Page 55 of Caleb
Swiftly, I glance at the rear-view mirror to see Scott staring back at me. He shoots me a conspiratorial wink and turns his attention back to the road ahead.
“I’m not.” I frown and look out the window, still unwilling to engage in conversation with her.
“Scott, could you play some music, please,” Red says.
“What would you like to listen to, Miss?”
“Whatever you like.”
Scott clicks the dashboard buttons and tunes into a French radio station playing pop music.
“I’m worried about you,” Red says now that the music can effectively drown out our voices from Scott’s prying ears. You see, Red is a clever young lady who always gets her way.
Shaking my head, I look at her from the corner of my eye and snort.
“I’m serious, Caleb,” she says convincingly. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this, but I was having trouble finding the courage to bring it up.”
She’sworried aboutme. Here we go.
“Trust me when I say there’s nothing you should be worrying about,” I tell her, trying my best to keep my voice down despite the music camouflaging our conversation, “especially when it comes to me. And not right now, not today of all days when you’re feeling sick. So if you want to talk, why don’t you share your thoughts on the film you watched yesterday at the festival instead.”
“Listen … I know I promised I would never bring the subject up again after we talked—”
“Then don’t,” I cut her off gently. She wants to talk about Yonathan.
When I opened up to her about him a few years ago, I made her promise she would never bring him or the subject up again. And for some reason, something’s worrying her? I’m curious to know her thoughts, but at the same time, I don’t know if I want to open that door again.
Red leans in and brings her mouth closer to my ear. The proximity alone has my blood pumping faster and my skin buzzing. She needs to stay on her side of the invisible line that’s always carved between us.
“Caleb,” she whispers in my ear, “I can tell you’ve been drinking.”
Yonathan
OH, WELL, CRAP.
Red slides a bit closer to me.
“Red—” I breathe out her name, almost begging her to stop.
“Let me just say what’s on my mind, and we can go back to pretending like everything’s fine afterward, okay?” She looks away, seemingly annoyed.
“Okay.” I sigh before her penetrating gaze finally lands on me.
I’m at her mercy, yet again.
“I was too naive to realize it at first,” she starts to say, “but now that I’ve been hanging out with Sophie and Cecile for a while, I know what alcohol seeping through your pores the next morning smells like.”
“Red—”
She raises her hand, silently asking me to let her finish. So I do.
“It’s when we go out for runs,” she explains. “Once you start sweating, that’s when I can detect it. At first, I thought you just smelled funny.” She wrinkles her nose in a silly way that makes me smile. “But now I know better.”
Embarrassed, I hold her gaze in silence.
“Are you still having trouble dealing with Yon’s death?” she finally asks.
“I don’t know.” I’m being as honest as I can. “Let’s say I’ve been keeping myself distracted ever since I started working here.”
