The Day He Confesses

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Callaway (Cale) Radke is the son of a powerful Mall CEO. Cale likes someone, namely, a girl named Fae Brooks (she's weird) and Cale KNOWS that his father would never allow it. Cale has never ever talked to anyone other than his tutors, maids, his dad, and Fae. The girl he likes has always been there for him and loves his art skill- something his dad doesn't like- for what it is.
Hopefully, Cale's dad will let them go out. Probably not, but Cale prays anyway. Then, there's the matter of whether or not Fae would reciprocate his feelings.

Submitted: February 18, 2014

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Submitted: February 18, 2014

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The Day He Confesses

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I remember the first day I met her. We had both been seven years old, and she had been sitting on the edge of the stream by my house- sitting there and thinking, looking up at the sky and smiling to herself.

Looking through the window at her, I'd watch. The scene had been so beautiful and my fingers had itched to paint it. But my paints had been locked up and my dad had lectured me about how, in the future, I'd be the CEO of Radke Mall. He wanted me to learn about business and complicated math- but that stuff didn't interest me. It never had, and never will. I was more into art and I loved playing the piano.

When I first saw her sitting on the stream, my love for art only increased. The sunlight would make her brown hair shine and when she moved, I felt like my heart would too.

So I went out to meet her, the seventeenth time she came. I wasn't supposed to go out of the house (only when my tutor would tell me to go outside and exercise) so I had to climb out through my window secretively.

She had looked at me with her warm, brown, bambi-like eyes and smiled. I knew then that she'd be my first friend and after asking her, it turned out I was her only friend too.

Fae Brooks. That was her name, that girl. We were friends from that moment on and slowly, over the years, she became someone extremely important to me. She encouraged me to continue art, despite what my father would always say.

“Your daddy doesn't want you to do something you love?” she had asked, tilting her head in curiosity. “Why? If you love it, he should love it too.”

On that day, and later on, I found that I couldn't function without her. I realized that, weirdly, I would have been driven into craziness long ago if it weren't for her.

I love her. But my dad... I don't think he'd allow it.

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“Cale?” a familiar voice whispered. “I'm here.”

Taking swift, calm, steps towards my high floor-to-ceiling window, I unlocked the locks and pushed it open.

Pale fingers touched the bottom sills. I reached out and gently took them in my hands, stepping back twice, and pulling her up into my room.

Fae climbed gracefully inside, wearing a white summers' dress, topped with a wide-brimmed straw hat; her long brown hair tucked into a bun at the base of her neck. She looked beautiful today- well, she always did, actually.

“Hey Fae,” I greeted. She greeted me back as she settled herself on my bed. I walk over to my desk. Sliding the canvas out of the skinny space between wall and table, I hefted it and lightly trotted over to her.

Her warm brown eyes lightened. “Your new painting?” she asked clapping her hands gently. We didn't want any of the maids to overhear any funny noises or they'd come running. There was hardly any place to hide Fae in my room and it'd be awkward to be caught with a girl sitting on my bed.

Plus, it wasn't allowed. No friends, my father always told me. They'd hinder me in my future. He had told me once that he'd arrange a suitable wife for me one day- and I'd have a son, who I'd raise just like my dad had raised me.

Ha ha, no. Since I was little, I've made the decision that I wouldn't do that. I was now sixteen years old- a rebellious age, people say, and let's just say I'm going to go with that.

I held up the wide canvas and watched as Fae's eyes grew wide. She gasped in awe.

“Amazing!” she said, smiling happily. I grinned proudly at her and looked down at my artwork.

The scene was a cabin in the woods. Great, big, spruce trees dominated the background, and tall grasses grew in the yard. A little well was present in the small yard, and the bright sunlight indicated that it was morning in the painting. I'd painted everything with a mix of colours- something that Fae loved. She claimed that the colours 'moved', which is a little scary but beautiful at the same time.

I turned my attention back to Fae, who stared at me with admiration in her eyes. My heart skipped a beat and my face flushed.

“What is it? Is there something on my face?”

Hurriedly, I rushed to brush whatever it was off my right cheek but Fae laughed, reached up, and took my hand- I almost fainted.

“No,” she said, smiling so beautifully, it was all I could do from staring at her like an idiot. “I like watching your expression when you look at your paintings. It's like how a mother would look when she watches her baby walk for the first time.”

Her voice and words melted into me. Grinning, I looked at the painting and back at her.

“Really?” I asked, winking. “Do you like this face?”

I made a completely random face, succeeding in making her laugh. My heart flew to the moon as the sound filled my ears.

For the next two hours, we talked about our day. Fae's father was a carpenter in the next town over and her mother was a kindergarten teacher. Fae, like me, was also home schooled. She didn't have a lot of friends, which I could relate with but it wasn't because her parents didn't allow it. In fact, they highly encouraged her to go and talk to people. But Fae always daydreamed. She's an airhead, I'd admit that, and if no one understood what kind of world Fae lived in, then they would have a hard time talking to her.

I told her about this morning: about how my father had talked about his sales rate and how many people he had fired the previous day. His talk of the business bored the living daylights out of me and I was eating breakfast too. My cereal had tasted bland as I was forced to listen to my dad; answering back on what I thought about things.

“Your dad's ambitious,” Fae noted for the hundredth time. “Maybe you should show him your art and how you play piano and violin, Cale.”

I've never showed dad my talent before. Just thinking about it made me want to shiver; he'd rip up my canvases and tear apart my keyboard and violin. My previous tutor had secretly purchased them for me and when my dad found out, he had fired her; I was able to keep my instruments safe though. Sure, he'd hide my paints but he wouldn't hide them personally- he had the maids do it. My dad had never seen me do what I loved before, and I planned to keep it that way.

“No, I won't,” I told her again for the hundredth time. “He'll kill my materials, and then me.”

“I doubt it,” Fae said, placing her hands lightly on her lap. “It sounds to me like he loves you very much.”

“He does,” I answered, running my hands through my hair and smiling faintly. “I love him too, but he's just really strict.”

“What father isn't?” she questioned me and I shrugged.

“You never know,” I said and tapped her lightly on the nose. “You've gotta go now, missy. My tutor's coming in soon.”

Fae smiled at me and my soul melted. She stood up and walked over to the window, once again climbing out.

“See you,” she whispered to me. I waved and smiled as she dropped out of sight.

I leaned out of the window at Fae, five feet below me. “Tomorrow at five in the afternoon?” I asked, grinning. “I'll have a treat for you.”

“I don't need a treat to come, Cale,” Fae answered, laughing gently. “Just ask. I'll definitely come though.”

She gave me one more happy smile as she skipped off my yard. She trotted across the street to where the stream was, and walked away down the sidewalk. I propped an elbow on the sills as I watched her go. Really, Fae. Just watching you walk makes me feel like dying.

Out of the corner of my eye, something moved. I turned my head to look at one of the nearest oak trees but nothing was there.

I shrugged and pulled back into my room, closing the windows. Probably my imagination, that. In the meantime, I was looking forward to tomorrow. My feelings for Fae couldn't be ignored- that bubbly, weird girl. Confident, I smiled. I was going to confess to her tomorrow.

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The next day, after my Maths tutoring lesson, I looked out my window. It was odd- Fae would usually be here by now. My tutor had left thirty minutes ago and by this time, Fae would usually be sitting under the window waiting.

But she wasn't there.

I laid back onto my bed and stared at the painting that I had just taken out a few minutes ago. It was a picture of Fae- her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulder and she wore the usual white dress that she often wore. I had been working on this for many weeks and now, I had finally finished.

Today's the day. I'm going to confess... even if my dad doesn't allow it. I'll date her secretly, if she'd agree.

Minutes turned into another two hours as I waited. By then, I was almost asleep.

Until my door banged open.

Sitting up with a jolt, I yanked out the closest thing next to me (which was a glue stick; as to why there's one on my bed, don't ask) and flung it at the door thinking, Robber! It's a robber!

The glue stick flew across the room in a high arc, almost taking out my dad's eye. He dodged it by leaning back and the glue stick fell off my bedroom wall harmlessly. My dad stood there and raised an eyebrow at me, looking smart and tall in a black business suit.

My mother had left my father years ago for another man. Before that, she had always told me that I looked like my dad: we both had black hair and blue eyes, olive-toned skin, and high cheekbones.

My dad's eyebrow twitched a little. “What are you doing?”

“Uh,” I said, awkwardly, “sorry. I thought you were a robber for a second.”

My dad's lips twitched with amusement. “It's good to know you're prepared for that sort of situation, Callaway,” he said, calling me by my first name. When he said that word, I knew something had gone wrong.

“What's wrong dad?” I asked and immediately, Fae walked into the room. She looked haughty and tough as she looked at me.

“This young lady claims to know you,” my dad said, glancing warily at me. “Despite all the times I've told you that you didn't need any friends. A moment ago, she barged into my office- very rudely- and commanded that I take a look at your-” he chokes a little “-art.”

“Stop saying that like it's an insult!” Fae snapped, sounding very rude indeed.

I stared. I was sure Fae- smiling, laughing, and living on Cloud Nine and all- didn't own the guts to do confrontations. But apparently I was wrong. Girls, I rolled my eyes. Always have to be so unpredictable.

“Her name's Fae Brooks,” I said. Might as well spill everything now. “She's a friend of mine and she likes how I paint.”

My dad frowned at me. “Friend?” He glared sideways at Fae. “I've obviously been giving you too much freedom, Callaway,” he said, gruffly.

Fae viciously glowered at him. “Just look at one of his paintings!” she exclaimed. I could tell she was trying to control the anger in her voice. “Once you see it, you'll fall in love. I know it.”

“Shut up, Fae,” I ordered hastily. My father's face looked cold and calculating. He's powerful, and in the past, he's closed down millions of companies that enraged him. He could do the same to Fae's dad's construction company too. Quickly, I added, “Get out my window and go home.”

“No,” Fae said, glaring at me too. She crossed her arms.

What was this? A bad-tempered little girl act? I stared at her, willing her to understand that her parents' jobs were at stake if she didn't leave, but she turned away with a huff.

Damn. Well then.

My father finally makes his move. He walked over to my desk and glanced at the painting of Fae. Smirking, he looked right at me.

“You have a picture of her in your room?”

Fae looked over also, and gaped; showing my dad that she hadn't known about it either.

Okay. This was getting a little awkward. I was not expecting to confess my feelings to Fae in front of my dad and I was sure he wouldn't allow it, but I frankly didn't care anymore.

“Fae,” I said, grabbing her attention. “I originally planned to do this without my dad present, but circumstances have changed and now, I'm just going to improvise.”

“Cale?” Fae blinked.

My dad blinked also. “Callaway?”

I pointed to the painting of Fae, ignored my dad, and proclaimed, “I like you Fae- a lot. I think about you every waking minute of every hour that I live. I understand if you don't reciprocate, but I just want to tell you that I like you. I really, really do.” I breathed quickly. “I like you, Fae.”

Fae was as still as a statue. Her expression was unreadable.

The same with my dad; he was statue-like also: which confused me. It wasn't like I had confessed to him.

After several moments of silence, I coughed.

Dad seemed to awake first. “How much did it cost to get her picture blown up like this?” he asked, tapping a knuckle lightly on the canvas. “It looks expensive.”

I stared. “Uh. This is going to sound awkward. But I drew that.”

My dad's eyes narrowed. “Claiming other people's works can take you to jail, Callaway,” he said sternly. “Now, what was the price?”

“He painted that,” Fae answered, her face a now deep pink. “The art that you hate so much is the art Cale is so talented with.”

My dad considered her warily. Then, he changed the subject. “What's your reply to my son?”

I slapped myself: why did he want to know that?

Fae, blushing cutely, turned to look at me. Smiling broadly, she answered, “I like him too- very much. Ever since we were little and he approached me, I've liked him-”

My heart swelled, just as my dad interrupted. “Ever since you were both little?” He turned to give me a dark look.

“Yes,” Fae said, defensively. “You've got a problem with that?”

I gaped at her nerve. Here stood a powerful man with high reputation, and Fae was giving him the most disrespect I've ever seen in my life.

My dad looked back at me with both of his eyebrows raised. I shrugged at him and smiled helplessly. We had that look on our face that read quite plainly: girls.

He jerked a thumb to the painting behind him. “You painted this.” It wasn't a question.

“Yeah,” I answered.

There was a moment's pause.

“Play your thing,” he commanded.

I gave him a blank look.

“Your violin,” Fae whispered loudly.

What in the world, I think, as I reached under my bed for my violin case. After a few minutes of testing it and prepping, I play a tune or two of 'Amazing Grace'.

My dad stared at me while Fae clapped and cheered. Hearing the ruckus Fae was making, my dad turned to stare at her too.

I grinned as I continued to play, the violin's neck was clasped comfortably in my hand, with the bow held gently in my other hand.

My dad turned, causing me to stop playing. I watched as he approached Fae.

“You like my son?” he asked, with a little too much force.

“Yes,” Fae answered at once. My heart bled.

“I'll let it happen,” my dad said. He glanced over at me and I shoot him the most happiest smile I've ever worn. My dad was actually letting me date Fae? Even though she had been slightly rude and came from a lower class?

“You seem to understand my son more than I do,” my dad continued to tell Fae, grudgingly. “So I'll let it happen. You can both go on dates and I'll let you in the house- I'll even let you marry each other if you still like each other in the future.” My dad's eyes darkened at her. “But, young lady, listen up. I won't repeat myself. I warn you-”

'Warn' was a really bad word for my dad to be saying. I quickly cut in, “Dad, stop it-”

My dad threw me a death glare. “Shut up,” he told me, pointing a finger, “and keep playing that, Callaway. I want some background music to go with this.”

“Uh...” I trailed off uncertainly, but Fae smiled encouragingly at me.

I played some random notes, but my dad seemed to accept it (he had no taste in music). He turned to Fae and threatened, “If you leave my son for another man or another whatever, then I'll hunt you down personally and sue you, your family, your pet iguana, and whatever company you work for. Do you understand me?”

A little shocked, I stood up from my bed but Fae motioned for me to sit. I stayed standing up anyway, my violin laid out on the bed, forgotten.

“I understand, Mr. Radke,” Fae answered calmly, looking happy. “I'll never leave him, unless I die. But-” she smiled at my dad “-I'm glad to see that you've got some paternal traits in you.”

My dad stared.

I stared.

Fae smiled.

My dad and I exchanged looks and nodded: girls.

“Fine,” he said. He waved an arm tiredly. “I'm off to do my business. Dinner at six, you two, and yes-” he turned to Fae angrily “-you have to come. Call your parents and explain. Fail to be present and you'll never step foot in this house again.”

And with that, my dad nearly flew out the door with the remaining dignity that he had left. Surprisingly, he closed the door behind him.

Fae and I stared at each other. Slowly, at the same time, we smiled.

Holding out my arms to her, I grinned. “Thanks for that.”

She walked towards me and brushed her fingers against mind. “Of course,” she answered, proudly.

I laughed and pulled her closer. It was weird, how my dad had easily accepted us both. It looked as if he had accepted my art too- but as to what he planned on doing next, I didn't know. It was nice to know that I- who had originally planned that Fae and I date secretly- wouldn't have to sneak out of the house anymore. Instead, Fae could just walk in.

“Will you go out with me?” I whispered to her as our foreheads touched.

Fae looked me in the eyes. “Of course,” she answered, whispering also. She smiled.

I drew her in and our lips met, blissfully. My father, strict and down-to-business, had accepted her. He had asked no questions about her family, which relieved me. I knew then, with confidence, that my dad would start to accept Fae even more and more.

Everything had worked- unexpectedly. I was happy, and so was Fae. We were together.


© Copyright 2017 Eden L. All rights reserved.

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