The Flames that Engulfed Us

Chapter 42: Flashback Time

I knocked on Caleb's door. I had borrowed my dad's car (without his knowledge) to drive over. I didn't approve of the way he'd turned his house into a huge mess via a house party, but I felt bad that his mother had come home early and ruined it all for him.
               
The woman opened the door, still looking furious, making my skin crawl with guilt. But then her face softened.
               
"Skylar. You have no idea how nice it is to see another sane woman. I mean, I appreciate my son's friends all coming over to help clean up, but all these boys are driving me crazy. Come in. I think there's probably some food that hasn't been eaten. Oh, there isn't. Because my son let people into the house to eat all of it."
               
I looked at the woman, and I was glad I'd come over.
               
"I just wanted to help clean up and make sure there hadn't been any murder."
               
"No. There would have been if I loved my son even slightly less."
               
I walked into the house and gasped. It was trashed. Garbage was everywhere. Furniture was permanently stained. Glass shards even littered the floor.
               
"Caleb, get your sorry a—butt over here to say hello to Skylar. AKA the friend I actually approve of."
               
Caleb came through the door, looking downtrodden and remorseful. His mother could make a rock ready to apologize for being hard.
               
"Mama, you can swear in front of Skylar."
               
"I don't like to swear in front of guests. Now, tell her thanks for coming over here to clean up your mess."
               
"Thanks."
               
His mother just grunted and walked away, leaving me and him alone. Caleb immediately straightened, his natural swagger coming back. He tossed a roll of paper towels to me.
               
"Let's get going."
               
Lincoln came out where I was and smiled. I felt myself finally understanding why all my friends used to swoon over that smile. He caught me looking and stopped. That's not what I wanted, but I just cleared my throat.
               
"You're on cleaning duty too?"
              
"Yeah. It was a killer party. I guess it's not so much fun now."
               
"No," I chuckled, and he bent down and very carefully started to pick up the glass shards. I held a trash can out for him and he dumped it in, never getting a cut.
               
"You should wear gloves for that."
               
"I've dealt with broken bottles before. I'll be fine."
               
"Ok," I said, his eyes briefly meeting mine. I hated him. I thought girls were stupid when they said he looked cute. Why did my face feel so hot? If I was blushing, I didn't know what I'd do.
               
I turned to the cushions, furiously rubbing them to get the liquid out, but it stayed. I would hate to be Caleb.
               
"You went to the party?"
               
"Unfortunately."
               
"I thought you said it was fun."
               
"It was, but I think I'm never going to be allowed in this house again."
               
"I like Caleb's mom. She's nice to talk to."
               
"I suppose if she likes you. And she does like you, but who can blame her for that?"
               
Oh, I was blushing. He was a friend. I didn't like him. Except for how I did. And how I was already planning what our kids would look like. I was a mess, and Lincoln wasn't making it better.
               
"At least someone likes me."
               
"Lots of people like you."
               
"Like who?"
               
Lincoln didn't answer for a few seconds, so I looked at him. He seemed uncomfortable which was odd for him.
               
"Like Caleb and all the other guys. Me. I like you."
               
"You're either a good liar or have bad taste."
               
"I've been told I'm both, but I'm serious. You're cool and smart. What's not to like?"
               
I put the cleaning supplies down. "Seriously?"
               
"Well, yeah."
               
I wanted to say something else, but my phone rang. My dad.
               
"Oh, crap." I moaned.
               
"What?"
               
"Crap. Crap. Crap."
               
"Skylar?"
               
"My dad's calling and I took his car and he's going to be mad."
               
"Good luck with that."
               
I answered the phone, holding it to my hear.
               
"Hello?"
               
"Skylar," the other end crackled, "if you took my car without permission—"
               
"I'll bring it back in an hour. I promise."
               
"Where are you even?"
              
"Caleb's house..."
               
"Skylar. Come home safe."
               
"That's it?"
               
"And you're grounded."
               
"Figures."
               
"Love you. Bye."
               
"Bye."
               
Lincoln didn't say anything else to me, and we had the room clean by the time I said goodbye to everyone and left, making sure to drive slowly to avoid getting home. I hated driving to be honest, but it was better than walking.
               
My dad made me sit through a speech about how I was a good kid, but he was worried about me and he needed his car. Blah, blah, blah. Grounded. More nonsense. I went to my room and flopped on the bed. My phone chirped.
               
"R u grounded" from Caleb.
               
"Yes." I sent back.

I put it down and my screen lit up again.
               
"I had fun with you today, Sky"
               
"Skylar. Hit send too soon."
               
"But Sky does sound nice."
               
I smiled at the bubbles of text.
               
"Sky does sound nice ;)"
               
I stared at the phone until the reply promptly came.
               
"Yeah. I might just call you that. If you don't mind."
               
"I don't," I typed out.
               
"Ok. I'll hold you to that."
                
"Just so you buy me ice cream, I'm fine with anything."

I wanted to live in the moment, remember more, but I woke up, and Lincoln was looking down at me.
               
"Sky, wake up. Please open your eyes."
               
"I love you," I mumbled incoherently.
               
I let my eyes open and was suddenly aware of Lincoln's arms still tight around me.
               
"Why wouldn't you let me remember that?" I whispered looking up at the Devil.
               
"Because then you might remember this," he said, and I blacked out again.
               
It was the pain I felt in the gym when I'd gotten up and left Lincoln.
               
"Let me remember it all," I whimpered.
               
"If you'll go back to heaven."
               
"Deal."