Redemption

30 - Red

Chapter 30 – Red

"Caleb?" My voice sounds pained, not surprised like it should be, the delight at his appearance nowhere in sight.

He frowns, doing a onceover of me, his eyes swiftly moving down my body before looking up at my face. His bulky North Face jacket moves loudly as he pulls me into a hug, the puffiness of it suffocating me once my face is pressed against his chest.

"Where's Isaac?" he asks, his head propped on top of mine, his chin moving against my hair as he speaks. The scruffiness from his stubble always makes my hair staticky, a little messy.

I chew on my lip, the raw feeling it leaves is slowly becoming a comfort to me, unsure on how to tell him my brother hasn't been home since yesterday morning. He'll wonder why I didn't tell him when he called, why I wouldn't share that information with him. I already know he will find it odd, out of character for me.

He steps around me to go inside, unable to contain his excitement at the prospect of seeing Isaac, his giddiness enticing an annoyance from me. Why wouldn't he call before he came?

I can just picture Harry in my shower, his scrutinizing gaze on my shampoo and conditioner, his green eyes reading the labels and laughing to himself at how many shower products I have. Maybe he's smelling them, taking a sniff, and wondering what it would make his own head of hair smell like, if it would make it softer than it already is.

He could come out at any second, hands up in surrender, not willing to participate in lying to Caleb, one of his friends, someone he shares a deep trauma with. The thought makes me nauseous, my heart hammering against my ribcage, the thumping so loud I feel as if it's bleeding out through my feet, trembling the hardwood floors.

"He's not here," I say, closing the door and crossing my arms over my chest, a makeshift shield that will have to do. I try to keep my voice strong, assertive, like I have purpose for not letting him know earlier.

He stops milling around my apartment, those ugly boots he always wears coming to an abrupt halt, the bouquet of red roses still in his hand, now hanging down by his side. Him not taking off his shoes festers the annoyance in my belly, the lack of self-awareness makes me want to smack him upside the head. "Can you take your shoes off, please? I just washed the floors a couple days ago."

He huffs, his blue eyes whirling to Isaac's bedroom, the closed door staring back at us. "What do you mean, 'He's not here?'" He presses on, disregarding the words that just left my mouth, not even coming back to the door to slide off the hideous boots.

I shrug, moving a couple of feet into the kitchen to start wiping down the counters, some crumbs from this morning's breakfast still scattered across the marble, red juice from the strawberries drying up. "He's not here."

"What? Why?" he sounds confused now, a much pleasant surprise. I was expecting him to become angry in a matter of seconds, the kept information too much of an insult for him to handle.

I shrug for a second time, grabbing some cleaner from underneath the sink. "He's started seeing someone, I guess."

When he doesn't reply, I feel the need to continue, to defend Isaac. "It's not that big of a deal, I get it. I wasn't going to make him stay."

"So, he ditched you on Christmas?" His tone is harder now, more businesslike, as if he's a detective trying to get to the bottom of a case.

"He didn't ditch me," I laugh, it's forced, though, it would take a dummy to not notice the fakeness. I spray the counters down, the only noise in the room coming from the liquid being squirted out.