I can’t take it a second longer.
“Caleb?”
“What?” His response comes out clipped, like he’s already done with this conversation before it’s begun.
Another sign I’m about to ask the right thing.
“What are we doing?”
He sighs, and I can feel him run a hand over his face. “I’m not sure anymore, Delia.”
“Should…” I lick my dry lips and push out a worried breath. “Should we break up?”
Caleb rolls my way. On instinct, I reach out to brush away the lock of blond hair that falls over his eye. He grabs my hand, halting my movements, and I meet his stare. His dark blue eyes are sad, like he knew this was coming.
I know what he’ll say before he says it.
“I think so.”
Caleb gathers me into his arms as the tears begin to fall.
I’m sad, and though it shouldn’t, it surprises me. We’ve been together for six months now—quite a run when it comes to college relationships—and, well, I’m used to him…used to his touch, his smell, his smile. I’ll miss him, but I know he’s right. We should break up, especially before we start hating each other, which is exactly where we’re headed. We’ve started picking fights, waiting and begging for the other to call it quits. We’re too comfortable, too scared to call this what it is—over.
Until now.
“I could have loved you, you know.” His voice cracks and I pull away to find his eyes are glistening with tears of his own. “If we were at different points in our lives, if we didn’t have all this shit waiting for us on the other side of graduation, we could have been good together, Delia.”
“We really could have.”
Caleb sighs. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“Do you…” He gulps. “Do you want me to leave?”
“Can you stay? Can you hold me one last time?”
His smile is sweet, and it reminds me of the day I first met him at the campus coffeehouse.
With a backpack slung over shoulder, his hair disheveled, and a wrinkled dress shirt partially unbuttoned, he gave me the same smile he is now and asked if he could share my table with me. I had glanced around the shop, certain it had to be a joke.
I was a nobody. Everyone knew he was a somebody.
“Why?”
“Excuse me?” he asked, surprised I was questioning him.
“Why do you want to sit here?”
“Uh, my backpack is heavy as hell.” He hiked it up for show. “And there’s nowhere else to sit in the entire shop. Everyone’s here working on their finals and I’d like to do the same…if you’d be kind enough to let me sit with you.”
I peeked around, noting he was correct in his observation; the place was loaded with students, heads bent and noses stuck in books.
With reluctance, I caved. “Fine,” I said on a sigh. “You can sit here…on two conditions.”
“Name ’em, pretty girl.”
“Amendment: three conditions. No calling me pretty girl. No talking.” He bobbed his head like he’d known that was coming. “And no asking me out.”
He smirked, and it was one of those stop-you-dead-in-your-tracks smirks. “You assume that’ll happen?”
Waving a dismissive hand, I said, “With my sparkling personality, it’s bound to. Now sit and be quiet, mystery man.”
“It’s Caleb.”
I pinned him with a glare. “No talking, and I know who you are, Caleb Mills. You play baseball.” His eyes lit up, so I added, “And I hate baseball.”
Caleb chuckled, took a seat, and didn’t say a word the rest of the afternoon.
Our “accidental” study dates continued for a week, then he asked me out. I said yes and we’ve been together since.
Until now.
I wish with everything I have I could say Caleb is the one, but he’s not. I’ve known for a long time now, but I’ve been too scared to do anything about it. He’s a great guy—smart, kind, focused—and above all, I know he cares for me. I know he loves me, but it’s not in the kind of way we both need him to. I don’t love him that way either. We both know it. We’re better as friends, as Caleb Mills and Delia Devlin, not as Caleb and Delia, the “cutest campus couple to make it” as we were voted for the school gossip ’zine last spring.
“You promise we’ll still be friends, Delia?”
I smile against him. “I couldn’t imagine anything else, Caleb.”
* * *
Liam: I’ll need to reschedule our meeting and move it to next week.
Meeting? Reschedule? Why does my brother sound like a big business mogul and not the middle school teacher he is?
Ignoring his weirdness, I shoot over a quick response.
Me: Works for me. Let me know when you want to meet.
Liam: I’ll be in touch.
It’s official: he’s acting strange.
A shuffle of feet pulls me from the response I begin to type. I click off my screen and peek up to find Caleb emerging from the hallway, overnight bag slipped over his shoulder and box in his arms.
I give him a sad smile, and he returns it.
“I think that’s everything.”
“Caleb, I—”
“Come on, Delia. You don’t have to say anything. This is mutual, right? We work better as friends. We pushed for romance where we shouldn’t have, and this is for the best. We agreed, remember? So no more apologizing. Let’s have coffee and then you can give me a hug and walk me to the door. Deal?”
I wipe the errant tear rolling down my cheek and smile at what a sweet man he can be. I’ll miss that side of him. “Deal.”
He sets the box on the floor near the door and strides into the kitchen like we’re not breaking up right now.
“So, how’s life?” Caleb teases as he places his mug on the counter and takes a seat next to me.
“With wit like that, how could I ever let you go?”
He takes a sip of his coffee and smiles at me over the rim of the mug. “I know, I’m a catch.”
“You’re something, Caleb.”
“I’ll miss you.”
I grin. “I know.”
We sit together in silence. You’d think it’d be awkward or sad, but it feels comfortable, like we’re old friends.
After another cup of coffee each, Caleb stands with finality.
“I guess this is it.”
“I guess it is. Let me grab my coat. I’ll walk you down.”
He holds up a hand. “No, there’s no need for you to go all the way down there.”
“Caleb…”
“Delia, come on. Let me have my pride, huh? I don’t want to do the walk of shame with my ex.”
I grab at my chest, tears beginning to fill my eyes again. “That word sounds so harsh.”
“Shame?”
“No, ex. It stings.”
“It’s what we are.”
“I know, Caleb. I know.”
He spreads his arms wide and I smile, falling into them. He wraps me in the saddest hug of my life; I know it will be the last one I share with him that will ever feel this intimate.
“Don’t be a stranger, okay?”
“I won’t.”
He kisses the top of my head then lets me go. I wipe away the tear that’s managed to streak down my cheek as he picks up his bag and box of things.
I grab the door for him and watch with sadness as he steps over the threshold.
“Smile for me, pretty girl,” he says, turning back to me. “It’s not over. It’s the beginning of a new adventure.”
I give him the grin he’s wanting before he turns his back to me, leaving me standing in the doorway, staring after the boy I could have loved.
I close the door and give myself a shake.
“It’s not the end, Delia.”
“Are you talking to yourself again? It’s too early for that crap.” My roommate and best friend Zoe scuffles down the hall, curly caramel hair a mess, hazel eyes puffy from sleep.
“I need coffee ASAP.”
“There’s a fresh pot,” I tell her, pointing to the barely touched brew.
“What’s not the end, Delia?”
“Huh?”
She pours her coffee and dumps enough creamer in there for a village. I make a face as she blows on the hot liquid. “Don’t start on me. You know I like my coffee the same color as my skin, so just shut it.” I wrinkle my nose more and she ignores me, taking a sip of her morning brew. “What were you just talking about? What’s not the end?”
“Oh.” I brush a hand through my hair, tucking the long brown strands behind my ear. “Caleb and I broke up this morning.” Zoe lets out a gasp, sloshing hot coffee all over her hand. “Well, technically it was last night.”
“Last night? Broke up? What the hell, Delia! Why didn’t you wake me up? I could have been there for you.”
Since our first day of freshman year, Zoe’s been my rock. We met at orientation and have been inseparable since. After having to spend the last three years in the dorms, living in separate residences, we finally managed to score an apartment off campus this year. If we thought we were close before, it was nothing compared to now.
“You were sleeping. We talked, and we’re fine now.”
“Fine as in you worked your shit out and you’re back together?”
“No. Fine as in we’re friends. We made the right choice.”
She plops down on the counter, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “I…I can’t believe it. You and Caleb, huh? That’s…wow.” She huffs, blowing a stray hair out of her face. “I never expected it. I believed you’d last the long haul. He was such a good guy.”
I nod, taking a seat next to her. “Is, Zoe. He’s still a good guy. It was mutual.”
“So we don’t hate him?”
I smile sadly. “No, we don’t hate him.”
“Good, because he has one hell of an ass.”
She bumps my shoulder and I laugh. When I realize it doesn’t hurt to do so, I know I’ll be okay.
Chapter 2
Liam: Who is this?
Me: Um, Delia…
Liam: Who?
Me: Your sister?
Liam: I don’t have a sister. Is this a joke?
Me: Liam? What, no! Are YOU joking?
Liam: Who’s Liam?
My phone lights up in my hand, and I stop midstride. The screen says Liam, but I don’t believe that to be true now. I quickly make my way to a bench as curiosity fills me and I hit the accept button. “H-Hello?”
“Who is this?” The voice is gruff and not familiar to my ears.
I glance around campus, seeing if I can find someone lurking behind a tree, playing a prank on me. Nothing appears out of the ordinary.
“This is Delia,” I answer. My eyes fall to slits with suspicion, and though the caller can’t see me—or I hope he can’t—I know my tone conveys my qualms.
“Delia?” An electric spark races down my spine with the way the stranger says my name. “What the hell kind of name is that?”
Okay, forget the shiver. Screw this douche.
“The name I was given. Now who in the hell is this?”
“I think there was a mix-up.”
“No shit, Sherlock. Doesn’t answer my question though.”
The man on the other end of the line snorts. “You have a mouth on you, huh?”
“It appears that way. But—”
“I still haven’t answered your question. Yeah, I heard you. I’m Zach, and you’re not Mr. Warner, are you?”
“Do I sound like a Mr. Warner to you?”
He chuckles again, and I feel it all over my body. I hate that I feel it. “No. You sound much cuter than him.”
“So you think Mr. Warner is somewhat cute?”
“Ah, a sense of humor too. I can get on board with that.”
Something dawns on me: he’s flirting with me, and I kind of like it.
It’s been one week since Caleb and I broke up, and I wish it wasn’t true but the breakup has affected me more than I expected it would. We’ve been cordial in the class we share, even going as far as to meet afterward and grab a coffee, but things have changed. The dynamics of my friendships with others have already shifted. I’m not star third baseman Caleb Mills’ girlfriend anymore; I’m just Delia, journalism major and all-around normal girl, and I’m mostly okay with it.
“How did you get this number?”
“My roommate. We work together and he’s sort of my assistant, taking my calls for me. He wrote your number down as a client call from the home office.” He sighs, and it’s filled with irritation. “I was on my way out of the apartment when I sent him a text. I must have entered it into my cell wrong.”
“You communicate with clients via text?”
Zach tsks playfully, and I realize I’m on the phone with a stranger and there’s a smile plastered across my face. I shouldn’t still be on the phone and I shouldn’t be smiling, but what’s the harm in a friendly conversation, right?
“Are you judging me, Delia?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“This mistake might cost me a client.”
“That’s not my fault.”
“I didn’t say it was, simply making a statement.”
“It’s not a fact though…”
I can practically hear him roll his eyes. “Observation, whatever, but I didn’t say it was your fault.”
“You sound like you blame me,” I retort.
“Never,” he promises. “I should figure out how to get in touch with my client though.”
“That would be a wise choice to make. Why did you have to reschedule?”
“Are we getting personal now, Delia?”
“Is that a personal question?”
“Depends on my answer, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose it does.”
“I was needed. Had to help mend the broken heart of my roommate. Tinder date gone bad and all that.” I hear what sounds like a refrigerator door opening in the background, then there’s the soft hiss of a bottle opening. “And you assumed I was your brother, right? Is he upset you missed your date?”
“We usually speak before our lunch dates and he called to reschedule. I thought it was weird he was mentioning it again, but I didn’t think much of it. He’s a strange character so it wasn’t too unusual.”
“And how did he call you if you thought this was his number?”
“He used his landline.”
“Those still exist?” he says with surprise in his voice.
“Apparently so.”
“Hmm…” I hear him take a drink of whatever it is he’s drinking. “Quite the coincidence, huh?”
“The biggest of big,” I agree.
“So I’m the only one on the outs here.”
“It seems that way.”
“Unfortunate.”
“For you.”
“There’s that sass again, Delia.”
“There it is,” I deadpan.
We’re quiet, and I check to see if he’s still on the line.
“Well, this has been fun,” he says after several seconds of silence.
I hate to admit it, but I’m sad our call is ending. For the first time in a week, I feel normal and not like Caleb’s ex-girlfriend who everyone gives sad smiles to. Don’t they know it was mutual? Don’t they know I wanted this and don’t need their pity? Don’t they know I’m okay? Sure, I miss Caleb. He was an incredible boyfriend, the perfect guy, really, but he wasn’t my perfect guy, and we’re both okay with it.
“Sorry about your meeting, Zach.”
“Sorry about…well, nothing, Delia. It was a pleasure talking with you.”
“You too.”
We stay on the line for several beats until he finally disconnects the call.
Sitting there on the bench, I watch the bustle of students running from class to class. What in the hell just happened? How did that happen? And why in the hell did he call me? He’s brave, because I’d ne
ver hit the telephone icon and strike up a conversation with a stranger.
But maybe that’s part of my problem. I let myself fall into these patterns and then when I grow bored, I don’t do anything about it. Hell, I did the same thing with Caleb. I grew too comfortable with him and he stopped revving my engine, but I allowed us to keep going on even when I knew we’d be better as friends than anything else.
“Hey, you headed to 103?”
Speaking of…
I shield my eyes against the sun and stare up at him. “As soon as I can convince myself to move off this bench.”
“Dreading the quiz?”
“Are they ever fun?”
“That’s an excellent point.” He extends a hand and pulls me up. “So, what has you smiling like this?”
I can’t help it—my smile grows wider and my face heats up.
“Oh! I’m guessing the proper question is who has you smiling.”
It should feel awkward; the question should sound wrong coming from Caleb, but it doesn’t. He already feels like an old friend. We don’t have the dreaded “ex vibes” going on.
“You know, I’m not entirely sure who he was, but he wasn’t horrible to talk with.” Caleb gives me a funny look but I wave him off, hoping he’ll let it go for now. I grab his arm, pulling him along. “Come on or we’ll be late. I’ll tell you about it later.”
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Acknowledgments
I always have to give a special, and very well deserved, message to my Marine. You make my world go ’round. Thank you for being you. For getting me. For always being there. I love you more than words can explain. Also, thanks for always letting me put your anecdotes in my novels. You’re the real MVP.
Can’t Text This Page 24
