MY CALEB
I walked into the school for the first time; my home away from home for the next four years. Dying to make a good impression yet trying not to care what people think, I made an effort to look nonchalant. People looked me up and down as I walked through the halls. I was dressed all in black and my dark curls billowed down to my shoulders. I fiddled with the keychain hanging from my old, dark purple backpack that had followed me through school for the past 3 years, tucked a curl behind my ear, and continued walking. My eyes perused my unfamiliar surroundings.
Smaller but much more complicated than my old school, Agerville High was a maze of long hallways and classrooms piled high with intimidating textbooks. I passed a group of gossiping girls, primping in the small magnetic mirrors set carefully in their bedazzled lockers. Butterflies tickled my stomach as I walked to the right side of the hallway and searched my backpack for my schedule. When I found the crumpled piece of paper in a side pocket, I looked up and was greeted with the same winning smile I saw the last day of eighth grade.
“Claire!” he shouted as he rushed through the crowded hallway.
“Hey, Caleb!” While I noticed Caleb Scott’s light brown hair gelled up into spikes in the front, much different from the longish locks that hung beside his face three months ago, I also realized that instead of hugging his shoulders I was now hugging something closer to midway down his back. I stepped back and looked him up and down.
“You’re taller!”
“That’s what puberty will do to you,” he said with a smirk.
My heart beat faster, but I didn’t let it show. His height and hair may have changed, but what hadn’t were his hypnotizing blue eyes and bright smile that made my stomach turn.
“Of course,” I teased, “now I don’t have to bend down when I hug you!”
“Now, let’s not get too cocky,” he said defensively.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t remember!” I said laughing. “Last I knew I was 5’ 6” and you were 5’ 5”!”
“Well, I am pleased to inform you that I am now a whopping 5’ 8”… and still growing!” he said with a triumphant smile. He stood up straighter and lifted his chest. “And I’m filling out. Did you notice?”
I had.
I saw another figure walking towards us.
“Sammy!”
“Claire! Caleb!” Samantha Bennett ran towards us with a huge grin on her face. She was excited to see both of us⎯the truth of the matter was that we’d had a sleepover two nights ago, but two days was forever when it came to Sammy and me, even if we did talk endlessly online and through text messages.
“Sammy!” shouted Caleb. He’d been the one at sleep-away camp for the summer… something I’d been quite upset about. “Sammy girl, how was your summer?”
“It was pretty good; pretty boring without you!”
“Oh, I see, I’m pretty boring?” I said with a smile, eyebrows raised and hands on hips.
“Well maybe if you hadn’t insisted on writing to this one all summer...” she said, gesturing to Caleb.
“Oh, right… sorry about that, Claire. I wanted to write you back, but I kept forgetting…”
My heart sank. I bet he spent plenty of time writing back to Becky. Becky was a blonde beauty… perfect in every way, and the luckiest girl in the world as far as I was concerned. I changed the subject.
“Hey!” I said to Sammy with a laugh and a pasted-on smile. Sometimes years of acting classes come in handy. “I spent lots of time with you!”
“Yeah, yeah,” she teased as we strolled off to first period. We had been lucky enough to have almost identical schedules two years in a row… maybe if he wasn’t in so many of my classes I would have paid more attention.
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I got off the bus and searched through my backpack for my key. After unlocking the door, hanging up my black sweater, and greeting my cat with a quick pat, I walked into the kitchen.
“Mom?” I shouted. No answer. “Mom…”
I walked toward the counter where there was a slip of carelessly ripped paper with a few words scrawled on it:
At work. Dinner in microwave. Love you.
Of course. Audrey Jameson worked three jobs: one as a veterinarian’s assistant at the Greene County Animal Hospital, one as a waitress at the Hogan’s nearby, and one as a tutor for middle and high school students. These kept her busy most of the time. Not getting to see her much bothered me more when I was younger, and when I complained she used to say, “If you can grow a money tree, Claire, then you can get me as many days off from work as you please.”
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Agerville, New York is the definition of a small town. I know that New York is thought of as a state full of bustling big cities, but believe it or not, upstate is pretty rural. Cows, farms, you name it… if it’s a small-town stereotype, we have it. Minus the southern accents, of course. Even when I turned 15, I still didn’t get much privacy from my neighbors. Not five minutes after I read the note, Alma Peterson, my elderly neighbor, knocked on the door. Dressed in a neat, floral dress covered by a bleached white apron, Alma was equipped with a sweet-smelling tray covered with aluminum foil, and a big smile.
“Oh, Claire, how beautiful you look! If only you would add some color to that outfit…” she said as she hurried through the door and put the tray on the counter.
“Hi, Alma.” I said. “What’s that?”
“I made you a batch of my homemade cinnamon sugar cookies! I knew your mom would be working late tonight, so I thought I’d stop by and give you something to munch on… and maybe a little company.” She removed the foil from the pan. “Here, try one,” she squealed as she forced the cookie towards my mouth.
“Thanks Alma, but I’ll pass,” I said, gently pushing her hand back. “I haven’t had dinner yet,” I lied, “...and I have to get started on my homework.” My eyes flickered down to the table. I was a horrible liar.
“Homework? On the first day of school? Oh, alright…” she said, walking away and sounding hurt. “Enjoy them…” and she closed the door quietly behind her.
I felt bad for pushing her away, but how would I ever get to be alone if I didn’t find a way to get her out of the house? I sighed and sat down at the table. I took one of the cookies and quickly discarded it after discovering that it tasted similar to cardboard sprinkled with cinnamon. As I rested my head in my hands, I thought.
Why can’t you be nice? You don’t deserve to be surrounded by such loving people… you never give anything back. No wonder Caleb doesn’t see anything in you. He deserves better.
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I was in my room alone, lying on my bed, thinking. I didn’t think often, because I didn’t like my thoughts… I thought about Caleb, how I will never have a chance, how maybe I should just magically turn into Becky, how I’m too selfish, how my mom is never here, how I should be doing something with my life, how I’m not pretty enough, how I’m not good enough. I broke down… but no one heard me cry.
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The next morning I called Sammy. I paced my room as the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Sammy!”
“Oh, hey, Claire. What’s up?”
“...I can’t do it anymore.”
“Do what?”
“How much longer am I supposed to sit here waiting for him… I wrote him letters all summer, and what do I get back? ‘Thanks for all the letters, Claire. See you in September.’” I curled up on my bed and hugged my pillow to my chest.
“I know, Claire. I know. But you can’t give up… I see the way you look at him. It makes my stomach turn. It’s not something that you can control, and it’s not something that you can just let go… hang in there.”
I threw my pillow to the floor. “He’ll never look at me that way… am I ever going to be happy?”
“Of course you will, Claire. Some day you’re going to find someone amazing who loves you for everything you are, and when you do I’ll get to say ‘I told you so.’”
I rolled my eyes. “Easy for you to say… you’re happy. You have Ben.”
“Claire, I promise you, one day⎯”
“One day, I’ll get everything I ever wanted. One day, I’ll be happy. One day, one day, one day… Sammy, no matter how many times you say that, it’s not true!” I screamed.
There was silence.
My face was hot.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding a bit hurt. “Calm down. Go take your mind off it.”
I hung up.
Calm down? Calm down. You try to calm down when your life is falling apart. I took a deep breath. On the other side of my small room on my bedside table lay my iPod. I put on my favorite song.
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School was the same as always. I saw Caleb and my heart skipped a beat. We walked together to first period, and when he was speaking to me I was more absorbing the sound of his voice than hearing his endless chatter.
“Claire, is something wrong?”
Everything is wrong.
“Oh, no, of course not. Go on.”
He kept talking, I kept listening. I kept dreaming of him and he kept dreaming of her. It was normal, but it was torture, and it would never change. My best friend… the one who breaks my heart and yet keeps it alive… my Caleb.
love love love,
jules :D