Invisible to Being

It was practically horizontal. As in everything. The winds were gusting, bringing the rain with them. Trash cans were being hurled across the streets. Now and then, we have storms. But, for some reason, this one felt different. 

20 minutes later:

“Anu? Are you there?” a voice calls out to me from the storm. My window is been encapsulated by a dark shadow. I immediately draw the blinds and turn off the lights. Who would be at my window at this hour? Impossible. 

“Anu, it’s Caleb. From English?” Okay, this was mega creepy. I’ve probably said ten words to this kid since the sixth grade, and he knows where I live and comes to my window in the middle of a storm? 

“Anu, can you please let me in? I’m getting soaked out here,” Caleb says, a chatter taking over his usually steady voice. I pull up the blinds, grab a towel, and open the window enough for him to climb through and hand him the towel. Dripping from head to toe, Caleb stood in front of me, seeming in a lot more pain than I usually see him. Something was up, and I don’t think I had the right to question him about turning up at my house in the middle of a storm. He wipes himself dry and apologizes for getting my carpet wet. 

“Sorry for the mess- you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here-” he starts to explain, but I cut him off. He doesn’t owe me an explanation. 

“Dude, it’s okay! Are you gonna spend the night? Have you eaten dinner?” I walk over to my closet to give him some of my oversized sweats. If you had told me last week that Caleb was going to turn up at 10:00 pm and knock on my window, I would’ve said that you’ve lost your mind. 

“Yeah, I grabbed a pizza from Domino’s. Would it be okay with you and your parents if I spent the night?” he grins sheepishly. 

“We can’t tell my parents. They would freak and call yours. Unless that’s okay with you…” 

“Um, I’d rather not talk with my parents right now. It’s your call,” and I immediately know that he ran away from home. I want to ask why and act like a mother, but I know that the kid came over here for a reason. 

“You can go change- the bathroom is right there. I’ll go find myself a comforter so that I’ll be okay on the floor,” I start to make my way to the linen closet, but Caleb grabs my arm. 

“Anu, I can sleep on the floor. It’s okay. You sleep in your bed,” he says, obviously embarrassed. Not wanting to make the situation more awkward, I quietly agree and grab the comforter. By the time I set up the floor bed, Caleb is done changing. He comes out with a quiet “Ta-Da!” and jazz hands. I stifle my laughter and hand him a blanket. 

“Here. Do you need some water or anything?” I ask. Caleb quickly shakes his head, and without another word, he makes himself cozy on the floor. I feel bad, knowing that I’m making my guest sleep on the ground. I climb into my bed, the events of the night swirling in my head like a whirlpool. 

“Hey, Anu?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks. Really.”

“You’re good. You don’t need to thank me,” I reply with a smile on my lips. “Goodnight, Caleb.”

“Goodnight, Anu.”

The next morning, I wake up at 5 am as usual. My room looks spotless. The comforter, blanket, and sweats I gave Caleb are all stacked neatly in front of my bathroom. His wet towel was on my desk chair, laid out to dry. It was as if he was never there. I find a note on my desk: “Left at 3 am. Thanks for letting me stay. Call me when you get the chance,” and he left his phone number. I grab a mug of milk from the kitchen and step out onto our deck. Ringing, ringing… 

“Anu! You got my note! Are you free right now?” Caleb’s voice comes through, obviously tired but sounding much better than yesterday. 

“Yeah. Just gotta shower. Where are you?” I ask, and concern creeps through me.

“I’m at the Starbucks down the street. Can you come in ten minutes?” he asks, clearly trying not to sound desperate. I have to figure out a way to meet him there. I’m never out of the house before 7 am. School starts at 7:30. 

“Can you meet me at school at 6:30 after you grab breakfast?” I feel bad, but don’t have a choice. My teachers have office hours before the school day, so technically, I am going to school. 

“Yeah, sure. See you there,” Caleb ends the call. I’m not sure what to expect- an apology? A thank you? A heart-to-heart moment that turns increasingly awkward? I’ll have to see when I get to school. 

Even though Caleb was at a Starbucks, I’m not entirely sure if he had cash on him, so I decided to pack some Pop-Tarts. I head out the door, calling to my parents that I would be studying at school. FBI agent, if you’re watching me, it never happened. 

When I get to school, Caleb is sitting at his locker, a couple rows down from mine, with his AirPods in. I sit down next to him. 

“Hey. You good?” I try not to sound like his mom. It’s probably the last thing he needs. I hand him the now-cold Pop-Tarts. 

“Yeah. Thanks. Hey- listen. I’m sorry about yesterday. My parents were in this huge fight, and I couldn’t stand listening to them as if nothing had happened. I’m not sure if you knew, but we’ve been on the same bus since 6th grade. Your house is closest, so I decided to crash there,” Caleb explains, tears filling his eyes. I can’t imagine what it feels like- to know that you can’t feel welcome in your own home. I can’t respond with words. 

“I’m here for you, okay? You can call me or even knock on my window at 1 am. I got you,” and I rest my head on his shoulder and give him a hug. He clasps my hand as if it’s the last thing afloat in his life. 

Two friends: once invisible, now it's them against the world. Together.