When he's just a breath away, I close my eyes tightly and turn my head away.

Caleb pulls away, so I open my eyes. He chuckles as he faces me in amusement.

Anger boils up inside me. "Everything is a game to you, isn't it?"

He blinks. "Would you rather it was real?" he asks. He even has the nerve to look innocent.

"You jerk!" I grab my pillow and throw it at him.

He grins as it lands on his head. Why does he have to be so annoying? I hate it when he plays around, as if nothing can ever make him serious.

Caleb raises his hand and is in the act of throwing the pillow back at me.

"Get out of here!" I yell.

I thought he wanted to take care of me? His actions are only making my condition worse. Instead of helping, he's irritating me.

"I was just trying to make you laugh," he says, raising both hands in surrender. "You're so tensed."

"Stop it already, you're making my head hurt!"

He scratches the back of his head and mumbles an apology. The nerve of this guy to joke around when I'm in a bad condition; I'll get back at him when I get better.

"Seriously though," he says, interrupting my plot against him, "we have all day. What do you want to do?"

"You can go out now," I say, "I can take care of myself."

Caleb pouts. "Don't be angry!" He looks at me under his eyelashes.

I roll my eyes at him. "If you think you can persuade me by trying to look cute, just go away. I won't be affected by your charm."

He grins. "Are you not, really?" He clears his throat and stares at me. "I'm sorry," he says seriously. "Will you let me take care of you?" When I don't respond, he adds, "Please?"

I sigh. "Fine," I mutter.

He smiles. "Thanks!"

"But if you make fun of me again, I'll throw you out."

He smiles amusedly and then says, "Are you hungry?"

"No," I answer.

"Margarett left some food," he says.

"I said I'm not hungry," I say wryly.

"If you're not game to do something, and you don't want to eat, then let me ask you a question."

"What do you want to know?"

"What's your favorite childhood memory?" he asks.

"I don't remember much of my childhood."

"You don't?" he asks.

It's the truth because I can only recall bits of what happened in the past. Actually, most of my time in the orphanage is long forgotten. I don't even remember my friends' faces.

Even Alex's.

I can't go there.

Blinking my eyes, I see Caleb staring at the top of my head.

"What are you looking at?" I ask.

He moves closer to me and grabs a piece of my hair. "Look," he says in amazement, "you have blonde hair."

My eyes widen at what he said. I push him away, and run my fingers through my hair.

Caleb frowns. "How is that possible? You're black haired."

My heart beats furiously in my chest. He can't know. I've been keeping this secret for a long time now. Of course I have blonde hair because I was born with it. I just dyed my hair black. Maybe because I've been busy and preoccupied for the past couple of months, I forgot to color it again.

Caleb can't know my secret. No one has to find out about the past I've been trying to forget. Now I understand why I don't recall much of what happened when I was a child. It's because I willed myself to forget it. My mind rewired itself so I won't have to experience the pain again.

I swallow the lump in my throat, but my tongue still sticks at the roof of my teeth. My hands are shaking so I hide them using my blanket.

No, no, no. I need to think quickly. I won't let anyone—

"Annalise!"

Looking up, I see Caleb with a puzzled expression on his face. He shouldn't linger on that thought.

"Forget it," I say, trying to come up with a valid reason why he found a piece of blonde hair in my crown of black hair. I hope he won't notice that my voice is shaking. "It must be a genetic failure."

He raises his eyebrow. "So that means one of your parents is black haired, while the other is blonde," he says matter-of-factly.

I shrug. I realize too late that it's a wrong move when Caleb asks, "Where are your parents?"

I want to slap myself for bringing this situation. When did I become so careless? No one asked me that question before, so I didn't have to use my made-up story. Now the situation calls for it.

"They're dead," I say.

I expected him to say "sorry" because that's what people usually say when they ask an uncomfortable question.

Caleb surprises me again when he asks, "How did they die?"

I forgot about his inquiring nature. He can't be categorized; he'll never fit in a single group because his personality is very different from the norm.

"They died in a car accident when I was young," I answer. When you lie, make it short and simple.
I learned that when you put more details to your story, there will be more plot hole, and I need to be safe.

"How old were you then?"

"Eleven," I reply. Another lie, of course. That's my age when Margarett found me.

"So Margarett is your. . .?" he trails off questioningly.

"She's the sister of my dad," I answer. "She's the only relative I have."

I'm a very good liar. Margarett and I created this explanation a few weeks after we met. It's basic that people will ask questions, so we came prepared.

As a matter of fact, I don't know much about Margarett's past. She dodges my questions every time I ask. The only thing I know is that she bought this house a week before she found me, and that she doesn't have relatives in the five hundred mile radius. So we're safe. We can't let anyone know our secret.

Caleb looks thoughtful for a moment, and I find it refreshing that he's not asking questions.

When he's still silent a couple of minutes later, I touch his arm.

He jerks upright and blinks his eyes. It's not every day that I catch him off guard.

Time to turn the tables around. "You were daydreaming," I tease.

"I thought you were. . ." he trails off.

"What?"

He shakes his head slowly, as if in a daze. "Nothing."

"What is it?" I repeat.

Something flashes in his eyes. "Did you just tease me a while ago?" he asks amusedly.

"So?" I raise my eyebrow.

"Why, do you want to kiss me because you caught me daydreaming?"

"No!" I snap, my cheeks flaming.

He smirks. "Just say the word and I'll initiate the deed."

"Shut up!"

Why does he have to be like this? One second he's serious, and then the next he's playing a joke on me. I really hate the flirty side of him. He makes it hard to for me to not think about him that way.

But the good side of it is that he drops the topic about my non-existent parents. I let out the breath I didn't I was holding. I need to be careful. I don't want to get caught.

Caleb asks me again if I already thought of an activity I want to do.

"I just want to sleep."

"Are you sleepy?" he asks, brushing the hair from his eyes.

"No, I just want you to leave me alone."

"You're boring."

"Thank you," I say sarcastically.

"What's your favorite movie?" he asks.

Where is he taking the conversation? "I don't have a favorite movie because I haven't finished a movie yet."

"What?" he asks incredulously. "Why?"

"Because I'd rather read than watch a movie," I say as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Caleb gapes at me and looks at me as if he's seeing me for the first time.

"What?" I ask uneasily.

"You're peculiar."

"Is that bad?" I ask.

For me, what other people think doesn't matter. At this moment though, it's different.

Caleb is different.

Something changes in his expression. I don't know if it's my imagination, but his eyes suddenly become brighter.

"No," Caleb says, "It only means that you are special." He leans down and plants a kiss on my forehead.

~*~*~*~*~

I know this is still short. I'll try to make the next one longer. :)

The song for the chapter is Heartbeat by The Fray

I hope you liked it <3

P.S.

Alex, Caleb, or Daniel? :)