“Like, what do you even do at sleepaway camp?” I asked, staring out the window.
Hailey erupted in laughter. “Oh my God. You’re doing it. You’re totally freaking out.”
“About what?” Julian asked.
Hailey did not catch the look I gave her in the rearview mirror. The one that said My brother does not need to know any of this, oh God, please don’t. But Hailey was up for any sort of conversation with Julian, even one that included me and my boyfriend.
“Caleb ran into his ex on the slopes. Some girl from sleepaway camp.”
Julian frowned, cutting his eyes to me. “That so?” he asked.
“Oh my God,” I said. “Hailey, get with the eye-signal program already, huh?”
She smiled back at me. “Let’s see, sleepaway camp. They hike,” she said, holding up a finger. “And swim in lakes. And sleep in tents or cabins. And get generally filthy. And have subpar water pressure and soap. Everyone’s kind of gross. I’m surprised they were even able to recognize each other.”
I laughed, and even Julian smiled. “Do you want me to drop you home, or are you coming back to our place, Hailey?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes, and didn’t need to turn around to imagine the glow of her expression. The way he’d spoken just to her, using her name, smiling at her joke. “Your place, please,” she said, not even trying to mask the excitement in her voice.
—
Now, I think back to that letter I found in his book, wondering if it could’ve come from her. This Ashlyn Patterson. And if so, why Caleb kept it, if he truly didn’t care anymore.
Underneath the goggles and the ski poles is the helmet he wore for lacrosse in the spring. The thing I remember most is not his games, but the way he looked in the gear. With his face behind the helmet’s cage, it was hard to tell him apart from his teammates. They were all covered in shoulder pads, thick helmets, faces hidden behind masks. I could only recognize the different players when they faced away, catching a glimpse of the name printed on the jersey.
Buried deeper inside the bag are his shoulder pads and other pieces of protection, and then the lacrosse stick.
I pull it out, a trail of dust clinging to the base. The tape at the edge partly unwound, and still unwinding. The sticky part clinging to dirt.
—
It was early April, spring break, and I’d just gotten back from the Keys, five days with my parents and Julian and sun and snorkeling. Hailey was still in Puerto Rico, visiting her grandparents. Caleb had spent the whole time home, though.
The air felt crisp and welcoming back home. I could still feel the heat of the sun in my burnt shoulders, the fabric of my shirt rubbing at the raw skin underneath.
Mia answered the front door, still in her pajamas, even though it was noon. She hugged me around the waist, asked if I wanted to make necklaces. She had beads spread out all along the living room floor, organized into piles, by color.
I smiled, thinking she and Caleb shared the organization gene. “A little later,” I said. “Where’s Caleb?”
She pointed to the dark stairway, then led me up the steps, the way she liked to do it now. She threw open Caleb’s door without knocking, and announced, “Jessa’s here!”
Caleb was sitting on the edge of his bed without a shirt, like he’d just woken. He’d been staring out the window, his eyes narrowed from the light. His confusion turned to a smile, and he said, “You’re back.”
I nodded. “I called.”
He held up his phone on the bedside table, currently plugged into the wall. “Dead battery.” Then he looked at Mia beside me. “Hey, Mia, can you make Jessa a necklace? Her favorite color is blue.”
Mia took off down the steps, and he walked toward me, stepping over his lacrosse bag to close the door behind me.
“I missed you,” he said, pulling me toward him.
“Ow,” I said, his hands brushing over the sunburn on my back.
“Ow?”
“Turns out we were closer to the equator than I thought.”
He dropped his hands, pulled the edge of my collar aside. Shook his head. Instead he kissed my wrist, the inside of my elbow, where he knew I was ticklish, and I laughed, relenting. I let him fold me up in his arms and drop me onto the bed, both of us laughing. “Still hurt?” he asked.
“Nope.”
He lowered himself slowly, slowly, until his mouth brushed mine. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer.
He was easing my shirt over the sunburn when the door flew open, and he jumped back, like my skin could burn him.
I yanked my shirt back down. Mia stood in the entrance.
She blinked slowly between us. “Max is here,” she said, thumb jutting behind her at Max on the steps.
But Max was already cringing, looking away. “Yeah, I’ll just, um. Later, guys. Come on, Mia.” He took her by the hand, and she looked once over her shoulder, but Max kept moving.
Caleb laughed deep in his throat, sitting on the edge of his bed.
“Oh God,” I said.
“She’s eight. She doesn’t even know what she saw. But I’m going to put an end to her escorting people up the steps….”
“I was talking about Max,” I mumbled, standing up.
“Well, Max probably understands just fine. What we need,” he said, rummaging through his bag on the floor, “is a lock.”
He pulled out his lacrosse stick and wedged it across the door handle, jamming it between the dresser and the wall. He pulled the door handle, which opened an inch before getting jammed on the stick—not enough to see in. He turned around, smiling. “Good enough,” he said.
“Oh no,” I said, hands held out in front of me. “No, no, no. In case you didn’t notice, the moment is totally ruined.”
I looked out the window. No Max.
Caleb followed my gaze. “Seriously, Jessa? You’re embarrassed about Max? We’ve been together for almost a year. I’m sure he assumes far, far more.”
It was the beginning of April. I scrunched up my face, doing the math. “Closer to half a year,” I said, dissecting the statement from all angles. “And assuming and seeing are two very different things.” Then I was thinking: Does he tell Max about me, about us? Confiding in him about the things we had done, and not done? I had always thought Caleb was like me, keeping those details to himself. But suddenly I wasn’t sure, and I couldn’t stand the thought—that I might be a secret, to be shared.
I gathered up my things, removed the lacrosse stick, and jogged down the steps, sure to make enough noise so they would know I was coming.
I passed Max sitting with Mia at the kitchen table. She had Max’s earbuds in, and he was playing something for her. When he saw me, he looked up at the ceiling, then closed his eyes. “I didn’t know you were in there. I swear. Mia neglected to mention that part.”
“You’re making it worse by refusing to look at me now.”
He laughed then, dipped his head, looked at me, smiled. Smiled too wide. “Better?” he asked.
“Nope. No. Definitely not.”
I spun out of the room, out the front door, and waited for Caleb to meet me there.