Page 31 of Caden & Theo
“What about a girl?”
I stiffen, just a bit. “What?”
He shrugs. “You know. You’ve been flying solo since like forever. Just wondering if there’s anyone on your radar.”
My throat dries up. He doesn’t mean anything by it. Kurtis is chill. He’s not the kind of guy who makes jokes at someone’s expense. But still. I’ve never said the wordsI’m gayto anyone outside my family and Caden’s. And especially not around here. Not in Gomillion.
I force a half shrug. “Not really.”
He studies me for a second. “You sure? ’Cause you’ve had this whole mysterious thing going on lately. Like you’re always texting someone but pretending you’re not.”
My face heats. “Maybe I’ve just got talented thumbs.”
He laughs, but he doesn’t press. I appreciate that.
He leans back on his hands, eyes on the water. “Sometimes I think I want to go to Atlanta. Just start fresh. Get outta here. I love my family, but this town… it’s too small for my brain.”
I nod. “Yeah. I know what you mean.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and for a second, my heart jumps.
Caden: Night good. u okay?
I smile and type back.
Me: at lake. miss u.
Then I click the screen off and slide the phone away before I get too obvious.
Kurtis is watching me. Not nosy, just curious. “You good?”
“Yeah.”
“You seem… I don’t know. Different, lately.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Maybe I am.”
He nods like he gets it, even if he doesn’t. “Well, whatever it is, I hope it’s good.”
We sit in silence for a bit longer. The fire pops. Someone yells from the water. A truck revs, then cuts off again.
I look around at the couples leaning into each other, at the people stumbling around with red Solo cups, the silhouettes laughing like this is the best night of their lives. And I feel like I’mherebut not really part of it, because the only person I want to be with is a little over three hundred miles away. Probably at some party with sweaty walls and sticky floors, surrounded by people I don’t know—people who don’t know him the way I do.
And maybe it’s dumb, but I still feel him. Like some thread connects us, stretching thin but unbreakable.
“Four weeks,” I murmur to myself. Kurtis doesn’t hear me. He’s distracted by someone trying to freestyle near the fire. I stand up, brushing dirt from my jeans. “I think I’m gonna head out.”
“Already?”
“Yeah. Gotta help Dad out tomorrow with something.”
Kurtis nods. “All right, man. Be good.”
I snort and shake my head. “You too.”
I walk back to Mom’s car, air cool on my face, the lake behind me reflecting nothing I want to hold on to. And as I drive home with the windows down and Caden’s CD in the stereo, I don’t hit Skip when his voice comes through between tracks.
Because, yeah, I may have burned him a CD for his drive, but the asshole went all out and made me one too. It arrived in the mail a few days back. Of course he did. Caden’s ridiculous like that—ridiculously romantic in a way that sneaks up on you. All low-key and casual until suddenly your heart’s on fire and you’re trying not to cry at a stop sign.
