Exotic

~ at arm's length ~

Monday came, and Caleb still hadn't responded to my increasingly insistent messages. I was past the point of being ashamed for double texting; anyone who went through Caleb's phone would have me painted as desperate. Despite the humiliation of being ghosted, I was still vibrating with anticipation to see him when Aaron pulled into his usual spot.

"Don't you have Modern History first period?" Aaron asked, flicking off his wipers. A light drizzle had been falling all morning, cloaking the city in a light fog. On any other day, I would have been reluctant to leave the warm cocoon of his car. My fingers were itching on the door handle, only just restraining myself from throwing it open. "Why so eager? I know you didn't have time to finish the homework."

I slapped my forehead. "Fuck."

"I cannot believe I remember these things. I don't even take Mod," Aaron snorted.

From over my seat, Max clapped my shoulder, "You guys are picking me up after training, right?"

"In your dreams, you freeloader," Aaron slapped him in the back of his head. "I do have a life outside chauffeuring you around, you know."

Max's smile faltered a little, and I wondered if he was remembering our conversation from the day before. But it was fixed in place not a moment later, and he dragged his soccer bag out of the backseat with a hurried goodbye before the door slammed, and Aaron and I were alone in the car.

I went for the door handle again, only to find it locked. I jiggled it a little and turned to find Aaron fidgeting with the central locking panel. His eyes were pinned on me with laser focus, and I knew I wasn't getting out of the car until he was done with me. I found myself gulping.

"So," he finally said with a dramatic pause. "Caleb Proust."

I let my eye fall closed like shutter doors. I'd been avoiding the subject whenever Aaron raised it. He had let me back out of talking about it five times in total, and I got the distinct feeling he had run out of patience.

"How long?"

I sighed through my nose, long and loud and exceptionally Aaron-like. "You get why I didn't tell you, right?"

"Of course I get it," he said gently. "It wasn't your secret to tell. But I wish you'd told me there was someone. Then I wouldn't have made dumb assumptions about the source of your brooding, like unrequited crushes on straight men."

"I don't brood."

"Too true. You mope. It's thoroughly depressing to watch."

I kicked my feet up on the dash. We were going to be there for a while. "For the record, we're not... anything. We weren't. I don't think we'll... he's..."

Aaron, cruel as he was smug, just let me stammer. I finally slammed my hands down by my sides.

"We're not together."

Aaron raised both eyebrows. "Does he know that?"

I dropped my head to my right shoulder to glare at him. "He was drunk last night. He's not usually like... that."

"I know. He's one hundred percent the brooding type," Aaron mused. "So, you and Lauren was just a cover for you to carry on your torrent love affair behind his parents back? How Downtown Abbey of you."

"I prefer Game of Thrones," I slipped down to the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling. "It's a little more... complicated than that."

So, I told him everything. By the time I wrapped up, with a flustered recap of the night before, Aaron's face had gone from giddy to concerned, with an expressionless mask that I couldn't decipher.