The Birds and The Bees

"Caleb, you think they've cleared out by now?"

Silence. Just more channel-surfing. I swear flipping through channels is basically his hobby, he never actually watches anything, just clicks through, occasionally pausing on something and then, right as I start getting invested, switching away again. Total menace. I'm honestly convinced he does it purely to torment me.

"Caleb!" I yank his sleeve. "Do you think the Night Shade trackers gave up already?"

Nothing. He does pause briefly on ESPN for the sports recap though.

"Caleb. Calebbbb! Calebbbbb!!!" I start jabbing his arm with one finger repeatedly.

"Goddess, you're exhausting," he mutters.

Well, obviously. Why state the obvious? "Maybe if you just answered like a normal person, I wouldn't have to be this exhausting, would I?"

He grunts, glaring harder at the screen, still switching channels. I'm losing patience fast, so I snatch the remote right out of his grip.

"Simple question. Gone, yes or no?" I press. "Caleb, just pick one."

"Keep the hoodie on," he says, snatching it right back.

"It reeks, it's hideous, and no employer will hire me while I look homeless," I argue. "They left already, didn't they?"

Another grunt, more channel flipping.

Is that a confirmation or a denial? Impossible to tell. He won't answer directly, won't even look at me anymore.

And then it clicks. They're gone. Probably vanished weeks back already. Caleb just wants me stuck in this hoodie regardless.

"Why keep this from me? Why let me suffer in this disgusting thing longer than needed?" I demand. "Caleb?"

"That hoodie keeps you out of trouble. Keeps those college creeps from noticing you. You don't understand what they're like. One thing on their minds whenever they spot girls like---"

"Seriously? You're really about to give me the birds-and-bees lecture right now?"

I'm still a little annoyed about the unnecessary extra weeks in that hoodie, but I've genuinely never witnessed Caleb squirm this hard. His expression twists into pure horror the second "birds and bees" leaves my mouth. Since revenge tastes sweet, I add innocently, "Nana actually gave me that talk once. Explained exactly how babies happen. Daddy part goes into mommy part, and then they---"

"Enough!" He practically launches off the couch, face flushing red. I clamp both hands over my mouth to contain my laughter. Best moment ever, honestly.

Caleb looks borderline relieved when the doorbell interrupts us. He practically sprints to answer it. Food's arrived.

He should be grateful I spared him Nana's actual, unfiltered birds-and-bees speech from when I was eight. That version left me traumatized, eyeing every boy with suspicion and every pregnant woman with genuine pity for years afterward.

We lay out egg rolls, shrimp lo mein, fried rice, honey garlic ribs, beef with broccoli, and Kung Pao chicken across the coffee table.

"Wow, that's a ton of food," I remark.

"Complaining?" he asks.

"Never," I say immediately, shaking my head hard. "Nana always said, more food is always good. Never enough."

He grunts approval and we eat quietly. I'm still processing the fact that I'm officially hoodie-free now. This whole time, Caleb was just trying to keep men away from me, or maybe keep me hidden from them. I already can't help planning outfits for Monday's classes. I bet Caleb's just thrilled I've dropped the birds-and-bees interrogation, daddy parts and all.

After eating, we tidy up and watch some TV before Caleb retreats to his room. Minutes later he emerges wearing the same grey shirt, swapped into black jeans and biker boots.

"Where to?" I ask.

"Out."

"Out like, a party? Can I tag along?" I beg. "Please? I'll behave, promise. Super behaved. Extra super behaved. Pretty please?"

"No."

"Wingman material right here. Or wingwoman."

"No."

Rats.