her something to drink.”

“Thank you, Mrs.—I mean, Ana.”

Though she chuckled, she remained elegant. How did she do that?

“Come, love,” Caleb said, returning his hand to the small of my back.

He guided me to a spacious living room. The room smelled of a strange combination of cinnamon and pine. Caleb introduced me to Mrs. Applegate, who appeared constipated. She slithered her gaze over me and wrinkled her nose as if smelling old cheese. With a fake smile plastered on her face, she managed to mumble a “delighted to meet you.”

“And this is Mr. Applegate, Westfield’s previous judge.”

Mr. Applegate gathered my hand and kissed the back of it. “Oh, the beauty and freshness of youth.” He turned to Caleb and said, “What a lovely young lady.”

“Caleb, you’re back,” Lottie exclaimed as she approached. Looking at me, she frowned. “Luna, you came.” She glanced at my outfit and said, “You look different.” She had only seen me at the shelter.

Great, now I got the kid confused, too. “Hey, Lottie. What’s up?”

Before she could answer, a voice boomed from behind me.

“Caleb, please, a word,” Mr. Cahan said and retreated without looking back.

“Just a minute, love.” Caleb kissed my head and followed his father.