Walking Out of Stride

Chapter Seven

Elijah took the city bus to school, too. He and Caleb sat side by side in the back, near enough to feel each other's warmth, but not to touch. There were only a few other people around, and Caleb hated it -- he didn't need to make out with Elijah at every available moment or anything, but it would have been so comforting to hold his hand.

Caleb still didn't know what he was going to do when he got home from school tonight. His parents would be furious. They'd been physical with him before, pulling his hair or smacking him on the back of the head, but this time, he was terrified there would be actual, real physical violence waiting for him when he got home, when Elijah wouldn't be there to protect him.

It took a little over twenty minutes to get to school, and the halls were still quiet and mostly empty when they made their way to the classroom. Again, they arrived before Mr. Bingham did. Elijah didn't pull out his book this time, instead leaning against the wall next to Caleb.

"What are you going to do about your mom?" he whispered. There was nobody around to hear, but the halls would echo, and Elijah didn't want any extra attention drawn to them if there didn't have to be.

"Nothing, probably," Caleb snorted. "There's nothing I can do. Just try to stay out of her way, I guess. I'll order a new binder and have it sent to my friend's house. I'll keep it in my locker here at school and change here."

"Caleb, you can't go back there --"

"I have to," he said. "If I'm gone for too long, eventually they'll call the cops. I don't want your family to have any trouble because of me." He shrugged, looking down at his worn sneakers, and sighed. "It is what it is and it's not going to change. Once I can finally start working, I can get out of there. But not until then. I just have to keep my head down and keep to myself."

Elijah huffed in frustration, but didn't argue. And even though Caleb was glad, because he didn't feel up to an argument, he almost wished that Elijah would.

"I really have to be home by 6:30 tonight," Caleb said. Elijah unlocked the door and let them inside. They kicked off their shoes. The laminate tile of the foyer was cold on Caleb's feet even through his socks. "I have to be there for dinner."

"Okay," Elijah said, but it was slow and reluctant. "Mom gets home around 5:30. We can borrow her car and I'll give you a ride so you don't have to take the bus all that way."

"Thank you."

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Elijah asked. They were idling in Caleb's parking lot somewhat near his apartment, as close as they could get without driving on the grass.

"I don't know," Caleb whispered. "But I'll keep in touch with you, okay?"

"Do you want to have a code word or something? If you need me to come get you?"

Caleb fell quiet, thinking. "Animal," he finally said. "Let's use animal."

Caleb turned away from the window when Elijah's hand rested on his knee. "Please be careful," he said. "Please."

Caleb offered a weak smile. "Hey, I've managed this long. A couple more months? I've got this."

Elijah's hand tightened, then dropped away when Caleb stepped out of the car. He waved through the window and offered a thumbs-up, then headed onto the apartment grounds as Elijah drove away.

It was just past 6:30 when he walked in the door. The apartment smelled of cooking dinner, of tomato sauce and garlic, and it would have been pleasant to come home to if not for the people he would have to share it with.

His parents were both in the living room, watching TV with their backs turned to him.

"Arianna," his mom said. He froze. He lowered his hands and clenched his teeth, breathing in hard through his nose as he waited for the inevitable hit. It never came. "You never did the dishes last night. You'd better get them all done tonight or you'll be in a hell of a lot of trouble."