Broken Memory ✓

10. "Are You Okay?"

I emerge from the bathroom in new clothes. My hair is brushed through and still pretty damp, but it isn't dripping wet. Caleb sits on the couch on his phone, looking up at me and slightly smiling. His mom appears from the kitchen and hands me my phone. "This was left in your sweatshirt."

"Oh, thank you," I take the phone and shove it into my pocket, sitting down next to Caleb on the couch. He puts away his phone and glances at me, a neutral expression on his face.

"Hey," he breaks the short silence.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For just... Always standing up for me. I wish I could do it more myself, but I don't have as much courage as you do."

I smile, staring at him. He stares back, awaiting a response. I scooch a tiny bit closer and wrap him into a warm hug. He tenses up a tiny bit, probably taken aback, but rests his arms around me after a few seconds.

After breaking away from the hug, I say, "you do have a lot of courage, though. You deal with so much... A broken memory and the loss of your dad... Constant bullying... You're braver than you realize." He smiles at this, his cheeks turning pink at my words, and stares at me again.

"There's no way I deserve you," he chuckles.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you're such a... An amazing person... And if my dad ran away or killed himself or whatever he did... If I'm constantly being blamed for deaths at school... I must have caused something. Bullies don't usually target outcasts for deaths, do they?"

"Do you remember doing anything messed up? At all?"

He shrugs. "I basically just remember I was bullied at age ten. All memories before then kind of fade away, no matter how hard I try to recall them. I can't even remember my teachers before ten."

"When did your dad leave, if you don't mind telling me?"

He pauses, deciding if he wants to tell me anything or not, but ends up sighing. "Just... This stays between you and me, okay? Nobody has ever known this."

"I promise."

"The only memory I have of my dad..." He lowers his voice so it's just above a whisper. Not even his mom can hear it. "... Is laying in a bed. I could see his face crystal clear. He looked distraught... I remember turning my head and only seeing white everywhere. He sat next to me, holding my hand, I could see his lips move... But couldn't hear him... Or I can't remember what he was telling me. I remember it looked like he hadn't showered in days... His hair was greasy and he was sweating so badly..."

"Oh, God... I'm so sorry. That's such a strange memory to have as your only one of him..."

"I wish I knew what he was saying or why he seemed so upset... I wish I knew where he was," Caleb's voice cracks at the end of his sentence and I'm afraid he might start crying. I gently take his hand and squeeze it, trying to show I'm there. He squeezes back, keeping his eyes centered on his shoes.

Caleb's mom walks back in, pausing for a moment seeing us holding hands, but doesn't say anything about it. With my other hand, I get out my phone and look at the notifications cluttering my screen.

'6 new text messages'

Oh boy. From both Mom and Dad.

Dad: What? What happened?

Dad: You better not be gone too long

Dad: Mom's gonna freak out

Mom: Where are you?