Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter. You are so kind with what you say and I really appreciate you taking the time to leave a review.
I feel like the last chapter was one of my weakest, so I hope this one is better. Please let me know what you think.
Enjoy
Chapter 12
Cal toyed with the can of beer in front of him. His fingers teased the ring pull but something kept him from opening it. He'd already had two cans and, while that was a relatively small amount for him, he wasn't sure if he wanted anymore. His head felt heavy with thoughts and suddenly the prospect of an early night became very appealing.
He kept his head low but lifted his eyes to watch the others around his kitchen table. It was Gus's birthday and his flatmate had invited many friends over before they headed into town. The group included three very pretty and giggly girls who kept looking over at him and smiling. They were just his type and Cal knew that if he stopped staring moodily at the table they'd come and talk to him. He reckoned he could pull at least one if he made the effort.
He could hear some of the guys talking animatedly about the carnage from Gus's last birthday. Cal remembered the night well – or at least the hangover that followed – and would usually laugh along with them, enjoying the company. Yet it came as another reminder of what he would be leaving behind if he had to move to another University.
Ethan said their dad had no intention of visiting him but that didn't mean he wouldn't interfere in other ways. Although he had tried everything he could to forget, Cal couldn't help but remember that the source of the argument on the night he'd left home had been the alleged bad influence he was having on his brother. It made no sense that their dad would rest knowing the pair of them were in a close vicinity, even if Ethan had lied that he would stay away.
"Drink up, Knight!" a voice said.
Cal recognised the accent without having to look up. "I'm not feeling great," he muttered.
"I don't care," Gus continued. "It's my birthday, you're getting plastered." He grabbed a bottle of vodka from the middle of the table, poured a generous quantity into a glass and then slid it over to Cal.
Cal forced a chuckle. "You've got to be kidding me."
As a response Gus smiled smugly and free-poured more of the spirit into the glass. "Prove you're a man."
Cal's laugh was genuine this time. He pulled the glass closer to him and wrinkled his nose as he got a whiff of it. He could see the pretty girls watching him even more intently now to see if he could manage the extra-large shot and he wasn't one to let them down. He picked up the glass but glared at Gus. "Just so you know, I'll be getting my revenge later," he said. He downed the liquid in two consecutive gulps and slammed the glass back on the table. His throat burned but he didn't splutter.
By the time they reached the bar, Cal had given up on any ideas of an early night. Although he hadn't wanted the shot, it had been enough to remind him why he enjoyed drinking. The effects of alcohol were already numbing his overactive thought stream and it was becoming easier to imagine he might have a good night. He ordered a pint for himself and a shot for Gus and waited impatiently while the barmaid puzzled over the till. When he felt a hand on his hip, he hoped it was one of the pretty girls from his flat – preferably the blonde, if he was being picky. He turned round with a smile but it quickly faded when he realised it was Tasha. It took a large proportion of his will-power not to knock away her arm.
"Hey," she said. "Turns out I was right."
"About what?"
"About Ethan and Erin," she replied, as if it was obvious. "They're together. We caught them all over each other so they couldn't exactly deny it."
"Really?" Although he was desperate to get away from her so that the pretty girls didn't get the wrong idea, he couldn't help but show an interest in his little brother's love life. "Like, together together?"
"See for yourself." Tasha nodded to a spot behind him.
Cal spun around to see his brother with a group of people he recognised as his flatmates. Ethan had his back to him but Cal could see that he had an arm around Erin and that she was idly running her fingers through his hair. His shock at Ethan's relationship doubled when he realised they were in such close proximity that his brother could turn round at any second and witness Tasha's hand on him. He stepped away from her. "I can't believe my little brother's got a girlfriend," he said, more to himself than to Tasha.
She cosied back up to him and looped her fingers through one of her belt buckles. "But now that he has," she said, "there's no reason why we need to be a secret any more, is there?"
Cal frowned. He distantly recalled telling Tasha that Ethan fancied her but he hadn't expected the lie to backfire. "What do you mean?" he asked, stalling.
Her fingertips curled under the top of his jeans. "We could even double date."
"I don't think so!"
"Oh." She quickly disguised a look of offence with a smile. "That's okay. I suppose it might be a bit awkward for you."
Cal sighed. Now that he had to be honest, he just hoped there wasn't hysterics. It wasn't really fair on him if he had to deal with a crying girl, especially when he'd always been careful not to say anything that might imply a relationship. "It's not that, Tasha." He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and gently moved her hand from his hip. When he let go, her arm fell limply back by her side.
Her eyes widened as she took the hint. "Please don't do this," she said. "I- I really like you."
Cal ran a hand over his head in exasperation. It was always harder when they begged. "We had fun. And I'm sorry. But I'm just not looking for a relationship right now."
"Me neither," Tasha replied, a waver in her voice. "We can just keep it casual."
"That's not what you want." His leg twitched uncomfortably. He knew he should do the right thing and convince her that she'd be better off without him. But the words were uncomfortably similar to what his dad would say about him and Ethan and he couldn't bring himself to voice them and make it true. "Look," he said instead, "the truth is, I just don't like you as much as you like me."
"That could change."
"It won't," he said firmly.
Tasha's bottom lip wobbled. "How do you know?"
"Because," Cal said, "I only slept with you so that I could keep tabs on Ethan."
He waited for the tears to erupt and wondered whether he'd be expected to comfort her or whether she'd run to her flatmates and allow him to enjoy the rest of his night. He really hoped for the latter. As expected, Tasha's eyes grew damp. Cal opened his mouth to utter another faked apology but before he could speak, wet, cold liquid hit him in the face.
As his lips had been parted the drink splashed him in the mouth. From the flavour of beer, he assumed that it was his own that she'd thrown at him. His eyes stung from where the alcohol had assaulted them. He wiped the back of his hand across his face and opened his eyes to see that the bar was blurred and Tasha had gone. The sticky liquid dripped off his chin and down the inside of his shirt. He could hear someone sniggering but his vision was still to blurry to see who.
He swore and stamped his foot and marched to the toilets, grateful that he was so familiar with the bar that he knew the way even when he could barely see. He splashed cold water on his face but it did little except soak him further. He wished she'd slapped him instead; it would have had less of an impact on the rest of his night.
The door of the toilets opened and Cal was far from surprised to see his brother with his arms folded awkwardly across his chest.
"Why did Tasha throw her drink over you?" he demanded.
"How should I know?" Cal muttered. "She's insane."
Ethan tutted and came further into the toilets so that the door closed and it was just the two of them. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of beer. "Caleb, has something happened between the two of you?"
"Nothing significant."
"So that's a yes, then," Ethan said. "And there's no point lying because Tasha's telling Erin everything."
"Ah, yes," Cal said. "Your girlfriend."
Ethan blushed but he didn't take the bait. "If you don't tell me, I'll only assume the worst."
Cal undid the top few buttons of his shirt and attempted to wring it out. The shirt creased but remained just as wet. "Fine. I slept with her," he said.
"How many times?"
"Nibbles, you sound like a girlfriend that I just cheated on. What does it matter to you?"
"She's my friend," Ethan said. "How many times?"
"I didn't count."
"Brilliant."
"I don't see what the problem is," Cal said. "It was going nowhere. It was kinder to end things than to string her along."
"You already strung her along."
"But what am I meant to do now?" Cal continued, ignoring his brother's interjection. "I'm soaked. I can hardly stay like this the rest of the night."
Ethan shook his head. "Unbelievable. You've just upset my friend and all you're concerned about is yourself."
"That's not fair," Cal said. He hadn't even mentioned the three pretty girls that he'd lost any chance with. "Ethan, I didn't want to upset her. Of course I didn't. But these things happen."
"These things happen!"
"Girls get overly attached. I don't encourage it. If anything it's unfair on me to be put in the position where I have to let them down."
Ethan huffed so hard his glasses slipped down his nose. He pushed them back with a shaky hand. "Caleb," he said. "You really need to learn to consider other people's feelings."
"Oh, spare me the lecture, Ethan." He looked away from his brother, in favour of examining himself in the mirror. Although he was beginning to dry, the remains of the beer had left his skin sticky and his eyes red. "There's worse in the world than what I did." He squared his jaw and caught Ethan's eye in the reflection. "Or has Dad brainwashed you completely?"
Ethan clenched and unclenched his fists. "You know what?" he said, "It would be easier if he had. It would be easier if I didn't have to keep fighting a battle between my dad and my brother. Especially when you make it so easy to be angry at you."
"So you're angry at me now?" Cal asked. He turned around to face his brother. "Well there's a surprise. It seems to be the day for people to be mad at me."
"You've got to stop hiding behind the things dad said!" Ethan exhaled as if the rush of words had stolen his breath.
"What?"
Ethan held a warning hand up in front of Cal. "He held some views about you that were… unjust," Ethan said. "That must have been hurtful and you have every right to refute them." He paused. "But that doesn't give you automatic exemption from any other criticism."
"I never said it did."
"So when was the last time you admitted to being in the wrong?"
Cal opened his mouth to answer but couldn't summon a quick response. His gaze flickered to every corner of the toilets before landing back on Ethan. "I hate it when you're right," he muttered.
Ethan gave a guilty smile. He pulled a generous quantity of blue paper towels from the holder and stacked the majority up on the sink. He held one towel under the tap for a few seconds and then turned back to Cal. "Stay still," he said.
Cal stood patiently while his little brother dabbed at his face with the wet paper towel. Ethan had to scrub quite hard now that the beer had dried and the texture was coarse against his stubble. After a few minutes and an excessive amount of paper towels, his skin was beginning to feel a bit more normal. He inspected himself in the mirror and was relieved to see he no longer looked quite so ridiculous. "Thanks, bro."
"So what are you doing now?"
"Going home," Cal said, sheepishly. "And having a shower."
Ethan's lip twitched.
"Are you laughing at me?"
"Never!" Ethan said despite the beam on his face. "I'm trying desperately hard to ignore the flashbacks of you dripping with beer."
Cal scowled. "It's not funny, Nibbles."
Ethan burst out laughing. "Trust me, it is."
Cal turned the water as hot as he could bare it and stood directly underneath the showerhead so that the water cascaded down his front and back in equal measures. The sound of water hitting the side of the bath drowned out his thoughts and came as as much of a welcome as finally feeling clean.
He showered for longer than he'd willingly to admit to, knowing at least one of his housemates would comment on the cost of bills. After he eventually managed to get out he wrapped a towel around his hips and wandered downstairs into the kitchen in search of a drink. Although he hadn't wanted the beer earlier, he was grateful that the can remained on the kitchen table. He took a long swig but kept the can in his hand, planning to drink the rest in his room.
Something made him pause at the bottom of the staircase to inspect the discarded pile of post that lay at the bottom of the stairs. Many of the letters were junk mail or vouchers for takeaway pizza, but one envelope was for him. He didn't need to recognise the handwriting for him to identify the sender, for the name that was scrawled across the top of the envelope gave it away. The letter wasn't addressed to Caleb Knight. It was addressed to Caleb Hardy.
