Becoming Grey: Episode 10

Chapter Ten 

October 20, 2017 | Friday Evening 

In the  weeks since the Thomas Game, Callie had learned several things about dating Myles. 

He was a better kisser than Madden player, which was fortunate for him because he remained absolutely convinced that every loss could somehow be traced to controller lag, questionable officiating, or Callie abusing plays that the game itself had willingly provided her. He stole fries without asking and considered I was only taking one a legitimate defense even after the third or fourth theft. He had strong opinions about games nobody else cared about and could explain those opinions with the confidence of someone delivering testimony before Congress. 

And Maggie had become completely unbearable about having called the whole thing before Callie had. 

Not that Callie had ever admitted Maggie was right. 

There were principles involved. 

“I’m just saying,” Maggie said over lunch on Friday, peeling the wrapper from the straw of her chocolate milk with the slow satisfaction of someone who already knew she had won the argument, “some people notice things.” 

Callie looked up from her tray. “You saw a boy talk to me twice.” 

“I saw the way he talked to you.” 

Across from them, Luke stopped fighting with a bag of chips long enough to glance between the two girls. “Are we seriously doing this again?” 

“We never stopped doing this,” Callie said. 

Beside her, Myles made the mistake of smiling. 

Callie turned toward him immediately. “Don’t encourage her.” 

Myles’s expression became innocent with suspicious speed. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“You’re smiling.” 

“I’m allowed to smile.” 

“Not at this.” 

Maggie leaned her elbows onto the table. “See? This is what I mean.” 

Callie looked back at her. “What does that even mean?” 

“He listens to you.” 

Luke finally ripped open the chips. “I listen to Callie.” 

“No, you don’t,” three voices answered at once. 

Luke froze with a chip halfway to his mouth. 

He looked offended. “That felt unnecessary.” 

Callie laughed and reached for another fry. 

Her fingers found cardboard. 

She stopped. 

The carton had been nearly half full thirty seconds earlier. 

Slowly, Callie turned her head. 

Myles was chewing. 

He saw her looking. 

His chewing slowed. 

“What?” 

Callie held up the empty carton between two fingers. 

Myles glanced at it. “You finished them.” 

“I did not.” 

“I saw you eating them.” 

“I had two.” 

Myles thought about that. “Maybe three.” 

“Myles.” 

“I was helping.” 

Callie stared at him. “Helping me do what?” 

“Not eat too many fries.” 

Maggie made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh disguised as a cough. 

Callie pointed across the table without taking her eyes off Myles. “You stay out of this.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“That seems to be everybody’s defense today.” 

Myles reached toward Luke’s tray. 

Luke immediately slapped his hand away. 

“Dude.” 

Myles withdrew. “Wow.” 

“You have your own lunch.” 

“I finished mine.” 

“That sounds like a personal problem.” 

Callie leaned closer to Myles. “So did stealing mine.” 

He gave her a small smile. “You still like me.” 

“That’s becoming less certain by the minute.” 

Maggie watched the entire exchange with such smug satisfaction that Callie considered throwing something at her. 

That was more or less how the past few weeks had gone. 

There had never been a moment when Myles sat Callie down and asked whether she wanted to be his girlfriend. There had been no announcement, no awkward negotiation of terms, no sudden transformation from one thing into another. They had simply kept spending time together after the night of the West game until, at some point, everyone around them had apparently decided they were dating. 

Callie supposed everyone was right. 

Myles sat with them at lunch now. He texted her most evenings, sometimes about homework, sometimes about games, and occasionally about nothing more substantial than a picture of something ridiculous he had found online. Callie had started stopping at Games Galore after school even when she had no intention of buying anything. Myles had started appearing at Grey’s General Store with suspicious frequency and purchasing bottles of Coke he could have bought practically anywhere in Ridgemont. 

They had kissed several times. The first time was a few days after the west game. By now there was something easier about it. She still noticed every time Myles reached for her hand, but she no longer spent half an hour afterward trying to determine whether reaching back had somehow revealed too much. 

Mostly, she had stopped trying to define everything. She liked him. He liked her. For the moment, that seemed like enough. More importantly, Callie was happy. 

Not in some enormous life-changing way. Nothing had suddenly become perfect. Hannah was still irritating. Grey’s still expected Callie to work on weekends. Chemistry homework continued to exist despite Callie’s personal objections. Her Raspberry Pi project still had an intermittent sensor problem that refused to explain itself. 

But there was a simple pleasure in looking down at her phone and seeing Myles’s name. There was something good about walking into lunch and knowing he would probably already be there. Something even better about catching him looking at her, then watching him pretend he had not been. 

It was new and Callie liked new. By seven that evening, Grey’s General Store had gone quiet enough for her to start watching the clock. 

Outside, October darkness pressed against the front windows, reflecting the fluorescent aisles back at her in long pale rectangles. The refrigeration cases hummed along the rear wall. Somewhere near produce, the automatic misters came on with a sudden hiss. Callie stood behind the register with her chin resting against one hand, pretending to organize receipts while checking the time every few minutes. 

7:11. 

She looked toward the entrance. 

Nothing. 

At 7:13, an elderly man came through the automatic doors for milk and bananas. 

At 7:16, a woman Callie vaguely recognized from church bought cat food. 

At 7:18, the doors opened again. 

Myles walked in. 

Callie straightened before she could stop herself. 

His eyes found her almost immediately. 

A smile spread across his face. 

“You were waiting.” 

Callie narrowed her eyes. “I was working.” 

“You were looking at the door.” 

“The register faces the door.” 

“That doesn’t mean you have to stare at it.” 

“I wasn’t staring.” 

Myles stepped up to the counter. “So if I’d come in five minutes later, you wouldn’t have noticed?” 

“I would’ve noticed because I would have had to ring you up.” 

“Right.” 

Callie leaned closer. “Go buy something.” 

His eyebrows lifted. “That’s how Grey’s treats customers now?” 

“Special customers.” 

Myles smiled at that, then wandered toward the coolers. He returned less than a minute later carrying a bottle of Coke. 

Callie looked at the bottle. 

Then at him. 

“Again?” 

“I’m thirsty.” 

“You bought a Coke yesterday.” 

Myles placed it on the counter. “And then I drank it.” 

Callie scanned the bottle. “Amazing how that works.” 

He handed her three dollars. 

Before she could count out his change, Stuart emerged from aisle three carrying a cardboard display box against one hip. 

“Myles.” 

Myles turned around. “Hey, Mr. Grey.” 

Stuart stopped long enough to adjust the box. “Your parents busy tonight?” 

“Yeah. They’ve got tournaments going at the store.” 

“Cards?” 

“Magic mostly. D&D group in the back too.” 

Stuart nodded, clearly understanding only enough to know that games were involved. “Tell them I said hello.” 

“I will.” 

Stuart’s attention dropped to the bottle of Coke on the counter. 

Then he looked at Callie. 

“Is that all he bought?” 

Callie smiled immediately. 

Myles looked between them. “Why does that sound accusatory?” 

Stuart continued toward the stockroom. “Because it’s the third time this week you’ve come in for one Coke.” 

“Dad.” 

“I’m just observing.” 

Myles watched him disappear around the corner, then turned back toward Callie. 

“You told him?” 

Callie handed him his change. “I didn’t have to tell him anything.” 

“I legitimately like Coke.” 

“So do thousands of people. Most of them don’t drive across town to buy it here.” 

Myles dropped the coins into the charity jar beside the register. “Your family is judgmental.” 

“You haven’t even dealt with Hannah.” 

The universe, apparently amused by Callie’s arrogance, chose that exact moment to send Hannah through the stockroom door. She had a coloring book tucked beneath one arm. Her eyes landed on Myles. Callie knew immediately what was coming. 

“Hannah.” 

Her sister stopped. 

Then smiled. 

“Is this your boyfriend?” 

Myles looked at Callie. 

Callie closed her eyes for one second. “Go away.” 

Hannah ignored that completely. “It is, isn’t it?” 

“Hannah.” 

“What?” 

“Mom needs you.” 

“No she doesn’t.” 

“She might.” 

Hannah looked at Myles again. “Callie talks about you.” 

Callie nearly dropped the receipt roll. 

“I do not.” 

“You do too.” 

Myles’s eyebrows rose. 

Callie pointed toward the stockroom. “Leave.” 

Hannah began backing away, clearly delighted with herself. “She does.” 

“I swear to God.” 

Her sister disappeared through the swinging door, laughing. 

Callie waited until the door stopped moving before looking back at Myles. 

He was smiling. 

She immediately pointed at him too. “No.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“You’re about to.” 

“So you talk about me.” 

“Myles.” 

“How much?” 

“Go outside.” 

He laughed. “I’m just asking.” 

“You have sixteen minutes until I get off.” 

“I’ll wait.” 

“You can wait outside.” 

Myles picked up his Coke. “You’re mean.” 

“You keep coming back.” 

He began walking toward the exit. 

Callie watched him for a second before calling after him. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” 

Myles stopped and Callie instantly regretted speaking. He turned around very slowly. The smile that appeared on his face was intolerable. 

Callie pointed toward the doors. “Outside.” 

He lifted both hands. “I’m going.” 

“Now.” 

“Sixteen minutes.” 

Callie shook her head as the doors opened and swallowed him into the dark parking lot. 

When she turned back, Stuart was standing at the end of aisle three. 

He wore exactly the same expression Myles had. 

“Oh my God.” 

Stuart immediately vanished around the corner. 

Twenty minutes later, Callie emerged from Grey’s with her backpack slung over one shoulder and found Myles sitting next to his bicycle on a nearby bench store lights. 

“You waited.” Callie said 

“I said I would.” 

“You could’ve gone home.” 

“I could’ve.” Myles responded 

Callie approached him. “Instead you sat in a grocery store parking lot for twenty minutes.” 

“Sixteen.” 

“Twenty.” 

“You were late.” 

Callie stopped in front of him. “Some would say perfectly on time.” 

Myles laughed. “That doesn’t work when you’re leaving work.” 

“It works whenever I decide it works.” 

He reached for her hand. Callie gave it to him without thinking. They walked to his house beneath a cold, clear October sky, the neighborhoods quieter now than they had been after the Thomas Game. Bare branches rattled lightly whenever the wind moved through them. Porch lights dotted the streets in warm yellow pools, and somewhere several houses away someone was burning leaves despite the city ordinance against it. 

Luke and Maggie were already at Myles’s when they arrived. 

For the next two hours, any possibility of romance was successfully murdered by four player Mario Kart, frozen pizza, and Luke’s increasingly elaborate explanations for why every race he lost did not technically count. 

When Maggie finally stood to leave a little after nine thirty, she tugged her jacket on near the front door and glanced toward Callie. 

“You coming?” 

Callie looked toward the living room. “In a little bit.” 

Maggie’s eyebrows lifted. 

Callie saw it immediately. “Don’t.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“You were going to.” 

“I was going to say have fun.” 

“That sounded weird already.” 

Maggie smiled. “It was two words.” 

“You made them weird.” 

Maggie leaned closer. “Text me tomorrow.” 

“I text you every day.” 

“Tomorrow.” 

Callie shoved lightly at her shoulder. “Go home.” 

Maggie laughed and stepped outside. 

Luke lasted another fifteen minutes before his brother texted that he was waiting at the curb. He left while still arguing that Rainbow Road was badly designed, his voice fading down the front steps until Myles shut the door behind him. 

The house changed after that. 

Not dramatically. 

Nothing actually happened. 

It simply became quieter. 

The noise Luke carried with him disappeared. Maggie’s laughter was gone. The television still glowed in the living room, Mario Kart music looping softly through the speakers, but suddenly Callie could hear the furnace kick on somewhere beneath them. 

Myles looked at her. 

Callie looked back. 

“Well,” he said. 

She raised an eyebrow. “Well what?” 

“My parents probably won’t be back until eleven.” 

Callie smiled immediately. 

Myles saw it and shook his head. “That was not a suggestion.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“You made the face.” 

“What face?” 

“The one you make right before you ruin my life.” 

Callie laughed and followed him back toward the sofa. 

The remains of the evening covered the coffee table. Paper plates held forgotten pizza crusts. Empty soda cans had gathered beside the remote. Controllers sat abandoned between couch cushions. 

Callie dropped into the corner of the sofa. 

Myles sat beside her. 

Closer than he would have a month ago. 

That had become ordinary too. 

“You want to play something else?” he asked. 

Callie looked at the television. “Not really.” 

“We could watch a movie.” 

She turned toward him. 

Myles immediately pointed at her. “No.” 

Callie’s mouth twitched. “What?” 

“I know exactly what you’re about to do.” 

“I wasn’t going to do anything.” 

“You absolutely were.” 

“There are rules now?” Myles stared at her. 

Callie laughed. “That sounded familiar.” 

“You steal everything.” 

“Only the good stuff.” Callie retorted. They settled into the cushions, and the conversation wandered the way conversations did when neither person was particularly concerned with where it went. 

Callie complained about chemistry. Myles told her about a man who had spent nearly an hour at Games Galore explaining why modern Pokémon cards were destroying society. They argued about whether Luke actually believed his own stories or simply committed to them so thoroughly that truth became irrelevant. 

Eventually Myles asked about the project Callie had mentioned earlier in the week. 

“The cage thing?” 

Callie gave him a look. “Enclosure.” 

“Right. The definitely not a cage.” 

“It isn’t for anything.” 

“I know.” 

She tucked one leg beneath herself. “The servo works now.” 

“So what’s broken?” 

“The sensor.” 

Myles glanced toward her. “How?” 

“That’s the annoying part. I don’t know.” Callie leaned back, looking toward the ceiling as if the answer might be hiding there. “It keeps getting false positives. I’ll walk away from it and it triggers anyway.” 

“Could it be seeing something else?” 

“I’ve checked everything around it.” 

“What kind of sensor?” 

“Infrared.” 

Myles thought for a second. “Could the bars be reflecting it?” 

Callie stopped. 

She turned toward him. 

Myles looked uncertain. “What?” 

“The bars.” 

“Was that stupid?” 

“No.” 

She sat forward. 

Actually, that could make sense. 

Callie grabbed her phone from the coffee table and opened her notes. 

“If it’s bouncing between the bars at the right angle, it could be reading its own reflection.” 

Myles watched her type. “So I fixed it?” 

“Let’s not get arrogant.” 

“But maybe.” 

“Maybe.” 

He smiled. 

Callie finished the note and realized he was still watching her. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” 

“You’re staring.” 

“You get really excited about this stuff.” 

Callie looked down at her phone. “So?” 

“I like it.” 

She glanced at him again. 

Myles shrugged. “You talk faster.” 

“I do not.” 

“You do.” 

“No.” 

“You absolutely do.” 

Callie grabbed the nearest couch pillow and threw it at him. 

Myles caught it. 

“You do.” 

“Give me that.” 

He held it away. 

Callie leaned across him. 

“Myles.” 

“Ask nicely.” 

“Give it back.” 

“That was terrible.” 

She reached again. 

Myles moved the pillow farther. 

Callie lunged. 

He laughed, and she finally caught the edge of it, pulling it back toward herself. 

Then neither of them moved. 

The pillow remained trapped awkwardly between them. 

Myles was close. 

Much closer than he had been a second earlier. 

Callie could see the tiny change in his expression as the joke faded. His smile softened. His attention shifted from the pillow to her. 

She felt her own smile disappear too. 

Myles kissed her. 

There was no surprise in it anymore, though the feeling still seemed capable of rearranging Callie’s thoughts with irritating efficiency. 

She kissed him back. 

The pillow slipped from between them and landed silently on the carpet. Their lips remained locked as their breathing got heavier. The couch creaked as the bodies of Callie and Myles moved awkwardly. Neither was experienced or had done this before.  In their minds it would be like a movie smooth and romantic, but instead it was uncoordinated and fast but to the two teens who had never done anything like this before it felt magical.  

When they separated, Myles stayed close enough that Callie could still feel the warmth of him. 

He smiled. 

“What?” she asked. 

“Nothing.” 

“You’re doing that thing again.” 

“What thing?” 

“Looking pleased with yourself.” 

“I’m not.” 

“You are.” 

Myles laughed quietly. 

Callie kissed him again, partly because she wanted to and partly because it was an effective way to stop him from talking. 

Afterward, they stayed close. 

The television cast slow blue light over the room. Outside, a gust of wind brushed dry leaves against the front windows. 

Myles rested his forehead lightly against hers.  

“You okay?” 

Callie nodded. 

“Yeah.” 

He stayed where he was as Callie finished putting her hoodie back on. 

There was something in the pause that Callie understood without either of them needing to explain it. The evening had become quieter than she expected. More private. Callie liked being there with him. She trusted him. She liked the way he looked at her when he was not trying to be funny. She liked having nowhere else she needed to be for another hour. But something in her hesitated. Not fear, just enough uncertainty to matter. Callie pulled back slightly. The room felt different now, quieter in a way that made it easier to think. 

Her stomach tightened. 

What had she just done? 

Not because she didn’t like Myles. She did. That was almost the problem. Everything had happened so quickly that she had barely stopped to think about any of it. 

Her parents would kill her. 

“Maybe we should slow down,” she said. “That was maybe too much, too fast.” 

Myles nodded almost immediately. “Okay.” 

She searched his face. That was it. No irritation. No disappointment disguised as a joke. Just okay. 

“You sure?” 

Myles gave her a look. “Callie.” 

“What?” 

“I like you.” 

She smiled. 

“That was gross.” 

“What?” 

“Way too sincere.” 

Myles laughed. “Sorry.” 

“You should be.” 

He reached for the remote. 

“Actual movie?” 

Callie settled against his shoulder. “Maybe.” 

“Is that safe to say now?” 

“No guarantees.” 

They found something neither of them cared enough about to argue over and watched perhaps half of it. By the time Callie checked her phone again, it was nearly eleven so Myles walked her home. 

The temperature had dropped far enough that their breath occasionally showed beneath the streetlights. Callie tucked one hand into the front pocket of her hoodie and left the other in Myles’s. 

They took almost the same route they had after the football game three weeks earlier. 

Callie noticed the resemblance somewhere near Pine Street. 

The same sidewalks. 

The same dark houses. 

The same yellow pools of light beneath the streetlamps. 

But the walk felt completely different. 

That first night she had become aware of their joined hands halfway home and spent the rest of the walk pretending she had not. 

Tonight Myles had taken her hand before they made it past his driveway. 

She had barely noticed. 

“You know Maggie thinks she created this,” Callie said. 

Myles looked over. “Created what?” 

She gestured vaguely between them. 

“Oh.” He smiled. “She kind of did.” 

Callie stopped walking. 

Their joined hands pulled Myles back half a step. 

“No.” 

“What?” 

“Never say that to her.” 

Myles laughed. “Why?” 

“Because I have to live with her being right.” 

“You don’t live with Maggie.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“She did call it.” 

Callie started walking again. “Luke introduced us.” 

“So Luke created us.” 

“That’s even worse.” 

Myles laughed. 

They walked another block before he squeezed her hand lightly. 

“Tonight was nice.” 

Callie glanced toward him. “Yeah.” 

“Even after you rejected my movie advances.” 

She turned her head. “You are never letting that go.” 

“Never.” 

“I knew what you meant.” 

“You made me suffer anyway.” 

“You survived.” 

“Barely.” 

Callie smiled. 

The Grey house appeared at the end of the block, the porch light casting a pale circle over the front steps. 

Neither of them seemed particularly interested in walking faster. 

When they finally reached the driveway, Myles stopped. 

“Text me when you’re inside?” 

Callie looked at the house. 

Then back at him. 

“You’re literally going to watch me walk through the door.” 

“Still.” 

“That makes no sense.” 

“Humor me.” 

Callie leaned forward and kissed him quickly. 

Myles blinked. 

“There.” 

“That wasn’t what I asked.” 

“Good night, Myles.” 

He smiled. “Night, Grey.” 

Callie took several backward steps toward the house. 

“You’re a loser.” 

“You like me.” 

“Debatable.” 

Myles laughed. 

Callie turned before he could say anything else and crossed the yard. 

Inside, the house was nearly dark. 

The television played quietly in the living room, where Stuart sat reclined in his chair with one socked foot hanging over the side. Some old episode of The X-Files flickered across the screen. 

He looked over as Callie slipped out of her shoes. 

“You’re late.” 

“I know.” 

“Have fun?” 

Callie glanced toward him. 

There was nothing suspicious in the question. 

No interrogation. 

Just her father, half asleep in front of the television. 

“Yeah.” 

Stuart nodded. “Your mom went upstairs.” 

“Okay.” 

“Hannah finally went to bed.” 

Callie looked toward the ceiling. “Miracles happen.” 

Her father smiled tiredly. “Night, Cal.” 

“Night, Dad.” 

She climbed the stairs. 

Her bedroom looked exactly as it had when she left. 

Textbooks remained scattered across the desk. A chemistry worksheet waited beside her laptop. The wire enclosure sat in one corner surrounded by jumper wires and components, its Raspberry Pi still mounted temporarily against the frame. 

Nothing about the room suggested anything important had happened. 

Callie dropped her backpack beside the desk and connected her phone to the charger. 

It buzzed before she could set it down. 

Myles: home? 

Callie smiled. 

Callie: literally just walked inside 

The typing bubble appeared immediately. 

Myles: good 

 

 

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