Cobalt Blue Summer

Chapter 14

As we pulled in at the guys’ RV, my eyes were instantly drawn to the sight of Caleb strumming a guitar. Caleb played the guitar? Who knew? But there he was, sitting on the edge of a camping chair, surrounded by a few other guys with their guitars, apparently engrossed in picking out the chords to some song. He never ceased to surprise me.

Before we were even out of the car, Austin jogged over to meet us. “Hey, you made it! Awesome!” He tugged Brit into a quick, unexpected hug, and her wide eyes met mine over his shoulder. I suppressed my chuckle as he made his way to me, but instead of wrapping me in one of his usual hugs, he gave me a playful punch to the upper arm with a, “Hey, you . . .”  Well, that was awkward, I thought. What exactly had Caleb said to him about me? I was definitely going to find out-- one way or the other. “Looks like you ladies are in for a treat tonight --Caleb has agreed to play and sing. You have no idea how rare that is. He hates to perform, you know, play for an audience. He’s pretty good, but he usually only plays behind closed doors when he’s alone. Come on over and join the group.”

The darker side of dusk was falling, and the day’s warmth was giving way to the cooler evening air. The newly started fire in the grate still emitted streams of smoke as the bark around the logs’ edges gradually succumbed to the flames. I noticed several new faces around the fire and wondered who they were. “Grab some drinks from the coolers, and I’ll introduce you around,” Austin offered gesturing to a couple of over-sized red and blue coolers under the camper’s awning. Caleb’s back was to the fire, but I tried to pick out the sound of his guitar as we passed by.

Austin must have been taught the old standby rule of pointing out a topic people have in common when introducing them, and he danced through it like a pro. The last person he introduced me to was Brody, who would be a freshman at CSU in Fort Collins in the fall. As soon as Brody heard that Fort Collins was my hometown, he bombarded me with questions. By the time our conversation started to lag, I glanced around to find myself pinned by Caleb’s gaze. I sent him a rather unsure smile which he acknowledged with a slight nod before he turned away. Everyone had gravitated toward the fire, and Austin broke out the marshmallows. The bag was passed our way, so Brody and I took a couple of sticks off the picnic table, impaled some marshmallows, and made our way to the fire.

My first marshmallow was a royal flop bursting into flames and plunging into the center of the fire. “Here, take mine,” Brody offered, laughing as he held out his golden-brown-toasted-to-perfection marshmallow. “Was that any indication of your general cooking skills?”

“No,” I defended, “and I don’t care for your boring, personality-less marshmallow, thank you very much. I’ll do my own. The last one just barely slipped off.”

“Ha, more like it jumped off screaming in agony,” he teased. “At least let me give you a few pointers.” He finished off his marshmallow in a couple of bites then reached around me to guide my second marshmallow to a precise spot over the flames providing a running dialogue of detailed instructions on the perfect marshmallow roasting technique the entire time. I was laughing so hard by the time my marshmallow was done that it nearly plunged into the fire anyway. I savored my crispy-on-the-outside-warm-and-gooey-on-the-inside marshmallow as Brody toasted another one for himself. While he was waiting on his second one to cool, he looked over at me with a grin and reached out to trace his thumb along my chin. “Here, you’ve got some on your face. You’re a disaster with marshmallows, aren’t you? Maybe you should try another sport.”

Before I could make my witty comeback, something drew my eyes across the fire. Caleb stood, staring at us with a completely blank expression, his face devoid of all emotion. I felt as though someone had punched me in the stomach. He looked so empty it hurt. I had to go to him.