Page 71 of Bratty Badboys

“I can pick you up on my bike if you’d like, mama,” he winked, holding my hand. I shook my head, and Kyle groaned.

“That bike is a death machine,” Kyle said, but Caleb cut him off by closing the passenger door behind me.

“You know I’ll drive like a baby if you agree to one ride with me, right?” Caleb asked, holding my bag as we walked to my Pilates studio. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I smiled at his serious face and kissed his nose, tipping on my toes. “I trust you, baby,” I said as he got the keys and unlocked the door. “Maybe we can go out some night.”

Caleb smirked. “I’ll make it worth it.”

And then it happened.

It was so sudden that everything shook.

One moment, we were smiling at each other and the other, Caleb was embracing me and we were pushed to the ground by the sudden explosion. My ears rang and the scent of burning fire made me cough. My hands were shaking as I forced my eyes open to see the glimpse of my studio—burning.

Caleb.

I turned to see him, his body intact, but his eyes were closed. My hands reached out to him and fell. I felt something sticky, and panic seized me at the sight of blood.

It was his blood.

37

IT’LL BE FINE

CALEB

I was floating in an endless abyss. Back and forth. My body floated as if underwater.

Blurry vision appeared in front of me when I was a kid. My heart gave a lurch realizing what day that was. I was dressed in a black shirt and pants by grandma, Sean by my side as dad talked in a whisper with the guy at the church. Later, I’d realize that the mean uncle was called a priest.

“When will Mom come home?” I had asked innocently, almost bored, as I watched the young me scratch at his dark hair.

Sean ruffled my hair, a pained look in his eye and went over to talk to Dad, who looked meaner than ever. Dad was scary, but he had stopped smiling at me. I had asked him to play a video game with me the day before, and after one look from him, I realized I’d never ask him again because he was so mean and scary.

My grandma sat down in the pew as the priest walked towards young Caleb and even though I knew my brain was tormenting me with past memories, I clenched my hand, wishing I could protect myself from what he was about to say.

“You’re looking for your mother, Caleb?” He asked, his eyes smiling and voice old and kind.

“Yeah.”

Then I saw his eyes change, turn darker, and as his shadow fell over me, he leaned closer, towering over me and said, “Your mother is gone.”

“Gone where?”

His smile was twisted and even though my dad was scary and mean, I wanted to run to him, away from that man. “God needed her more than you, Caleb.”

I saw tears well up in my eyes, and I ran to Grandma, hiding my face in her lap. There was a commotion of my dad yelling at the priest and Sean trying to be a mediator and all of us rushing out of the church and never going back. Dad had bought me ice cream afterwards and played a video game with me.

I was a kid, so I didn’t understand what he meant, but how could God be so cruel that they’d need my mom more than me, more than my dad?

The vision blurred, and it was a funeral. I was at Emma’s mansion. Her mom had passed away. We were nineteen, still dating each other.

I was hiding upstairs in her pink and white room instead of holding her hand as she stuttered through her speech. I should have been a good boyfriend and held her close, but instead, I was having a panic attack.

“Fu—ck,” I cursed, clutching my chest as I sat on the edge of the bed, quick breaths stuttering out of my parted lips.

My mom passed away when I was young, but I remembered her comforting embrace where I was the safest and no one could scold me or hurt me. And she was six feet under the ground.

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