“Listen, I get it. But trust me: fighting is not always the best solution.” He deflates and it looks like I’ve ruined something good by opening my damn mouth. Again.

“Wow, look at you, oh wise one,” I say dryly, trying to pull the conversation back up to where it was before I got all defensive and weird. “Did you read that on a fortune cookie?”

He looks back up at me, his mouth quirking on one side.

“Even better—personal experience,” he says sarcastically. The smile doesn’t reach his eyes and I know I haven’t quite fully repaired whatever it is I broke.

“Oh, right.” I nod, trying to pretend like I haven’t been thinking about what would drive Caleb to punch someone for months. “Is that what you meant by being ‘the king of two wrongs’?”

“Yeah, a little.” He shrugs. “I mean, that fight definitely wasn’t worth all the crap that it led to.”

New questions crowd out the dozens that are already filling my head. Did Caleb really get in trouble for that? I think he had to do some school service or something, but maybe his parents were really strict? There’s definitely more to that story and I’m itching to ask. But I think we’re maybe back on some sort of normal footing in this conversation and I don’t want to throw that off.

“But mostly I meant…” He trails off, bending his head down to his food and glancing up at me nervously. At least, I think he’s nervous—he’s got the same frightened-animal look that he had in the library.

“I meant, with you. Last week,” he mutters, not looking at me.

“What, with Bryce?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you mean? Like you said, he’d probably have beaten my face in. You stopped him,” I say, my heart beating fast as my brain relives that moment for the thousandth time since it happened.

“Yeah, but I was kind of a dick about it,” he says, finally making eye contact with me again. “And I’m sorry about that.”

Huh. I didn’t see that coming.

“Don’t be,” I say. Now it’s my turn to avoid eye contact. If he feels bad about last week then that must mean he could tell I was freaked out, and that’s really not a conversation I want to get into.

“No, I am,” he insists, and I feel his eyes boring a hole in the top of my head. “I’m sorry I said all that stuff. It isn’t any of my business.”

“Why did you say it?” I blurt out. Okay, I guess this is a conversation I want to have.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, and I’m not sure I believe him. I don’t think Caleb is a very good liar. But he is hiding something.