Walking Out of Stride

Chapter Three

Caleb was up and out the door at 6:30, even though the library didn't open until 7:30, even though class didn't start until 8:00. He knew, logically, that Elijah wouldn't be there any earlier than usual -- he usually arrived about the same time as Mr. Bingham -- but, dammit, he was excited. It was just study sessions and schoolwork, but he'd finally get a chance to talk to Elijah in more than just brief 'Morning's and 'See you later's. What would he say? He didn't know. But he'd find something. If there was anything he was good at, it was not knowing how to shut up.

As soon as it opened, he popped into the library and out of the cold, where he typed up and printed his assignment for history. It was quick and easy. They were discussing the Beat Movement and how it led into the counterculture of the '60s, and while Caleb didn't know much about poetry, he knew about alternative subcultures and how they linked together, and that was more than enough.

He slipped the paper into his folder as he left the library and headed to the 200 hall where his history class was held. Elijah was already there, leaning back heavily against the wall, his face in a book, a different one this time. Caleb checked the time on his phone. 6:45. That gave them at least a little time to talk. If he could get Elijah to say anything.

"Morning," he said. Instead of sitting, he leaned back against the wall beside the taller boy. He angled his head up to better see Elijah's face, his hazel eyes darting over the text. They flashed in his direction.

"Hey," he smiled. He closed his book, using his thumb to mark his place.

Caleb's mouth suddenly went dry. He glanced down at the floor. From the corner of his eye, he saw Elijah about to go back to his book, so he blurted, "So, what exactly do you need help with?"

"Hm?" Elijah finally turned completely in Caleb's direction. "Oh. The Periodic Table, for one. Writing appropriate lab reports. Memorizing dead white guys that are generally irrelevant to anything we're doing." He paused and chuckled. "It doesn't sound like much when I say it out loud. But it's --"

"No, that's a lot," Caleb grinned. "Even just the Periodic Table is a lot." He cleared his throat. "I took chem last year, so I might need to brush up a little to help you out, but like I said, I did all right. Do you want to go to the library, or...?"

"I'd prefer the public library, down the street from here," he said. "I'm sure they have more resources. They're open later. More space."

More privacy, Caleb thought. He looked away, trying to force his muscles to relax, but his body was humming. His arm just barely pressed against Elijah's, and Elijah didn't seem to notice but the pressure was enough to send Caleb reeling. What would it be like if Elijah wrapped those arms around him? Elijah shifted and his arm moved away. Caleb looked back up to see him putting his book back in his backpack.

"You read a lot," Caleb said. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth. Stupid.

"I guess," Elijah said. Caleb opened his eyes again and loosened his jaw. "Mostly I like to pretend I'm somewhere else."

Caleb looked back at Elijah again. "Is it true that you're joining the military when you graduate?"

Elijah hiked an eyebrow. "You change subjects quick."

"Sorry."

Elijah chuckled. "Keeps me on my toes, I guess."

Caleb nervously chuckled back.

"Yeah. I haven't decided what branch."

"Are you from a military family?"

Elijah shook his head. "I just need to get out of here. My grades are okay but nothing good enough to get me a scholarship anywhere. Military's my best bet."