Page 110 of I Wanna Text You Up

“Is she on about the orange juice and cereal again?” Rosco says, setting two cups of steaming hot coffee on thetable.

“It’s notthatweird,” I tellthem.

Rosco makes a disgusted face at Caleb and points my way. “Please tell me you notice something’s wrong withher.”

“Ohdefinitely.”

“Asses!” I say loudly, nearlyyelling.

Rosco walks away cackling, and Caleb dodges the sugar packet I throw hisway.

“I think I might like it here,” Calebcomments.

“Because you have someone else to back you up and join in while you pick onme?”

“Pfft, obviously.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “That, and everyone seems so…jovial, sofree.”

“You’ve met like one person other than myparents.”

“Hey, those people on the beach waved at seven in themorning.”

“That’s a fairpoint.”

“But really, it’s not bad so far. I’m not hating it, so that’s aplus.”

“You thought you’d hate it?” I ask,surprised.

“Not likehateit, more like I wasn’t sure. Outer Banks is a nice place. You always hear about people vacationing or retiring here. It’s the ‘it’ place, you know?” He folds his hands around his mug, staring down into the dark liquid. “I come from the opposite side of the tracks, likewayfar away from any of this. I’m always afraid people can tell I’m a hugefake.”

I peel open the sugar packets and dump all three into my coffee before adding a heavy dose of creamer, taking in what Caleb justsaid.

This isn’t the first time he’s mentioned coming from an unsavory neighborhood, so that part doesn’t surpriseme.

What does is that he’s so down on himself for where he came from, like that’s hisfault.

Does he not see how far he’s risen above it? How much better he’s made his life in just four years away from there? Sure, he’s still attached to it in some way, but that’s not him anymore. That place isn’t who he is. He got out. He’s making a better life forhimself.

Can’t he seethat?

“I don’t think you’re a fake, Caleb. Where you’re from? That’s notyou.Your dreams, your goals, those aspirations you hold so dear to your heart?Thoseare you. The rest of it only defines you as much as you letit.”

He finally looks up from his coffee, meeting my eyes. “Is that how you see me? Full of dreams andgoals?”

“I see you in so many different ways. I see those sad, unsure parts of you. I know there’s a string tethering you to your old life that you can’t seem to break, but I also see the dreamer, the boy next door. I see the third baseman, the nice guy, the amazing friend and supportive shoulder to lean on.” I pause and lick my lips, hoping what I want to say next doesn’t offend him. “Can I tell yousomething?”

“Ofcourse.”

“When I first met you, I had you pegged for the average meathead jock. Then you started dating Delia and I knew that couldn’t be true because that was so not her type. So, I just moved you into the nice guy category, and I won’t lie, you stayed firmly planted there for some time. Then when everything went down last year with the photo and you were right there on the battlefield with us, I started to see other sides of you.” I brush a stray hair out of my face and tuck it behind my ear, blowing out a breath. “That’s, uh, when you piqued my interest…popped up on my radar, so to speak. You were kind and fierce and loyal and so…there, you know? You dropped everything. You raced to the rescue, and not just because you felt you had to, because you wanted to. You stepped up and got dirty when you needed to. I really respected and admiredthat.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares atme.

I take a sip of my coffee and clear my throat. “You’re not so one-dimensional, Caleb, and you kind of rock my world because ofit.”

Caleb shifts in his seat, not meeting my eyes. I can tell he’s feeling a bit uncomfortable with everything I just admitted, but it feels good to get it off mychest.

I watch him stare out the window, his brows drawn tightly together, mouth crumpled in the corners inconcentration.

Just as I’m about to say something to change the subject, he opens hismouth.

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