06
Life at Westwood was quiet. Time seemed to move more slowly.
Sometimes I’d get stuck in a loop, wondering why it felt like no one in the world loved me. I was a good student. My name was alw-
ays on the honor roll.
When I was little, my mother told me that everyone loves a child who gets good grades. I grew up to learn that teachers love stud-
ents with good grades. My parents did not.
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10:58
Chapter 2
I buried myself in my books, waiting for the next exam, waiting for graduation. I stopped waiting for anyone.
My grades shot up. I placed first in the district–wide scholastic competition.
Standing on the podium, the hot summer wind whipping my hair across my face and puffing up my school uniform, I looked out at the sea of students in their blue and white uniforms. I saw envy in their eyes, and respect. The principal was at the microphone, showering me with every superlative he could think of.
The ivy crawled higher up the brick walls of the school, the buzz of the cicadas grew louder, the sunsets burned redder. In the seni- or hallway, the murmur of recitation grew more frantic. Everyone was trying to find a way to slow down time.
I never saw Jax again. It felt like I’d lost contact with that whole part of my life. They weren’t my friends, not really. They were Jax’s
friends.
When summer break started, I didn’t go home. Our house was too close to the Kings‘ estate. Ever since I’d transferred, the only thing my parents said to me was: Don’t let Jax see you. If you run into him, you turn and you walk the other way.
I was seventeen. I would be a senior next year.
It never occurred to my parents to ask if I was anxious about my final year of high school, if I was okay at all.
Under the hazy yellow glow of a streetlight, I sat on a park bench, reciting English verb conjugations to myself.
It was okay. Every formula I memorized, every word I defined, every practice problem I solved–they were all forging a path for me.
They would get me out of here. They would carry me toward a brighter future.
People walked past me, a steady stream of strangers. No one stops for anyone else.
Coming out of the library one afternoon, my phone rang. I answered it.
Silence.
I frowned, looking at the screen. An unknown number. “Hello?” I said, tentatively.
Still nothing. I hung up without a second thought.
“Aubrey!” Caleb Hayes was waving at me from across the street, jogging over from the gym. “Going to get dinner?”
I clutched my books. I could see his friends behind him, playfully shoving each other and trying to look like they weren’t waiting for him. “I was just going to get takeout,” I said. “You should go with your friends.”
“Come on, you can’t live on takeout. It’s unhealthy. I’m taking you out for a real meal.”
Before I could protest, he grabbed my arm and started walking.
He led me to a French restaurant downtown. The kind of place where men wore suits and women wore cocktail dresses. I looked
down at my own outfit–a baggy white t–shirt and denim shorts. Caleb was still in his red and white basketball uniform.
We stuck out like sore thumbs.
“Are you sure about this?” I whispered, pulling back. “We can’t go in dressed like this.”
He blinked at me, genuinely confused. “It’s just a place to eat, isn’t it?”
He said it with such confidence that for a second, it almost made sense.
Before I could argue further, a waiter approached us, taking in our attire with a polite, unwavering smile. “A table for two?”
“Yep,” Caleb nodded.
Chapter 2
“Very good. Right this way.”
He led us through the restaurant to a table by a large, dark window. “Would you care
for a view of the city?” he asked.
10:58
Caleb gestured to me with a tilt of his head. I glanced at my watch. It was just after six. The sun should be setting. I gave a small
nod.
The waiter smiled. “Of course.” He pressed a discreet button on the wall, and what I had thought was a tinted window turned out to
be a screen. It retracted silently, revealing a breathtaking panoramic view of the sunset over the city.
I think my jaw actually dropped. It was magical.
When I looked again, the waiter was gone.
Caleb slid a heavy menu across the table. “What looks good?”
The prices were astronomical. I hesitated.
He grinned. “Worried you’re going to bankrupt me?” His face was bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, making his eyes
sparkle.
“Everything’s… kind of expensive,” I admitted.
“Don’t worry about it. I can cover it. Order whatever you want.”
I pushed the menu back to him. “You pick. I’m not picky.”
He took it, a teasing glint in his eye. “Good to know. Easy to please.” He looked up. “How do you like your steak?”
“Not bloody.”
He considered this. “It gets tough if it’s too well–done. How about medium–well? Is that okay?”
“That’s fine.”
After he ordered, I leaned forward. “You know what I feel like right now?”
He took a sip of water, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “What?”
“A hick who just fell off a turnip truck.”
He laughed, a genuine, uninhibited sound. When Caleb laughed, two faint dimples appeared beside his mouth. He looked bright
and warm.
Looking at him, I suddenly thought of Jax.
1 hadn’t thought about him in a long time.
}
He had a dimple, too, just one. He rarely smiled, not really. Usually, it was just a faint curve of his lips. I used to poke the spot on his
cheek. “You should smile more,” I’d tell him. “You look handsome when you smile.”
After Chloe transferred, he started smiling all the time. Sweet, adoring smiles.
Looking back, I realized the universal truth of it all.
It wasn’t that he didn’t smile. He just didn’t smile for me.
We ate as the sunset reached its peak, and by the time we finished, the sky was dark. The public square outside the restaurant
was bustling with people.
“I had a really good time today, Aubrey,” Caleb said as we walked out.
14:58
Chapter 2
I looked up at him. He was looking down at me, a soft smile on his face.
“It’s my birthday today.”
“What?” I stared at him, horrified. “It’s your birthday? Then I should have paid! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
He sighed, putting on a pitiful expression. “I was afraid if I told you, you wouldn’t have come.”
“Of course I would have,” I insisted.
()
10:58
My mind started racing, trying to think of a gift I could get him on short notice.
Suddenly, I felt his warm breath on my cheek. He had leaned in close, his voice a low murmur. “Thinking about what to get me?”
He had bleached his hair blond a few days ago, an act that had gotten his picture put up on the school’s disciplinary board. The wind ruffled it, making him look like a golden retriever. “I want that little pouch you have,” he said.
He meant the sachet. He’d come to find me after school one day, and as I was packing my bag, a small, hand–stitched sachet filled with lavender had fallen out. He’d picked it up, shaking it gently. “Can I have it, Aubrey? Please?”
I’d said no. Because that sachet was supposed to be Jax’s birthday present. I had embroidered a tiny, intricate pattern on it with my
own hands.
It would never be his now, but it didn’t feel right to give it to Caleb. It felt like offering him something someone else had rejected.
I nodded firmly. “Okay,” I said. “But you’ll have to wait a few days. I’ll make you a new one.”
On the walk back to my apartment, Caleb asked me for the first time, “Where do you want to go to college, Aubrey?”
I tipped my head back, looking at the sparse scattering of stars. “Northwood University.”
“Why?”
“Because…” I hesitated. “Because I don’t like it here. It never snows. I want to see snow.”
Caleb was quiet for a moment, just nodding.
We reached the front of my building. “Well, I’ll see you,” he said. “Bye.”
I walked a few steps, then turned back. He was standing in the shadows, the faint smile still on his lips, but his eyes looked dark
and sad.
Something in my chest clenched. I raised my hand and waved. “Caleb! Happy birthday!”
He looked up, and a real smile broke across his face. He waved back. “You’re gonna get into Northwood, Aubrey! I know it!”
