That Was Then

16-Now

Abuela does not work for my family in the conventional way. Sure, she cooks and cleans for us, among other things and is paid to do so. But I can't ever remember a time where she wasn't also welcome at the table at dinner with us. She and Mama have weekly movie nights and go shopping together and once I even saw her lick her finger and wipe something off of my dad's face. Mama's parents died when she was really young and Dad doesn't speak to his parents anymore. I don't know all of the details exactly but it had something to do with him marrying Mama.

Anyway, Abuela is family and so we sit down to dinner as a family. I've missed this. The food at Hotchkiss was probably the best cafeteria food you could get but it's still cafeteria food. Caleb sits across from me and throughout the meal I try multiple times to engage him in conversation. He answers questions politely but will hardly even look at me. I finally give up and commence to stuffing my face. I decide, as I fill my plate for a second time, that it is good that I already worked out because I'm not even sure that I'll be able to get up from the table after dinner.

"So..." Mama turns to me during a lull in conversation. "You survived your first day back?" She squeezes my hand in concern.

"Yeah." I stuff my mouth full of tamales and hope that I don't have to say anymore. Like, 'yes Mama, the sabotage is going just according to plan!' I could probably actually tell Mama about it and she would likely be on board. She might even have some helpful ideas. Dad, on the other hand, would not be impressed. He is all about being the bigger person and they never keep anything from each other. Mama's acceptance isn't worth Dad's disapproval. Everyone at the table is looking at me, expectantly. Even Caleb. Apparently, I have to give them more than a one word answer. "It was good." I finally add after swallowing.

"Just good?" Mama prods, clearly wanting more details.

"I like my teachers," I offer meekly.

"Did you make any friends?" Dad asks. It feels like the kind of question one would ask a little kid after their first day of kindergarten.

"I think so... I don't know, I mean nobody invited me over to play after school or anything so I can't be sure." I can't help myself. Dad gives me a mock scolding look for my sarcasm. Mama, Abuela and I giggle.

"I think she is going to be just fine, she made quite the impression today." Caleb interjects, finally meeting my eye. His golden gaze twinkles with knowing and I am practically desperate to know what he heard about me. But I wont ask right then and there in front of everyone. I just hope I'll have the chance to corner him after dinner.

"Oh yeah?" Mama looks pleased. My parents aren't the kind of parents that go around doing whatever they can to make sure their kid is popular, like Kya's mom. But back in middle school, when I was anything but popular, I think it was almost as hard on them as it was on me. Almost.

I get my chance to talk to Caleb after dinner when Mama volunteers us to do dishes so that she and Abuela can go catch up on their shows.

"The DVR is getting full!" Mama tells me when I whine that I ate too much to do dishes. "Caleb, you'll probably have to teach her how to load the dishwasher, our little princess probably forgot how while she was away at boarding school." She drops a kiss on my head before whisking Abuela away to binge watch whatever housewives show they're currently obsessed with.

Dad looks at his cellphone and starts heading in the direction of his office. "Not so fast!" I tell him before he can sneak out.

"Business call, kiddo! Thanks for cleaning up!" I'm pretty sure I saw the homepage for ESPN pulled up on his phone but I let him go anyway. He kisses my cheek and leaves Caleb and I still sitting at the table. Caleb watches me for a minute, studying me. I took a quick shower before coming down to dinner. I have no makeup on, traded my contacts for glasses and threw my wet hair up into a bun. I'm wearing an oversized Bearcats sweatshirt from Hotchkiss and yoga pants. I hold his gaze, studying him right back. It's not exactly a chore. He's not hard to look at. Finally, he gets up from the table and takes a load of dishes to the sink. I start putting things away in the fridge while he starts on the dishwasher.

"So what did you hear about me today?" I finally ask when he hasn't said anything for entirely too long. He still doesn't say anything and I'm starting to think he isn't going to. Just when I feel like I might need to use force to get the information from him, he finally speaks. Too bad, I think I might have liked putting my hands on him.

"Oh, just Seth and some of the other football players taking bets on which one of them is going to hook up with the new girl first." He watches me process this information. I can't really be mad that they're saying that, I'm the one who initiated flirting with Seth but I screw up my face in a look of disgust anyway.

"You're a football player." I point out. Secretly, my money is on Caleb.

"Yeah, I'm not a betting kinda guy." The corners of his lips twitch but before he lets himself smile at me, he turns back to the sink. I bring more dishes from the table and hand them to him, he rinses them and I load them into the dishwasher. "I also heard Allie telling Kya that she got to meet Nikki Tate's daughter. She was pretty excited." I try not to seem too interested in this, I press my lips together in a poor attempt to hide a grin.

"I'm sure Kya loved that."

"She played it off but I think she was pretty pissed." He chuckles.

"So... are you like friends with her now?" The thought only occurs to me as I say it aloud and the idea of it hits me like a sucker punch. How could he be friends with her after what she did to me?

"No!" He says it too quickly, like he knows that's what I want to hear. "We just hang out with the same people." I nod but am quiet as we finish the dishes. 

He watches me for a minute when we finish, I keep my eyes on the the empty sink and think, or hope, he will say something more about it all but all he says is, "I gotta go, we have practice before school all week." I nod again.

"Hey Caleb," I call out when he's just about out the door of the kitchen. He turns to me. "Are you going to stay mad at me forever?" I've caught him off guard with my forwardness. He's not used to it. The old Blakely was passive, never forward, never direct. And I never got anywhere I wanted to be by being being that way.

"No," he says quietly, "not forever."