Caleb

Fourteen

"I would give anything to change this fickle-minded heart that loves fake shiny things" ~ Never Be Like You by Flume feat. Kai

This chapter has not been edited nor has been checked for any grammatical errors, so please bare with the misspelled words.

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Chapter Fourteen

It's already been an hour since we've been inside the small restaurant and I'm spent.

My notebook that I brought with me for writing isn't full as I expected. Instead, it's the complete opposite; freaking. Empty. A complete blank slate.

I groaned in annoyance and leaned on my elbows. This didn't help. I didn't get anything by coming here. I looked to my left and saw Caleb writing something down on a table napkin; must be his observations.

His messy handwriting filled the piece of paper. It was a mix of script and a print handwriting that only he can do. I think he's the only person I know who writes like that.

It still made me feel bummed though. Him being productive, and me just sitting and staring blankly at my notebook and my surroundings around me.

Caleb's hand stopped writing which made me look up. And when I did, his head was tilted to the side, looking at me for a moment and then looking back down to the paper. This made me confused, but when I stared back down on his napkin, he was writing.

"Did you just observe me?"

He placed his pen on the table and folded the napkin. "I may or may have not," he said. "It only depends on how you put it."

I opened my mouth then closed it. Leaning back I said, "You did. You totally did. I don't remember agreeing to being a subject in your social experiment."

Caleb also leaned back, touching my shoulder. "Then I did. It's all part of the experiment. Since you're inside the restaurant, you're instantly one of the people I'm observing. You're no exception Ashley. Anyway, how's the writing going?"

My shoulders slumped in defeat. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I think coming here was a waste of time, well for me anyway."

"No it's not," he shook his head. "You're with me so it's not a waste."

I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just chuckled. "Well I think it's because you have many ideas. I don't believe that you have nothing to write about. You just don't know where to start."

I shoved my notebook at him. "Does this look like I have too many ideas? If I had too many ideas, I would've written them all down by now with scribbles and erasures, but no. I really don't have inspiration. My mind's not even in it's game."

This was true. The whole time after I've finished eating the sundae and doughnut that Caleb bought for the both of us, I was empty. It feels like I'm not in my element today or for the past few days even.

One thing that's been on my mind since we came in here is that we haven't talked about that night. Personally, I want to talk about it, but I'm not so sure if he likes the idea.

"You're probably thinking too much," he guessed. "Why not take a breather?"

"I'm not going outside if that's what you mean."