13. Rhys

13

RHYS

“ D on't forget that your papers are due this Friday before you leave for Thanksgiving break. Make sure you are not waiting until the last second to write these since they are a significant portion of your grade. I will be able to tell! Class dismissed,” Professor Graham called out across the room as we packed up to go.

I waited until most of the class emptied before I headed out, thinking about the final touches I needed to put on my paper. I was lost in my thoughts when hands squeezed around my middle, forcing out an embarrassing squeak and sky rocketing my adrenaline.

“Son of a donkey!” I screeched as I whipped around to see the culprit. Cal was laughing shamelessly a few steps behind, clearly enjoying my dramatics.

“You are the most skittish, jittery person I've ever met. You make it way too easy,” Cal chuckled, eyes still shining with mirth.

I shot him a dirty glare and hiked my bag up higher on my shoulder, hating the jolt of happiness I got from seeing him. Since our lunch last Tuesday, we'd been texting much more and Cal had surprised me a couple times after classes to have lunch with me. I had told him in no uncertain terms that I would never give him my entire class schedule because I didn't trust him with such sensitive intel.

Two hours.

That butt-faced baboon cracked me in two hours .

Okay, maybe I was secretly happy he had asked in the first place, but whatever.

“I'm well aware that I'm a neurotic mess. Thank you so much for pointing it out on this lovely afternoon. What's next on the agenda? Dissecting my childhood trauma?” I asked sardonically, leading us out of the building.

Cal's rough chuckle vibrated through me, making me feel warm all over. “As titillating as that sounds, I was thinking tacos. I assume you're okay with that alternative?”

I snuck a glance in his direction and it stole my breath seeing how good he looked. It wasn't like I hadn't noticed before, but this last week had been different. He'd been relaxed and playful each time we talked, his unforgiving mask nowhere to be seen. This was the Cal I had always suspected had been hidden away and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enthralled. Seeing him this carefree was a breathtaking sight to behold.

“Hey? You all good?”

Cal's voice yanked me back to reality and I realized I'd been staring at him like a loon. His brow perked up quizzically as heat crept up my neck.

“What? Oh! Yeah, I'm fine. I mean, I'm good. Sorry. Uh, tacos sound great. Love a good taco. Haven't had one of those in forever and I'm starving, so honestly I'd eat just about anything, but tac—tacos are good. Yep.”

What. A. Moron. Seriously, Rhys? Are you an actual functioning human right now? You sound like an escaped mental patient.

“Okay, weirdo. Tacos it is,” Cal responded, his smile bright. I didn't trust myself not to sound like a babbling idiot again, so I simply nodded and let him lead the way.

We settled on Torchy's Tacos after Cal nearly had a conniption when I told him I'd never eaten there before. I was oddly satisfied I wasn't the only one prone to hysterics in our dynamic, so I let him have that one.

“So do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?” I asked around a mouthful of barbacoa. I bit back my moan when the flavor exploded on my tongue and sweet Lord on high, he may have been right about this place. That's annoying.

Cal froze imperceptibly before continuing with his meal. “Nah, not really. There's this house party that my friend Kenji's throwing Saturday night, so I might go to that. His parents have a house on Lake Travis that they let him use from time to time.”

“Seriously? They just let him throw a kegger whenever he wants? No questions asked?” I could sense this was one of those times where the differences between my life and Cal's would be thrown into sharp relief. I was worlds away from the kinds of people who could afford houses on Lake Travis or who even enjoyed boozy college parties. It sent a twinge of self-consciousness through me wondering, not for the first time, what Cal saw in me.

“Hell no. He's allowed to have “a few friends over”, but his parents don't know about how wild those parties get. Kenj kills the security cameras for the party and turns them back on afterwards. He pays a crew to clean up and his folks are none the wiser,” Cal explained.

“Must be nice,” I snorted. Cal gave me a strange look that I couldn't quite peg.

“You should come,” he said and I choked a bit on the soda I was guzzling.

“Wait, what?”

“Come to the party,” Cal continued, his voice steady and sincere. “It starts around nine. It's always a blast and there's skinny dipping if you want to get real freaky with it,” he chuckled while reaching for his phone. Two seconds later my phone pinged with the address for Kenji's house.

“Hold up, you really want me to come? Isn't it all jocks and people like—” I cut myself off before I unintentionally offended him, but he just smirked back.

“People like me? Sweetness, there are no people like me,” he winked. “Also yes, it's a lot of athletes, but this isn't high school. Everyone's chill and drunk at these things usually. It's not like some teen drama where there's assholes left and right.”

His reassurance would have been nice, except for the thought that needled at my brain. “Were you the asshole anomaly at the last party then?” I blurted out before I could think better of it.

Way to get a grip on that brain-to-mouth filter thing, you half-wit. Really superb social skills you've got going for you.

Cal's gaze darkened slightly and I wished I could swallow the words back down and choke on them. I braced myself for his ire, but he continued to surprise me.

“You're right. I was definitely an asshole to you and you just had shit luck running into me on that particular night. It's no excuse for anything, but that was a really rough day for me. It always is,” Cal said gruffly. He wouldn't look in my direction and my chest pinched at the lost look on his handsome face.

“Why is that day so hard for you?” I cautiously questioned.

“It's not important,” he said quickly, shutting me down. “So what about your break? Going anywhere special?”

The Nosey Nelly in me wanted to press him for an answer, but I went along with his change of topic to keep the peace. “Not really. I usually travel to Oklahoma for Christmas to be with my Gran, but Thanksgiving is normally spent here. I think my roommate is also staying in town, so we'll probably hang out.”

Cal just nodded and went back to chowing down. We sat in easy silence for a while, one that fell over me like a blanket, comforting and peaceful. I never in a million years would have guessed that anything relating to Cal would bring me comfort, but shocker of shocker and miracle of miracles.

Cal's phone buzzed on the table and he picked it up to check. Instantly, his face paled and it seemed marred with both anger and sadness.

“Cal, you okay?”

He was unresponsive, his posture rigid and frozen as he stared at his phone. I was itching to know who had texted and what they could possibly say to kill his good mood in three seconds flat. I reached across the table and grasped his hand gently, swaying his attention back to me.

He swung his gaze back up to mine and I saw the watery sheen across his eyes. His green iris grew deeper and darker as the blue lightened and became almost pearlescent. I could get lost in those eyes as easily as Alice down the rabbit hole. If I fell into him, would I find Wonderland?

Cal abruptly pulled his hand out from under mine and started gathering his bag. I was yanked out of my absurd thoughts and thrown off by the jarring shift between us.

“Wait, where are you going?” I asked, hating the slight hint of panic in my tone.

“I've gotta get home,” he bit out.

“But are you alright? Can I help at all?”

He huffed out an exasperated breath. “I'm fine. Just leave it alone. I'll catch you later.” He hurried out the front door before I could even take a breath. I tried to imagine what kind of family emergency or apocalyptic event caused him to pull a 180 and leave me sitting there gaping like a fish.

I let out a deep, resigned sigh. Even though Cal was starting to show me a better side of himself, he was still a mystery to me, mercurial and capricious as he was captivating.

I needed to remind myself that as fast as this friendship between us had sparked, it could just as quickly flame out and leave me burned in its wake.

The doorbell rang and I found a stopping point on my paper before I ran to get it. My grocery delivery had arrived and not a minute too soon. I had fallen down the deep, dark hole of homework for seven straight hours without eating, even cutting my classes for the day to get it done. If Gran knew I was skipping school and meals, she'd tan my hide. It had been a bad habit of mine as a kid, getting too focused and lost in whatever I was doing that I sort of detached from the world for hours at a time. A couple of hard come-to-Jesus moments with Gran had snapped me out of it. Well, for the most part.

Thinking about Gran had homesickness hitting me square in the chest, and I made a mental note to call her later. Gran wasn't like most grandmothers. She was younger than most and very…quirky. We were close and I told her pretty much everything, within reason. She knew all about Connor and what I experienced with him, just without the gory details. I hadn't yet told her about Cal and our bizarre saga, which was not the norm in our relationship. It should have been second nature to call her up to process it all, but something held me back.

With the sordid history I had with bullies back home, I did worry that Gran would judge me for trying to build a friendship with Cal considering what he did and had planned for me. It was also quite possible that I didn't want to run the risk of spilling to Gran how I had all but pleaded for Cal to do dirty, bad things to me each time he…bullied me. Let's be honest, it wasn't my finest hour. Desperate and horny wasn't a great look for me.

Though it didn't seem like that would be an issue anymore if Cal continued the way he had been. He hadn't touched me since the bathroom quickie, and unless I was wildly oblivious, he wasn't throwing any more naughty vibes my way. I wasn't entirely sure I wanted him to, but…I also didn't not want him to. I mean, it was something to consider. He was very good at it.

I hadn't heard from him since he ditched me at lunch yesterday. I grappled longer than I should have with the idea of texting him before I sucked it up and sent him a single message.

Me

Hey, just checking to see how you are. I'm here if you need a friend to talk to.

It was left on read. It probably shouldn't have stung as much as it did, but I wasn't exactly surprised either. Cal and I were still feeling out the whole friendship thing, or the “undefined, unconventional friendly” thing as he put it. What a freak.

I didn't really know where the boundaries were, but I wanted him to know I'd be there for him if he needed me. Horrifyingly enough, one glance at those smoldering eyes of his could have me on my knees faster than a Catholic in church. It probably wasn't healthy that I was that far gone seeing as how Cal used to hate my very existence, but that's what denial was for.

As if conjured from my tortured thoughts, a text from Cal lit up my phone. I ignored how sad it was that I practically tripped over my feet to get to it.

I beg you, just have a little bit of chill. Just a teaspoon! It wouldn't kill you, you hopeless oaf. Good grief.

Miscreant

Is that offer to talk still good?

Me

Yeah, of course. Wanna come over? Micah's not here and I was about to make some food.

Miscreant

Sounds good. Text me the address.

Thanks, Rhys.

My heart puttered in my chest a few seconds before I sent him my address. I was most likely overthinking things, but something about Cal reaching out to talk to me felt monumental. Knowing what I did about him, I doubted he was the kind of person who reached out to just talk to people, even his friends. My mind buzzed with the possibilities of what was going on in that beautiful head of his, but I pushed them aside and straightened my living room before he got there.

Not even ten minutes later, he knocked on my door. I didn't know what I expected, but Cal looking utterly wrecked wasn't in the top five of that list. I motioned for him to come in and he swept into the apartment, that spicy bergamot scent pricking at my nose. I had to restrain myself from inhaling deeply like a creeper.

Cal took in his surroundings, appraising my space with his back to me so I couldn't tell what he was thinking. He finally turned and gave me a soft smile, the sight of it lighting me up instantly.

“I like your place. It's cozy and inviting, you know?” he said, making his way to one of the kitchen island stools.

“Thanks,” I murmured, unsure of myself now that he was there. His presence seemed to take up the whole room, sucking out all the oxygen I needed for my brain to work properly. I fidgeted in place, trying to remember what I had been doing before Cal arrived.

I was doing something…something important. It wasn't a shower, was it? Oh God, please tell me I showered recently! No, that wasn't it…I smell fine. Maybe in the kitchen? Yeah, that sounds right. Something in the kitchen… FOOD! It was food! Score one for Rhys!

“Uhh, Rhys? You alive in there?” Cal's voice reached me through the ADHD-fueled scramble in my head.

“Oh! Sorry, did you say something?” I asked, my cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“I was just saying thank you for letting me come over like this,” Cal said softly, that green and blue gaze of his stopping me in my tracks. “I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to be a dick.”

“It's okay. You don't owe me an apology,” I told him. “So, have you eaten? I was thinking?—”

“It's my mom's birthday today,” Cal blurted out quietly. I froze, thrown off by his admission. I turned to catch his eyes, misery radiating off him.

“Oh…how are you handling it? I'm sure it can't be easy,” I responded softly.

“I typically handle it like shit,” Cal chuckled humorlessly. “The anniversary of her death is always the worst, but her birthday…birthdays were a big deal to her. She always went all out for both of us. Since she died, I haven't wanted to celebrate any of mine, and hers…” he t railed off on a rough whisper. My arms twitched with the desire to hold him, provide comfort however I could, but I held my ground, not wanting to send him running.

“I understand. Special occasions without my parents are still really difficult for me too. Even when I try to celebrate in their honor, it feels like I'm writing over the memories we had together. Replacing them somehow. I hate that now I technically have more memories without them than I had with them…and it hurts,” I shared, my voice thick with emotion. Cal's pitiful gaze met mine again and that urge to go to him escalated.

“That's why I don't like to celebrate it anymore. I tried the year after she died, but it somehow made the pain worse. More acute, I guess. Her birthday is like a magnifying glass on all the ways I miss her, all the birthdays she's missing.” A stray tear escaped his eye and he hurried to brush it away. On instinct, I reached across the island and grabbed his hand.

For a split second I thought he'd reject the comfort I offered, but when his hand tightened warm and firm around mine, heat flooded my body and tingles spread out from where we were connected. He wasn't looking at me anymore, but I was thankful he couldn't see how that small contact affected me, flushing my skin and accelerating my pulse. We stood there in mournful, but comfortable silence for a few minutes before he cleared his throat and released my hand.

“If you trust me, I think I have something that will make you feel a little better,” I said hesitantly. He simply nodded and I got to work in the kitchen. A few minutes later I placed the grilled cheese and bowl of tomato soup in front of him, assessing his confused look.

“Whenever I was upset or sick or just needed a pick-me-up, my mom would always make me grilled cheese and tomato soup,” I explained. “It was one of my favorite things growing up, so when I miss her, I make it for myself. I figured it might help since you're missing your mom today.”

Cal stared down at the food and I worried I had gone too far, crossed that invisible line that said I overstepped and he'd shut down on me.

“Thank you,” Cal said gruffly. I finally took a breath when it was apparent he wasn't upset with me.

While we ate, Cal didn't talk and I held back the myriad of questions I wanted to ask him. About his mom, their life together, how he coped with it all…I wanted to know everything.

“Can you tell me about your mom? What was she like?” I asked, figuring I'd roll the dice and try. If I accidentally pissed him off, at least I had lived a good life.

Surprisingly, his lips twitched with the faintest hint of a smile. “She was the best mom ever. She was so much fun to be around, and hilarious in her own way. I remember her jumping from one hobby to the next, constantly wanting to try new things and including me in them. She gave these suffocating bear hugs and had this obsession with 80s music, so it was always playing in our house. And she was crazy smart. She was an engineering major while she was here at UT. My mom was the reason I chose to come here,” Cal shared, the pride for his mom mixing with the grief that permeated the air around us.

“She sounds incredible, Cal,” I murmured, smiling at the obvious adoration in his voice as he spoke about her. “What happened when?—”

Cal gave me an inquisitive look when I halted my question, unsure if I should ask what had come to mind. “What happened when what?”

I swallowed around the tightness in my throat. “What happened when she got pregnant with you? You had mentioned it wasn't great circumstances for her, right?” I flushed, feeling intrusive for asking. Cal chewed on his bottom lip, abusing the flesh there and drawing my attention to it. I actively fought to ignore the flutter in my gut and not think about what that lip would taste like.

“She had an affair with a married guy,” Cal forced out on a quick breath, avoiding my eyes.

Woah. That's a flutter killer if ever there was one…

“Oh, uh…that's…” I was at a loss for what to say because, honestly, what could I say to that? Cal saved me from flailing for a response.

“Yeah, it's…not great. I'm not excusing anything she did, but I don't even know much about it,” he said, discomfort evident in his tone. “She only told me about it about a year before she passed because I kept bugging her for information about my dad. I think she only told me because she was dying.”

My heart hurt for him seeing the despondency etched across his face. It was hard for any child to face the fact that their parents were human and could make mistakes, even terrible ones at times. That truth kills a piece of innocence that can never quite be recovered .

“What all did she tell you about it? Did anyone else know about the…uh, circumstances?” I asked.

“Besides the guy, only my grandparents knew. That's why they didn't want her to keep me. They thought I'd derail her life, especially if it ever got out that I was the product of an affair. Mom told them to shove it,” Cal said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “They pretty much ignored my existence after I was born, and my aunt did too. The only one in my family to accept me besides my mom was Uncle Jack.”

“I remember you saying you were close to your uncle. Why…” I paused, chewing on my words carefully before continuing. “Why did things change with them after your mom passed? If that's okay to ask…”

Cal's jaw visibly clenched and he mindlessly stirred his soup as he spoke. “My mom and Aunt Blair had a bad relationship since they were kids. They never really got along, and the only thing my mom would say is that Blair thought their parents favored mom and were too hard on her, so she kind of blamed mom for that. It just got worse as they got older.”

“But why did your aunt take that out on you? You aren't your mom,” I questioned, my brain trying to make sense of all the new information it was taking in.

“I guess being forced to take in her sister's bastard kid wasn't on her list of favorite things. Jack is the one who decided they'd adopt me more or less, so she didn't really have a say. Blair also complained she was ignored by the family when mom got sick. It probably didn't help matters,” Cal said dryly.

“So she started abusing her nephew just because she had issues with your mom?” I was outraged on his behalf, hurting for the boy who was treated like a burden from the minute he was born. “What about your uncle? If you were close with him, why didn't he stop her?”

“Uncle Jack was hardly ever home and traveled for work any chance he got. We stopped being that close. Also Blair didn't start out that way. I mean, she was always a bitch, but I didn't know how bad it could get until I lived with them. It started out small, some yelling and grounding me for every little thing. Then she got steadily worse. She would scream at me that I was worthless, hit me with whatever was nearby but not hard enough to leave a mark, and she…she became creative with her punishments.”

The grilled cheese I had bitten into turned chalky in my mouth and the tomato soup turned to battery acid. I choked it down through the tension in my throat as his words settled heavy on me.

“I was angry all the time. I mouthed off at school, got into fights, started sneaking out just to escape that house. She was different when Uncle Jack was home, hid it from him and acted like she loved me in front of him. I stupidly thought it'd get better eventually, or at the very least she'd get caught. Things got so bad at one point that I caved and told my counselor what was going on, and that day she called CPS.”

“What happened then?” I asked tentatively.

“Nothing,” he replied flatly. “Like I told you that night, Aunt Blair was a well-off, beautiful wife who had taken in a little thug of a kid who couldn't stop getting into trouble. No one believed that she was capable of hurting a child, and she cried and made it seem like I was doing it all to hurt her and push her away. Everyone believed her. CPS, my teachers, Uncle Jack—all of them took her side because all they could see in me was bad behavior, failing grades, and a fucked up temper. They assumed it was the grief over my mom that was causing me to act out and blame Aunt Blair instead of seeing it for what it was.”

I felt queasy hearing more about how much Cal had endured after he lost his mom. It wasn't fair. He had only been a kid, innocent from the day he was born, yet he was hated by those who should have loved him fiercely. Even his uncle had eventually let him down when Cal needed him the most. My body moved against its will, my arms wrapping around his body and squeezing him to my chest.

He tensed beneath me, but I refused to let go. I desperately hoped he wouldn't push me away. Slowly, his arms slid around my back as he held me tightly to him. Cal buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling shaky breaths that vibrated through me. I poured everything I felt for him into our embrace, hoping he could feel how much I cared about him.

“I'm so sorry you weren't believed. What she did to you was unforgivable,” I whispered, burrowing into his shoulder and hugging him as tightly as I was able. I felt Cal release a deep breath before he untangled himself from my arms. He stepped back and gave me a weak smile, those divergent eyes of his glassy with unshed tears.

“Come sit down and watch a movie with me,” I suggested, gesturing over to my couch. Cal nodded mutely and moved to sit with me. I flipped through my downloaded movies, hunting for the one I wanted .

“What got you all upset yesterday at lunch?” I carefully asked as I kept my attention on the TV.

Cal shifted beside me uncomfortably. “It was my uncle. He texted me saying he knew it was mom's birthday and he was thinking of both of us. It was just…salt in the wound, you know?” he replied. I shot him a sympathetic glance before finding what I had been scrolling for.

“Excellent choice,” Cal remarked as the opening scene started.

“ The Princess Bride was my and my dad's favorite movie. He'd always tell my mom “as you wish” whenever she'd ask him for something. She'd act all annoyed and say she hated the movie after watching it a hundred times, but I know she secretly loved it,” I shared with him, the memories hitting me in the most bittersweet way.

“She hated the movie? Inconceivable. No one hates this movie,” Cal scoffed, relaxing into the cushion next to me.

“I know, right? It's practically a crime.”

“Yes, yes, some of the time…”

I shot Cal with an unimpressed look. “Do not start rhyming on me. I mean it!”

“Anybody want a peanut?” Cal mumbled and my lips tugged up at the corners as I fought a smile. Knowing I had a small hand in lightening his mood had warmth seeping into my chest. I could see Cal looking at me from the corner of my eye, but I focused on the movie instead.

We talked through half of the film, making odd comments here and there and discussing the best scenes. We quoted the poison scene back and forth until I broke character, laughing like an unhinged hyena when Cal reenacted Vizzini's death to perfection. I let out a loud snort that finally broke him along with me, both of us collapsing on the couch and gasping for breath.

Once we could breathe normally, I noticed that we had unknowingly leaned into each other, our faces so close together that our breath became mingled between us. Cal's eyes held mine, the air around us shifting into something palpable and charged.

My skin buzzed with that familiar energy I only ever experienced with him, that undeniable pull that was as inexplicable as it was powerful. Cal's breathing became harder and his pupils dilated, kicking up my own pulse in return. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, drawing my gaze to them reflexively. The only clue that he had moved even closer was the heat from his body that was fast becoming unbearable.

My own breathing sawed in and out of my chest, my brain screaming at me that this wasn't the night for any of this. Cal was grieving, hurting. I wanted to be there for him, not maul him with my mouth. But no matter what I told myself, I couldn't break away from those mesmerizing eyes that were fixated on mine.

Slowly, Cal closed the distance between us, but lifted slightly to press his lips firmly to my forehead. The kiss was tender and sweet, antithetical to most of what I knew about Cal, yet it made tears spring to my eyes as my heart pounded. The simple caress had the power to crumble my defenses and ignite my blood.

“Can you hold me?” I heard the words escape me on a whisper, and I prayed I had just imagined it. Humiliation flooded my nervous system and I willed myself to disappear on the spot. Instead, strong arms came around me and pulled me down on the couch until I was reclining my back against Cal's hard chest.

He didn't speak, just held me like I was something precious and fragile. It settled something deep inside me that scared me to acknowledge. Not even being with Connor had felt as right as being in Cal's arms.

“When I was growing up, my mom used to hold me and read to me from this book she kept from when she was a kid. It was this shortened collection of classic stories, like Peter Pan , Alice in Wonderland , the Wizard of Oz , things like that. Even when I got older, she would still read to me every few nights if I asked.”

I stayed quiet, mystified and grateful that Cal was sharing this piece of himself. I soaked up every syllable, almost able to envision Cal as a bright-eyed boy curled up with his mom, safe and cherished in her arms just as I felt in his right then.

“I still have that book. It was one of the only things of my mom's I was able to keep in my aunt's house. After mom died, Blair wouldn't let me talk about her or keep any of her pictures out. She threw away the two framed ones I had on a bookshelf when I pissed her off once. After that, I stuck the two remaining photos I had in the middle of mom's book and hid it in my closet to make sure Blair wouldn't find them. I had to keep that last piece of her safe,” he finished, his grip tightening almost imperceptibly.

“I'm scared that I'll forget what my parents looked like one day,” I whispered, my throat closing up painfully as I shoved down the emotion threatening to choke me. “I barely remember what they sounded like. My dad's laugh, my mom's singing…I don't really remember it. I'm terrified that eventually my memories will fade so much that not even a picture will help me to remember.”

Cal's embrace was a vice, holding me together as I struggled not to fall apart. My eyes burned and I clamped them shut, willing the tears down since I worried if I let them loose, they'd never stop.

“I'm scared too,” Cal rasped. “It's hard to recall what my mom looked like most days and I have to fight to hear her laugh in my head. But there are certain things I can never forget. No matter how much I try to scrub the image from my head, I vividly remember her empty mattress the day after she died. When Uncle Jack brought me back to my house, mom's bed was stripped down but it still smelled like her. I spent four days lying on her mattress, breathing in as much of her smell as I could, knowing it would disappear eventually. I threw the world's greatest tantrum when Uncle Jack said I had to pack and leave our house because…I didn't want to leave that mattress.”

Cal croaked out the last words and I felt his body start to shake behind me, trembling with quiet sobs. I gripped the arms he had locked around my body as we silently broke together, sinking into our painful pasts and fighting to stay grounded.

As our tears dried, exhaustion replaced the grief and I could hardly keep my eyes open. Cal's breathing evened out, his chest rising and falling steadily against my back in a soothing rhythm that had become a metronome for my own heartbeat. Before drifting off past the point of no return, an odd thought occurred to me and I caught myself releasing it.

“What was your mom's name?” I mumbled, sleep blurring my words almost incoherently. Right before darkness took me, I heard Cal's voice from far away.

“Leana. She would have liked you.”