Caleb + Kate (21 page)

“Kate, hurry up,” Mom calls for the second time.

How do I do my hair? How do I act now.

Quickly I pull on my school uniform. Downstairs, the outside world shines brighter through the windows—or someone has colored it into more radiant shades. So this feeling isn't going away, despite its being a normal Monday.

It's like everything appears so fresh and clean after a rain— the sky bluer, clouds whiter, grass, flowers, and trees vibrant in color. But not even that after-the-rain color compares to this.

It's belief
, Caleb writes when I text him about it.
The fairy
tales that you lost hope in are suddenly true. Happily ever after might
really exist
.

I smile and set my phone down as I pour myself some coffee. Jake is giving me a scrutinizing look as he eats his cereal, and it actually makes me blush. His mouth drops open. He looks around furtively, as if to see if anyone else has seen it. By then, I recover enough to scowl his way—my threat without words—but then I can't help but laugh at his disconcerted expression. His cereal will get soggy. Walking by the counter, I ruffled his hair as I go by.

Dad and Mom hurry into the kitchen. Dad pours a cup of coffee and has his laptop bag on his shoulder with keys in hand. “She's in love!” Jake announces, and he looks both relieved and hesitant, as if he's figured out a puzzle but is unsure if the answer is right.

“What? No, I'm not!” But my voice sounds too high and completely fake. And then I blush again—drat that! I hate this new revelatory blushing.

Everyone is staring. Dad's eyes are bugged out, and Mom looks around like she's confused.

“Why is it so inconceivable that I might fall in love?”

“With whom?” Dad asks.

“I didn't say it was true.” But I'm blushing again.

Chapter Fourteen

They do not love that do not show their love.

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Two Gentleman of Verona
(Act 1, Scene 2)

CALEB

“Are you ready for this?” she asks when we meet in the quad.

I pause, gauging every flicker of emotion in her face and through her body. She can't fool me, despite how she tries. Her emotions are usually easy to read.

“You look ready,” I say and her eyes hold mine, steady and full of confidence. “So do you send a global text to everyone, or do we just go about our day, making out in every corner?”

“Making out sounds like a plan.”

I start to laugh, but she suddenly stands on her tiptoes and kisses me. Her mouth tastes sweet, and I'm thankful for the people who stop with open-mouthed stares, because it helps pull me away from the chasm that I could willingly dive into. I pull away, only inches, and stare down at the face I now can't imagine living without.

“We have an audience,” I say, and as if on cue, a few people applaud.

“Now it's taken care of,” she says, biting her lip as if she's slightly embarrassed.

“I like how you work.”

Kate takes my hand firmly, and we quickly change them around to the most comfortable position, with her small soft hand safe inside mine. We turn and are met by a few cell phones clicking pictures, various smirks and congratulations, and some “Way to go!” comments.

Ted pushes through a group of people and approaches with the firm steps and clenched jaw of someone ready to fight. I hold Kate's hand tightly.
Not this again
.

“What are you doing?” Ted says to Kate, like she's committed a felony.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you going out with this . . . this . . .”

I look at him casually. He can insult me, but if he says a word about Kate, it'll be different.

The guy has nerve; I'll give him that, even with the misplaced idea that Kate belongs to him. A flicker of doubt comes to mind—has she done anything to encourage that? I think I know her, but this is new territory for me. Everything is different now.

Kate isn't angry when she speaks, which surprises me, considering the force of her grip on my hand. “Ted, this is Caleb. I'm in love with him.”

A few gasps sound around us, and more fingers tap their cell phones. I watch her with a sense of awe:
that
announcement was unexpected. Ted stares at Kate like she's gone completely mad.

“It's not our fault—we fell in love years ago.”

“Years ago?” Ted asks in unison with my thoughts.

Years ago
?

She turns toward me, staring up at me as she continues. “I fell in love with him as a little girl, when I saved his shovel from being lost at sea and later watched, amazed, as he surfed. I've just been waiting for him to come back. I didn't know it was him for a while.”

“You remember?” I say.

The people around us fade away. Nodding, she says, “I sometimes would dream that you rescued me. I forgot about it until Dad said your family vacationed at the inn. I realized it last night—you were that little boy who was surfing and wanted to build a sand castle with me.”

I touch her cheek and hear a guy say, “I knew it!”

Oliver laughs and picks up Kate, pulling our hands apart and spinning her around.

“I knew it! Didn't I tell you?”

He pats me on the back as if I've accomplished some great feat. I smile.
Yeah, thanks, man, for the interruption
. Kate's guy friend is still uncategorized in my head.

As we walk together toward class, it's official: Caleb and Kate are a couple.

KATE

I don't recognize the car in the driveway as I pull up to the house. Monica is coming over to get the play-by-play of me and Caleb, but this isn't her car.

When Monica and I talked earlier, she shook her head as if I were crazy. “I knew this would happen, I knew it! Didn't I warn you to stay away from him? It's just like something you'd go and do.” She ended with, “But I'm happy for you.”

I laughed with sudden tears welled up in my eyes. “You aren't, I know you aren't.”

She hugged me, holding on tightly. “I'm as happy as I can be for you. I mean, have your way with the hot Hawaiian hero who defends your honor. Have a long, passionate, scandalous affair. But love? Fall in love with a guy like that—oh, friend, whatever am I going to do with you?”

I said nothing as we hugged, then she pulled back and there were actual tears in her eyes. “I really do love you. It's a crazy world out there, and I want the best for you. Truly. I'm just worried. You weren't made to be broken like my parents and so many other people. I don't think you could be put back together. You love too deeply.”

From that conversation, all the attention at school, and rowing practice, I'm already drained. Somehow I need to spend time with Monica without falling asleep or missing Caleb too badly. I send him a text as I sit in my car and tell him to enjoy work, take care of our apple tree, and maybe after work we could meet for ice cream or something.

He sends a message back as I'm walking into the house.
Ice
cream? You speak my language—food
.

Through the door, I turn for the staircase when I hear Mom call me.

“Guess who surprised us with a visit?”

“If it isn't my little sister!”

I freeze and turn slowly, wishing this were a bad dream.

Kirsten is the last person I want to see right now. But there she is, walking from the living room.

“Hi,” I say in my most cheerful voice.

“My word, what are you wearing?” she asks, looking at my jeans and shirt that I put on after crew.

My parents adopted Kirsten after several miscarriages. Years later, they were stunned to find out Mom was pregnant and not seriously ill like they'd feared. Kirsten sometimes says that I was the miracle baby—and she doesn't say this nicely. My brother was the second miracle.

“It's the new teen Dolce,” I say, and for a minute she hesitates before shaking her head.

I follow her through the living room to sit at the bar that divides it from the kitchen, where her husband, Bobby, is stirring a heavenly scented pot of spaghetti sauce.

“Hey, kiddo. You look beautiful,” Bobby says, giving me a giant hug.

“Are you cooking pasta?” I say, perking up. Bobby is passionate about food. If my sister would let him, he'd have them both plump on his creations. I see several boxes of cereal and candy on the counter and know Bobby has brought gifts again.

“Can you believe this?” Mom says. “They flew out to show us the first sonogram picture.”

“Great,” I say as Mom hands me a surprisingly clear image of a baby. This is not the usual fuzzy sonogram picture that I've seen before. “Wow, it's so clear. Do you know yet?”

“We're keeping it a secret,” Bobby said with a sweet glance at Kirsten. It amazes me that Bobby can still seem in love with my sister, who treats him like her first child. Perhaps there's a lot more to this love than I've given credit before.

It's then I notice that Kirsten is showing a little. She's dressed with everything perfect and flawless—as usual for Kirsten.

“So how is little high school life?”

I stare at her without answering.

“I'm just kidding, Kate. I remember how important it all was to me when I was at Gaitlin too. I'm just glad to be beyond all that.”

I realize she and Bobby wear guy and girl sweaters from J. Crew, his brown and hers beige. That was probably Kirsten's idea.

“So I heard a rumor.” Kirsten sits at a bar stool, but I remain standing with my arms on the cool granite countertop.

“About whom?”
As if I care
.

“My little sister.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Don't act innocent with me. And I don't like hearing things about my own family from women in my yoga class in New York.”

“Sounds like it must be a lie.”

“It's a lie that you were flirting shamelessly with Caleb Kalani at the prom?”

My mouth drops. “How do you even know his name?”

“So it
is
true.” My sister gets that disapproving look that squints her eyes and hardens her mouth. Mom glances at me but doesn't say a word.

Bobby looks at me sympathetically. “Gossip travels fast among the bored socialite wives.”

Kirsten tosses him a look that shuts his mouth.

“What are you doing hanging around him?” she asks.

“How you know anything about him?”

“Do you know anything about that family?”

I shake my head in amazement at her. Sometimes I can't believe we've been raised by the same two parents. “I'm not talking to you about this.”

Kirsten taps her nails on the counter. “Well, too bad. Your attitude is freaking me out.”

“My attitude? What am I doing that's so freaky?”

“No sister of mine will date some poor family from the Hawaiian 'hood.”

“You are so stuck-up, it's unbelievable. Who are
you
to say anything?”

“Who am I? What's that supposed to mean?”

I close my mouth, realizing how my sister would take such a comment. Her eyes widen and her face turns red. “What— because I'm adopted I don't belong here either? That I am the same as someone like that?”

“No, you are saying that. I'm saying, where do you or anyone else get off being so judgmental of someone you don't know? Who acts like this anyway? We're not in some class struggle. If someone isn't wearing Versace and Burberry, we can't associate with them?”

“I can't believe you'd say that. I do more charity work than you do.”

“Only to make yourself look good. If it meant actually becoming friends with someone beneath you, you couldn't do that. You can volunteer to scoop mashed potatoes onto a plate or sing Bible songs with some kids in Laos, but let's see you go to coffee with someone out of your social class, let's see you do yoga with someone who doesn't have a Manduka yoga mat.”

The look on Kirsten's face was priceless.

“Caleb and I are dating, so how do you like that?”

She looks at me like I'm crazy. “You will regret it.”

The weeks pass and soon we're accepted as a normal couple at school. We have a routine. We say I love you before hanging up the phone. My school probation ends but I continue to volunteer my time at the hotel to help out Dad—who continues to be stressed and somewhat unavailable but at least is friendly to Caleb—and of course, to see Caleb. The one weekend a month that Caleb has off, we fill with drives down the coast, more rock climbing—I'm improving—and dinners in cozy seaside restaurants. Caleb loves to eat. I tease him that he has a bottomless stomach. His little sister Gabe comes over and plays with Jake sometimes. She beats him at Smash Bros. I sometimes go to Caleb's house and help with his Camaro that he says I've distracted him from finishing. He has dungarees that I wear and Gabe teaches me what the engine parts are, when Caleb isn't in the garage, so that I can try to impress him. He caught on pretty fast when I mentioned we should put some oil in the head gasket.

I see less of my friends. Monica complains relentlessly. Oliver is going through his own . . . something—smoking more, not acting his usual kick-back self. It reminds me of last year when he was drinking too much and testing out drugs like they were candy. He never wants me to know too much about the dark side of Oliver, but I always find out. Worry taps at me on the days that I drive him home, but he promises me that he's okay. My rowing competitions begin, crowding the schedule of time Caleb and I have together—but he comes to watch when he's not working, and we make plans to go sea kayaking this summer.

The sex issue continues to not be an issue. Caleb has this standard, wanting us to have sex when it's perfect. I think he means when we're married, but I can't even conceive of waiting that long. I'm trying not to think about it, though it's always there. One day I might just seduce him; I can tell he's struggling even more than I am.