Caleb
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I think I can be happy here. I have become an expert at knowing instantly if a placement is going to work or not. And this might be the best one I’ve had in a long time. The lady seems very nice, and I am the only foster child here, so I even have my own room. As usual, the question is: how long will this last? At this stage, I am just hoping to find a nice place I can age out of the system quietly.
The social worker drops me off at the house and stays for a few minutes as I am introduced to Mary, my new foster mother. Liz has been my social worker for six years. She and I have been through this countless times by now. Actually, not countless. I know exactly how many times. This is my thirteenth foster house. Still. She knows I know the drill. And she apparently knows and trusts this woman, so she keeps the meeting short. I decide to see it as a good sign.
Soon enough, it is just Mary and me.
“I am not going to bore you with house rules,” she tells me. “I assume that you know all of that by now. Liz told me that you have been in the system for a long time.” I nod. “Do you want to talk about that?” I shake my head. “Right. She said you were very quiet. I am always here to talk, but I understand if you don’t want to either. I know I’m just a stranger. But I would also like this to be your last home. Would you like that?” I nod because shrugging would be rude. I don’t know her, and even if I want to settle until I’m eighteen, I don’t know yet if I want to do that here. She seems nice. But she will probably be fed up with my social awkwardness soon. Or decide she wants a younger child. Or want to add more children to get a bigger check. Or simply move on with her life. Maybe get married and have a child of her own. I’ve faced all of that before. I know we are replaceable.
“Okay. I’m going to let you get upstairs and unpack. Your room is the door straight across when you reach the top of the stairs. I’ll call you when it’s time for dinner. But, of course, feel free to come down before then if you want to. This is your home too, now.”
“Thank you,” I say. I know those two words are really light to express one’s gratitude, but I really am grateful. Hopefully, she’ll see that before looking for a more rewarding project.
I grab the bag holding all my belongings—my entire life, really, and head upstairs.
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I open the door and freeze. I might have misunderstood something. A boy is sitting at the desk by the window. I thought I was the only boy in the house, but clearly, I didn’t get that right. There is only one bed in the room, so I am pretty sure this won’t be my room. Unless the other boy is leaving today? I don’t see any bags, though.
I guess the best thing would be to just ask. I push the door fully open, take a step inside, and the boy turns around and frowns. He seems confused. That startles me somehow, and I don’t know how to ask the question on my mind.
The boy stands up and walks toward me. As he gets closer, I take a step back, but he doesn’t stop, and I put a hand up to stop him. I don’t touch him, though. Not that he stops. The boy walks straight through me.
I turn around, shocked, but the boy isn’t there. When I look back again, the room is different. I mean… not really. But the desk is empty, the bed is bare, and there isn’t any trace of the boy anywhere.
I… What?
Okay… clearly, I am tired. I just imagined all of that. I must have. What other explanation could there be?
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Liam
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I think… I might be losing my mind a little. It all started with little things. Details that could just have been me not paying attention. My bedroom door opening on its own even without a draft. My window being open when I came back to my room. The light being already switched on when I would wake up in the morning…
But then… I started to see the boy.
Fragments. Sitting on my bed, looking at his phone. Sitting at my desk, doing his homework… But whenever I stare or come closer, he disappears.
It’s always in my room. Never anywhere else. My siblings never seem to notice him, even when he’s right next to them. I haven’t asked Adam because I didn’t want to sound like a weirdo, but I asked Sam, and she laughed, probably thinking it was a game. She said she could see him, but looked in the wrong place, and when she described him, it was nothing like the boy I could see. She also wasn’t very consistent, making me think she was making this up rather than actually seeing another boy.
I am a logical person. I will approach this scientifically. There are several options. The first one, as I said, is that I am going crazy. I am not ready to go there yet. I do understand that mental health is precious, that we need to take care of it and get help when we have to, that people don’t always have the capacity to say it when they are unwell, or even just to realize it… I do get all of that. But I have this intimate conviction that this is something else.
It could be a ghost. I mean… no one died brutally in this house, these grounds were never sacred land or a cemetery of any kind (although… I’m sure at least one person died in the vicinity of this house throughout history), I do not own any antique object that could hold a fragment of someone’s soul… Whatever those rules might be worth. Besides, I do not believe in ghosts.
He could be from another world. Although… I really don’t know how I feel about parallel universes. Especially the notion of one that looks so similar to ours. I still like this theory better than ghosts.
I could be having a bad reaction to something. Or maybe I am being drugged at school. It seems very far-fetched, but not massively more than my other theories, and I wouldn’t swear on my life that the guys at school are above this.
Taking the scientific approach means investigating this, gathering clues and performing experiments. Which is extra difficult when the boy vanishes so easily…
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I started taking notes on how often I see him. I would say that it is roughly once a day, most of the time between eight and nine p.m. (although I am aware that there are large periods of time during which I cannot conduct observations, like when I’m at school or sleeping), and it lasts anything between three and fifteen minutes when left alone. He is gone within ten seconds when I focus on him.
If he is a ghost, he is not haunting me. He doesn’t try to interact with me whatsoever, doesn’t even seem to notice I exist. He is just… living his life. I only get glimpses, but from what I can see when I don’t try to stare, he is sporty and studious. At the very least, he works out and does his homework.
He tends to stay longer when he is doing his homework. Perhaps, though, it might be because I always end up staring when he is working out. Which I know is morally questionable, but I do promise that I looked away the one time he changed clothes in the room. I even stepped out of my own bedroom to give him some privacy.
I have never heard him speak, I don’t know his name, and when I try to look at what he is writing, he disappears before I can get close enough. Despite my efforts, he remains a complete mystery.
I am still a bit freaked out by the situation, but… I am also very intrigued. This might be the most exciting thing that will ever happen to me…
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Caleb
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All things considered, I think I am happy here.
Mary is among the best foster parents I’ve ever had. She doesn’t mind that I am shy (although… shy is an understatement. The doctors called it ‘selective mute’), she doesn’t mind if I sit with her for a few hours, not saying anything, just enjoying someone else’s presence, she always listens when I do want to talk, she tells me about her life…
She makes me feel pretty confident that I am here to stay. At least until college, that is.
I don’t have friends yet, but I do talk to a few people in school. I might try out for the swimming team next month. I haven’t properly trained for four months, so I probably won’t get in. But it’s worth a shot, right?
So… yes, things are going pretty well.
Except.
There is one thing that keeps me from feeling… at peace. The boy I saw in the room. I did ask Mary about it that first night, but she had only one foster child before me, and it was an eight-year-old girl, so… nothing like the teenager who walked right through me.
I haven’t told Mary anything about it. I really didn’t need to give her a reason to think that I was unstable and consider sending me back so soon.
Plus, at first, I genuinely thought that I was tired and imagined the entire thing. That was the only logical explanation. Even when I saw him the second time… It was after my first day at my new school. I came back into the room, and he was sitting cross-legged on the bed, reading a book. A large illustrated science book. I walked closer to him, and he became blurry before disappearing entirely. Once more, I just assumed that I was tired and that my brain was tricking me.
But… when your brain is tricking you almost daily… that’s the beginning of madness, isn’t it?
And yet, this doesn’t feel like that. Something tells me that he is real—which I guess could be another sign that I am going crazy, I know—and… it’s not like he talks to me and tells me to do things. I just see him in this bedroom, living his life.
He does speak. Just not to me.
The first time I heard him speak, I nearly had a heart attack. I didn’t even know he was there. But there he was, standing in the middle of the room, a closed book in his hand. He was reciting a list of properties for something or other, then he opened the book to check that he was right, smiled, and disappeared.
My room seems to be haunted by a clever apparition. Maybe in time, I will be haunted everywhere, and he will be able to take tests for me…
Another time, I heard him talk to someone I think might have been his sister. I’m not sure. I could only see him. From the tone of his voice, I could tell he was talking to someone younger, but he didn’t really adapt his vocabulary or talk to her as if she was less than him. I liked that. But as I tried to listen in on the conversation, he disappeared.
The last time I heard him, he was on the phone with ‘Maisie,’ whoever that is. They sounded close. She’s probably his girlfriend. Which… made me jealous for some reason. I’m not sure what about. That he is straight and can find love much easier than I ever will? That he doesn’t have to move around every few months and can form meaningful relationships with people? That he is taken? That last one would be ridiculous. I hardly know him, if at all, and he fades away when I look at him.
And he always fades away. Because I always look at him…
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Liam
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If I keep my distance, I can look at him now. I can stare, and he won’t vanish. I still can’t come near him, but I can look at him. It feels important somehow.
He is very quiet. And I think he was lonely at first, but he is getting more and more messages, so it looks like he is making friends. Which leads me to think that maybe he moved here—wherever ‘here’ is—because that’s how I imagine someone’s social life would grow as they arrive somewhere new. But it’s not like I can ask him.
One evening, I was sitting on the windowsill, and he was on the bed, listening to some music through his headphones, reading a comic book, when he suddenly looked up toward the door. I looked too, but there was nothing for me to see. That’s when I heard him speak for the first time.
I drank in all the words he said, all small openings to the boy’s secrets.
I could only witness half the conversation, which was very frustrating, but… it also gave me some answers. He indeed joined a new school, but he is settling in. He joined some team, and he gets on well with the other boys. He thinks his grades are improving. And when he can choose takeaway, he goes for pizza…
At the time, I remember thinking, stupidly, that I could help him with school if he wanted me to.
After that… he was on my mind more and more. As if hearing his voice, his gentle tone, had made him more real and more important somehow.
I could hear his gentleness a couple of times when he was on the phone with friends—or teammates, at least—making various plans for practice or just hanging out. I learned that he is selfless, always trying to accommodate others before himself.
I do know that I am not actually drawn to the boy—I still barely know him—and that it is the mystery that attracts me, pushing me to spend so much time in my room, hoping that he will show up, leaving me completely empty on the days he doesn’t…
It has to be the mystery. Otherwise, it would mean that I am becoming obsessed, maybe developing a little crush on the handsome, kind, shy boy that sometimes appears just to quietly spend time with me? How pathetic would that be?
Then again, why wouldn’t I develop a little crush on him? My brain probably created him for me in the first place…
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Tonight, as I get back up to my room after dinner, Adam teases me, asking me if I have a secret boyfriend, while my parents pretend not to hear the joke. What a ridiculous idea. Even if he is real, he has no idea who I am, and probably wouldn’t be interested anyway, so that would hardly classify as a boyfriend. But I do have a secret, it is indeed a boy, and I need to tell someone about him.
Maybe Maisie? Would she believe me? I am fairly sure that she wouldn’t be able to see him, so she would have to trust that I am not lying, trust that even if I were telling the truth, I wouldn’t be crazy, trust that… trust what? What is all of this? And do I really want people to know anyway? I have zero answers to give anyone, and the whole situation somehow feels so personal… I don’t know. Maybe this is all just for me.
I open the door and I am beyond pleased to see him there. He is sitting on the desk—not at, on—seemingly just out of the shower, hair still wet, shirtless—which I won’t complain about—looking down at his phone. He is lit sideways by something that doesn’t exist in my room.
Seeing him used to be a source of stress, but tonight, as often lately, I feel calmer just from seeing him.
“Hey, you,” I say, even though he can’t hear me. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He freezes and slowly looks up from his phone to stare straight into my eyes, mouth open in shock.
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Caleb
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I don’t know which parts I like most about the mystery boy. When he is in his room, studying or writing, entirely focused, lost in what he is doing, it looks like the world around him doesn’t exist anymore. It feels like even if we were under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t see me anyway, too far away for anyone to reach. Or when he is talking to people—either people in the room that I can’t see, or someone on the phone—showing his smart, witty side. He makes me laugh a lot, even if he won’t ever know it.
I do know how pathetic it is to be so smitten by someone I won’t ever interact with, who might not even be real. But since I am unable to open up to people, that might be the best I will ever get.
Mary says that I will grow out of it. The shyness, of course, I didn’t tell her about seeing a vanishing boy. I don’t know if that’s true, but if it means that I will be able to talk to him if we ever get to meet, then I really hope it is.
I get out of the shower, put on some pajama pants, and walk back to my room. He is not here. I sit on the desk, facing the door. I always liked to sit higher up, but this is mainly so I will be able to see him walk in if he shows up tonight.
Which is stupid. He is probably already in the room. I know I can’t always see him, and he sometimes just appears out of nowhere.
Lately, I have wondered a lot whether he can see me too, sometimes. I don’t think so. He has never once looked in my direction, he has never seemed freaked out for no reason, he never jumped, startled… Or maybe he can see me but is not interested in looking…
My phone buzzes. I look down. It’s the team’s group chat. Some of the guys are sending me updates on their evening. I can’t believe I made it to the team. Even after months of just occasional swims at the local pool, I still have it in me, apparently. That made me feel so good. Proud. It’s not a familiar feeling. Anyway. They were going out tonight, and they invited me. I declined, saying that I had too much homework and that my mom wouldn’t let me anyway. I didn’t add that she wasn’t really my mom and that she would probably let me go if I asked, but that I don’t do well with large gatherings, that even if I like them and I’m sure we are going to be friends, we are not there yet, and that makes things harder for me. I didn’t tell them either that the reason I have so much homework is that I am falling behind in a lot of subjects, and the regular school change didn’t help. I especially didn’t tell them that I couldn’t come because I don’t want to miss an opportunity to learn more about my ghost, or even just see him…
Still. They are sending me pictures of their evening so I’d feel included, and I find it really nice of them.
I hear the door open, but I don’t see the light from the corridor. My door didn’t open. I don’t know what the rules are, but his interactions don’t always impact my objects. Just sometimes. I don’t look at him right away because I want to reply to the boys before I forget. I guess I should at least try to give real life priority over whatever this is.
Just as I press ‘send’, I hear him say, “Hey, you. I’m glad you’re here.”
I look up, surprised. He doesn’t mean me, right? There must be someone else in the room. Someone I can’t see.
But he is looking straight at me, his happy smile turning into a shocked face. “You… heard that?” he asks, and I simply nod, unable to find words right now. He sees me. He knows me. Has he seen me this entire time? Have we just been out of sync so far?
“I… You… are you real?” he asks.
“I think so,” I reply, making him smile. I don’t know if this is because of my messy reply or because we are having our first-ever conversation.
“This is crazy,” he says softly. I guess he doesn’t want his family to later ask him who he was talking to.
“I thought I made you up,” I admit.
“Same.”
For a moment, we just look at each other in silence. The truth is that I might still be imagining him. Maybe I’m just one step crazier. But the way he looks at me, like he is trying to understand this situation as much as I am, makes me believe that he is real, and he is struggling with this impossible reality too. I suddenly feel less lonely.
He takes a step forward and lifts his hand, a question in his eyes. I nod and lift my hand too. He takes another step forward, and his fingers are now so close to mine. In a second, we will be touching. My heart is beating so loudly that I’m sure he can hear it.
It was so predictable… I should have known this was coming… And yet, as soon as he disappears, I feel so deeply disappointed. Because part of me thought that we could touch. I didn’t even feel his skin brush against mine, though. We should have talked instead of pushing our luck. What if that was our only chance?
On the other hand… he used to disappear whenever I looked at him and now I can stare at him. Now I can talk to him. Maybe touching will come.
And I don’t mean… it’s not… I just mean touching him once to know that he is real. Other types of touching… I’m not letting my mind go there…
That’s also when I realize that I am still half-naked. Great. This is mortifying.
Even when I wondered… I always thought that I was the only one seeing him… how many times have I made a fool of myself in front of him?
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Liam
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No, no, no… How stupid can I be? Why did I try to touch him? How did I not notice that it would make him disappear? Why do I have zero ounces of self-control? I just… wanted to make him a little bit more real…
And I swear it’s not because he was… looking like that. Sure, that didn’t help me think properly, but… When I raised my arm, I wasn’t attracted to him in that way. I just… wanted to connect with him. The only other person in the world (worlds?) who understands this crazy aspect of my life…
Why did I rush things? We could have talked. I am and have been craving the chance to talk to him even more than the opportunity to touch him. So why didn’t I seize it when I could? What if I never see him again? Or what if I do see him again, but it’s in silence again? What if that was our only chance? What if we go back to being out of sync?
I’m feeling a bit sick.
He was just there. He talked to me. He talked to me! He even made a little joke. I know this isn’t such a massive thing, but I know he is shy, and I somehow feel a little flattered. Oh, God… how is he so deep under my skin already?
And he knew who I was… so he has been seeing me… I started to be a little more careful about what I do in my room lately, and it’s nice to know that I wasn’t just paranoid. Still… Has he seen me as often as I saw him? More? Have I done anything stupid?
I am not as quiet as him. Has he overheard any conversation? Which ones? Does he know that I am gay?
Ugh. If only I had talked to him instead of trying to touch him.
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I am so close to crying when I see him again a day later, and he can neither hear nor see me. Did I blow our only chance?
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I wake up oddly happy. Maybe not happy but… relaxed. Calm. Any other synonyms you want to put in there. I don’t know why, but I welcome the feeling. It is much nicer than being annoyed at the jerks from school, disappointed in myself for the way I handled my ghost, or hurt because of the way my parents look at me…
I open my eyes and there, right there, an inch from my face… there he is. Waking up too. I think we opened our eyes at the same time. We both gasp, surprised, and he disappears.
Okay… this was awkward. On many different levels. But it also means that we had another shared moment. It makes me hopeful. I will see him again and, this time, I will keep my distance…
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As it turns out, I didn’t even have to wait that long. When I get home that evening—and dash to my room before even interacting with any member of my family—he is there.
He is… floating. Sort of. I’m sure he is sitting on something in his world, but from my perspective… he is levitating, legs crossed, maybe twenty-five inches from the floor.
“Hey,” I whisper, hopeful but also remembering how heartbreaking it was when he didn’t reply a few days ago.
I feel so insanely relieved when he looks up, surprised and happy.
“Hey,” he replies.
I shut the door. I don’t want anyone to think I’m talking to myself. At least with the closed door, I could always say that I was on the phone with Maisie.
I sit on my bed, opposite him in the room and ask, “What are you sitting on?”
“My bed.”
“Isn’t your bed pretty much exactly where mine is?”
“It was. I moved it after what happened this morning.”
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” I apologize.
“Don’t be ridiculous. It wasn’t your fault. And it’s not the only reason. It’s more… I didn’t want you to disappear again just because we are too close when you show up.”
“From where I stand, you’re the one disappearing,” I joke.
He smiles and says, “You look like you’re floating.”
“You too. It’s a bit weird, isn’t it?”
“Maybe not more than the rest of it,” he wisely replies.
“No. Probably not.”
We stay silent for a moment, simply looking at each other, enjoying a shared moment. And, this time, neither of us is stupid enough to walk to the other.
“Do you see me often?” he asks. That leads us to comparing stories about suddenly sharing a bedroom with a ghost-like apparition. It is reassuring to know that he found it scary too but didn’t panic either.
“So…” I finally say.
“So?”
“There is one question we need to answer before all others…”
He smiles, and something tells me that he knows exactly what I want to ask. “I’m Caleb.”
“Liam.”
“Nice to meet…”
But I don’t hear the end of his sentence. He disappeared already.
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Caleb. It will be nice to put a name on my daydreams from now on…
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Caleb
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Liam.
There is something so deeply satisfying about knowing his name, having had a conversation with him, knowing that we are sort of on the same page about the way we handled… whatever this is.
I was also pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to talk to him. As if I was already comfortable around him. Even when he seems to be weirdly floating in the air.
Usually, I tend to want social interactions with strangers—which is still what he is—to be over pretty quickly. But I think this was too short. I wanted more time with him.
Although things are different now. Now I know there will be a next time. And I can’t wait for it.
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It’s two more days before I see him again. He is on his phone, smiling at something, and cannot see or hear me. He is on his bed, which I can see this time. I really don’t understand the rules for all of this, but I am ready to keep following rules I do not understand if that means that I can keep him by my side a while longer. Even if that is all in my head.
I am about to talk to him again, just to check if the situation changed (I don’t know that it can, but I also wouldn’t swear that it can’t), when there is a knock on my door. I invite Mary in, and she sits at my desk, between Liam and me.
“How was your day?” she asks me.
“Fine.”
“Is now a good time to talk?” She can definitely see that I am not busy. What she is really asking is if I am in the mood to talk, which I find very considerate of her.
I quickly glance at Liam, still very unaware of us. “Yes, that’s fine.”
“We need to talk about what comes next for you, Sweetheart.”
My entire body gets cold. Next? I thought this placement was going well… And… I know it’s been a few months, but it also still seems so short… Has she grown tired of me already? I have done my chores, I haven’t asked for anything, I have talked to her, I…
I glance at where Liam is still looking at his phone. No, no, no. I am not ready to leave yet. Not this life, not her, not him…
“Next?” I ask, voice tight and less confident than I would have liked.
“Yes, next. I know there is still time, but I also know you haven’t really had the opportunity to make plans for it.”
“Plans for what?”
“College.”
Oh. Oh. That is not a topic any of my foster parents ever discussed with me before. Probably because they all knew I wouldn’t be around anymore by then. Or because they didn’t care. When I age out, I am not their problem anymore.
“What about it?”
“I don’t know. Do you want to go?”
“I… I think so.”
“Okay. Let’s talk about that then. What is your plan so far?”
“I don’t have any. I know that what you want and what you get are two very different things.”
She sighs. “That is a good mindset for a survivor. But you shouldn’t have to think like one. You’re sixteen years old. Let’s look at things from that perspective, alright? I think, but I might be wrong, that you are happy enough with me.”
“I am.”
“Good. Then I think we can at least plan to have you here for two more years. Would you like that?”
“I would.”
“Great. Then I want you to start thinking about college and I will support you through it.”
“I’ll figure something out,” I reply. “You don’t have to worry about what comes next for me.”
Mary leans back in the chair and says, “We haven’t really talked about why you are here, have we? Can I tell you a little about myself?”
I nod. I didn’t really question why I was here. It’s just me here, so I don’t think this is about making money. I am not a child, so I don’t think this is about building a family. Then what? Giving back somehow?
“I fostered for the first time after my divorce. Not right after, of course, but once I was ready to start a new chapter in my life. I only took temporary placements. And by that, I don’t mean taking in children I would then put back in the system. I mean taking in people who needed a temporary place to stay. Children with parents in the hospital, children with a single parent in jail for a while, and even once a teenage girl and her baby who needed help getting back on her feet. That type of situation. All as unique as the child who came with them. All those children could have ended up staying much longer, but we were all lucky enough that they were all successfully returned to their families or were able to move on with their lives.”
“And then came me?”
“Sort of. And then I decided that I was done taking care of other people’s children when they couldn’t. I was ready to look at adoption through fostering.”
“Did that not work?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t tried yet. Because Liz convinced me to try something else first. She said there was this one boy she needed to relocate. Unlucky boy who had been moved from home to home pretty much his entire life. He was now a teenager, and he could really use a nice house to finish his secondary education in the best conditions. Someplace he could finally feel like he isn’t just holding his breath for the next time his life has to be uprooted. I’m going to be honest with you, I did question what kind of boy you were that people kept sending you back to the system, and she promised me that you would be my easiest placement. You really had just been unlucky, or maybe she had been unwise in the families she chose for you. And you know what? You have been my easiest placement by far. I see what this life has done to you, I see all the times you struggle, but I also see how you keep trying and how you make the best of what life gives you. You could have turned so many ways, and here you are. A kind, hard-working, gentle soul. So here I am. Someone who always cared about what was next for every child that came through these doors, at a point in my life where I am ready to care even more for someone… So your next big step, college, or whatever else… we will work it out together, and we will make it happen for you. Even if you age out before then.”
“Thank you,” I say, because all the other words I would like to tell her are held back by my wall of insecurities, because I trust her when she says this is my last foster home, because I heard what she said and what it means, even if we are not there yet, because I am a bit overwhelmed right now…
“Are you really happy here?” she asks.
“I am. This is a great house.”
“And how is school?”
“Good. I’m still a bit behind.”
“We can work on that. If that’s something you want.”
“I think I need to if I want to go to college.”
“See? Already looking forward. I am so proud of you! And are you making friends?”
“I really like the guys from the team, but…”
“Not friends just yet,” she finishes, and I nod. I like that she gets things when I struggle to find the words. “And… is there a girl? That could be a side project while we work on college.” I feel my whole face burn up, and she suddenly seems mortified. “I’m sorry. I pushed too far, I should have known. We do not have to talk about that.”
“It’s not that… not exactly. It’s… there won’t be a girl.”
“Because you are focusing on other things or because you would rather there’d be a boy?” she asks.
“There would be a boy,” I reply. “There might be a boy already.” My face is still on fire, but it also feels so freeing. It’s the first time I have ever said any of that out loud. And the kind look on her face tells me that I chose the right person to do this with.
“How serious is it? With that boy?”
“It’s really not. He doesn’t even know I like him. He probably isn’t into boys. And it’s complicated, it’s just…”
“A little crush?”
“A big crush,” I say, feeling equally mortified and relieved.
“What’s his name?”
“Liam.” A week ago, I wouldn’t even have been able to answer that question.
“If Liam is a smart boy, I’m sure he will see everything you have to offer.” I smile, embarrassed, and she can apparently tell that I am not ready to share more on the subject. Not just because of all the questions I wouldn’t be able to answer. “Alright. I’m going to get dinner started. We eat in an hour.”
“Perfect, thank you.”
She leaves and my eyes fall on the other side of the room, where Liam is still on his phone. I had completely forgotten about him. But, as always, it is a soothing apparition. At least until he puts his phone down and looks up, embarrassed, his apologizing eyes meeting mine.
“Liam?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, you just appeared, and… I didn’t know what to do…”
“How long have you been here?”
“Not long.”
“How long?”
“Since… ‘Is there a girl’…”
Oh God… that means that he heard all of it. My coming out. My crush on him… I am so embarrassed that it physically hurts my stomach.
“Listen, Caleb, I—”
I won’t ever know what he was trying to say. He disappeared mid-sentence. It’s probably for the best. I don’t think I would have enjoyed what came next.
ㅤ
Liam
ㅤ
This is the worst possible scenario, isn’t it?
It didn’t start the way it usually does. I heard a woman’s voice in my room and then Caleb’s voice answering. I looked up, but there wasn’t anyone to see. Then he appeared. He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at someone I couldn’t see but could hear, asking about his girlfriend. I looked down at my phone again, bracing myself to hear the devastating news. I needed to hear it, though. Because if Caleb had a girlfriend, then it didn’t matter that he was not from this world—or whatever this is—because he couldn’t be mine anyway.
His next words put me at the top of the world, though. Because Caleb was into boys. One in particular. Me. And it felt so incredible.
But it also felt wrong. I wasn’t supposed to find out that way. So I didn’t try to pretend I wasn’t there. As soon as the lady (his mother?) left, I tried to come clean. The terrified look on his face felt like a slap. I had to make this right. Tell him that it was not only okay but also wonderful. That I was feeling the same way. That we could work something out of all this mess, maybe, that…
It didn’t matter what I wanted to say. He faded away before I could even say the part about it being okay.
And since then, I haven’t been able to forget the hurt, shameful look on his face. The one that doesn’t need to be there. That shouldn’t be there. And it aches to know that I put it there, albeit unintentionally.
ㅤ
“Maisie? What would you do if you had hurt someone’s feelings?”
“Apologize,” she replies like I’m the biggest idiot she has ever met.
“What if it’s not that easy?”
“And what if you stopped talking in riddles?” she suggests, sounding slightly annoyed.
I understand her point, but it’s not exactly like I can tell her what happened, is it? This story is too personal still. Even for Maisie. Not to mention the unbelievable side of it. Literally.
“So… there is this guy…”
Her eyes light up instantly. “A guy? What guy? Do you have a secret boyfriend?”
“Sort of. Not really. It’s complicated.”
“Okay,” she gracefully lets go. “What have you done to mystery boy?”
“I overheard him telling someone that he was into me, he found out that I heard, and he disappeared before I could tell him that there was nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“So, technically, you haven’t done anything wrong,” she says, understanding the word ‘disappeared’ differently than I meant it. Which… fair.
“I let him go.” I know I am being unfair to myself right now. But I still feel like a coward somehow. Maybe because I could have left the room when I realized I could hear him and he was going to share something personal.
“Then text him to tell him that you are sorry and that you like him too. It’s honestly not that hard.”
“Hmm… First of all, it is hard to put yourself out there like that.”
“Not when you know he likes you too.”
“Good point. But I don’t have his number.”
“Find him at lunch.”
“He doesn’t come here.”
“Social media?”
“I only know his first name.” That’s obviously only part of the problem, but it isn’t a lie either.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Why are you making this harder than it has to be? Find him the way you usually find him, apologize, tell him you like him too, and then kiss. It’s really not that difficult!”
She’s right. It isn’t. Except in this very specific context.
ㅤ
Maisie’s advice stays on my mind for a while, though. She’s right. All I have to do is wait for Caleb to appear again, and then I can tell him everything. It doesn’t have to be awkward anymore.
But I haven’t seen him in days, despite the ridiculous amount of time I have been spending in my room. Deep down, I can’t help thinking that this might have something to do with what happened. As if his shame is shielding him, keeping me out. Is that even something we can do? And how do I fix this in these conditions?
Until one night, I reach my breaking point. I can’t take it anymore. I have to try something. If he can wish me out, if this is really what is happening, then perhaps I can wish him in.
I sit on my bed, think about him, stare at the wall, exactly where he sat the last time we spoke, and pour my heart out to him.
“Hey, Caleb. I don’t know if you can hear me. I don’t even know if you’re there. I haven’t really seen you lately. I thought… maybe it’s because you don’t want me to? And that is the most heartbreaking thing ever, because I don’t want to lose you. This thing that brought us together… it has to be for something, right? And even without that… I would love to say that I don’t care that you’re gay and that you have a crush on me, but that would be a lie. I care. So much. Because I feel the same way, you understand? I know we don’t really know each other, but I want you to know that if you were in my world, I would ask you on a date just so I would get a chance to get to know you better. In a heartbeat. But given that we can’t have that… Since all we have is this crazy thing… I still want to live it. To get to know you. Fall in love with you too, maybe. Even if we can’t touch. Even if we can’t really be together. Because I’d rather face the heartbreak than not having loved the disappearing boy. You get that, don’t you? Please. Just tell me that you heard that, and that you get it…”
My heart could burst when I hear, “I do.” I nearly jump and look at the desk. There he is, sitting on the desk once more, his homework on his knee. I can’t help but smile. This is so like him to sit on the desk only to put the work on his lap.
“You’re back,” I breathe out.
“I didn’t realize I had gone anywhere.”
“I guess you didn’t want to see me…”
“It was embarrassing.”
“I get it. I truly do. But… at the same time… it wasn’t. You only said words I was dying to hear.”
“Really?”
“Really. Oh, and your mom was right. I would have to be a fool not to see how great you are.”
He blushes, and he ever so slightly changes the subject. “It’s something I wondered about, the last time, when you said what you had heard first… did you really hear her?”
“I did.”
“How does any of this even work?”
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “But I have a few hypotheses.”
“Such as?”
For the rest of the time we are given that night, we don’t talk about our feelings. Instead, we talk about this strange thing and try to understand how it works. First, we establish that we are probably from different worlds. The date and address are the same for both of us. So… he isn’t from the past or the future, and he isn’t appearing to me from a different location. Everything else about our worlds seems the same. Regarding the apparitions, we both agree that whatever this is, it is getting stronger. We see each other linger, we can talk, we are starting to be aware of each other’s surroundings… We are not quite sure what comes next, but we are both eager to find out rather than scared of it. And we both decide to test my latest theory. Tomorrow night, we will try to will each other’s presence into the room. See if that works…”
ㅤ
Caleb
ㅤ
I am feeling a little nervous. Partly because of what is about to happen. In a few minutes, I will know if this is possible for us to just wish for the other one to appear. It’s not just that, though… we made plans about seeing each other at a specific time. It almost feels like a date.
I know we can’t go out, we can’t touch, and there won’t be any sort of goodnight kiss, but… I still took time to shower, pick out clothes, and style my hair. Sort of.
I close my eyes as soon as my alarm goes off, wishing with all my heart that he would be there when I open them.
And he is. Sitting on his own bed, which I can see today, smiling. I take a second to notice that he clearly dressed up too for this.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey, you,” he replies.
ㅤ
We manage to stay together for a couple of hours. We talk about a lot of things. Everything, really. I am once more amazed at how easy it is to talk to him. I try to ignore that voice saying that this is a bad idea, that falling for him will only hurt when either one of us has to move from this room… I simply let myself enjoy the moment, and I let myself fall. Hard.
ㅤ
“This was supposed to be my brother’s room,” he tells me one evening. Now that we can wish our encounters into being, at least most of the time, we have been talking pretty much every day. “When we moved here. But we swapped at the last minute. I don’t even remember why. I’m so glad we did, now.”
“I’m sure your brother is great, but… yeah. I’m glad too.”
“What about you? Do you have siblings?”
“No.”
“Just you and your parents?”
“It’s a bit more complicated.” He looks at me with big eyes that say, ‘I’m here to listen if you want, but you don’t have to.’ I do want to. So I tell him all about my mother, who left when I was a baby, my father, who sort of tried and disappeared when I was a kid, how I entered foster care and moved from home to home, never getting an awful one like you sometimes hear about on the news, but never the right one either. Until now. Until Mary.
Until him, too, I guess.
He asks a couple of questions. Nothing offensive, nothing stupid, nothing unsupportive… Just curiosity about me. And for once, I don’t mind opening up and answering all those things about me. Because he’s not a stranger anymore.
“Hey, Caleb?”
“Yes?”
“Do you want to try touching again?” He sounds shy and nervous, which is almost unlike him. We both know that even if we disappear, we are very likely to see each other again tomorrow. So he is afraid of something else. I get it. I want to try too, but I am almost terrified as well. If he disappears again, then it means that we might never be able to touch. If he doesn’t, then… that would be us touching for the first time. Opening a door to new possibilities.
It is scary.
Just not enough to keep us from trying.
We slowly walk across the room and we stop right in the middle, inches from each other, almost sharing the same breath. No one disappears.
I move my hand closer to grab his fingers, heart beating crazily, and Liam fades away.
This time, I’m pretty sure our skin brushed first.
ㅤ
Unless it was all in my head.
ㅤ
Liam
ㅤ
So much of my waking time is spent thinking about Caleb. And pretty much all my sleeping time too, actually. It is partly because of the crazy circumstances around us, true, but this is mostly about the boy. Had I met him under different circumstances, I’m pretty sure he would have stolen my heart as well. Because there is no way to deny it anymore. I am in love with him. After weeks of talking every night… I really want to ask him to be my boyfriend.
I’m pretty sure he would say yes. But that’s the problem, actually. What future are we building together? We can’t touch, we can’t go out, we can’t make plans for after graduation unless I give up on my dream colleges and study close enough that I can live at home… And yet, I still want him to be mine. I feel so much happier after talking to him for a few minutes than I was after kissing Jake… Maybe this could be enough to make us both happy for a while. Perhaps even a long while.
It is at least worth a shot, isn’t it?
ㅤ
I haven’t ‘summoned’ Caleb tonight. It’s not that I don’t want him here, and I would genuinely be happy if he showed up, but… I also have a piercing headache.
I have long since discarded my homework, and I tried to clear my mind by working on my personal project, but even that was too much. So I am sitting at my desk, hands against my eyes, resting on my elbows. I should go to bed, really. It would…
I freeze. I felt something. Fingers in my hair.
I look up, and Caleb is there, sitting on the desk, looking surprised. “I’m really sorry,” he says. “You couldn’t hear me, you looked in pain, and that always helps me when I have a headache… Plus, I really, really thought that I would disappear before being able to touch you, not that it would make me appear, and—”
“Do it again,” I interrupt him.
“What?”
“It felt nice. Do it again.”
He smiles and slides his fingers in my hair again. I close my eyes, resting my head on his thigh, and let him gently massage my scalp. It does help. And it feels so nice. Much nicer than kissing Jake. And we’re touching. Not that I can focus on it now with the way my head hurts, but… it is a massive step, isn’t it?
“Why do you always sit on the desk?” I ask him as his fingers start working on the nape of my neck. Honestly, I could purr.
“When I was ten, I was in a home where I had to share my room with two other boys. We had one desk. So we got creative in the way we shared the space. I guess I kept the habit.”
“Why not do your homework somewhere else?”
“I don’t really remember. I just remember that Tim used the desk, I used the windowsill, and Alex used the wall.”
I hum, my mind drifting a little. I think I might fall asleep if we keep doing this, but I don’t want to stop, and he doesn’t seem to mind.
“What’s in the notebook?” he asks. “I know it’s not the one you use for your homework, and I always wondered.”
“I write.”
“Stories?”
“No. Later, I’d like to write books explaining complex science to children and teenagers. Maybe adults, too. Take the big, scary concepts and make that knowledge available to all.”
“That’s cool.”
“I don’t know if I’m any good, though. It’s always hard to know if it’s simple enough to be understood by someone with less knowledge without being boring or patronizing.”
“I’m quite bad at science. Maybe next time you can show me a few pages and I’ll tell you how I feel after reading it.”
I smile. I never let anyone around my work in progress. “I’d love to.” Because Caleb isn’t just anyone.
“Hey. Maybe you should move,” he says.
That is the absolute last thing I want. “Why?”
“What if I disappear and your head hits the desk?”
“I’m willing to risk it.”
“Okay. Five more minutes.”
His other hand appears on my head too. This is heaven.
ㅤ
I wake up in my bed. I don’t really remember how I made it there. The last thing I remember is resting my head on Caleb’s warm leg, his fingers in my hair.
Am I the biggest idiot that this planet has ever held? When I knew we couldn’t touch, I tried to and made him disappear, and now that we were given the chance, I didn’t make the most of it?
Honestly, who, on this entire planet, would have their dream boy fully materialize for the first time and not even go for a kiss? I don’t care how unwell I was. I should have gone for it.
What if our bond was only getting stronger to give us that moment, and now we are going to slowly fade into nothingness?
I bury my head in my pillow and groan.
“Good morning to you too.”
I jump and look up. He’s there, in his bed, apparently waking up too. His hair is messy, his t-shirt is slightly lifted, his smile is soft and tired… This is the best possible start for this weekend.
“Hi.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just… was yesterday weird?”
“Yes. I would say that every day I see a boy who might be from a different reality, who might not even exist, can be classified as ‘weird’.”
I smile. I like it when he is like this. “You know what I mean.”
“I thought it was nice,” he replies, creating a warm feeling in my chest. “How is your head?”
“Much better.”
“Good.”
“That was probably thanks to…” he disappears before I can finish. I do anyway. “…you.”
ㅤ
Caleb
ㅤ
Part of me is a little frustrated that we didn’t kiss when we could. Every time I’ve seen him since, it has either been really short or we couldn’t touch. The one time we tried, we didn’t even disappear, we just… weren’t corporeal to each other. If that’s even the word. He is better than me with words.
The other part of me, though, is glad that we didn’t kiss. Because we shared a precious moment and I want to cherish it for what it was, not what it could have been.
Plus… when we talked about coming out, he mentioned that there had been a boy before… but this would be my first kiss. I don’t want him to be disappointed when we get there.
I also don’t need more reasons to fall even more in love with a boy I can never have. I know he wants to go to college out of state, and he should be able to do just that. Not staying in this odd version of a haunted house. And however nice Mary is… I won’t be able to stay forever either. Perhaps we should learn how to say goodbye. Now. While we are still fond of each other and yet not in too deep…
ㅤ
I tell him that last part the next time I see him. I am so nervous that I feel like I might throw up. This almost feels like breaking up.
“I’d say I’m in pretty deep already,” he replies.
“I know. Me too. But that’s the thing. How much deeper can we realistically go?”
“So what? I am supposed to just… ignore you when I see you?”
“Or will me away.”
“I can’t do that.”
No. I suppose I can’t either. “Then I can ask Mary to move into the guest room. I’m sure she’d let me. Out of sight, out of mind.”
He crosses the room and carefully sits on my bed. He doesn’t fall through it. If he can touch my bed… does that mean he can touch me today? He gently puts his hands on mine. Yes. We can touch today.
“Caleb, look at me.” I obey, almost reluctantly. “Is that really what you want?”
“No. I want to be a real boy, in my world, and not someone I can lose at any moment.”
“We can lose anyone at any moment.”
“It’s different, and you know it.”
“I guess so.”
“Liam, I think we need to let go.” I feel my eyes and throat tingle in the most unpleasant way. But I can’t cry right now. Not only am I not sure I’ll be able to stop once I start, but I also don’t want this to be the last memory he has of me.
“Please don’t leave me,” he whispers, pleadingly. “Not yet, I’m not ready. Please.”
He really doesn’t need to beg me not to do something I didn’t really want to do in the first place.
His face is so close to mine. When did it get so close? My hand finds its own way to his cheek, gently caressing it before cupping his jaw. This is not what I should be doing right now.
“It’s for the best,” I say. “You’re too smart to be my boyfriend.”
He frowns, and for a second, I think that I might have been presumptuous with the ‘boyfriend’ assumption. “Why? Because I like science and I have better grades? If we go there, you’re far too hot to be my boyfriend.”
That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t know how he defines ‘hot’, but given the dreams I had of him lately… he definitely fits my own definition perfectly.
“I think you’re pretty hot,” I assure him.
“I think you’re pretty smart.”
“I think I’m in love with you.” The words made it out before I even knew I was thinking them. Very surprisingly, I don’t feel embarrassed. I need him to know. Before I can’t say it anymore. Whether because of a decision we might make or because the universe will decide to keep us apart.
“Then don’t give up on us,” he pleads.
“But what future do we have?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. But we have a pretty good present, don’t we?”
Right now, with this face so close, with our first kiss not so distant, it’s hard to argue with him.
I think about my life here. Mary had been great, but she is still just a lady who took care of me. She might have been the greatest carer I have ever had, but I learned a long time ago not to trust them. Not to get attached. And, sure, I am starting to let her in more and more, but… she is the only good thing I have in this world. Right now, I think I would trade her for a real Liam. Even if this isn’t forever. When we end up breaking up, I want it to be for real-life reasons, not because… Yes. If I had one wish, it would be that one. Be in the same world as the one thing I am genuinely afraid of losing.
We managed to slowly will each other into physical contact. Maybe we can turn something even crazier into reality… But then what would I do in a parallel world with no identity, still no family, not even a foster one, once more without friends, and even less of a future than I have now?
So I do the only thing I can: I ignore the future—real or imaginary—to take what the present has to offer me. I lean in, and Liam kisses me back instantly.
For about ten seconds, my mind is entirely quiet. Everything is perfect. And then… then the world disappears.
Quite literally.
ㅤ
Liam
ㅤ
His hand on my face was already making it hard to breathe and focus, but his lips on mine finished taking my breath away and empty my mind. No. Not empty, actually. Just fill it with nothing but Caleb.
Until everything disappears. As I fall through a bed that doesn’t exist anymore (and those twenty-four inches almost feel like miles), all I can think is ‘No, no, no. Please. I need more time. I need forever. I need a year. I need five minutes. I’ll even settle for ten seconds. Ten more seconds with him. Let us create a bit more of that memory. Something that will not fade. If I cannot bring the boy to my world, if I cannot keep him with me, then leave me the memory of a first kiss not ended too soon… Please…’
And then I hit the floor. Not really hard, just enough to stop my silly wish that won’t come true.
And then… And then something falls on me.
I open my eyes to see Caleb, looking as confused as I am. If his world disappeared… how is he still there?
“Caleb?”
“My clothes are different.”
I look at him. He’s right. His hair is a little longer too. It’s him. It’s clearly him. He looks the same, but also… I can see it in his eyes. He is still the boy I have been bonding with and not just my brother’s best friend. Wait… what?
He sits up, looking equally confused. “Is your brother called Adam?”
“Yes.”
“I think I… remember him. It’s like…”
“You have new memories,” I say. It’s weird. I know what the truth is. I remember more vividly than anything else the ghost boy from another room and how I fell in love with him. But there are also other memories in my mind, now. Some I can only access if I focus really hard. Of trips to school with Caleb in the car. Swimming competitions Adam only came second in. A vague crush, too, maybe. Nothing as strong as what I am feeling right now.
“Exactly.” Does that mean that Caleb has an entire other life of memories?
“How… I don’t… I…” I can’t even properly order my thoughts.
“I think it’s my fault,” he says. “I’m so sorry.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wished so hard to be able to jump to your world. I didn’t think it would happen. I didn’t mean to hijack your life like that…”
“Don’t you think I have wished for you to join me pretty much every single day for months now? And that makes me happy, but…”
“But?”
“You shouldn’t have to leave your world behind. To adapt to an entirely new life… I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“I… I think I am happier in this world…” he comments. “If my memories are real. It will take me a while to explore them, I think.”
“How is your foster home?”
“I… think I have a mother. But… I might be confusing her with Mary. It’s a lot of memories fighting each other…”
“How do you feel about this?”
“I don’t know. Happy. To be with you. To have friends. To have a family. A bit sad for Mary. She’ll probably think I ran away. Foster children regularly do. A bit scared, too.”
“Yeah, it’s probably a lot to take in.”
“No, not that. I’m scared this won’t be forever.”
We help each other up, and I cup his face as he did mine before. “We can’t know that. So we should make the most of what we have.”
“How?”
“Two things. The second is going on a date. Tomorrow?”
“I think I’d like that. And the first one?”
“Doing a bit more of this,” I say, getting even closer. He doesn’t hesitate before kissing me back. I am happy, scared, thrilled, guilty, amazed… Is that what it feels like to have all your dreams come true?
There is a knock on my door. We jump apart right as Adam comes in, and he freezes for a second or two, looking confused. And that terrifies me. He needs to recognize Caleb. Because I need him to have a place in this world.
“What are you two doing?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I reply.
“Ah-ha. If you say so. Cal, I was looking for you. Your mom is there.”
I feel Caleb tense next to me. Time for him to jump into this life he knows nothing about. I turn to him, and he looks nothing but determined. Gosh, he is so impressive. I would be freaking out so bad right now. I kind of already am, actually.
ㅤ
Caleb
ㅤ
I follow this boy I don’t know but already love like a best friend downstairs. This is the house I am used to, lived in by different people. The colors of the walls, the pictures, the furniture, even the railings… it’s all completely different. Adam stops me halfway down the stairs and asks, “Look, man, it’s cool either way, but… did I interrupt something just now? Is there something between you and my brother?”
“I… I think so, yeah.”
“Okay. Cool. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Wouldn’t it be weird?”
“It would totally be weird, but as your best friend, it’s my job to listen, so I’ll pretend in my head that you’re talking about someone else.”
I smile. “Maybe later.”
“Okay. Hum… so if you break each other’s hearts… which one of you do I need to beat up?”
I laugh. Yes. I can totally see how he is my best friend. “That settles it then. We have to live happily ever after.”
“Caleb, hurry up, we’re late.” I turn around so quickly. Because I know this voice. It’s Mary. I look at her and… she doesn’t look exactly the same as the one from the other world, but… It’s her. And here… she’s my mother.
“Sorry. I’m ready. I’m coming.”
ㅤ
On the drive home, she asks me questions about my day, which I answer in autopilot mode. I have too much to think about. Liam. What I’ve left behind. Liam. The way my body feels, as if I had swum a lot today. Liam. Those memories I never lived making their way back to my brain. Liam. How we should write down our story just in case those ‘fake’ memories take over and we forget. Liam. Our potential date tomorrow. Liam…
This is crazy. This is… almost too much to handle. But this is what I wished for. And I am way happier than freaked out.
I am almost disappointed that I won’t be able to wish Liam’s presence anymore. However, I can call him now. That’s even better. Because now he won’t disappear until one of us decides to hang up…