Chapter 14:Resonance
Each time they kissed,Caleb heard music . . . or was it poetry? He couldn’t be sure, buthe knew what the thing felt like. Cotton candy melting under histongue. Gliding weightless through the water, then coming up forsweet, sweet air before diving back in.
Perhaps what he heard waspoetry set to music. A song then. Because each time he and Francokissed, he felt his insides vibrate, like a thumb gliding acrosspiano keys. His heart became a fast-slapping bass line he felt inhis throat. Their kisses were like the notes of a violin, swellingthen dipping, but always pulsating.
Each time a kiss wouldend, the beautiful song would vanish like bubbles. But it was fine,because Franco would look at him with a smile rippling about hislips and say, “Okay there?” And Caleb would smile back becauseanything Franco said was music to his ears.
* * *
“Wherehave you been?”
His mom’s clipped voicepierced what should’ve been dead air. Instead, there she was curledup on the couch, face illuminated by the light from the television.Its volume was set to minimum, so the anchor onscreen was merelywhispering the early evening news. Caleb forced his arm to move,closing the door behind him.
“School project meeting.”The lie came out easily. He blew out his cheeks, acting pissed. “Iwanted to leave early but I couldn’t.” He asked casually, “Why areyou home early?”
“Migraine.” She wasstaring at him like he’d sprouted a third head. “Did you get ahaircut?”
Oh, shoot.He had forgotten about his hair. That afternoon,he’d gone through the usual ritual of skipping class andaccompanied Franco to the salon. With just one of his smiles,Franco had convinced Caleb to sit on a big swivel chair as he gavethe stylist specific instructions: shaved on the left side, therest of the hair parted to the right, causing Caleb’s bangs tothicken and flop over one eye. It made him look edgy, like someonewho went clubbing until the wee hours of morning.
Caleb had planned to “fix”his hair, to make the style less obvious when he got home. But hereit was, paraded in front of his mom in all its blow-dried,salon-shiny glory. He decided on a new tactic.
“Do you like it?” Caleblowered his chin and twisted his neck to allow her a better view.“Our English prof didn’t come in and Ginny dragged me to the salon.She had this crazy idea of giving me a makeover.”
“Hmm.” His mom’s face wasblank as she turned off the television. “I texted you but I didn’tget a reply. I got worried.” Her feet felt around for her slippers.“I’ll go up now.”
It was the guilt card,brandished with such efficiency that Caleb felt it stab his gut.“Sorry, Ma.” He crossed the room and planted a kiss on the top ofher head.
Her body stiffened. “Haveyou been smoking?”
His heart was pounding,but he kept his voice steady. “Of course not.”
“You smell like anashtray, Caleb.” His mom’s voice was tight as she looked up at him,intense gaze divining the truth from his face. “We’ve always talkedabout how your Tito Roger died of lung cancer. Smoking is an evil,evil thing.” She narrowed her eyes. “I knew Ginny was a badinfluence.”
His voice exploded. “Ma,Ginny doesn’t smoke!” His mind scrambled for another explanation.“It was one of my group mates. I’ve never even tried smoking. Youknow I hate the smell.”
It felt like a lifetimebefore his mom’s eyes left his face. When she pushed herself upfrom the couch, she reached out to brush Caleb’s bangs away fromhis forehead. He could feel the disappointment dripping from herfingers.
“It’s just a haircut, Ma.It’ll grow out.”
His mom didn’t say a wordwhen she left.
* * *
Upstairs, Caleb scrolleddown his list of messages. True enough, there were two from hismom; the rest were from Ginny.
You keep disappearing.WHERE ARE YOU?
I had lunch by myself.It’s our math exam in a few minutes. You’ll be there right? It’s ahuge chunk of our final grade.
WTF, Cale. You missed theexam. What is up with you this week?
Caleb closed his eyes.He’d forgotten about the math exam. But what should he tell Ginny?What could hetell her? Caleb knew he had a choice: he could tell her everything.About his being gay. About playing hooky with Franco. AboutFranco’s kisses that maimed and melted.
But Caleb didn’t wantto—not yet anyway. It felt liberating to think of only himself, nothaving to constantly explain himself to other people.
He tossed his phone ontohis bed, and just like that, his confidence swung like a pendulumfrom one extreme to the other. Maybe he didn’t want to tell Ginnybecause he was afraid this was all just a dream.
Walking up to the mirror,he gave his bangs a shake, causing them to flop over an eye. Francohad gushed that this style made him look amazingly hot. Now Caleb wasn’t sosure. He had loved trying something new, but the person staringback at him from the mirror didn’t feel like him.
Uneasily, he glanced athis phone. He felt like it was waiting for him to reply to Ginny’smessages. It didn’t feel right to ignore them either.
But didn’t he want to belike Franco—daring, spontaneous and free? And being with him wasthe closest Caleb felt to being these things.
He retrieved his phone andtapped on the keyboard.
So what new adventureawaits us tomorrow?
Later, he fell asleep,still waiting for Franco’s reply.
Chapter 15:Syncopation
“What’sthis? An adult version of hide and seek?”
The accusing voice madeCaleb’s insides jump, but he managed to reply coolly, “Speak foryourself. I won’t be legally an adult for a few months.” He’dalready schooled his face into a deadpan expression when he whirledaround to meet her gaze.
There stood Ginny, thecartoon stereotype of a pissed-off character—legs apart, armsakimbo, forehead scrunched, eyes narrowed. Her transparency hadalways been one of the things he loved about her, but now it madehim nervous.
“You should at least tryto act like one.” Ginny’s voice softened as she dropped her arms.“What the hell, Cale? I’ve been thinking the most awful things.”She ticked off her fingers. “That you’ve gotten run over by atruck. Or you’ve been mistaken
