Walking Out of Stride

Chapter Four

Elijah's house was small, but with two floors: a living room, kitchen, and bathroom at the bottom, and two bedrooms and another bathroom at the top. As he pushed open the front door, he called out, "Anyone home?"

No answer.

"My parents must still be at work," he said. He entered the foyer and kicked off his shoes. Caleb followed suit. Elijah glanced at the clock over in the living room. "Yeah, it's only four. They don't get off until five and six." He turned back to Caleb and asked, "Do you want to go up to my room or hang out in the kitchen?"

Go up to his room!? The answer was easy, but Caleb didn't want to seem weird by being too eager, so he said, "Whichever you want."

"My room's more comfortable," Elijah said, and he started up the stairs.

His room was small but well-kept, with a neatly made bed and shelves full of organized books. He had a small TV and some video games tucked away, clearly not used often, and a desk with nothing on it but a laptop, mouse, and set of speakers. It was clean and sparse, a lot like the way Elijah presented himself, a lot like the way he spoke. He sat down in the chair beside it and gestured Caleb to the bed.

Caleb swallowed, sitting on the very edge, back and knees rigid and face bright pink. He was sitting on Elijah Abrams's bed. How many people at school would kill to be in his place right now?

If Elijah noticed, he didn't say anything. "So, this project," he said, digging out a folder and the paper with the assignment guidelines. "I figure we can split up the research half and half, right down the middle? There's ten points, so five each, and then music for you and video for me?"

"That sounds good," Caleb squeaked.

Elijah cleared his throat.

"Hang on, let me get my copy and we'll go through and see."

They talked a few minutes about who would do what, and eventually split the assignment questions based on who found what most interesting. The media aspect wasn't a required part of the project, so they would have to build their own parameters.

"I was thinking of using a couple of clips from various anti-drug PSAs and maybe some old posters," Elijah said. "Here, I'll show you what I mean." He grabbed his laptop and sat down beside Caleb on the bed, a little closer than he had to. Their knees bumped. Caleb's back stiffened again, ears burning, mouth dry. His heart fluttered in a slightly painful but not entirely unpleasant way.

"Are you okay?" Elijah's voice was soft as he put his laptop to the side. Caleb looked up. "You're really tense."

"I..." Caleb started, and then, because he knew he'd never say it if he didn't say it now, he blurted, " I just really want to kiss you and I hope that's not weird and I know I'm nobody special and you have girls crawling all over you at school so you probably don't --"

"What?"

"I really like you," Caleb whispered. He looked down and bit his lip. His eyes darted toward the door, back at his feet, over to Elijah's knees. "And if you don't like me, that's okay, we can still do the project and I promise I won't make it weird or anyth --"

Caleb froze when Elijah's warm lips pressed against his cheek. What was even happening right now did Elijah really just kiss him? He finally looked up at Elijah's face.

"Elijah?"

"I really like you, too," he whispered. "That's... kind of why I asked if you'd help me with chemistry. I didn't know what to say. I didn't want to make things weird if you didn't feel the same way."