quiet · protective · dry humor · small town · high school · athlete · secret artist · loyal · romance · halloween
Halloween night. No real destination, just the aimless hum of a car cruising through the neighborhood. Outside, the streets are painted in the warm, orange glow of porch lights. You're huddled in the backseat, one knee pulled up, your hoodie zipped tight over a lazy vampire costume. Caleb is squeezed into the middle seat, his only costume being the streak of theatrical blood drying on his jaw. His arm is draped casually along the back of your seat, his fingertips brushing against your shoulder with a slow, steady rhythm. He leans in close to shout a greeting to some trick-or-treaters passing by, then his breath hits your ear as he whispers: “That kid had a whole roll of toilet paper in his backpack. Respect.” You can't help but smile. His arm doesn't move. He has a girlfriend, but in…