Finding Lena | ✔️

Chapter Seven

Caleb's car is an expensive-looking one, a white BMW that has been cleaned to perfection. It's easily the most expensive car in the lot, and I wonder how I'd missed it before.

"Nice car," I compliment, eyeing the coat of sheer white, and then moving my eyes to him.

"It's Michael's car," he explains while climbing gracefully into the driver's seat.

As I slide into shotgun, I wonder aloud, "Michael?"

He stares at me, as if he hadn't realised he'd even said the name. I wait expectantly, before he gruffly mutters, "My dad."

While he twists the key in the ignition, and the car starts to roll out of the lot, I ask curiously, "You call your dad by his name?"

He nods his head half an inch, but doesn't say any more.

"What's you address?" he questions, changing the subject.

Once I give my house address to him, he speeds down the highway, weaving past other cars.

"So, lone wolf, what's your family like?" he asks to break the silence.

"My mom moved to Washington a few years back, so my brother, Jace, is my legal guardian. But he goes to college so isn't around much," I explain.

He seems genuinely fascinated by what I'm saying, as if I'm telling him something interesting and not my life story.

"Interesting," he remarks. "What about your dad?"

I remain quiet for a second, but when I see those curious green eyes, I respond honestly, "He died when I was ten."

There is a moment of complete silence, just the sound of the tires skidding down the road, splashing through occasional puddles.

"I'm sorry," he says.

"Why? You don't need to be sorry," I respond, watching his side-profile. I only now notice just how sharp his jawline is, like it was sculpted by hand.

"That's what you're supposed to say when somebody tells you something sad." His voice is soft, like tides lapping against each other at the beach.

"Loner, remember?" I remind, pointing at myself. "I don't think I would know."

"Tell me about that," he says, steering us away from the recent topic of conversation while shifting in his seat.

"About why I'm a loner?"

"I prefer the term 'lone wolf', but yes, I'm intrigued," he answers, smiling innocently.

I fumble for the right words, but I don't want him to pity me. But I also don't want him to think any different of me. "Something changed when my dad died, and then when my mom left and Jace went off to college. I was...alone. I was by myself at home, it started to become that way at school too."

He shoots me a look, and so I continue slowly, honestly. "Also, when I was in my freshman year, I was best friends with Phoebe."

He snaps his head to look at me, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. "No way."

"Yes way," I reply, scratching the back of my neck. I go on, "But something happened to her, and she started making fun of me in lessons. Saying all these things about how much of a nerd I was. It didn't mean much, until she ditched me for the 'in' crowd. She started tripping me up in the corridors, spreading gross rumours about me. Eventually, no one wanted to be my friend because of it. Not that I could blame them, what she made up about me was disgusting."

He doesn't say anything, just remains with a calculating expression, considering what I said. I continue, "After that whole thing with Phoebe, I stopped talking to people altogether. With my mom gone, and my best friend becoming the person she became, it felt like I could no longer trust anybody. And I think that's when I just stopped speaking."

"So you didn't used to be quiet?" he asks, slowing when he nears my house, and then kills the engine. It is made of oak wood panels and holds many wide windows, and a large front door under a porch.

I smile a small smile to myself. "No, I used to be fun, chatty, happy. I used to laugh all the time. I just don't think I had a good enough reason to laugh after what happened."

I turn to him, and he's staring at me with an odd look, like he's trying to figure me out somehow.

"It's stupid, I know," I say after he remains silent.

"No, it's not stupid at all."

I eye him for a second, trying to find out what I can about him. He's hiding a lot, that's for sure.

"Why'd you think that?" I ask, voice faltering.

"Because Phoebe might've have stopped you from trusting people, but I promise you can trust me."

I grin slightly, folding my arms across my chest nervously. "I barely know you, it's risky making promises you don't know you can keep."

"Maybe, but I'm going to figure you out, no matter what it takes. There's something interesting about you," he replies, angling his body towards me.

"I don't think I'm the only one that needs figuring out, new boy." I turn away. "Thanks for the ride." I begin to open the door, when I turn around to look at him again.

Just before I slip out into the cold, I say through a smile, "I'll see you later, Caleb."

And then I rush to the my front door, not turning back to watch his car drive down the road.

---

I sit in the dark for what must be hours. There is no possible way I can find sleep, like I'm wandering through an endless forest, not knowing where to go to escape.

It's not like I want to be thinking about him. I want to sleep, alone with my thoughts, but his face keeps jumping into my mind, warning the sleep away.

Why is he being nice to me? People like Caleb don't want anything to do with people like me. That's just how it goes, so why is he different?

You're interesting.

That's what he had said. But that's ridiculous. I'm not interesting. There are tons of cool people at school, the ones that are gonna make it to Broadway, or be the first person to walk on Mars.

I'm just me. Plain and simple.

So what is it that's making him stay?

I eventually get to sleep, but the image of Caleb doesn't disappear to let this happen. Instead, it is the very thing that helps me fall into my deep, dark subconscious.