Page 208 of We Can't Be Friends

“I told you I was staying.” He kisses my temple again.

I’m koala carried back to the living room. Cal sits down on the couch, my body still curled into his.

“That’s my cue. I’m out.” Emerson stands. “It wasn’t too long ago that someone special in my life told me thatyou don’t have to let what hurt you become you. It took a few years to understand what they meant, but I got it. We’re alike, you know? The kids growing up feeling like they’ll never be enough. Never amount to anything that would make someone proud,” she says to Cal. “Or for someone to love. But how lucky are we to have found those people who never once questioned their love for us? People who have chosen and love us for exactly who we are and expect nothing less.”

“Thanks, States.”

“I love you both. See you in a few days, Chloe. Our sleepover isn’t changing.” I nod as she closes the door behind her.

Cal taps my shoulder and I shift, pulling away enough to see him. He kisses me before leaning back.

“I’m happy you’re home.”

“Me too.”

“Did you talk to your dad?”

“Her name was Holland and she’s beautiful.” Cal tells me everything. The affair Tripp had and the photos he gave him.

It was the most he’s ever talked. I listened, letting him share, watching him let me in. Every closed door to his heart is open. Wide open. And I couldn’t love this Cal any less.

The messy. The broken. The imperfect. The lonely.

If anything I love him more because he’s this way.

We’re human, we weren’t designed to be perfect. We are flawed, we make mistakes. We see red flags and still date them. We blame ourselves for things completely out of our control. We fall to society norms and pressure because if we don’t we are cast aside.

Cal isn’t immune to being human and I hope he sees that now. That no matter what, I see him and love him.

“Did you talk to Sienna after you saw your dad?”

“We did. She apologized and meant it. Sure, I need to see actions and words going forward, but I’m choosing to believe her. I’m choosing to let it all go. I can’t keep performing, I’m exhausted. It’s not up to me to make her love me. I can’t make anyone love me—you can’t force it.”

“I’m proud of you, Pretty Boy.”

“Me too.”

“Show me the photos? Tell me about your birth m—” I stop.

“You can call her my mom. She was—is.” Carrying me to his bag to pull them out. Cal won’t let go of me and I’m not letting go either.

***

We made pancakes. Cal finally admitted he didn’t like bananas and was eating them because they were my favorite.

For someone who sought out love, wanted it displayed in a trophy shelf, he knows how to love silently. He’s loved me in so many small ways itoverwhelms me.

“I missed you.” Wiping a chocolate coated finger along his nose, I catch him up on the past two weeks. “But I behaved. Didn’t watch a single episode without you.”

Cal scratches the back of his neck.

“What?”

“I may have watched three seasons without you.” I glower at him. “You said you didn’t like those seasons,” he says around another bite of food.

“We are never watching a show together again.” I point my fork at him before pushing my empty plate aside. I climb into his lap. “Oh, I think I’m going to quit my job.”

“What?”

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