Return to Sender
Caleb Danvers was not that fond of Harvard. It had nothing to do with the classes, which were interesting and all the lectures had odd names like 'A Brief Reminder of the French Romantics' and 'An Examination of Colonialism and the Concept of War (Post Revolutionary)'. It didn't have any relation to his roommates or his room, which was a slightly technologically decrepit quad with no internet access and no television outside of the common rooms. That was part of the common Harvard experience, and in fact he kind of liked the quiet and his roommates seemed interesting if not necessarily cool. They were actually nice guys, though he didn't trust them--especially his roommate Colin, who had an Irish accent that had made Sarah swoon when she'd heard it.
It wasn't the arcane traditions that found him and his classmates hovered over a statue in the early hours of the morning, dodging security guards and resident assistants. It wasn't even the campus itself, which was full of old brick buildings that should have reminded him of Spencer, but that looked too red and too blocky. Truth was that Caleb didn't know what it was, the college just didn't seem to fit him correctly. It had been his goal to get into a good school, but he hadn't made up his mind on what good school until Sarah had come into his life. He was pretty sure that he'd barely made it in, his college essay had faltered in the middle, and he didn't have enough community service--but he'd made it, and he'd been ecstatic until now.
Now all he wanted to do was go home. He missed his mom. He missed his friends. He missed his school. He couldn't go back, and he didn't know where he could go, forward, so all he could do is hold on. Treading water wasn't easy at Harvard. Everyone wanted him to excel, to start something amazing, or think something amazing, or just study something amazing, and while Caleb was smart and an amazingly well-rounded man, he didn't feel exceptional at anything.
He could look at all the people around him and find something that made them stand out, but all he could find in himself was a mishmash of their qualities--Pogue's friendship, Reid's wit, Sarah's brazenness, Tyler's--whatever you would call that quality that made him Tyler--but he didn't have any single defining characteristic. He felt like nothing more than the sum of his parts and like he wasn't sure that the parts were so remarkable.
Caleb did the only thing he knew to do when he was in trouble. He called Pogue. Pogue had found himself at Wesleyan University after spending half his weekends in the spring of their final year on trips to visit campuses. He'd pulled Caleb along to a lot of them, but Caleb had been so dogged on settling in Cambridge that he hadn't really concentrated. Now, Caleb wished he'd paid more attention.
Pogue's voice was distracted and amused, light-hearted, and Caleb wished desperately that he had come here because he needed his best friend. "Yo, this is Pogue."
"Hey, Pogue."
"Caleb, my man! How is it going?" Caleb could hear the smile on Pogue's voice, and while on the surface he felt happy for his friend, it also made him feel terribly far away from him. It was odd how that worked, how emotion itself could make you feel closer or further away even though the physical distance hadn't changed in the least.
His conversation with Pogue was short--he could hear people in the background, waiting for his friend to go out, to party, to enliven them with that calm, logical yet oddly rebellious presence that was purely Pogue.
The last thing Caleb wanted was to waste anyone's time with his silly little issues.
"What exactly is your problem, anyway?" Sarah's voice was harsh, particularly for the early hour. They'd made a habit of meeting for lunch in the mornings--meeting for all their meals, honestly. It wasn't much different than walking between classes or running errands together in Ipswich, but it felt kind of urban and cool. The meals were typically the one part of the day that Caleb was fond of, even though Sarah's tone was becoming more and more common.
"Nothing's wrong." She almost glared at him, giving him a strongly disapproving look, but didn't say anything, choosing instead to wrap her hands around her cup of coffee and take a sip. It was black, no cream and no sugar, which was a massive difference from the Starbucks-loving, cappuccino-drinking Boston Public girl she'd been only months ago. Caleb wondered where she'd picked that up. Caleb picked at his cereal, swirling his spoon through the brightly-colored pieces. "I just don't know if I'm happy."
Sarah raised an eyebrow, looking terribly shocked, as if it had never even occurred to her that anyone could be unhappy here. "Caleb, this is Harvard."
Caleb gave her a sharp look despite his own efforts to stay calm. "I'm perfectly aware of where I am, thank you." He set the spoon down in his bowl and pushed his whole tray away, petulant.
Sarah rolled her eyes, but turned back to him. Her voice was more soothing this time. "I just mean that people would kill to be here--it's one of the most elite colleges in the states. You know what you went through to get here. I'm just surprised that the pride of getting in hasn't carried you through your little bought of homesickness or whatever."
Caleb took a deep breath and looked away. He could feel his face flushing a little red, and truthfully he didn't like what she had said. It was awfully easy for someone who had essentially moved back home to say that the homesickness was superfluous. Caleb was of course ignoring the fact that Sarah had moved away from home in the first place to ensure that she could go here. Mostly because he was mad and he didn't care. But she did kind of have a point that he should be proud of himself. He picked up his orange juice and took a sip, turning back. Sarah smiled and reached a hand over to rest on his. She was just about to say something when a shadow fell over their table.
"Mind if I take a seat?" It was Colin, of course, his Irish lilt in full swing (Caleb swore the man could turn it up and down in intensity, based on his needs). Still, Caleb liked his roommate and he scooted over to make room for him. It was only as he sat that Caleb noticed the contents of Colin's tray. A croissant, an apple, and a cup of black coffee with no cream or sugar on his tray to augment it. It was the exact same thing Sarah had eaten--a fact that Colin noticed almost immediately. "I see you took my suggestion on the continental breakfast, love. Good for you."
Caleb couldn't help the smirk that hit his face. Even as he stopped himself from reacting, just raising an eyebrow at Sarah. She at least had the decency to blush.
This was going to be a fantastic day.
He called Reid that night. Not really because he particularly wanted to talk to Reid, but because he couldn't talk to Sarah or Pogue and he didn't think that he wanted to talk to Tyler who was probably busy anyway, and really, Reid could be kind of good for venting at from time to time. Reid had gone to UCONN. It was his first choice because some girl in Europe had told him that it was the biggest party school on the upper east coast, and he liked that. Reid answered after one ring and sounded like he'd been sleeping though he swore he hadn't. Caleb explained the whole situation, down to how they'd been fighting, all the way through the stupid croissant and how Sarah and Colin had talked about the merits of that breakfast for the whole rest of the day, which made Caleb feel giddy with happiness everytime he'd needed to leave for class.
"Dude, fuck her man. That's like. Puff pastry infidelity, Caleb. Like. Padultery. Pastry and adultery altogether, man. It's so wrong." Caleb opened his mouth though to be honest, he wasn't sure what he wanted to say. It didn't matter much, because Reid kept talking anyway. "Like, and it's so symbolic man. I mean, anything that buttery is just evil, and it's French and the French are like known for being skanky."
Caleb was pretty sure that Reid was just talking shit now, but the fuzziness in his voice suddenly sounded painfully familiar. "Reid, are you fucking high?" Reid giggled, though he didn't give a true response one way or the other. Caleb shook his head--not that Reid could see that. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Reid, are you being careful?"
Reid confirmed that he was and Caleb let him go wit a warning to go easy on the weed. For a moment, Caleb thought about calling Tyler. In the end, he just turned his phone off and went to sleep.
Caleb Danvers kind of knew something was wrong. It wasn't an important sort of uneasy feeling, he didn't have a sense of death or otherwise of impending doom. It was just an inkling, a nagging sensation that things weren't quite as he might have preferred them. It had hit him right before lunch, and it clung to him, persistently making his stomach ache. He picked up his mail at the campus post office and headed back to his quad, begging off on his final lecture for the day. This was Harvard, and he could get away with that once, right? He had to be smart enough to get away with that at least once.
Caleb trudged into the common room of the quad, collapsing on their ancient couch with an undignified huff. The room was quiet, except for little pattering and giggling noises coming from Colin's room. He wasn't entirely certain that he wanted to investigate. The idea, in fact, of that much energy at this point in the day made Caleb's stomach twitch. He let his head drop back on the arm, breathing in. Something started to tickle his senses. That giggling sounded very, very familiar. Painfully familiar, in fact. He got to his feet, heading over to knock on Colin's door when the door popped open and a horribly familiar blond head came bopping out, clad in nothing except knee socks and Colin's four-leaf clover boxers.
Caleb lost his breath, his hand dropping to his side. Sarah, for her part, did an ugly double-take that resulted in her covering her chest and gasping, blushing kind of frantically. "Caleb!" It took her a few moments, as Caleb backed away, crossing his arms and fighting back nausea. "Caleb--I don't even know what to say, I'm so sorry."
Caleb just shook his head, reaching for his mail. He wasn't even so horribly angry, just kind of disappointed and thoroughly disgusted. "It's alright, I didn't think it was working out, either." Colin peered his head out and then, quickly, disappeared back inside his room. Caleb couldn't even bring himself to hate them. Caleb's eyes flashed black and a few seconds later, Sarah only remembered that they'd been dating. It took too much magic for Caleb's taste and he felt very, very old as a result. He bit his lip to try and stop, but he couldn't. His words had left his mouth before he ever even realized what he'd wanted to say. "For the record, I already cheated on you."
It wasn't really true, because kissing was nowhere near the scale of what he could imagine Sarah had done, but the words were vicious anyway, and tasted bitter out of his mouth. He could hear Sarah starting to cry as he left the common room and locked himself into his bedroom. He couldn't quite bring himself to care.
It was an hour later, and Caleb had firmly decided that he hated Harvard. He hated the stupid red brick buildings. He hated his classes, packed full of snobbish, self-important brats. He hated how the campus made him feel, lost and alone, bitter and buried in some sort of colossal mistake that made him feel stupid, utterly stupid. He'd called his mom, who hadn't been able to say much about Sarah but who had told Caleb to come home and whatever the consequences were, they would deal with them.
Running had never been so attractive. He packed his things into his duffel bag, just enough for a visit--they would handle anything longer once he was there. There was a ticket waiting for him at the train station. He secured a kind of awkward ride from Colin--who seemed sheepish around him at best. If Caleb were just a slightly more vindictive person, he would have used it to his advantage.
But he wasn't. He had always been a good guy.
He made short calls to Pogue and Reid, neither of which were picking up their phones. He was just about to give in and call Tyler when he noticed a regular letter stuck in with the junk mail that he normally received at his school box. It was from Ipswich, though there was no return address. He knew who it was from, though. His name was penciled in short, neat block letters, the stamp almost meticulously placed--as if Tyler had debated sending it or not and had finally decided with the visceral act of placing the stamp.
Inside was a letter, written by hand.
Dear Caleb,
I heard from the guys that things have been a little hard on you lately. I hope you're alright. It's been a little hectic around here, and I wanted to apologize if I've missed your call. Coach is gearing us up for the swim season this year and he's been running me a little ragged. I can't blame him too much, I feel like my concentration's shot without you three around.
That said, it's been kind of a great year. I feel like everything I've learned this past year has only made me a stronger person, and I'm enjoying the opportunity to really show my strengths. It sounds stupid to say it to you, but sometimes I feel like I've been lost in the shadow of you three for most of my life and I'm just now, in the face of all this pain, finding myself.
For anything I may have done that hurt you, Caleb--I'm really sorry. And I hope you're not angry with me over it.
Talk to you soon,
Tyler
Caleb folded the letter and tucked it back into the envelope, holding it in his hand, feeling the weight of it. He would be home soon.
Caleb had dropped his things off in his room. His mom had greeted him with a hug which would have felt childish if he hadn't been so desperately in need of comfort. He felt an odd sense of relief when he got in his car. His car, his poor car, which couldn't come to Harvard with him because Freshman weren't allowed vehicles. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it until he sat behind the wheel.
As he drove a sense of calm washed over him. This, for all its issues and all its merits, was home. He pulled into the parking lot at Nicky's, struck with an odd feeling because it looked like he remembered it looking, but it wasn't exactly the same. There was a new coat of varnish on the bar, which made it all look different, and the people there were the same, but some were missing and some were older. He heard a whisper go through the crowd when he entered. That hadn't been unexpected and truthfully, it wasn't something he was unaccustomed to hearing. He spotted Tyler, slouched over the pool table with Aaron. He stiffened, the old hero in him standing to attention before he stopped himself. Something was different. Aaron was laughing. Tyler had made Aaron laugh. Really, it should have just affirmed Caleb's long-standing belief that Reid was the troublemaker in the group, but the sight was still startling.
Caleb stopped in his tracks, but it was at that point that someone, some crony walked over and whispered in Aaron's ear. He looked up, directly at Caleb, and Tyler followed his eyes. The glare from Aaron was easy to ignore in the light of Tyler's beaming smile. Only a minute passed, at most, before Caleb found himself dragging into a handshake and a one-armed hug--Tyler's voice in his ear, happy and eager. "It's so good to see you, man."
It was so good to be home.
It was late, so late that it was beginning to be early, but it was a weekend and Caleb didn't care as much about keeping Tyler out. The lights were dimmed and they were sipping the remains of Pogue's beer stash (which had been dutifully hidden in the floorboards of Caleb's room whenever he could steal some from his dad), which had gone stale with age but still tasted--well, like beer.
Tyler was laughing a lot, and Caleb knew he wasn't that drunk, so it had to be genuine. That was the good thing about Tyler. Caleb always knew he was genuine. The dim, yellowed lights were framing his face and at once Caleb felt terribly out of place and terribly at home. There was a weird excitement to this that he couldn't explain. He reached out to touch Tyler's hand--just lightly, just a little. Something flicked across Tyler's face, but he laughed and shook his head. He dismissed it. A note of bravado chimed in Caleb's stomach and he leaned forward, catching Tyler's lips in a kiss.
For a moment, Tyler was still. Then he responded, eyes sliding closed, his arms wrapping around Caleb, twisting his hand in his shirt holding him close. Then, in a turnaround every bit as fast as the previous one, Tyler pushed back, pulling away from Caleb. There was a reluctant but angry vein to it that didn't fade from Tyler's face when he got to his feet, walking over to a window in Caleb's house, leaning against the sill.
Caleb didn't quite know what to think. "Tyler?"
Tyler spun on his heels, looking thoroughly pissed now. His voice was low and biting. "I'm not some crutch for you to cling to when you're failing. We're supposed to be friends."
"You kissed me, Tyler."
"Yeah, like months ago, when my boyfriend died. It's a little late to react to that and a little fucking convenient that you only cared after Sarah cheated on you." So Tyler was hurt. Caleb couldn't really blame him, though the rejection left him reeling a bit. Tyler turned back to the window, picking at the paint a little. It should have been peeling, but Caleb's mom had had the entire house repainted during a lead paint scare when Caleb was a child. Now there were little paint-peel-like ripples in the rubbery thick top coat, where the paint below should have been scraped up but wasn't.
"Tyler." He turned around again, looking quiet and nervous. Caleb hated that look. Tyler had worn it for years when he and Reid had reeked havoc over the school and Caleb hadn't yet been mature enough to realize that Tyler needed a gentler touch if Caleb wanted to have any sort of friendship with him at all. Though that was the old Tyler and things had changed--Tyler had changed, into a more confident and more individual person. It made the shyness feel even more out of place. "Come back and sit down, okay?"
Tyler did, without complaint. He picked up his beer and finished it, looking more at peace by the time he was done. Caleb followed suit, but the same peace did not come over him. "I think you've had a rough week, Caleb."
Caleb laughed, even though it wasn't really funny. He felt torn because some part of him legitimately liked Tyler and he wanted him. He just didn't know how to make Tyler believe him. The night passed, the two falling asleep on the couch together only after Caleb had promised to keep his hands to himself. That morning, Caleb bought a train ticket back to Boston, only telling his mom that he thought he could handle it now and that he wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't try. Tyler had given him a ride to the station, since he once again had needed to abandon his beloved sports car. He took a deep breath and dove in. "So what do I need to do?"
Tyler pulled into a parking spot, right in front of the entrance. "Well, I think you need to get back to Harvard, make it up to your professors, figure out what's going on with Sarah, and move on with your life. But it's going to depend on you."
Caleb laughed, shaking his head. "No, I know all that. What do I need to do to be with you, Tyler."
Tyler looked surprised, tugging on the long sleeves of his sweatshirt. "Caleb, come on."
"No, seriously. I'm serious. What would I need to do?"
Tyler took a deep breath, still looking forward with his hands resting on the wheel. "Go back to school. Get your life back on track. You're better than this flip-flopping crap, and you're smart enough to be doing better in your classes. Settle things once and for all with Sarah. I don't care how much it hurts to talk to her. Call and talk to Pogue and Reid. They're worried about you--and if you're serious about this, then tell them. I don't want to be your secret."
"And then what?"
"It might be nice if you did something kind of--I don't know. I don't know how to say it. Just something kind of. Nice. If you know what I mean."
"Something what?" Tyler made a blurred kind of noise that Caleb could just barely understand. "Romantic?" Tyler was turning a little red across his cheeks. "You want me to woo you, Tyler?"
Tyler laughed, still blushing--possibly even worse now. "Shut up. Never mind. Don't tell Reid about that."
"So, go back to school, settle my life, and then woo you."
"Isn't your train about to leave?" Tyler was a lovely dark shade of red now, he was still laughing but it sounded a little hitched--almost dramatic from his embarrassment. Poor guy.
"I think I can handle that." Caleb changed the subject. "My train doesn't leave for another hour." Tyler looked grateful for the change in topic, coming inside and sitting with Caleb until he needed to leave. It was a buoyant conversation, full of little surface tidbits that didn't say much about what either of them were thinking. All Caleb was thinking was that he could definitely handle that.
Harvard was going to rock.