A Letter for Caleb

Everyone had always assumed she and Caleb would fall in love, which made sense. After all, they did everything together. Caleb lived on the corner of Maple and Vine, and she lived on Vine and Goodsend, only a mile down the road. Most days, she would walk over with her older sister in the afternoon, when the sun was least forgiving, so her sister could escape upstairs to gossip with his sister and she and Caleb could play pirates. They rode their bikes together to and from school. Teachers didn’t let them sit next to one another because they wouldn’t pay attention, too absorbed by one another. She played basketball and he played lacrosse and their bodies grew lankier. They shot hoops and practiced drills together until they were sticky and hungry.

Her infatuation had begun with the start of high school, when Caleb got back from seven long weeks at summer camp and she noticed that something was different. She couldn’t pinpoint it, couldn’t tell if it was his peeling tan or his now tawny hair that had sparked her heart to beat on double time. All she knew was that he was suddenly perfect.

Her desire was inconsistent; some days she could do without him, yet on others every glance he cast at some other girl sent her stomach roiling. The strength of her feelings was eclipsed only by her fear of his rejection. Caleb knew her better than anyone else, and his rejection would wound her like nothing else could. The only thing that made her yearning easier to bear was that they were always together. It was just the two of them, against the world — or something…