I turned sideways like a baseball pitcher does, wound up, and flung that bottle as hard as I could. I watched soar through the air, and then smash into several pieces when it hit the wall. It was slightly satisfying.
“Feel a little better?” He grinned.
“Eh, maybe.” I shrugged. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was helping.
“Here. Do it again.” He handed me another bottle. Smash! When I ran out of bottles, I threw bricks. Each time something broke, I imagined it was Dean’s head. “You don’t have to hide your anger. It’s ok to be mad about what he did to you.” Caleb’s expression said he meant what he was saying.
“I know. I’m just tired of all the bullshit. I don’t understand guys, and it makes me even angrier.”
Caleb chuckled, but it died as soon as I looked at him. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at the fact that you say you don’t understand guys. Most of us guys don’t understand women. You’re like a puzzle that has constantly changing pieces. Every time we think we’ve got it, it changes into something completely different.” His head tipped to the side as he stared at me, waiting for me to agree with him or something.
“It’s only because we’re trying to be what you want.” I kicked at the ground. “We want a guy to like us, but we can’t talk too much, and we can’t wear certain clothes because it might send a message. We can’t be too good at something because we might bruise his ego. We have to like his friends, and the same hobbies he does. It’s endless.” I picked up a baseball and tossed it in the air, catching it on the way back down.
“We’re not all like that.” Caleb sighed as he leaned against the wall behind us. “Some of us are nice, but it doesn’t get us anywhere. Women always want the bad boy.” He was right with that. I’d had a few of the good guys at school ask me out over the years, but Dean’s dark side was what attracted me to him and why I’d dated him for so long.
“If I ask you something, will you be honest with me?” I threw the baseball as hard as I could.
“Sure.” He crossed his arms.
“So, tell me this. You say there are nice guys out there. Do nice guys still want to get in a girl’s pants? Because it seems to me that all guys want to have sex. They want the girl to say yes, and fall into bed with them, but they want to marry a girl who hasn’t been with a bunch of guys. Where do all of you guys think these women are gonna be if you sleep with girls all the time?” I flung my arms out and spun around.
Caleb swallowed. “Good point, but I can’t speak about all guys, just me.” He pointed to his chest. “If I’m dating a girl, and she doesn’t want to sleep with me, I’m ok with that. I would never pressure someone I cared about into doing something they didn’t want to do. If you’re with a guy who’s doing that, then he doesn’t really care about you.”
“But you want to, sleep with them right…” It was more of a statement then a question.
“Yes.” He half coughed, half choked the word out. “Any guy who tells you he doesn’t want to have sex is lying. I’m not saying I don’t want to; I’m saying that I wouldn’t pressure anyone. If you really like someone, they’re worth waiting for.”
“I knew I was right,” I mumbled to myself.
“About what?” Caleb moved closer. I could feel the hairs on his arm brush against mine. I shuddered lightly before swallowing the lump in my throat. He wasn’t supposed to hear that.
“College guys are more mature,” I whispered.
“Ha!” He laughed and threw his head back. “I don’t know about that.”
“Great.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re not helping me now.”
“But this did. Right?” He pointed to the broken bottles a few feet in front of us.
“Yes. This helped. You said you come here sometimes. Why?” I was genuinely interested.
“Sometimes I get into it with my dad. We get along, but he has these ideas about what I should be doing, and he tries to force them on me.”
“Your real dad?” I grimaced. I never referred to Carsen that way, but I needed to make sure we were talking about the same person.
“Yeah. He’s always been a good dad, but he lets Joey be the parent most of the time. It’s complicated. It always has been. I just wish he’d let go of me pursuing football.” Caleb ran his fingers through his hair and tugged.
“But you used to love it.” I remembered Caleb playing Pee Wee ball when we were little.
“You sound like him now. I liked it when I was little. I don’t want to play anymore. I haven’t played since I was fourteen. No way in hell am I walking onto a college team and getting any playing time.” Caleb was almost shouting now.
“Sorry.” I held my hands up. “I just thought…”
“Everybody thinks they know what’s best for me, but nobody wants to let me decide.” He sighed loudly before picking up one of the baseballs and hurling it at the wall in front of us.
“That was pretty good. Ever think about baseball?” I teased, and he started laughing.
“I don’t want to play sports. I had this same conversation last night with Carsen at the field house. Why do you think there’s so much broken glass over there?” He motioned to the wall.
“I’m sorry. You can talk to me. I won’t judge.” I shrugged. What the hell was I saying? I felt like
