24. Chapter 24

Chapter twenty-four

Kelsey

Juliette had been in her room all day while Caleb and I played a competitive game of go-fish and binged a few episodes of a mafia crime drama. Lunchtime rolled by (more toast), and Juliette still hadn't come out of her room.

"It's almost time, do you still want to go house hunting?" Caleb asked me between bites.

I wasn't exactly looking forward to it, and there was this indescribable feeling deep in my gut when I thought about it—the inevitability of it. That feeling was overshadowed by the way I felt about my childhood home. I hadn't been home in weeks, not for more than a few minutes. I told myself it was because I didn't want to be around Caleb, but deep inside I knew better.

As if a forcefield, tangible but invisible, had fallen around my childhood home. There was this sense of dread whenever I was there. Not only dread. It was a mixture of pain, hatred, and a love so messy I avoided the place where I grew up altogether.

I'd been so viciously opposed to leaving that place at first. I wanted to kick Caleb out and stay.

Somewhere between abandonment and living with Juliette, buying a new house became preferable to ever setting foot in that old house again. Of the two undesirable options, starting fresh with my new dad was less... less something.

Less hard. Less emotionally taxing. Less to line up and sort out.

I wouldn't even acknowledge the feelings that loomed in the periphery about having to move back in with Caleb. There weren't words there yet. Just feelings. A mass of writhing, undulating feeling that if I told Dr. Liu, she'd say I needed help to detangle. It was so much easier to pretend they weren't there, and hope Caleb and Juliette would let us all live like this indefinitely.

Or that I could prolong this situation long enough that when I did move in with my father, it would be in a new place where Mom didn't live in the walls. He was right about a new start all along, not that I could ever admit this out loud after my embarrassing explosions over the idea.

There's something humiliating about feelings.

"I'm worried about Juliette," I said, evading his question.

Caleb frowned as he looked up towards her room, as though he had x-ray vision and could see through to check on her. "She should be feeling better by now," he said. "Let's go check for signs of life."

We dropped our toast and followed one another up the half-staircase and down the hall to her room. Caleb didn't hesitate at the door. He knocked and cracked it open. "Jules?" he whispered.

Ew, that's new.

"Juliette?" Caleb crossed to her bedside and put the back of his hand to her forehead. The tension in his shoulders visibly dropped. "You don't feel warm," he murmured and called her name again. She stirred and I watched as she rolled to her back and Caleb brushed some of her hair from her eyes.

I stepped cautiously to his side, feeling weird about being in her room, intrusive. "How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Better," she replied. "Like shit," she added.

"Like shit, or better than shit?" Caleb retracted his hand and stuffed them in the pockets of his sweats.

"Better than shit."

The three of us were quiet for a beat until Caleb asked, "I made toast. Are you hungry?"

"It's restaurant quality toast," I said, as dryly as said toast that awaited her.

"Oh, I'm sure your—Caleb's toast is Michelin star rated."

"Zagat, actually," Caleb said, shooting me a half-smile that I returned. Juliette looked a hundred times better than she had the night before .

See? I prayed to whatever entity was responsible for my misfortunes. We get along so well like this. We don't need a new house, or an old one. Let us stay like this.

I pushed the thought aside and mustered the courage to ask, "Are you up for some house hunting?"

She shook her head and burrowed deeper under her covers. "No, you guys go. I'm going to bleach-bomb the house."

Caleb and I shared an apprehensive look. We both knew she was the oil to this machine, and without her the chances of us working together were unknown. Running together every day was easy, there were no stakes, no possible disagreements. Most days we ran mostly silent, learning how to be comfortable in each other's presence.

"I can call the realtor and set up some time during the week." Caleb was offering me a way out. Briefly, I worried if I had spoken my thoughts out loud.

"No," I said on impulse, "Let's go see a few."

Because this was inevitable.

Prolonging this made no sense anymore. Caleb and I could go house hunting together, alone. We could do this without it getting unbearable. We'd spent the whole day alone so far, and I didn't feel like jumping out of an airplane without a parachute.

We could do this.

And we did, but with significantly less chatting than my self-imposed-pep-talk had hoped for.

The first house was the smallest, with a white picket fence and kitchen so sterile it felt like a hospital. Caleb dropped into the driver's seat and asked, "Did you like it?"

"It was so white."

"My thoughts exactly. Plus, the yard is small."

We drove in silence to the second house. I was taken aback when a mansion popped up in the distance of what I thought was a road, but turned out to be the driveway. "No way," I blurted.

" No way, good or bad?"

"No way bad." I said, pointing at the McMansion .

Without a word he flashed his lights and turned the car around, laughing. The realtor that was working with him got the hint and turned her car around too. "I thought you'd like that one."

"It was enormous."

"Exactly. We could be in the house together and you'd never even know because I could be ten thousand square feet away."

"In that case, turn around," I deadpanned, grinning despite myself.

We went into two more houses, bigger than the first, but smaller than the second. I let myself get wrapped up in the possibilities, a lifestyle several degrees more luxurious than I ever had with Mom.

I kept the bitter thoughts of my mother at bay by shutting my brain off entirely and acting as if this were choreography. My job was to look, learn, and practice the way it would feel to live in these homes. Forget that she left. Pretend like this was a lucky turn of fate that would afford me my own bathroom.

Enjoy my father's company without tasting the sour abandonment at the back of my palette.

Dr. Liu wanted to know my thoughts so badly, stressed the importance of honoring our thoughts and feelings. I just wanted to not think.

I wanted to act like I was innocently house-hunting with my dad on a Sunday afternoon the way the realtor assumed. It was easy to be there if I was playing a role.

Juliette

I didn't get around to bleaching the house. After what felt like the deepest sleep of my life, I woke up starving. Throwing my hair into a braid, I rummaged through my collection of legwarmers and chose one of the thickest pairs I owned. It was raining, and my ankles would start aching the minute the Tylenol wore off .

His voice floated to me from the kitchen. They were home.

"It's cold more than half the year."

Kelsey replied in a hesitant tone, "It's really hot in the summer."

"I'll take your word for it, but in Cali it's hot almost all year, so you really never close-up the pool if you don't want to. Seems like a waste of square footage on an already small yard," Caleb said matter-of-factly.

"Okay."

I rounded the last step and caught a glimpse of Kelsey's lips in a thin line, her brow arched. She didn't seem to agree about the pool situation at all.

"Hey, look who rose from the dead!" Caleb's expression was hopeful, borderline giddy, as he flipped through open house paperwork they'd brought home. Kelsey's, not so much.

"Did you see any you like?" I asked Kelsey.

"Yeah. They were all really nice," she answered. I took a look at the listing closest to me and had a stroke. Three million dollars.

Three.

Million.

Dollars.

My little split level had cost me five-hundred thousand, when I bought it ten years ago. It was probably worth eight-hundred thousand now with inflation, but still.

Three?

I perused the others and gawked at the price tags. He had taken her to the expensive part of town.

"This one was my favorite," Caleb said, pushing a swanky, modern architectural house to me. Yeah… me too, I thought. It was too gray for my taste, but the kitchen was worth overlooking the lack of color.

I'd paint that sitting room a deep emerald green. Kelsey loved that color for her costumes. I'd stuff the whole thing with plants and make a little jungle meditation and stretching room out of it.

"Did you have a good time, Kelsey?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure. It was fun," came her monotone reply.

Oh no .

"Anything worth putting in an offer?"

"No, I don't think so," Kelsey said, looking at Caleb.

"Nothing stood out, yet," he shrugged.

"There's always next week," Kelsey said, excusing herself.

We watched her until she disappeared before discussing. "See, it was fun ," Caleb beamed.

"I don't think that's what she meant." I shook my head.

"That's what she said."

"She shut down and said whatever she thought we wanted to hear."

"No. She and we had a great time."

"You had a great time. She did not give off the same ecstatic enthusiasm," I said before downing a glass of water. I set the chicken soup on the stove and watched as Caleb's shoulders sunk and his smile faded. "Don't worry about it. I'll get to the bottom of it when you leave. I'm sure it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with Erin."

"Maybe I should talk to her instead."

"No. I'll do it. She'll open up to me," I insisted. Caleb frowned, but nodded.

"It was a little awkward without you, but she kept refusing to come home without seeing all of the open houses on the list."

"A good sign."

"I thought so."

I turned my back to him and stirred the soup idly, plotting how best to approach Kelsey later.

Caleb interrupted my mental gymnastics. "Juliette, are we friends?"

"What?" It took me a second to register the question. "Yeah. Why?" I glanced at him over my shoulder.

Caleb's expression lacked his usual undertone of mischief and unfazed optimism. His jaw clenched and unclenched, brow pinched together. Deep brown eyes demanding truth. "You would tell me if you thought I should give up, right? You'd tell me if I was still wearing rose-colored lenses?"

I closed the distance between us in three strides, ready for another whispered conversation. "Of course I'd tell you. "

I had the sudden and unwelcome urge to pull him into my arms. Acting of its own accord, my hand traveled down from his elbow to his hand, as if holding his hand would erase that look in his eyes. As if I could take back the insecurity I'd caused.

Caleb broke our eye contact and pulled his hand away from mine. "I mean it. You would tell me?"

"I don't have to tell you. She's coming around."

"Are you just saying this to make me feel better?" Caleb leaned back on the counter, gripping the stone until his knuckles turned white. Across the way, the chicken soup began to boil.

I ignored it and placed my hand on his. "If I didn't think this would work out, I'd be scheming Kelsey away from you, not pushing you two together."

"Yeah, you're right." He chuckled humorlessly and rubbed the back of his neck, exposing his triceps and a wry smile. "God," he sighed, "I'm fucking alone here. You're all I've got. I don't thank you enough."

The words sliced through my chest. My heart felt like it could crumple, break under the pressure. "I'm used to picking up the pieces. It's part of the job." I shrugged as if I weren't bleeding out for Kelsey and Caleb to find a way to each other. I turned my back to him and shut off the burner, my stomach agreeing to sip some of the broth.

"I didn't think it would be this hard," he admitted, finally.

"Yeah, nobody does." Taking my place next to him, I gave in to the magnetic pull between us.

He had no self control either. Caleb inched closer to me until our shoulders touched and whispers were all that was needed.

Friends , he had asked. I thought about how much I enjoyed his company now. How I was afraid that he would discard me after this experience was over. How the forbidden sexual attraction between us seeped through the cracks in the walls we'd built between us. Friends.

Maybe time would tether us so that I'd mean something to him, too.

"I'm sure she just got ruffled because you disagreed over the pool," I said, bumping his hip with mine .

"I'll buy her fifty pools if that'll make her like me." A lock of Caleb's deep hazelnut hair fell, unruly, over his brow.

"You can't buy love."

"You're telling me."

"Apparently! What are you thinking taking her to that side of town?"

Exasperated, Caleb turned his palms to the ceiling. "Everything here is tiny unless you go into the millions." He pushed off the counter and faced me.

"My house isn't small!" I gestured around my house and panned back to Caleb whose mouth was agape, like he was trying to speak but shut his mouth, thinking better of it. "Say it."

"Nothing. Your house is adorable. It's very well decorated." His voice slipped above a whisper. "And cozy?"

I gasped dramatically, but then clamped my mouth shut. Caleb pressed his lips together in a forced smile. "I want to be offended, but looking at these listings makes my house look like a family of calico critters lives here." I shoved my empty bowl of broth to him, which he took and tossed into the sink behind him.

We dipped back under the surface together, whispering. Getting closer.

"The rooms are a little shoe-boxy," he said, matter-of-factly. "Sorry."

"Screw you, daddy Warbucks." I kicked his ankle playfully. Fully, torturously, aware that I was finding excuses to touch him.

Friends.

"I work in tech," he shrugged, reached over me, and pulled a banana off the fruit bowl I always kept out. His chest brushed against my shoulder. I held my breath until his body receded.

"Clearly, I went into the wrong profession."

"No," he said, just a little too quickly. "You were made to dance." The snap of the banana peel ripping open served as punctuation.

I felt heat roll over my cheeks and spread down my neck.

"Stop blushing. I could watch you all day. I had no idea how much I could like ballet until I met you." He took a bite of the banana.

I watched his pupils dilate and contract .

"And Kelsey," he added, quickly, like the afterthought it was. "Maybe I like it because I like the both of you."

I was sure that he had no internal monologue because he said whatever came to his mind. At what point had this become endearing?

I had a thought—one that raced to my lips faster than I could catch it. "I teach a class to some of the moms at the studio on Friday nights, and the significant others go out to the bar on the corner while we dance. If you want, I can text the group and tell them you're new in town and looking for some friends."

He licked the corner of his lips and tilted his head. "Sounds kinda desperate, don't you think?"

"Not at all. It started because we all wanted a friend group. It's invitation only," I blurted, "It's a secret between us and the spouses." I hadn't intended to ever include Caleb in my Friday night group. My mouth was moving too fast for me to stop it.

He raised a brow. "I'm not your spouse, or significant other."

"You're significant enough. I make the rules."

" Significant enough ." Caleb's smile made him so handsome I looked away. "Aw, Juliette, I'm flattered," he deadpanned.

"One of the boyfriends is a dance dad that I (the single woman who teaches the class) introduced to one of the single women in the class. I can be quite the matchmaker."

"And yet, you avoided FedEx dreamboat for how long?"

I scoffed. "Oh, yeah. Him. Well…"

To be honest, I had forgotten all about him since we all got sick. He hadn't texted me either, so that was dead on arrival. I shed an internal tear over my years long dry spell that had almost been broken.

I didn't need sex, but it had felt exhilarating to be wanted like that.

I caught myself watching Caleb lick a tiny piece of banana from his thumb, his lips closing over the tip, his eyes never breaking contact with mine. It did something. Something very forbidden, and gross, and crazy. Impossible. Stupid. A flash of curiosity.

His lips were so full and soft. They'd feel so good.

"Juliette?"

"What?"

"You left me there for a second."

"I'm fine, sorry. My mind wandered. Studio stuff."

"What time is the class?" he asked.

"Seven-thirty."

Caleb shook his head. "Never mind. It's weird."

If I had any sense, I'd take that as a way out of this really, truly bad idea.

He needs friends. My heart whispered.

Besides, I hadn't told him they all come into the studio to watch the show after. He would most likely leave. Maybe the other-halves would do it for me by not wanting him to come in to watch; therefore sending him home themselves. Plus, even if he did watch. So what? It was just dancing. Wasn't I the one always preaching liberation through movement?

Now was the time to prove it.

My mind was made up. "It's not weird. I'm texting them now."

The curious, mischievous serpent inside of me didn't say a word. She simply grinned and settled down, coiling into a knot of anxious anticipation.

What the fuck had I gotten myself into?

I begged myself to stop flirting with him. To stop the invitation I knew would cross every line. Simple as Kindergarten math, I needed to stop.

Then the bastard raked his eyes down my body and I felt every searing inch . Caleb, stop smiling at me. Stop.