glancing at the rear benchI'm not going to look where he's sitting-and slide next to Matt on the middle bench. I know Matt from physical therapy, since his appointments are usually after mine on Wednesday nights. Matt lost three quarters of his left arm, and his right arm is scarred, but I'm not sure exactly what happened. I'm sure I'll find out once we share our stories.
Matt gives me a friendly but reserved smile. "I didn't know you'd be here," he says.
"It was a last-minute thing," I tell him, eyeing Trish and Erin in the seat in front of us and wondering if Caleb will decide to ditch the trip at the very last second. Part of me wants him to leave, but the other part wants him to stay so I can prove to myself that I'm truly over him, that the pain that lingered after he left is gone.
My pulse quickens when I hear Caleb shifting in his seat behind us. It's not a good sign that I'm hyper-aware of his every movement. I'm probably in for four weeks of real torture-maybe even worse than the year of physical therapy after the accident.
Never mind how I felt when Caleb abandoned me. In the weeks and months after he left town, I prayed that he'd come back. I used to keep my light on at night, so if he came back he'd see it as a sign that I was waiting for him. He lived next door, so I would gaze out my window for hours on end, hoping to see the light on in his room. My fantasy was that he would tell me he made a huge mistake by leaving Paradise.
But he never did.
In the end, I realized I had relied on him too much.
Damon gets into the driver's seat and turns around. "Well, guys, this is it. Our first stop is a camp-based summer school for teens. We'll be sleeping in cabins at their campground tonight, and you'll be expected to share your stories with them. Tomorrow we'll leave and head to our second gig. But right now, take a second to introduce yourselves while we're waiting for Lenny. As y'all know, I'm Damon Manning and I'm your chaperone."
"I'm Trish," Trish says, with an edge to her voice that implies don't talk to me unless I want you to.
Erin doesn't look up from her book as she says in a small voice, "I'm Erin."
Matt clears his throat. "I'm Matt."
"I'm Maggie," I say, unable to resist a glance at Caleb.
He looks like he'd rather go diving in shark or piranha-infested waters than be in this van. He stares at the floor mat. "I'm Caleb."
"And I'm Lenny," the guy who passed gas says, practically bouncing into the van and slipping into the spot next to Caleb.
Caleb winces. "Dude, if you fart again I'm gonna kick your ass.
"Caleb, no threatening the other members of the group," Damon orders from the front seat. "Lenny, let's keep it flatulence-free for now. Cool?"
I stifle a nervous giggle.
"I'll try," Lenny says, giving Damon a thumbs-up. But as soon as we turn out of the parking lot, I hear Lenny say to Caleb, "Wanna pull my finger?"
I have to look. Instead of pushing Lenny's finger away from his face or, better yet, ignoring him, Caleb grabs Lenny's finger and bends it back.
"Stop it," I tell Caleb as Lenny winces and tries to wrest his hand free. "You're hurting him!"
What happened to Caleb to make him lash out so quickly?
Caleb releases Lenny's finger. Lenny shoots Caleb a look that says he'll retaliate later, then scoots to the other side of the bench.
"You asked for it," Caleb says smugly as Lenny examines his bruised finger.
"I'm gonna sue you if it's sprained," Lenny warns. "I play the guitar, man."
Caleb smirks, then looks at me shaking my head. "What?"
"Nothing," I say.
I turn back around. I won't look at Caleb again. Not until I have to, at least.
Next to me, Matt pulls out his cell phone and starts texting with his one hand. His palm cradles the phone while his thumb taps the keypad. I can't imagine it's easy for him, but he seems to be managing fine.
I lean forward, placing my hands on the seat in front of me. I'll make small talk with Trish and Erin. Anything is better than wondering
Matt gives me a friendly but reserved smile. "I didn't know you'd be here," he says.
"It was a last-minute thing," I tell him, eyeing Trish and Erin in the seat in front of us and wondering if Caleb will decide to ditch the trip at the very last second. Part of me wants him to leave, but the other part wants him to stay so I can prove to myself that I'm truly over him, that the pain that lingered after he left is gone.
My pulse quickens when I hear Caleb shifting in his seat behind us. It's not a good sign that I'm hyper-aware of his every movement. I'm probably in for four weeks of real torture-maybe even worse than the year of physical therapy after the accident.
Never mind how I felt when Caleb abandoned me. In the weeks and months after he left town, I prayed that he'd come back. I used to keep my light on at night, so if he came back he'd see it as a sign that I was waiting for him. He lived next door, so I would gaze out my window for hours on end, hoping to see the light on in his room. My fantasy was that he would tell me he made a huge mistake by leaving Paradise.
But he never did.
In the end, I realized I had relied on him too much.
Damon gets into the driver's seat and turns around. "Well, guys, this is it. Our first stop is a camp-based summer school for teens. We'll be sleeping in cabins at their campground tonight, and you'll be expected to share your stories with them. Tomorrow we'll leave and head to our second gig. But right now, take a second to introduce yourselves while we're waiting for Lenny. As y'all know, I'm Damon Manning and I'm your chaperone."
"I'm Trish," Trish says, with an edge to her voice that implies don't talk to me unless I want you to.
Erin doesn't look up from her book as she says in a small voice, "I'm Erin."
Matt clears his throat. "I'm Matt."
"I'm Maggie," I say, unable to resist a glance at Caleb.
He looks like he'd rather go diving in shark or piranha-infested waters than be in this van. He stares at the floor mat. "I'm Caleb."
"And I'm Lenny," the guy who passed gas says, practically bouncing into the van and slipping into the spot next to Caleb.
Caleb winces. "Dude, if you fart again I'm gonna kick your ass.
"Caleb, no threatening the other members of the group," Damon orders from the front seat. "Lenny, let's keep it flatulence-free for now. Cool?"
I stifle a nervous giggle.
"I'll try," Lenny says, giving Damon a thumbs-up. But as soon as we turn out of the parking lot, I hear Lenny say to Caleb, "Wanna pull my finger?"
I have to look. Instead of pushing Lenny's finger away from his face or, better yet, ignoring him, Caleb grabs Lenny's finger and bends it back.
"Stop it," I tell Caleb as Lenny winces and tries to wrest his hand free. "You're hurting him!"
What happened to Caleb to make him lash out so quickly?
Caleb releases Lenny's finger. Lenny shoots Caleb a look that says he'll retaliate later, then scoots to the other side of the bench.
"You asked for it," Caleb says smugly as Lenny examines his bruised finger.
"I'm gonna sue you if it's sprained," Lenny warns. "I play the guitar, man."
Caleb smirks, then looks at me shaking my head. "What?"
"Nothing," I say.
I turn back around. I won't look at Caleb again. Not until I have to, at least.
Next to me, Matt pulls out his cell phone and starts texting with his one hand. His palm cradles the phone while his thumb taps the keypad. I can't imagine it's easy for him, but he seems to be managing fine.
I lean forward, placing my hands on the seat in front of me. I'll make small talk with Trish and Erin. Anything is better than wondering
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