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Chapter Forty-Seven: Romantic Spectacular Getaway.

Dedicated to _bestfriendofjordan for the octavia poster above!!! Thank you <3

Chapter Forty-Seven: "Romantic Spectacular Getaway."

C A L E B

"WE'RE TOGETHER."

From where he stood across the room, Sam's eyes almost bug out of that big head of his and I could've laughed.

I should have. But I didn't.

Willing myself to remain impassive even though I had been waiting to tell him this a while, I bit back a laugh at the expression on his face. No, while was an understatement and even I was surprised at myself for waiting to tell him for this long.

I deserved a fucking cake for keeping this in. 

He whipped around to look at me, his eyes wide.

I really deserved a fucking cake.  

Rare cases of my life have ever had him by surprise. Not even the stupid things I've said to him since we were kids.

When I came to his house with a random dog I had found when I was fifteen, he wasn't fazed.

When I had told him I wanted to make a rocket ship out of mentos and a coke bottle when we were thirteen, he went along with it after calling me stupid. There's a tiny scar on his leg from where I accidentally pointed it towards him.

But this?

I shot him a sheepish smile from where I was sitting on his bed. Soccer, laid next to me uninterested by the news, but his owner went from shock to borderline rage. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I wanted to tell you face to face." The smile on my face must have been cocky because he suddenly looked enraged. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, and I took it out as he continued to...react.

"FaceTime exists!" He all but shouted at my face.

So much love.

"Video chat me, you jackass."

More love.

"Snapchat me the news or something, you fucking idiot."

Okay, a little bit of harsh love.

My eyes went wide and I put my hands out as if he was going to tackle me. He wasn't going to but honestly, there was no telling what was going on in his mind. 

"Um," I started, glancing down at my phone with a grin at the message I received. At the knowledge that she was waiting for me to reply to her, it had my entire focus zoom in on wanting to text her back. But I held back, trying not to feel like a teenager while having this conversation. "I used to call you like ten times a day-"

"Try 70 times." He retorted and got a shrug in response.

We were close. A little too close sometimes but he didn't care. Sam Cahill was my brother by no relation since we met all those years ago. We always managed to talk to each other a couple of times a week no matter how busy we got.

It didn't matter where we were. When we were eighteen and I moved to Italy, he moved back to his home country, England for school and we stayed best friends even through the distance. Even now. 

"Anyways, like ten times a day and the one time I don't tell you something-"

"Caleb," Sam walked over to me and I put my hands out even farther and he swatted them away with a scowl. "You tell me everything. Sometimes you'll tell me which socks you're wearing. You tell me your craziest theories ever. Hell, you tell me what you had for breakfast when you have the chance too."