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Back The Infinite Noise Save as PDF
Chapters (70)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  69. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  70. Newsletter Sign-up

“Caleb, are you okay?” I ask earnestly, partly to get the focus off of me but partly because he is looking increasingly not okay.

“Yeah, no—I’m fine.” His hands come around to cradle the back of his neck as he looks up at the sky, inhaling deeply. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be so weird all the time.”

“I don’t think you’re weird,” I say, mostly truthfully.

He scoffs.

“Trust me, you would,” he says grimly.

“What?”

“Do you want to come over on Friday?” He tilts his head down from staring at the sky and I’m taken aback by the question and the sudden eye contact.

“What?”

I say “what” approximately three hundred percent more in conversations with Caleb than with anyone else. It is deeply confusing.

“We’ve got that stupid Sadie Hawkins thing on Saturday and I still have no idea what suit to wear so do you want to maybe come over and help me pick one out?” There are those goddamn puppy eyes again.

“Why on earth do you think I’d be good at that?” I ask, gesturing down at my oh-so-fashionable jean jacket/black T-shirt/black jeans combo.

“I don’t know, because you’re—” He stops himself again, and this time his face gets even redder. Oh. So the elephant in the room has finally been acknowledged. Sort of. And apparently this elephant comes with stereotypes.

“I don’t know, dude.” He breezes past the awkward moment with a roll of his eyes before I have a chance to reply. “I just need a second opinion from someone who’s not over the age of forty and not my kid sister. Doesn’t really matter if you know anything about clothes or not. Then, I don’t know, we could watch a movie or play Xbox or something.”

“Yeah, okay.” My mouth is continuing to say words before my brain has a chance to think. I don’t know if Caleb is asking to distract from the earlier weirdness or because he genuinely wants to hang out, but I’m not going to pass up an opportunity to see if his family are all as freakishly perceptive as he is. Plus, I can’t remember the last time I went over to a friend’s house.

Friends. I guess that’s what we are now. The warm feeling I get in my stomach from that thought almost distracts me from the genuine smile that takes over Caleb’s face as he nods and says, “Cool. Cool, cool.” For the first time all week, I don’t feel sad and jittery, and there’s something in Caleb’s eyes that tells me that, somehow, he knows.

23

CALEB