He says, “I’ve had something on my mind to show you. Now’s as good a time as any.” He reaches out and takes my hand.
“You should still be mad at me,” I say.
“Summer.”
“Caleb.”
I step toward him, probably to smash my face against his, but he’s starting down the driveway. “Take a drive?”
Right. I shake off the woozy desire. “Sure.”
23
MoonflowerAM @catherinefornevr 9m
The best way to get up early is to not go to sleep. #neversleep
We drive for fifteen minutes, through still-asleep streets, getting stopped at lights with no one else around.
“Man I hate the traffic in this town,” says Caleb.
I answer in a craggy old lady’s voice, “Things aren’t the way they used to be.”
The sun, who we said good night to so recently, returns, blasting through the windshield as we weave through the silent mallscape, and then up into hills of sleeping houses. Finally, we arrive at a fenced-off lot. There’s a stone sign for TERRACE MUNICIPAL PARK, but behind that, high chain-link fence holds a sign reading NOTICE OF PROPOSED LAND USE ACTION, and beside that, COMING SOON: ETERNAL HOPE! SEVEN NEW LUXURY OUTLET STORES! This little park, which I remember had a splash park and a great spiral slide, is the next victim in the zombie retail apocalypse.
Beyond it I can see a geometric footprint of concrete, stuck through with metal support beams.
“Come on.” Caleb grabs the links and starts over the fence. I follow, dropping down to the dirt on the other side. He leads me between the unfinished foundations. There are four,around a central hexagon, a patch of dried-out grass and shrubs, leftover park that hasn’t yet been landscaped.
In the center is a pedestal.
Caleb stops beside it. “Say hello to Pluto.”
The pedestal is the same size as the others I’ve seen, but the model of Pluto itself is no bigger than a marble. It’s coated in a film of dust. I brush it off with my thumb. “Hello, little planet,” I say.
“Dwarf planet, technically,” says Caleb.
“I really like when you get astronomical with me,” I say. This makes him smile. “Are they going to keep it here?”
“I don’t know,” says Caleb, looking around. “It’s no longer a planet. And besides, it’s taking up valuable smoothie space.”
“But it’s lovely.”
I reach for Caleb’s hand and instead he puts his arm around me. “I wanted to wait until we had like, a big date, or homecoming or something, to bring you here.”
I glance back at the fence. “That would have been tough in a dress.”
“Oh. Didn’t think of that.”
He hugs me, and I push my cheek against his neck.
“Thank you,” he says.
“For what?”
“For believing in me. For trying. Even with the Jason thing. You believed so much in our stuff, in my songs.”
“Don’t say ‘believed.’ We’re just getting started.” But then a flash of nerves shoots through. Did he bring me here for some other reason? “Unless . . .”
He looks at me and is surprised by my worry. “Oh, no! Yeah, I mean, believING. Sorry.”
“Okay, good.”
He buries his face in my hair. “Thanks for everything with the tapes, too.”
“I’m so sorry you had to give them up. I’m sorry we didn’t find the songs.”
“It’s okay. Or, it sucks. I don’t know. We were going to get in huge trouble if we tried to play them live. And anyway, the second tape was just as much of a ghost as my dad.” He laughs darkly. “He couldn’t even come through on that.”
I rub his arms. “You came through last night. You played ‘On My Sleeve.’ You nailed the show when things were at their worst. You came through for Matt and Jon. And for me, not that I deserved it.”
“Stop. But thanks.” Caleb sighs. “Maybe it’s better there’s no big lost song. Just us. We can just do our own thing, our own way. Just be what we are.”
I love hearing how his thoughts and mine from last night are on the same wavelength, so much so that I have to resist smothering him with kisses. “Like Pluto,” I say instead.
A smile cracks through. “Yeah, we can be the Pluto of bands. Out here, doing our thing, not giving a damn what people think, or if anyone notices us at all.”
“People are going to notice,” I say. “But yeah, our thing. That’s all we can do, right?”
A minute passes. The bird sounds increase, as does the hum of cars in the distance.
“So,” says Caleb, “now what?”
“Oh man, that’s what my dad asked me,” I say, yawning.
“The boat for Palau probably casts off soon,” says Caleb.
I fall into his shoulder. “Days of sleep in a cargo hold. We’d need immunizations. Passports. SPF 6000.”
“Not if we’re stowaways. And we could sleep under palm trees all day.”
I point to the little planet. A sunbeam is just painting its top. “Maybe after we watch sunrise on Pluto.”
We kiss sleepily, and then watch the golden light crawl across the surface.
I doze off on the drive back to Caleb’s. When the bump of the driveway stirs me, I feel like I’m made of lead, and so, so brain dead.
“Can we have pancakes?” I mumble.
Caleb stops the car, but instead of replying, he says, “What the hell?”
I look out the window, and have to squint hard against the reflection of morning sun blasting off the back bumper of Randy’s van.
And the bumper of another car beside it.
A little blue hatchback, all beat up.
My eyes adjust to the glare and I see just about the last person I’d expect leaning against the back bumper, right beside the New Jersey license plate.
And of course, Val is scowling.
24
MoonflowerAM @catherinefornevr 1m
Mind = SPLAT!
“Hey,” says Caleb as we get out of the car.
“Hey,” says Val.
Our eyes meet for the usual second, in passing only. She looks like she hasn’t slept either. What does it mean that she’s here?
“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming back?”
Val looks around warily. “Can I explain inside?”
“Okay.”
We go quietly down to the basement. Sit on the couch. I end up on one side of Caleb, Val on the other again. She looks really down, but maybe it’s just the exhaustion.
“Look,” she starts, “I haven’t been totally honest with you.”
I refrain from comment.
“Okay,” says Caleb.
“I . . .” and suddenly her eyes start to tear up. She looks at the ceiling. “Things have kinda sucked, you know?” She looks past Caleb to me. “Caleb knows a lot of it. I guess in a way you know more. About how I ran away, how my name is really Cassie. But, you don’t know what it’s like having a family that fucked up. That’s so . . . MIA, except it’s even worse when they’re around.”
“I’m really sorry,” I say.
“I know you think it’s more than coincidence that I’m here, now, that maybe because of my mom, I’ve got some . . . agenda or something.”
“I think you should just tell us,” says Caleb. I’m relieved that he says us even though I know it’s selfish.
Val holds out a clenched fist and uncurls her fingers.
In her palm is a tape.
It’s identical to the other one. I look at her but her eyes are fixed on Caleb. And tears are just pouring out.