by Carol Oates
Is this my fault?
He removed one hand from the wheel and raked his fingers through his hair.
Why does he hate me? I didn’t take my eyes off the silver fork flashing in the sun as he drove.
He doesn’t approve. His voice was steadier. But I expected as much. I scrutinized his face. There was more, but he wasn’t willing to share. His fingers gripped the wheel tighter, and I sat in silence, watching the town go past through the window and listening to Caleb’s breath easing and slowing as my own heartbeat pounded in my chest.
After a long few minutes, Caleb’s fingers slowly unclenched. He placed one hand on top of mine and removed the fork from my grip, dropping it to the floor at my feet. His fingers intertwined with mine reassuringly. I turned to him, but he didn’t move his eyes from the road. He released his hand before returning it to the wheel, his expression still careful and measured.
Welcome back, I sighed quietly. I was angry at Seth for not liking me, angry with myself for caring, and angry with Caleb for his silence.
He looked at me sideways for a brief moment and smiled a lopsided grin. Thanks.
When we reached Caleb’s house, I stalked through the door he held open for me and headed down the stairs. He followed behind me silently.
I stood in front of the fire and turned to him, irate.
Where have you been all this time? You said two weeks! He shrugged his jacket off and flung it on the arm of the sofa. I know, and I’m sorry. You understand I was doing this for us?
What, exactly? I barked.
He approached me smiling. Not yet, my love, just a little more patience.
I’m nothing if not patient, I grumbled sardonically and folded my arms over my chest. You said you’d tell me everything when you got back, so spill. Caleb came nearer and no matter how much I fought against it, my pulse sped up and butterflies filled my stomach. He placed his hand on the side of my face. His skin was so soft and warm; it was better than I remembered.
His thumb caressed my flushed cheek.
Not yet. This is a reunion. His warm breath brushed my lips, my knees felt suddenly weak, and my hands fell limply to his hips as he moved closer.
His hand found the back of my neck and tilted my head back before he pressed his lips to my skin. I gulped loudly; my resolve was weakening.
When? I choked.
After the prom, he breathed against the skin below my jaw.
It was only Wednesday; prom wasn’t on until Friday. A whole two days away.
Prom! I squealed pushing back from him. My body didn’t know what to make of my brain’s reaction. Tingles rushed up my arms when my hands touched his chest.
Why can’t you tell me now? I sulked. My patience is stretched to breaking point at this stage.
He sighed and took my hand, leading me over to the sofa. His brow creased, but his expression wasn’t as guarded as it had been in the past.
There is a lot to tell. Too much for the time we have before your aunt and uncle send out a search party. He chuckled, but we both knew they were perfectly capable of doing just that. Look, Triona. There are things about me you may find hard to understand, that may take time to sink in. I don’t want to rush through what will be the most important conversation of both our lives.
I pouted and tried in vain to pull my hand away. I knew I should be feeling differently. I should be holding him and kissing him, basking in the joy of being reunited. But there were answers I wanted. I knew it was probably futile, but I had to try.
I don’t care what they do. We’re leaving in less than a month anyway. Caleb smiled, making my stomach knot. I had actually missed that feeling.
Precisely. He lifted the hand I was trying to wrench away and kissed the palm.
I knew I was going to lose focus soon if he kept this up.
Which is why we shouldn’t antagonize them further at this moment in time.
I stared down at my knees. My face was tight, crumpled in frustration, and my eyebrows were tightly pulled together. It couldn’t look very attractive. I made a conscious effort to smooth out my features. They don’t seem very concerned about antagonizing me. I peeked up to him, keeping my head lowered, and saw the question on his face. They keep bugging me about what our plans are, asking what I’m going to do in London, I explained sourly and then tagged on sarcastically at the end, What I want to be when I grow up.
Caleb laughed lightly, stirring the air with the gentle vibration of his body and making the fragrant air around him even more potent. I glared at him and he stifled the sound with his hand.
Sorry He grinned sheepishly. So, what do you want to be when you grow up? His tone and expression were unmistakably teasing.
This irritated me beyond reasoning, and my blood began to boil inside me. That, combined with the frustration, intense curiosity, and a pinch of over stimulation from Caleb’s return, propelled me to my feet. That’s it! I scowled. I’ve had enough of cryptic Caleb for one day. He made no move to stand. I grimaced at him one last time and darted to the stairs. He was there before me, casually holding onto the rail, blocking my exit and smiling innocently. His eyes caught the light from the window and glimmered.
Please. His voice was so smooth it almost sounded like a purr. Don’t go. We haven’t seen each other in so long.
He was doing that strange thing he did sometimes, connecting straight into my brain. Making me want whatever it was he told me to. I blinked and shook my head.
Don’t you use that mojo on me, I shouted at him, turning away so I couldn’t see his eyes burning into me. My breathing was already erratic.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on forcing my breath into a regular rhythm, but his delicious scent was too close behind me, and I felt warm breath on my neck where my hair was pulled back. I froze rigid for the moment before his lips made contact, and his hands touched my waist, gliding down to my hips. As soon as I felt his body pressed against me, I melted back to him. My head fell to his shoulder, and I heard him groan. I couldn’t remember why I was leaving; I could barely remember who I was.
The physical need I felt for him in the pit of my stomach was building to a frenzy.
I gasped when he whipped me around and caught me in his embrace, a deep smoldering blue fire in his eyes. Caleb’s lips pressed hard to mine, and I could feel his heart pounding like a bass drum through his T-shirt. His sweet taste was overpowering. One of his hands slid down, and he swung me up into his arms. Seconds later I felt the fabric of the sofa touch my back. His lips hadn’t moved from mine. My fingers locked at his neck, my heartbeat rang in my ears, and my whole body felt as if it was overheating.
Caleb moaned — actually it was more like a growl, when his lips moved to my neck and slid hungrily across my collarbone. His breathing was rapid and shallow; in all the time we were together, he had never allowed himself to lose control so completely.
My eyes flashed open and stared at the ceiling. Caleb was the one who wanted to wait. My hands were on the taut muscles of his back, and I gulped. He wanted to wait until he told me everything. The ache inside me that wanted him so badly tried to make me forget, tried to hush me, but how far would the passion between us take him before he pulled away? I couldn’t stand it; I wanted to give in. If I allowed my body what it wanted and Caleb came to his senses, the fire burning inside would consume me.
Please, Caleb, I panted, breathless and trembling.
His lips tasted the flesh on my shoulder where he’d pulled my blouse aside, and his other hand held my leg at his hip.
Please, I pleaded again, unable to get more words out through my gasps as his fingers slipped along my thigh.
What is it, what’s wrong? he murmured against my ear sending a wave of pleasure breaking over me.
Don’t start something you won’t finish. I couldn’t bear it. My voice broke as I sucked in the hot air surrounding us.
His body tensed, his grip loosened, and in an instant he was gone, standing at the end of the sofa staring down at me
, panting and gripping one of the cushions in his fist. I’m sorry. I pushed my hands behind me to prop myself up. I felt like my skin was torn away from my body with him, leaving a raw, throbbing pain all through me.
Don’t be, I gulped. I didn’t want you do to something you’d regret. I paused to take a breath; my heart was about to explode. It’s self-preservation; it would have killed me if you stopped any later. His flaming eyes narrowed.
I know you; you’d have come to your senses and not — eh — I didn’t know what words to use.
Caleb sat beside where I still lay on the sofa. His chest was heaving. I wouldn’t be so sure about that, he said, a little shamefaced as he inhaled deeply. I missed you an awful lot.
Oh crap, don’t tell me when I finally manage to take decisive action on something, it’s the wrong action. I felt my face fall with disappointment, and I tried to sit up, though my limbs felt like jelly. Caleb righted me beside him.
But of course you were right to stop, he said solemnly. It wouldn’t be right, not yet. In a few days you’ll be much more equipped to make a decision about your future.
I huffed, remembering why I had been leaving. Caleb smiled, amused.
I couldn’t stay mad at him. As much as I hated to admit it, he was only trying to do everything right right in his eyes. I smiled back.
Good, he said standing up. I’ll be right back. I brushed myself off and fixed my hair. Caleb came back in under a minute with an envelope in his hand and sat on the ottoman in front of me.
What’s that? I asked eying the envelope.
This is for you. He offered me the envelope.
I attempted to take it from his hand, but quick as a flash he pulled his hand away.
Ah. He smiled. I want you to open this at home and think about it until Friday.
My curiosity was triggered as I took the envelope from him. What’s in it?
Something for when you grow up, he laughed.
I don’t believe you!
What? Caleb asked guilelessly.
You just couldn’t help yourself. I stood up and he stood with me. He couldn’t just let it go, there had to be one last sarcastic comment. Take me home, I ordered.
Triona Caleb went to put his hand on my shoulder, but I flinched away and brushed past him. I was teasing.
I want to go home, Caleb. Please take me home. I crushed the envelope in my clenched fist and rushed to the stairs, but again he was there first.
Be reasonable, Triona.
I squeezed my eyes shut and ignored the sound of his voice and the effects it was having on my body. What makes you think you are so much more mature than I am? I raged and opened my eyes.
Caleb’s eyes widened as if taken aback.
Just because you have money and a big house and a fast car. It doesn’t make you an old man. You’re only three years older than me. A dark brooding expression flashed across his face, but he said nothing.
Okay, then. I’ll walk. I tried to shove past him but he wouldn’t budge.
Caleb gave in and sighed. No, if you really want to leave, I’ll take you home.
There was a bleak silence between us in the car on the way back to my house. I got out, slamming the door after me, and thundered up the driveway, ignoring his calls to come back. When I got to my room, I shut the door, pushed the envelope Caleb gave me into my desk drawer, and threw myself on my bed glaring up at the ceiling. I was so angry it was easy to block out all the other feelings I usually had when Caleb wasn’t near me.
I knew this wasn’t a serious argument; I knew we would make up, but I wanted to punish him for making me wait again.
Chapter 10
Fire
I amazed myself by being able to keep my anger up over the next two days, though not without causing discomfort to myself. I refused Caleb’s calls, and when he waited for me outside school, standing beside his car on Thursday, I simply ignored him, driving past with Amanda and Ben, refusing to meet his eyes. I knew if I heard his voice or looked in his eyes, I would give in, and the enforced exile I banished myself to was to prove a point: no more waiting. I had to be sure that he wouldn’t back out on Friday, that he would fulfill his end of the bargain.
It was hard, and Friday was the worst. Roughly two-thirds of my class didn’t show up for school, instead busying themselves with preparations for the prom. No one got away with that excuse in the Pryor household. Ben and I were there along with Jonathan apparently the prom excuse didn’t wash in his home either but Amanda and Jen weren’t. It meant several of my classes turned into study periods because of all the empty desks, and I had nothing to distract myself from thinking about Caleb and even, at times, Seth. Why did he hate me so much? Did he think that I wasn’t good enough for Caleb? Or was it that we were leaving together? I racked my brain but couldn’t form a definite conclusion. It was a relief when the last bell rang.
Caleb was waiting outside, and I felt his eyes on me as I drove past. It was harder this time because I was alone, since Ben was getting a ride with Jonathan to his house. A bunch of guys from school were going to hang out, play video games, and generally do whatever guys did before throwing their tuxes on at the last minute. I dragged my feet up the stairs, wondering if I could get away with last minute preparations too. Caleb still planned to pick me up; the voice mail he left on my phone that morning was very clear. He also added that I wasn’t proving my maturity by ignoring him.
His voice was light-hearted, but I knew I’d gotten my point across. This was one promise he wouldn’t renege on.
I was surprised to hear muffled giggles and the sound of movement emanating from my room. I took the remaining steps two at a time and flung the door open. Apparently preparations were in full swing here, after all. Jen and Amanda had completely taken over my bedroom. My desk was strewn with every makeup and hair product known to man. Shoes, bags, and hair dryers lay scattered on the floor. My dress was hung on the outside of my wardrobe beside Amanda’s jade-green, spaghetti-strapped one, and Jen’s black dress was draped over the end of my bed with a fur stole over it.
I hope that’s fake, I muttered to their startled faces.
They must have been too wrapped up in what they were doing to hear me come in. Come to think of it, how did they get in? The key on my nightstand answered my question. Ben.
Of course, Jen stated matter-of-factly. Her long hair was twisted around large drum rollers. But this isn’t, she added. The bracelet Caleb gave me was laid across her delicate wrist. The string of diamonds and white gold glinted as she twisted it under the lamp beside my bed.
Yes it is, I laughed and came into the room closing the door behind me. I didn’t think it was fake.
No, Jen said assuredly. This is real and vintage. The dress too. She got up and stood beside my dress, running her fingers lightly over the fabric. I saw this dress on a website when I was looking for ideas on what to wear. It was sold at a charity auction for sixty thousand dollars in nineteen ninety-nine to an anonymous buyer.
How could she possibly remember all that? I grimaced at her and rolled my eyes when Amanda started coughing profusely, after splashing too much of some sort of powder from an enormous puff onto her face. How do you know it’s the same one?
Eh, the label, Jen said caustically at my apparently underwhelmed expression.
It couldn’t be the same dress, could it? It was only prom, after all. What are you doing here, anyway?
Amanda twisted in her seat, still blinking furiously. Caleb called and said to make sure you’re ready for seven.
He did, did he? I scowled.
Amanda sighed. Come on, Triona. You know this is stupid. You’re obsessively in love with the guy, you haven’t seen him in weeks, and now you’re ignoring him?
It looked like even if I hadn’t already decided I was going, I was out-numbered anyway.
A few hours into the primping and preening, I had to admit I was having fun. I couldn’t remember ever having done anything so girlie with my friends. My dark red ha
ir gleamed as a result of whatever concoction Amanda applied before setting it in long curls down my back, while Jen painted my nails blood red. Amanda was fixing Jen’s hair into a complicated twist at the back of her neck when the message alert on my phone buzzed. I dived across my bed to retrieve it, thinking it might be Caleb. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t phone or text him, seeing as technically we still weren’t speaking, but if he texted me, I could answer.
I guess the cold war is over, Jen snickered, looking sideways at me before Amanda, with both her hands, forcibly turned her head back to face the mirror.
I was shocked to see it wasn’t Caleb, or anyone else I would have expected for that matter. It was Seth.
Maybe we should try to be friends for Caleb. What do you think?
What is it? Amanda asked, not taking her eyes from Jen’s reflection in the mirror.
Nothing, just Seth with a reminder about work. Jen’s head shot sideways, making Amanda drop a jeweled clip she was trying to insert into her hair. So all that stuff the other day is forgotten about, is it? she questioned curiously.
I don’t really think it was about me, I lied as I texted back: Why not?
Right, Jen muttered, clearly not convinced.
I didn’t know why I was covering for Seth with my friends. Of course I knew he didn’t like me; I just didn’t know why. On the other hand, I knew all of us getting along would make things easier for Caleb.
Amanda glared at Jen before picking up the clip and trying again. I waited with my phone in my hand, eager to see what he’d say next, but I still almost jumped out of my skin when the alert went off.
Meet me at Caleb’s to talk. You might find it enlightening. :-)
I looked at the clock to see if I had time. I was particularly eager to go so I could offer the news to Caleb, my way of showing him I could be mature, and intrigued to hear what Seth had to say. I texted straight back.
See you there ASAP
I grabbed a pair of jeans from my wardrobe and started to tug them on.
