Page 49 of Caleb


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Our waitress comes by and clears our plates away. "Dessert?" she asks.

"None for me," Nicco pipes up. "Sugar slows you down."

"I'll have a slice of Dutch apple pie," Boone says, "with two scoops of ice cream, please."

The waitress raises her brows but writes it down. "Chocolate or vanilla?"

"One of each." Boone's talking to the waitress but her gaze is firmly on Nicco.

"And for you two?" the waitress addresses Caleb and me.

"Have the cobbler, it's especially good today," Mrs. Murphy from the next table over suggests. They've been hanging out through our whole meal. I should be offended but they're so darn cute.

"Thanks," I reply. "I guess that's what I'll have," I tell the waitress.

"I'll just share her cobbler," Caleb says. "If that's okay with you," he says to me.

"Oh gag me," Boone says. "You two are too cutesy."

"I'd just like some black coffee," Nicco adds before the waitress walks off.

"When did they put the TV in here?" Boone asks. "Ugh. I hate that."

We all glance up at the giant screen hanging on the wall. The volume is down but there's a crawl along the bottom with the words of the broadcast. It's tuned to a news station and the local weather just popped up.

"Yeah," Caleb says. "I always like coming here to get away from the news and to talk to people. I'm sorry they put it in too."

"Finally," Nicco says, "something we agree about." Boone gives him a haughty glance. "I wasn't talking to you."

The waitress arrives with our desserts. Boone's is huge, with two scoops of ice cream plus a mountain of whipped cream on top. She looks a little shocked but doesn't say anything other than, "Yum," before she picks up her fork and dives in.

Mrs. Murphy was right. The cobbler is delicious. I'm savoring a bite when I look up and see my own image on the giant screen. I freeze in place, thankfully managing to swallow the food in my mouth without choking.

Beneath my photo there's a banner that says, "Fans heartbroken over disappearance of Xander, world famous pop star."

I stare at the screen and honestly, I don't even recognize my own image. It's been a couple weeks since my break from Xander and I haven't missed her.

But I have missed singing. We still sing in the evenings on the porch and that's fun, but the urge to be on stage and really belt out a song is growing stronger in me as time passes.

And I've missed my fans. The woman they are interviewing looks completely distraught. "Why did she leave us? Does she hate us? We all love her so much. Her songs mean everything to me. I listen to them all the time, especially when I'm sad and they make me feel better. But now I don't know what to think."

The next image on the screen is the news anchor. I read the text of what she's saying.Rumors abound about the whereabouts of Xander. It's hard to imagine there's a place in the country, or even the world, where she wouldn't be recognized. And one has to wonder why she's leaving her fans heartbroken like this. It had been believed that she was ill, but apparently that was all a ruse for her to get out of contracts.

The next image is a young man being interviewed. "Hell yes, I'm going to find her. There's a one-hundred-thousand dollar reward for information and I want it."

Back to the new anchor.Hundreds of internet sleuths have been sharing rumors and many have even left their basements to go and look for her in hopes of claiming the reward.

The final person on the giant screen is my father. "I'm so worried about Xander." Then he looks straight at the camera and says, "Xander, honey, if you're out there, please let me know you're all right. It breaks my heart to think you're out there all alone."

The spoon in my hand clatters to the floor and startles me out of my shock. Caleb, Boone and Nicco are all looking at the screen too, but quickly look away when others in the restaurant turn our way when I drop my spoon.

"Sorry," I say.

Caleb leans over to pick it up and places it on the table, then passes his spoon my way. "Keep eating. Just like nothing is wrong."

"No one else is paying attention to the TV," Boone offers.

"I feel sick," I whisper. "I need to go to the ladies' room."

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