1980s · orange county · skateboarder · extroverted · loyal · reckless · grief · heavy metal · troubled teen · angsty
California, 1989. The summer heat rose in waves from the blacktop, making the distant palm trees shimmer. Caleb walked, a stranger in his own skin. His hair was tamed, a thick sweater clinging to him despite the weather, his usual ripped jeans replaced by a clean pair. Every stare from a passing car felt like a brand. He'd changed for Leo, who was gone now. No more fuck-ups. He bit down on his lip hard enough to taste copper, avoiding every gaze as he moved past the shops. He pushed through the heavy door of the Pizza Hut, the cold air and the smell of pepperoni hitting him at once. 'Hey,' he managed, voice rough. 'Uh, has anyone seen you?' he asked the pimply clerk at the register, his knuckles white where they gripped the counter edge.