The Liverly

XIV

"Gwen, you in there?"

I wake from my stupor to find myself curled up in a ball on the bedroom floor, drawings of him covering the floor around me.

Someone pounds on the main door to my suite, and I scramble to my feet. "Knock it off!" I snap. I'm not annoyed with him. I'm not even annoyed. I'm just exhausted with life.

"Are you going to come and eat or are you on a diet where you can't have breakfast?" asks Caleb through the door, sounding worried despite the joke.

I get up and look around at the papers all over the floor. "Yeah, I'm coming. One second." He stays there for a second, and when I make no move to open the door, he leaves. I hurry to clean up the mess I've made. Once all the pictures are gathered into a pile, I throw them into a plastic grocery bag I find shoved underneath the sink counter in the bathroom. They barely fit into the bag, but my determination to get rid of those pictures makes them stay as I tie off the bag and toss it aside.

Before I leave to go downstairs, I take a quick glance in the mirror and brush my hair so it doesn't look like I was attacked by static electricity. Caleb's waiting at the top of the stairs, a question on his face. I ignore it and simply wave at him before trotting down the steps. Aliyah eats breakfast while sketching in her drawing pad, and Ms. Husby and Tyrell are busy maneuvering a turkey into a giant pan. I rush over to help hold the pan while they drop the turkey gently onto the potato slices lining the bottom of the pan, and it takes the three of us to hoist the whole thing into the oven.

Ms. Husby steps back when finishes, wiping her hands off on a dishtowel laying by the sink, and announces, "That should be done in about six hours, so we'll have our Thanksgiving around three for a late lunch."

Caleb hands me a bowl of cereal and whispers, "Are you okay?"

I turn and give him a small, confused smile. "Yeah. Why are you asking?"

He shrugs as if trying to make it seem like it's nothing, but I can see the concern on his face. "I––Nevermind. It's nothing." He brushes past me, his hand touching my back for long enough that it makes me smile a bit.

I stare after him for a second, wondering what that failed interrogation was about, and decide my hunger is more important than Caleb's questions. If he wants to press me about it, I have no doubt that he will at a later time. But that was definitely odd. Ah, whatever. Food first, then Caleb's weirdness. My brain requires sustenance so I can figure out what I'm going to do today.

Aliyah motions for me to sit down beside her, and she excitedly offers her latest sketch to me for review. It's not great in terms of being iconic art, but she definitely improved on drawing arms. They're a lot more realistic as opposed to the pool noodles she had before. The legs...they now look like trees with a giant bump on each side. I think that's supposed to represent the calves.

She hands me her pencil so I can correct her work. I think being a personal art teacher might be a job I could do, let alone actually enjoy. I sense Caleb hovering over me. He has almost a sixth sense now, knowing when I'm upset or hurting after what happened with my neck. It's cute, I guess. I don't know how I feel about it. It worries me more than anything. It still feels too dangerous to get too close to someone else, but I can't deny that I'm attracted to him. He's been so kind to me, and he gets a side of me I didn't think someone could understand. He's been through Hell and back, just like me, and he doesn't judge me for what I've done. He helped me. I'll admit I like him more than I used to, and he's cute so that doesn't hurt either.

At that thought, I look over at Caleb and smile a bit. He looks up and smiles back, his visible worry fading into contentment. Tyrell sits beside Aliyah and looks over her shoulder while he stirs his cereal around in the milk. "You're getting better, sis!" he says, patting her on the head.