Poison Me Sweetly (18 page)

“Um, okay.”

“That does not sound promising,” Caleb calls from
where he's securing some wires to the main deck.

Micaela giggles, and I fight back a laugh. I know
Caleb well enough by now to know that he'd happily sing anything to make this
girl happy. He's going to put everything he's got into this song, regardless of
whether he likes it or not. That's the type of guy he is. He never holds back.

“All set!” Caleb calls out.

I grin and nudge Micaela's shoulder. “Let's get this
party started.”

Caleb moves away from the karaoke machine and sits
dead center on the couch in front of us. He spreads his arms out across the
back of the couch and grins at us. “Your audience is waiting.”

How I ended up here is beyond me. I go from being a
miserable mess to singing karaoke in front of Caleb.

Strangest. Day. Ever.

Micaela and I attach the iPod, and I grab the two microphones.
I speak into one to test it. “
Yo
! Who's ready to get
their groove on? No butt stays planted in one spot for very long. Numb butts
are not allowed in the stadium,” I tease.

Caleb cracks up, and Micaela giggles loudly into her
own microphone.

I look at Micaela. “What's first?”

“You pick.”

I peer at the list and decide we'll start with Kelly
Clarkson's “Stronger.” Micaela had gotten super excited over it, she claims to
know it by heart. I think I pretty much know most of it as well. I hit play and
the song begins. I glance at Micaela, and I see she's getting shy on me. Well,
that is definitely not allowed. All my brooding thoughts from earlier are gone
as I concentrate on making one little girl laugh. I don't have too
bad
of a voice, so I don't mind singing.

I start the song and sing along to the beat. I keep my
eyes on her and wait to see if she'll join in. She's chewing her bottom lip
nervously. The chorus begins, and I move away to bounce and dance as I sing out
the chorus with wild abandon. Who cares if I'm making a fool out of myself in
front of Caleb Preston of all
people.
I only care
about Micaela.

I spy her eyes widening as I dance and belt out the
lyrics. She slowly begins to grin and her soft soprano joins mine. I dance over
to her and bump her playfully with my hip and sing. It's not long before we're
both bouncing around and singing loudly. She has a good voice, so luckily
Caleb's ear drums aren't cringing. I glance at him once, and he has the biggest
grin on his face as he watches us.

I get my girly groove on, and Micaela and I sing song
after song while Caleb watches us with absolute fascination. He claps after
each song, and a couple times stands up and lets out a piercing whistle and
yells, “Encore! Encore!”

Finally, Micaela and I are a bit winded and we need a
break. I hold my microphone out to him with a grin. “You're turn.”

“I can't beat the performance you girl's just put on,”
he says, but he's rising to his feet and accepting the microphone.

Micaela plops down on the couch, looking tired but
happy. “Zoey can be your back-up dancer. You're not on your own then,” she
suggests.

This has me inwardly groaning. I'd been looking
forward to sitting back and watching Caleb sing his song. Not to mention I'm
still trying to catch my breath. I've done a lot of dancing in the past hour or
so.

Caleb’s blue eyes snag mine, and he slowly grins.
“That is a wonderful idea, Micaela.”

“Go check out your song,” I jibe as I stay standing up
front since I am now part of this performance.

He walks over the pedestal and peers at the screen.
His eyebrows shoot up. “This is what I'm singing?”

“Yep. Compliments of Miss Micaela, over there,” I say
with satisfaction.

His lips twitch. “Well, we wouldn't want to
disappoint, and I haven't heard this song in a while. Good choice, Micaela,” he
says as he flashes her an easy smile, causing her to look pleased.

The song begins, and Caleb glances at me briefly
before he starts to sing the lyrics to David Guetta's “Sexy Chick.” He's got a
good voice, and his eyes lift from the screen before him to give me a pointed
look, because I'm supposed to be dancing. The beat is fun, so I dance for
Micaela and deliberately throw in some fun little dance moves that have her
laughing out loud. As Caleb sings the chorus, lowering his voice down to a low
drawl, I bounce around and even dance near him, teasing him. I keep it clean,
and since he doesn't know the words and is trying to keep an eye on the screen,
he only looks up every so often. At one point, I stand directly in front of him
and dance playfully for Micaela but deliberately jiggle my ass for Caleb's
benefit. His voice falters, and my grin widens.

When he finishes the song, Micaela jumps up and claps
loudly. “More! More!” she yells.

“Sorry kiddo, but we've got time for pizza, and then
it'll be time to leave,” he says lightly.

Her face falls, and I can see that she's disappointed
the fun is ending. I walk over to her and pull her into my side, hugging her to
me. “You can come back anytime you want. I'll keep the karaoke machine
assembled so that we can just plug it in the next time you visit,” I assure.

“Really?” she asks, her brown eyes searching mine.

I meet her gaze. “Micaela, you have no idea how much I
needed this today. How much I needed you.” I let my guard down and let her see
the emotional depth of pain in my gaze. Something we both have in common.

Her eyes fill with tears, and she hugs me tightly,
burying her face in my chest. “Thanks, Zoey. I think I needed you today, too.”
My arms wrap around her tightly and my gaze connects with Caleb's over her
head. His eyes are sober as they hold mine. He has no idea how much this
afternoon has cost me, and yet how much it has given me as well.

I release Micaela and ruffle her hair. “No tears.
We've got pizza to eat.”

As soon as Caleb leaves with Micaela, I miss her
presence. I'm left alone in my empty apartment, and there's a part of me that
is sad that it's over, that I'm thrown back to my reality. Then there's the
other side of me that is still wired over how much I’d enjoyed my time with
Micaela. I'd had real fun today that didn't include alcohol or sex. And not
once did I think about how I used to sing karaoke with Micah. I simply enjoyed
the moment and enjoyed Micaela. Well, Caleb too.

The only thing that really sobers up my good mood is
the shadows I'd seen in Micaela's eyes. I'm worried about her. What has caused
her such sadness? Can it be fixed? I start fearing that she might end up like
me, allowing her fear to override every decision she'll make in the future. I'm
scared that she'll grow up jaded like myself. Will she push everyone away like
I have? Has she already?

I realize I need to talk to Caleb.

How does he know her? Does he know her story? He must,
right?

I worry incessantly until I feel that enough time has
passed that Caleb might be back home. I slip on my flip-flops and make my way
up to the fourth floor. As I walk to his apartment door, I have a moments worry
that maybe he has a date tonight. He might have gone out after dropping Micaela
off at home. Before I can change my mind, I knock on the door and wait.

A minute passes before the door opens. Caleb stands
there, a look of surprise flickering over his face when he sees me. “Zoey?”

“Hey. I was hoping to talk to you about Micaela. Is
that okay?” I ask hesitantly.

“Yeah, sure. Come in,” he says immediately, moving
back so I can step inside.

I didn't get a chance to look around the last time I
was here, and I take a second to inspect his place as I slip off my flip-flops.
His place is definitely more lived in than mine. A couple of dark sofas are
situated in front of the small, flat screen TV on the wall. A soft looking
brown blanket has been tossed over the back of one sofa, and I see a bottle of
beer sitting on a simple metal and glass coffee table. There's only one wall
decoration, and it's a large framed photo of some fields and a dilapidated
barn. It looks serene and peaceful. As I scan the rest of his place, I see that
he's got stuff scattered across the counter top in his kitchen. A laptop,
books, and other odds and ends. There's also a sink full of dirty dishes that
are waiting to be washed.

My eyes slide back to him, and I see he's watching me
inspect his place. “Who is Micaela? How do you know her?” I blurt out.

Caleb seems to hesitate. “Let's sit down,” he
suggests, motioning to the couch. We walk over, and I see more school books and
a binder sitting on one side of the couch. I pick them up before he can and
carefully set them on the coffee table. “Sorry. I wasn't expecting company,” he
tells me a bit sheepishly.

“You've seen my bedroom. I'm a total slob. Trust me,
you could have rotting food on your counter top, and I'll shrug it off,” I say
sardonically as I sit down.

He smiles slightly as he settles on the couch next to
me, careful to leave some space between us. “I get the feeling that not much
fazes you.”

“Not really.”

He nods and reaches up to run a hand through his hair.
He seems uncertain and this surprises me. “Her name is Micaela
Runde
. She's...a friend, but I'm also counseling her,” he
explains, his tone oddly cautious.

My eyes widen. “You're a sophomore, and they're
already letting you guys counsel children?”

His lips press tight with a slight grimace. “Not
exactly.”

I shift on the couch so I am facing him, my legs
drawing up so I am sitting cross-legged. “What do you mean, not exactly?”

“I work at a crisis hot-line in the evenings a few
times a week.”

My forehead creases as my eyes roam over his face
slowly. “You...talk to people about their problems?”

“Yes. It's a safe place for people to call to talk to
someone. We get a lot of calls from teens, some that are suicidal, or some that
just need someone to listen to their problems or what they've done. Someone
that won't judge them like their parents would.
It's
great experience for me, and it's a good way to help those that need it, even
if I don't have my degree or certification yet. We go through a training
process before we're allowed to take callers,” he assures me.

“So Micaela called the hot-line?” I assume.

He nods. “She just needed someone to talk to. She's a
great kid, but she's going through a lot of heavy shit at the moment. She
started calling more often, and I gave her my weekly schedule every Monday so
she could call while she knew I was working.”

“They can request who they talk to?”

“Sure. But it still needs to stay anonymous. We can't
give out our last names, and we don't urge our callers for a last name unless
we believe they are going to harm themselves. Those are special cases. The
hot-line works because it's anonymous,” he says quietly as his eyes lock on
mine.

“But you've been with Micaela a couple times,” I point
out.

He seems to choose his words carefully. “She called one
night, was hanging with the wrong type of kids, and she got scared. Didn't have
a ride home and was in a bad part of town. She knew I was working and she
called, asking for a ride.” He gives me a tense look. “You've met her. She's a
sweet girl, and she was frightened. I thought about calling a cab for her,
but...I needed to make sure she was okay myself. She was crying.”

“I get it,” I say softly.

He draws out as sigh. “I said I was getting a migraine
and left, but instead of going home, I went to pick up Micaela. After that
incident, I gave her my cell phone number. She's eleven-years-old, Zoey. Her
mother's turned into a drunk and she has no one else. She needs someone to call
if she ever gets in trouble.”

I'm touching his arm before I can stop myself, my eyes
telling him that he did the right thing. “If you're all she has, you need to be
there.”

His face darkens. “I could get fired. I'm not sure if
that could affect my career or not—probably, if anyone looks into my hot-line
work. But I can't limit her to just phone calls. I just can't. She needs a
friend—an adult. Someone that can help her and guide her. God, that girl has so
much grief inside her, and she's got no one to share it with.” He rubs his
hands over his face and looks at me wearily. “I'll take my chances getting
fired if I can keep her from doing something stupid, something she can't take
back.”

I know exactly what he's saying. I'm the girl that did
the stupid stuff instead of asking for help. As I gaze at the man before me, I
feel the barrier around my heart cracking a little bit more. Caleb is not what
I expected. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and I search his gaze. “Can
you tell me what she's dealing with?”

“I shouldn't.”

I nod. “Okay. I understand.”

“I said I shouldn't, not that I wouldn't. You both
have death in common, and you seem to relate easily to her. She really needed
you today, and I think that's the first time since her father died that she's
laughed and simply enjoyed a moment without grieving for her daddy.”

My body stills, and I give him a frozen look. “Her dad
died?”

His eyes hold mine. “Six months ago in a car accident.
Her mom's taking it hard, and she's turned to alcohol. Micaela says she's drunk
most of the time. Hell, Micaela can come and go as she pleases and her mother
doesn't even notice.”

I suck in a sharp breath and look away as I process
this news. It hits me square in the chest. That little girl is like the younger
version of me. She's lost someone she adored and loved, only to have no one to
help her through her grief. She's alone. Thank God for Caleb.

“I know about your brother, Zoey. The guys told me.”

I look at him sharply, and I see that his eyes are
calm and sincere. His expression tells me he wants me to let him in. He wants
me to open up to him and explain why I’d lost it that night that I’d had that
horrible nightmare. And damned if I don’t want to. There’s this completely
different side of Caleb that has just blown me away. It’s a side that makes me
want to confide in him. I almost want to tell him all my fears, because I know
he’ll help me through it. He’s not the type to walk away from an awkward or
tough situation. He proved it that night he’d pulled me from my darkness.

It’s unsettling to know that I’ve just recently met
him, and yet he’s the first person since Micah died that I can actually see
myself trusting. The thing is, I like Caleb. A lot, in all honesty. But if I
give him more of myself, I give him more power to hurt me.  I’m scared to
death of being hurt again, and I simply can’t take that chance.

“This is about Micaela, not me,” I say simply. “Can
you do anything about her mom? Maybe talk some sense into her?” I ask as I
deliberately avoid the topic of my brother.

Caleb shakes his head. “My hands are tied. I'm not
supposed to be seeing Micaela, and her mother has no clue her daughter is
hanging with a twenty-year-old. This could blow up in my face.”

“You're right,” I murmur in agreement.

“All I can do is be there for her and keep her from
dealing with her grief in a negative way. She's beginning to open up more, so I
think talking about it helps. A lot of times that's all that's needed. Just
someone to listen as they work through it and accept it.”

And then there are people like me. I look away and
study the picture on the wall as my thoughts unfurl. I've held it all in for
three years, and now it's like a stomach ulcer, eating away at me from the
inside out.

“Zoey?” he asks softly.

My body stiffens. I'm pretty sure he's going to try to
steer this conversation in a direction that I'm not comfortable with. “Well, I
need to get going. I just wanted to make sure Micaela's okay,” I say as I rise
to my feet.

Caleb stands, and he walks me to do the door. His eyes
drift over my face as he says, “Why don't you stay for a bit. We can watch a
movie and just hang for a while,” he offers.

“I have things to do,” I say as I slip on my
flip-flops. It's a lame excuse, I know that. I look up at him. “If Micaela ever
gets in a jam and you can't get to her, I want you to call me. I'll do it in a
heartbeat.”

“I know. And I will keep that in mind.”

“Okay. Well, night,” I murmur before I turn and walk
out the door.