“Whispering? He’s been shouting lately.”
“My thoughts exactly. He’sshoutinghow I can get in on the ground floor of all new development in the East End.”
“More Mr. Pottering. George Bailey doesn’t want any ground floors, remember?”
“Did you recently watch that movie? How do you remember all the lines?”
“We watched it every Christmas and Christmas-in-July when I was growing up. It was Mom’s favorite.”
“Do you have to go back to the paper tonight?”
“No, the files transfer to the press on a schedule. Floyd will let me know if anything goes wrong. And frankly, what can top today?”
“Let’s go to the Starlight, roll away our troubles. End this day on a happy note.”
Emery caught his face between her hands and gently kissed him. “Are you asking me on a date, Caleb Ransom?”
“Yes I am, Emery Quinn.”
Just as they laced on their skates, the DJ called for a couples’ skate. The lights dimmed, and the disco ball shot rainbow colors across the floor as Colbie Caillat sang “Fallin’ For You.” Instantly, Caleb was back to the moment he knew he was falling for a girl who would leave at the end of summer.
Only tonight, he determined to never let her go.
26
CALEB
Then . . .
Getting comfortable wasn’t easy after the bashing he endured from West End’s defensive line tonight. And the interception he threw in the final two minutes of the game on fourth and goal played over and over in his mind.
He’d let the team down. Let himself down. And on enemy turf. But the Eagles’ defense held the Panthers, and by the grace of God, Nickle High walked away with the W.
But more than a rough game powered by his mistakes, he missed his sister. In the past, she’d stretch out on the bed with him for a little post-game breakdown. Then they talked about life—school, homecoming, what they wanted to eat for Thanksgiving, what they’d get Mom and Dad for Christmas.
The absence of her voice rang in his ears. Her eighteenth birthday passed without any fanfare, though Mom sent her some money. She’d texted her thanks a day later.
Along with his almost-game-losing interception, he couldn’t stop picturing the girl on the West End High sideline who looked like Cassidy. Only skinnier and with shorter hair. When he tried to get a better look, she was gone.
His parents had resigned themselves to the new way of life, which bothered him a little. Last summer he wanted them to kick her out; now he wanted them to go after her.
Mom kept all the family routines and traditions—like making a victory cake for Caleb after the game. He devoured it with Shift, Jumbo, and Kidwell.
In the middle of washing down a large bite of cake with a glass of milk, Shift asked,“Whatever happen to Emery,Queen of Operation Revenge?”
“Back in Cleveland.”Short and sweet, leaving no room for questions.
Caleb gave up on sleeping, flipped on the small lamp by his bed, and reached for his laptop.
On Facebook, he searched for Emery Quinn, his heart ka-chunking when her pretty face popped on the screen.
He typedHion her Wall, then deleted it.Hi? Don’tbe dumb,Ransom.Just send her a message.
The only way to contact Emery was through Facebook. Dad was making him save up to buy his own phone, since he “lost it.” Caleb couldn’t bring himself to tell him Cass tossed it in the Gulf. He’d messaged Emery “Happy Birthday” in October, but she never responded. She’d missed his September birthday, but he didn’t mind.
Then she posted her mom had died. He’d stared at the post for a long time, trying to understand. Mrs. Quinn was dead? It didn’t feel real.
Em, your mom died? Was she sick? Are you okay? I don’t know what to say, but I wish I was there with you. I don’t have a phone right now. Cass threw mine in the Gulf. Can you send me your number? I’ll call you on the landline.
