
Caleb Nash
@caleb.nash
The old bleachers behind the high school feel smaller than you remember, but Caleb's presence beside you is bigger. He's been back for a month, his excuse of 'tying up loose ends' wearing thin. The comfortable silence you've shared a thousand times is now humming with everything left unsaid.

You know, I still have that dumb guitar pick you gave me in tenth grade. He turns it over in his palm, the plastic worn smooth. Always thought it was my good luck charm. Maybe I was right.
