Week 3
Chapter One
Caleb
What the fuck?” Chantel yelled over the pounding bass.
My cousin had been in a bad mood all night—longer, if I was being honest—but whatever had caught her attention across the room took it to a whole new level.
Someone had pumped the volume about an hour ago, turning the house party into something closer to a rave. Pretty standard for one of Zane’s gatherings. They were always a combination of locals, tourists, cheap beer, and a kitchen floor that was sticky by midnight.
The look on Chantel’s face had nothing to do with the scene, though. Something was going on with her, and it was bigger than the stress of her recent move to Copper Ridge. But I was only home for the night, so I probably wouldn’t get the chance to figure it out.
“What’s wrong?”
Her scowl deepened. “Just give me a minute. I’ve got to take care of something.” Then she was gone, disappearing through the crowd like her ass was on fire.
I leaned back against the wall, sipped my warm beer, and watched a girl in a sequined top try to teach her friend a new dance move.
They were terrible at it. They were also having the time of their lives. And something about that dichotomy pulled at the already restless ache in my bones.
Usually, parties were my thing. I loved the noise, the energy, the way a crowd could swallow me whole and spit me back out lighter and happier on the other side. I’d been dropping in on my cousin Zane’s, invited or not, since before I was old enough to drink. Show up, plug in, let the room do the rest.
Except tonight the plug wasn’t catching.
Maybe the vibe was off. Or maybe it was just me and the dread trying to pool in my gut every time I thought about going back to Toronto tomorrow.
A year ago, university in the city was everything I wanted. The freedom, the anonymity, a limitless life beyond this overbearing small town. A future I could control.
It hadn’t taken long for crowded sidewalks, lecture halls, and roommates who were strangers to prove my theory was garbage. Anonymity wasn’t freedom, it was indifference and disconnection.
Loneliness and fucking boredom.
But even now, standing in my cousin’s living room, absorbing the chaos of a party in full swing, I still felt empty.
Zane materialized out of the crowd with two fresh beers, handing me one without asking if I wanted it. “Happy birthday, kid. Try to look like you’re enjoying it.”
“I am.” I forced my usual grin. “I’m just tired.”
“Tired?” He said the word like it personally offended him. “You’re twenty-one. You’re not allowed to be tired.”
“School’s been kicking my ass.” It wasn’t. Even with an advanced course load and working through the summer semester, school was the easy part. But it sounded better than the truth.
“So drop out.”
My mouth opened, but I had no words. Drop out? He couldn’t be serious. And I couldn’t actually be considering it.
Could I?
He clinked his bottle against mine before I could recover. “Relax, I’m kidding. Sort of. Just try not to look like someone died, okay? You’re scaring my guests.”
He slapped my shoulder, then disappeared back into the kitchen, where I could already hear him pivoting into another conversation, his laugh cutting through the music like it always did.
I settled back against the wall and tried to take his advice. Look like I was enjoying myself. Drink the beer. Watch the crowd. Find someone to flirt with for an hour and remember that every minute of life was precious.
Try not to let his words circle my mind too many times.
Chantel reappeared, looking worse than when she’d left. “Caleb. I need you to do me a little favor.”