I’ve got to talk to Max again. Now that I know it wasn’t Caleb’s mother or the police who went through his email. I think about calling him, but I know voices carry in this house. I think about texting him, but I don’t even know what to say. He’s been through this room. Maybe he’s been through his email, too. Did you hack into Caleb’s account? What were you looking for? Did you find it?
Can I see it?
I look out the window, but there’s no movement at his house. And anyway, Eve is downstairs. I can’t just leave with no explanation.
Instead, I start on what’s left on the shelves, boxing away the trophies (karate, youth soccer, math Olympiad, lacrosse championship). All gold figurines that look identical, frozen in time.
Caleb Evers, Captain is written on the bottom of the prep state championship trophy. My nail hooks and locks in the groove of his name.
Hailey and I had driven nearly an hour. Well, neither of us had our license back then yet, so Max drove. Except Max didn’t have a car yet (Still saving, he mumbled, anytime we teased him about it), so he borrowed Caleb’s, since Caleb was on the team bus.
“Sophie said you guys broke up,” Hailey said from the backseat, leaning between the center gap.
“Yep,” Max said, keeping his eyes on the road.
“Hmm.”
I spun in the passenger seat, gave her a look. One that said Stop. It had only supposedly happened the day before. Caleb would be thrilled, I thought. Though he seemed to have grown to like Sophie just fine. Or, he tolerated her, for Max’s benefit. Honestly, I didn’t get the animosity. She was perfectly unimposing, unassuming, un-everything.
“What happened?” Hailey asked.
“Hailey,” I said.
She gave me the What? look.
“Nothing,” Max said. It was the beginning of May then, and they’d been together longer than me and Caleb. It seemed like a long time to be together to call it off for no reason.
“There had to be something,” she said.
“Hailey,” I said.
What? There does, her look said.
“No, nothing happened.” He paused. “Nothing ever really happened.”
“Oh,” Hailey said.
“Oh,” I said. It seemed a long time to stay together without a reason, too. But then I thought, maybe it was easier to stay with the stream of momentum, no concrete cause to call it off. And I got this slight unease in the pit of my stomach.
“And if you repeat that, Hailey, I will throw your favorite shoes into the river,” Max said.
“Violent threats really aren’t necessary,” she said. “I’m already trusting you with my life right now. This car does not feel like the safest means of transportation, no offense to Caleb.”
The demarcations in the pavement sounded like a steady beat as we drove along the highway in silence for the next half hour, passing exits and town signs and strip malls.
Caleb called while we were still on the way. “Hey,” he said, “bus just arrived. How’s Max doing with my baby?”
“His hands are currently at ten and two, no worries.”
He laughed, dropping his voice. “I wasn’t talking about my car, Jessa.”
I warmed, picturing him tipping his head, speaking lower. All unease currently gone. I tucked myself into the corner of my seat, lowered my voice. “We’ll be there soon. Really soon.”
“Tell Max to drive faster.”
“Max,” I said. “Drive faster.”
“I need to see you before the game,” Caleb said.
“We’ll be there.”
I had felt so essential to his existence then. So important, as his teammates parted to let me through before the game. So needed as we snuck into the locker room to fool around in the ten minutes before their pregame warm-ups.
Until his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he groaned. He frowned at the display and said, “I’m so sorry, I have to take this.”
Then he walked away, leaving me in the corner of the guys’ locker room, to plan my own escape.
His voice echoed in the empty space. “Yeah. I’m here. Are you?” I assumed it was Eve, who was set to arrive later with Mia. He hooked around a corner, and I heard a door swinging open and shut.
And then I thought: Oh, crap. And then: What the hell?
I saw too many shadows passing the front door, and didn’t want to be caught exiting on my own. I looked for other escape routes, then heard a stampede of cleats as a group of guys entered the locker room. I hid in the closest stall, and texted Hailey: SOS. Stuck in boys locker room. Hiding in stall. Ideas??
Two minutes later, I heard the door fling open, and Hailey’s voice booming through the room.
“Turn around, boys!” Hailey declared. “I need to use the bathroom, but the line’s too long next door.”
The shock must’ve gotten to them, because nobody said anything, and nobody stopped her. I opened the stall door when I heard her footsteps approach, and she raised an eyebrow. “Ready?” she asked. She held up her fingers, counting down from three, grabbed onto my arm, and then we bolted.
And because it was the opposing team, they didn’t know us by name. Could only guess as Hailey and I darted by in a blur.
Max was laughing from the bleachers when we returned, apparently in on the plan. “Never a dull moment with you two,” he said.
I saw Eve arriving, and Mia abandoned her mother to scramble up the bleachers toward us instead.
Max got up to make room for Mia to squeeze between us, and I leaned toward Hailey and asked, “Do you like Max?”
She grinned noncommittally, leaning over to check him out as he was engaged in conversation with a guy on the other side. “What’s not to like about Max?” Just then, his eyes shifted to mine—a wide smile that reached his brown eyes.
Tall, with dark hair and a lean, athletic build, and a way about him that felt effortlessly comfortable, that put others at ease. It was true: there wasn’t much to dislike about him. Not the way he looked, or smiled, or acted. He treated his friends well. He treated everyone well. I remembered the way he came back for me in the subway station, the way he gripped my hand and got me through.
“So?” I said, prompting her.
“So he just broke up with Sophie, who happens to be a friend of mine. That kind of makes him off-limits. It’s in the code. Like, if I were to hook up with Caleb one day.”
“Oh my God, don’t you dare,” I said.
She smiled, her eyes squinting. “See?” She leaned around me once more, to look. “Damn shame, though. Seriously.”