#c;caleb

“Where have you been tonight?”

                      As cliche and chauvinistic as it sounded when he said it aloud, the YMCA down on Brock Street had became a home away from home for the Andrews’ clan black sheep. Pick-up basketball three times a week, steam rooms and saunas when he was feeling particularly self-indulgent. He loved the place, the community there, and other Bellevue patrons did too, which aided in the need for expansion for the facilities. After a few months of construction of a new wing and patience from their members, a boxing wing was implemented, and the rest of the Y couldn’t be more happy; Brax included in their ranks. And who else better to test the waters of ring ropes and red leather gloves than Caleb; both his partner in crime and his biggest envy, “Man, we should have gone to a boxing gym earlier,” Brax said between quick breaths, grin wide and airy as gloved hands, swift in speed, hit at the pads the other male held up, “Now I have a valid excuse for trying to punch you in the face–”

-truth be told, the only feeling caleb recognised when he looked at phoebe pacar as she walked into the green’s bar was that of curiosity. he’d only met her the once a few weeks before when aidan had nearly cracked her skull open with a wrench, from which all he really remembered was her unwavering mask. it hadn’t cracked for even a second. and as she wandered through those double doors beside his baby sister (who had for one reason or another become friends with the girl), he couldn’t help but wonder if it would take a different type of goading to make it crack. with a smirk he stepped around the patrons to meet them half way to the bar, ignoring morgan and instead looking at phoebe- You get lost again, sunshine?