by Mia Belle
I rummage some more, pulling out various items: a weary-looking plush rabbit I used on my first show and its accompanying hat. On the bottom of the box is a disc. I haven’t seen that thing in over ten years and have forgotten it’s even in here. I thought my dad threw it out.
I sweep it out of the box and hold it between my fingers, watching the light reflect off the back of the disc, forming a rainbow. A hard swallow makes its way down my throat.
Slowly, I scramble to my feet and insert the disc into my laptop. I bend forward, my eyes glued to the screen as the video starts playing. A face flashes on the screen, her bright smile nearly blinding me.
Mom.
She sets the camera down in the living room and lowers herself on the sofa, her face lit with an even wider smile.
“I’m ready!” she calls in the distance.
A few silent seconds pass before four year-old-me, dressed in a red and black magician’s outfit, including a cape, enters the room with my arms raised. “Introducing Caleb the Magnificent!”
Mom claps enthusiastically, whooping as well.
“And?” a male voice outside the room demands playfully.
I roll my eyes. “Okay, and Maxwell the Magnificent.”
Dad skids into the room, he, too, dressed in a red and black outfit, his long blond hair pulled into a ponytail down his back.
Mom claps again, and Dad takes an exaggerated bow.
“Hey.” I pout. “Not fair. I’m supposed to be the star.”
Chuckling, Dad gathers me in his arms and raises me over his shoulders. “Sorry, little man, but you’ll have to fight for performing space. Then our lovely audience member will decide if you’ve earned it.” He winks at my mom.
“Fine.”
Giving me a tickle that makes me giggle at the top of my lungs, Dad lowers me to the floor and motions for me to begin.
I grab my shiny new deck of cards and approach my mom, starting the trick.
Sitting here watching this video, I almost laugh at how serious I was as I worked on the trick. Almost as if I saw this as a real performance. Behind me, Dad watched with pride and fascination.
The next trick is a little more difficult and my dad keeps trying to confuse me, prove I’m a fake. But I pull through and even almost convince him that magic truly exists.
When my show is over, Dad directs me to the center of the room, asking our audience member what she thought of my performance.
“Was he worth the money?” he asks, a smile teasing his mouth.
“Every penny,” Mom responds, beaming at me.
“And would you watch his show again?”
“Definitely. This little boy will be the greatest magician in the world.”
I shake my head. “No one can ever be as good as Daddy.”
Dad scoops me in his arms and kisses my cheek. “Of course you will. And we’ll have our own show together when you’re older.”
My eyes brighten. “Really?”
“Of course. How could the world miss out on Caleb the Magnificent?”
Mom stands and pulls me into her arms. “Now it’s time for the wonderful magician to take a bath and go to sleep.”
“Ugh, no. I wanna do another trick.”
“Tomorrow, honey. Remember, there’s always tomorrow.”
I scowl. “Okay.”
The video stops playing and I lean back in my seat, my vision a little blurry. There was no tomorrow because my mom died in a car accident the next day. Thinking back, I can’t remember my dad mourning her. Maybe he wore a brave face for my sake.
It was just the two of us for the next six years until my dad went to prison. It’s hard to imagine that the man in that video was a scam artist. He seemed so normal, so fun. I guess I never really knew him.
I wipe my eyes and rewatch the video a few more times. As far as I know, this is the only one left. I had many more, but I assumed they’ve gotten lost over the years.
Needing to do something instead of sitting here and replaying the past, I brush out of my room and make my way toward the front door. No one seems to be around. My aunt and uncle are probably watching the news in their room, Aidan’s probably out. Zane’s most likely in his room working out or sketching. Or he might be chatting with Lia. Their rooms are opposite one another, so it’s easy for them to exchange a few words. My room doesn’t face anything, just the wall of her house.
I pull the front door open and step into the October evening air. I breathe in deeply, providing much-needed oxygen to my lungs. Ever since I watched those videos, it felt like they turned to stone.
My legs freeze in place as I pass Lia’s house. She’s sitting on her porch, her elbows resting on her knees, her palms pressed to her cheeks. Deep in thought.
I bring myself over to her. “Hey.”
Her head snaps up and she looks at me like she doesn’t recognize me. Then a small smile teases her lips. “Hey.”
Chapter Fifteen
Lia
“Can I sit?” Caleb asks me, gesturing to the spot near me on the porch.
“Of course.” I scoot over to give him room.
He drops down beside me. “What are you doing out here?”
“Thinking.”
“Sounds like fun.”
I frown. “They’re good thoughts and bad thoughts.” I inhale a deep breath. “Today was my mom’s two-month anniversary of death. So I’ve been sitting out here and remembering…everything.”
He reaches for my hand and gives it a light squeeze. “Thinking is good. Remembering is good. You’re lucky, you know. I was only four when my mom died. My memories are kind of jumbled. It’s getting harder and harder to remember her. But you’ve shared many years with your mom.”
I’m quiet as I think it over. He has a point. I can’t imagine what it must be like for him. To have been so small when he lost his mom. “You’re right,” I tell him. “But it’s still hard.”
He wraps his arm over my shoulder, tugging me close to his chest. I catch a whiff of dish soap as well as chocolate, as if he baked cookies or a cake today. “Of course it is,” he says softly. “I’m not trying to compare our losses. I’d never do that. I’m just trying to make you feel better. You should hold onto those memories, Lia. With both hands.”
I rest my head on his shoulder, shutting my eyes and feeling the wind blow through my hair. My curls are a little unmanageable today and I hope they’re not whacking Caleb in the face.
“Thanks for that. It helps me feel better knowing I shared many happy memories with her, ones I’ll cherish for the rest of my life.”
He lowers his head to mine, so close that our cheeks rub against one another. We sit like this for a few minutes, with me thinking about my mom and the fact that my head is lying on Caleb. It feels nice, right. And he smells good. Very good.
“My dad’s falling apart,” I say, so low I’m not sure he can hear me. “He tries to be strong for me, but it’s wrecking him.”
Caleb lifts his head off mine, his eyes wide with concern. “I’m so sorry, Lia. Is there anything I can do? Anything my aunt and uncle can do?”
I shake my head. “Thanks for offering, but he promised to see someone. He went out a few hours ago, and I’m pretty sure he’s taking care of himself. I told you because I needed to tell someone.”
His head resumes resting on mine, cheek sweeping across mine. “Of course you can tell me. You can tell me anything.”
I remove my head from his shoulder, gazing into his eyes. “What about you? You seem bothered about something. Why are you out so late?”
His cheeks puff up as he releases a heavy sigh. “Wanted to go for a run to clear my head.” He shrugs. “Aidan keeps telling me it’s a great way to clear your head, so I wanted to give it a go. But then I found you, and honestly I’d rather sit here with you than go for a run.”
I cock my head to the side. “We could go running together. Or we can stay here and talk. Whatever you want.”
A look passes over his face, on
e I can’t read. It’s almost like he’s being torn from the inside, yet filled with hope at the same time. Reaching into his back pocket, he produces his phone and unlocks it.
“I found something in my room about an hour ago,” he tells me, his voice a monotone, his gaze on the trees in the distance. “I was rummaging through old boxes and came across it.” He taps his phone, clicking on a video. He holds it out between us.
This must be a home video. Caleb’s around four or five, and his mother is still alive. He and his dad have fun performing magic tricks for her. Caleb is so adorable in his little magician’s outfit.
His mother was so supportive of his dream to be a magician like his dad. It’s so sad yet happy at the same time. Sad that she’s gone, but happy to learn a little about her and her relationship with her son.
When the video ends, Caleb can hardly look my way and as I watch him, I notice his eyes overflowing with tears. He quickly swats them away. “Sorry,” he says, still not glancing my way.
I slip my hand into his. “It’s not something to be sorry about, Caleb. I know how much you miss her.”
He finally turns to me, his face filled with uncertainty. “I’ve been crying all this time. Thought the tears dried up, but I guess not.” He squeezes my hand. “Thanks for helping me feel better. You’re really a wonderful person, Lia.”
He bends close, his mouth inches from mine, and my heart skips a beat. His lips brush against my cheek, featherlike and sweet. He keeps them there for a little while, and my tummy does a few summersaults.
When he draws back, my face nearly cries for him to return them there. My cheek feels too cold and lonely now.
Caleb takes my other hand and places it over our interlocked ones. He gives me his usual girl-melting smile that only makes the sensation in my stomach intensify.
We remain out here enjoying each other’s company for maybe an hour. We talk here and there, about the house a few blocks down who has the TV on so loud we can hear it all the way from here, about school. We stay away from serious topics like dead mothers and murderous fathers. In this hour, my problems don’t exist. It’s just me and this super kind, awesome guy.
Caleb tucks his phone into his back pocket and gets to his feet. “I think I’d better head home.” He smiles warmly. “Good night, Lia.”
“Good night.”
I watch him walk away, the events of what happened galloping in my mind. His kiss was so sweet and soft, and it still sends a tingle down my back.
I sit out here for a little while, thinking about Caleb, when I spot someone trudging in the distance. It takes me a second to realize it’s Aidan. His hands are in his pockets, his mind seeming to be lost in thought.
“Aidan,” I call as he passes my house.
He stops in place, his head jerking up. As his eyes land on mine, he gives me a small smile and wave.
“Hey,” I say. “Want to sit?”
He wavers, his gaze flicking from me to his house. “Sorry, Lia. Maybe another time.”
I try not to look disappointed. “Okay, good night.”
He nods and drags himself to his house. I’ve never seen him that way and can’t help wondering what’s wrong.
Chapter Sixteen
Aidan
Maybe it was a mistake to come to this party. This guy Alfonzo from Willow Lake Academy’s house is huge, probably enough to fill the entire student body. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say every single student is here.
Many kids are either drunk, high, or making out. It’s not much different from the parties I used to attend, it’s just a little fancier. Even the booze.
J-man, Burke, Blaze, Charlie, and Emmet waste no time introducing me to as many girls as they can. I try to tell the guys over and over that I’m not looking for a girlfriend right now, but they keep laughing in my face.
“Who said anything about a girlfriend, man?” J says. “I told you the girlfriend thing isn’t worth it.” He nods toward the many girls dancing and drinking. “Which do you want to bang first? Hey, April!” He hollers at someone.
A girl wearing the tiniest shirt and skirt pats the guy she’s talking to on the back and saunters over to us, cup of beer in hand. She studies me from top to bottom and a large grin breaks out on her face. “Never seen you before,” she purrs.
“He goes to Willow High,” Blaze tells her.
“Pity.” She narrows her eyes curiously. “I know everyone who goes to that shitty school, but I’ve never seen you around.” She runs her finger across my chest. “What’s your name?”
“Aidan.” I gently pull her hand off. “I moved here a few weeks ago.”
She grins again, her finger skipping down my arm.
The guys duck away, leaving me and April alone. She grabs my arm, tugging me to the backyard of the house, where we sit on a swing.
She bends close, but I pull away.
“Come on,” she says, bringing her mouth toward mine. “I can see how lonely you are, and lonely guys are my specialty.”
I place my hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back. “I don’t know what the guys told you, but I have a girlfriend.”
She lifts a brow. “According to them, that girl doesn’t give you the time of day. I’ll help distract you.” She bends close to kiss me, but I once again gently push her back.
“No, I don’t want to be distracted. Look, you seem like a nice and smart girl. Why do you throw yourself at guys like that?”
She shrugs, a wide smile on her face. “Because it’s fun? This is high school. Why should I settle down with one guy when I can have as many as I want?”
“For self-respect?”
Her eyebrows furrow.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I don’t know you and have no right to judge you.”
“Right, you don’t. And anyway, I don’t throw myself at guys. They come to me. That gives me power.” She gets to her feet. “If you don’t want to screw around, that’s fine.” She walks off.
I bend forward, raking my hands through my blond hair. I really shouldn’t have come here.
Heading inside to tell the guys I want to take off, I find them huddled in a circle in the kitchen. As soon as the door shuts behind me, they break apart.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
Burke shrugs. “Sure.”
I glance from one to another. “What were you whispering about?”
J looks around. “Where’s April?” He snorts. “Let me guess, you didn’t want to get with her because of that chick you like.”
“I’d rather not talk about it. Can someone please drive me home?”
“You’re not leaving so soon, Armstrong.” J wraps his arm over my shoulder, leading me into the living room. He grabs two beer bottles and chucks one at me. After dropping down on the floor, he twists off the cap and downs half of it in one gulp.
I sit down next to him, rolling my bottle between my hands. J nods at it. “Not gonna drink?”
I shake my head. “I promised myself I wouldn’t get drunk again.”
He snorts, reaching for my bottle and guzzling it down. “I’m not supposed to be here, supposed to be on my best behavior. Shh, don’t tell anyone. But I need to forget about the shit in my life.”
“You mean losing football.”
I understand him, because I was just like him. Hell, I still am just like him. Lost.
“My friends don’t know how good they have it,” he says. “Bright futures. Dreams and all that shit.” He grunts. “See they’re not getting high or wasted? Don’t want to jeopardize their football careers. But me? Hell, I say bring it on.” He yells at a guy to fetch him a beer and the guy obeys like J’s the president. He doesn’t thank him, just tells the kid to get lost.
“Listen, man,” he slurs. “If someone screws you over, you have to make them pay.” He nods toward his friends, who are seated on the sofas surrounded by girls. “You wanna know what we were talking about? Revenge. Someone wrong me. And they’re gonna pay.”
“Wronged you how?”
He guzzles down some more beer. “Stole everything from me, and because of that my dreams are over.” He squints at me. “Heard you got an injury and that’s why you can’t play. You got tackled?”
“Yeah.”
“And did you hurt him?”
I stare at him. “What? Of course not. Accidents happen on the field.”
He shrugs. “If I were you, I’d mess him up so bad he’d wish he never played football. But you’re too much of a fucking goody two-shoes.” He laughs so loud and hard I bet they can hear it on the moon. “Anyway, this asshole who fucked me up? They’re going to pay. You bet your damn ass they’re gonna pay.”
“Was it an accident, too?” I ask.
He snickers. “Fuck no. You had no control over what happened to you, but I’m not about to let that little shit get away with it.” He slams his fisted hand into his other palm. “And maybe you can help us. The more, the merrier.” He chuckles, drunk off his ass.
He scrambles to his feet, heading over to the stoners and dropping down beside them. I feel sorry for him, that his dream was taken away. But I’m not sure about this whole revenge thing. I don’t think I should get involved.
I remain on the floor, thinking about the past year, when I’m bombarded with many girls, each vying to dance with me. A few try to lug me to my feet, but I tell them I’m not in the mood. Soon, a group of maybe twenty surrounds me, pulling me to my feet and dragging me to the dance floor. A few grind their bodies against mine.
I can’t take it any longer. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to see everyone getting high or hammered. And I definitely don’t want to be forced to dance with these girls.
There’s only one girl I want to dance with.
After texting the guys that I’m leaving, I march over to the front door and barge into the fresh air outside. The town’s small, but Alfonzo’s house is at the other end, so it’s quite a walk. That’s fine, though, since it gives me a chance to clear my head.
My new friends are great football players and I finally feel like someone when I hang out with them. But it’s not cool that they keep crapping on my wanting to have a girlfriend. J is just as lost as I am, which is why I want to try to help him feel better. To be there for him. His friends have no idea what he’s going through. They can follow their dreams while he can’t. I understand his pain.
