Free Caleb + Kate by Cindy Martinusen Coloma Page A

surprise—and Finn with pleasure— at my grimace of horror, until I laugh. Finn swears under his breath, then points toward Caleb. “You better not go down that path, cousin. There’ll be hell to pay.”
    He turns around abruptly and heads up the trail. “I’ll see you around. We’ll discuss the jeep later.” He disappears into the dark. Caleb doesn’t call out to stop him.
    â€œWhat was that?”
    â€œMy cousin doesn’t like socialites.” He shrugs and then runs his fingers through his wet hair.
    â€œIs that what I am?”
    â€œYou know it is.”
    â€œBut that’s not all of it.”
    Caleb stares at me a moment, then looks out toward the now-deserted beach. The night has swallowed the sunset, and I become aware of the sound of waves against the rocks. The band plays again, and I realize that in the Katherine confusion, they had stopped for a time.
    â€œWe should find your shoes,” he says, moving around me on the trail.
    â€œShouldn’t you change?” His soaked jeans have dripped all over the ground around Caleb’s bare feet. “Do you want me to drive you home? I can’t imagine riding a motorcycle when you’re soaked.” I’ve just revealed that I know he rides a motorcycle. He catches it too.
    â€œI can change at the maintenance building.”
    â€œWhere are your shoes?” I ask.
    He looks down. “Still on the beach. I’ll run up and change, meet you back on the beach in ten minutes? You find our shoes.”
    I nod, but I want to say, Don’t g o. I wonder if he’ll really come back, and I want to see him longer.
    â€œHave you ever been to the maintenance building?”
    I shake my head.
    â€œThen come on. We’ll come back for the shoes; they won’t help much on the walk anyway. Think of me as your hotel escort. But don’t tell my boss I brought a girl here in the middle of the night.”
    I smile at that. “I promise I won’t.”
    Caleb reaches out his hand and helps guide me up.
    â€œLet me know if your feet start hurting.”
    I wonder what he’d do if I did admit that every pebble makes me wince—carry me the rest of the way? It’s a tempting thought.
    We are alone on the dark trail, making our way along a path I don’t know well but that Caleb walks without any hesitancy. A breeze billows my dress up, and I again bunch the skirt into one hand, while holding tightly to Caleb’s arm. The muscles are surprisingly defined for a guy in high school, though maybe I think that because I’m familiar with mostly rich, pampered boys.
    We’d be quite the sight if anyone could see us—both barefoot, me with my silver dress hiked up to my thighs, him shirtless with jeans dripping water like a trail of bread crumbs for us to follow back to the beach.
    Caleb veers off the trail and up to a wooden fence. “This could be tricky. I hope that dress isn’t expensive.” He says this in a voice that knows it certainly is expensive.
    I’m on an adventure in a five thousand–dollar dress—which was a deal, Mom and I thought.
    â€œWhat prom would be complete without some excitement?” I say, and realize I need to climb that fence. Halfway over, I get tangled up and Caleb stumbles backward. We fall together into the grass, with me landing on top of him, my dress covering half of him. I push away—off his bare chest—and we laugh hysterically side-by-side in the grass.
    â€œStupid dress,” I say.
    â€œStupid pants,” he says. “They’re so stiff I can hardly move in them.”
    We’ve reached the edge of the golf course. I see the outline of the maintenance building ahead.
    My feet are cold on the moist grass. Mom is going to die when she sees what I’ve done to this dress. It probably has grass stains and dirt all over it.
    â€œCaleb, why don’t our families like each other?”