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“Of course. His questions still didn’t make any sense.” I sniff. Although I did research them while trying to both tie my sneakers and eat breakfast.
“To you,” Caleb surmises with a smirk.
“To me,” I concede. “Plus, I figured anyone who truly cares about an RBI or a WHIP would know where to look that up.”
Caleb laughs, and the husky warmth of it somehow infiltrates the three layers I’m wearing. “Probably true.” He stands and pulls on his backpack. “You coming?”
“What? Where?”
“To the library. I can’t sit on these bleachers anymore. It’s a miracle anyone watches our entire games.”
I stand and stretch. “Uh, yeah, I guess.” That’s exactly where I was planning to go, but I’m wary of spending any more time with Caleb alone. I doubt anyone but Mr. Gibbs will be there this early. I don’t have a better option, though, so I climb down after him.
We walk side by side along the deserted sidewalk, and it’s incredibly bizarre. I’m hyperaware of everything: the thump of my heavy backpack, the slap of my sneakers against the pavement, the rapid pounding of my heart. The back of my hand brushes Caleb’s once, accidentally. I snatch it back, cheeks burning as I keep my eyes aimed straight ahead.
We’re almost to the front doors when Caleb speaks. “I am, by the way.”
“What?” I glance at him. He’s focused on the brick building we’re approaching. It’s an imposing facade better suited for a university than a public high school, complete with columns and framed windows. Landry doesn’t do anything in half-measures.
“Single.” Caleb glances over at me, his indifferent expression becoming a smirk, probably in response to the confused expression I can feel wrinkling my brow. “You said someone asked.”
“Someone?” For whatever reason, that’s the word I focus on. Maybe because I’m weirdly…relieved that’s his answer. “Ijusttold you her name is Julie.”
Caleb looks amused by my response. “Fine,Julieasked.”
“You only bother to learn girls’ names if they’re popular?” I snap.
Suddenly, I feel like I’m witnessing this conversation from a distance, watching what will come next but unable to stop it. Around most people I think, then react. Around Caleb I react, then double down.
Caleb reaches out and pulls open one of the four front doors, gesturing for me to walk in first. I stalk through the opening, annoyed at him for being nice to me when I’m not being nice to him for essentially no reason. This is the worst possible time for him to try being a gentleman.
He catches up to me easily. “I knowyourname. And popular isn’t exactly the first adjective that comes to mind.”
I should probably be affronted, but I know he’s right. I doubt a single person in Landry would consider me popular. I’m being ridiculous but am too stubborn to admit it. And wondering what adjectivedoescome to mind.
“What an honor,” I mutter before marching into the front office to sign the early arrival sheet.
The school secretary blinks sleepily as she looks up from her steaming mug of coffee.
“Good morning,” she greets us.
“Good morning.”
I wonder if I’d be standing here with Caleb if I’d showed up to this office the first day of freshman year after he’d already left. I quickly block the thought. Too many tiny moments have determined major parts of my life. It’s easier to think we were destined to spend high school arguing no matter what.
I lean over the desk to sign my name, then step back so Caleb can do the same. The secretary’s eyes bounce back and forth between the two of us. I’ve never shown up this early to school. I’m usually running late after rushing through the morning chores. Maybe she doesn’t even recognize me, since I’m no longer a gangly freshman. Maybe she’s staring because she’s as enamored with Caleb as the rest of the town.
The only sound in the small office is the pen scratching against paper as Caleb signs his name. As soon as I hear the sound stop, I head toward the door that leads into the school hallway, pushing the metal bar to fling the glass door open. Unlike the last time I left this room with Caleb Winters behind me, I don’t drop the door on him. But as soon as I feel him start to hold the weight, I lower my hand.
“You think she remembers us?”
I glance at Caleb, surprised and somewhat alarmed to realize we were both thinking the same thing. It suggests a familiarity I didn’t think we shared. “Remembers what?”
He grins, likes he knows I’m only feigning forgetfulness. “The day we met.”
Not the first day of freshman year.
Not the day I got him lost.
