Page 86 of If We Say Goodbye

“Don’t tell him yet.”

He nods so slightly that I almost miss it and walks into the house, leaving me awkwardly standing in front of his mom. Her eyes water, and she hugs herself.

I cringe, stepping around her. “I’ll go check on him.”

“Don’t,” she says, her tone as cold as ice.

I pause briefly. “Then stop me.”

She can chase after me if she wants, but I’m not going to desert him.

I run into the house after Caleb, closing the door. I slip off my shoes, arranging them nicely on the rack, before racing into the living room.

Jordy sits on the couch, munching on a sandwich while watching a movie, totally oblivious to the situation.

“Where did Caleb go?” I ask, checking over my shoulder to see if I’ve been followed.

Mrs. Park is nowhere in sight.

Jordy shrugs. “Since when do I keep track?”

Before I can say anything else, a cymbal crashes into a heavy beat.

“He’s in the garage,” Jordy says.

I give him a look.Thanks. I wouldn’t have guessed.

The drums continue to echo through the house. It's as loud as thunder, and it makes my skin crawl with every beat. I cover my ears the best I can while opening the garage door. “Caleb!”

He’s hunched over the drum set, arms flying in the air as they strike down—again and again and again.

I inch closer. “Caleb!”

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he plays harder.

My heart rushes as my fingertips graze the back of his shirt. I gingerly slide my hands around his waist, hugging him from behind. “Caleb,” I say, close to his ear.

His arms pause mid air, and his breath catches as the drumsticks fall from his hands, ricocheting on the concrete floor. I hold him tighter, gripping the fabric of his shirt.

“Please don’t,” he whispers. “I’m afraid I’ll take this the wrong way. I might actually start to think you like me.”

I rest my chin on his shoulder, and whisper back, “Maybe that’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

CHAPTERTWENTY

The silence is too loud.

Nerves pulse through my hands, and I try to pull them back.

Caleb’s hands cover mine, refusing to let me go.

His touch is electric, making my brain short circuit from his skin against mine.

“Do you mean it?” he asks, hesitation audible in every single syllable. “I can’t handle you messing with me right now.” He lets go of my hands and stands, turning to face me.

Red brims the whites of his eyes, and a sheepish expression covers his face as his gaze drops to my lips.

My heart continues to gain speed. I have to remind myself to keep breathing. “I mean it.”

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