He kept an arm around my waist as we clambered over the rocks onto the beach. The waves were kicking today, but their call in my life had been lost back with a broken board and shaken confidence. I was content to stay on dry land.
We walked halfway down the beach before plopping down in the sand, watching the sea gulls fight over something a few yards away.
We didn't have much to say to each other, the silence acting as a merciful cloak rather than a demanding burden. My mind was with Morgan. With Troy. Heck, even with Seth.
The fading sun hung on the distant edge of the water, a golden beacon about to disappear into darkness, but not before silhouetting the last surfer who'd finally bid goodnight to the sea. He ran by us, heading up the beach to his spot closer to the rocks.
I looked out on the now rider-less ocean, feeling as if it had abandoned me. It was the first haven to be destroyed; the first to fall in my eyes, soon to be followed by others.
This was the new normal—this brokenness.
“Kat said I'd find you guys here,” someone said, walking up behind us. I turned toward Jay. He aimed a sad smile at me, then looked at both his brother and Colby in turn.
“I told you, you didn't have to come,” I protested, glad he didn't listen to me.
He chuckled, but it was forced. False. “When have I ever obeyed you?”
I shrugged off Jamie's arm and stood to hug Jay. Probably not a good move, but I didn't care. I just needed my best friend. He'd been with me through everything bad in my life, and now he was here, once again. Beside me.
“Thanks for ignoring me.” I finally released him.
“I'd have been here that night, but I had exams. I came as soon as I could. If you'd asked me to though, I'd have skipped them.”
Too many emotions were tugging at my ribcage, and I sent my gaze to the water, blinking at the setting sun. “I know.”
Jay watched me as I sat back down and leaned into Jamie once more. He gripped Colby's shoulder in silent camaraderie before sitting beside him. The four of us had been through so much together; we'd grown apart, only to find each other once again.
Now, as the world darkened around us, we held onto one another.
Colby took my hand in his, a gesture reminiscent of when we were kids. Only this time, he wasn't just protecting his sister; he was holding onto me, taking comfort.
The sun had finally sunk below the ocean, but left satin strands of orange and pink to remain and play against the velvet night. It was an unreachable beauty that I knew, now, was only an illusion.
The beach was lonely, with only the four of us left; the silence deafening as we waited. And waited.
Finally, Colby's phone rang, breaking the tension that threatened to choke us all. He pulled it from his pocket with trembling fingers, the glow lighting up his face. Answering it, he held it to his ear.
“Parker,” he breathed.
We all watched him take in the news that none of us could hear.
“So, she's-”
He listened again.
“Thanks for calling. And Parker, we're all thinking about your family.”
Colby put his phone away and looked to me. “Surgery went well.”
And there they were. The words that made my heart beat again.
“She's awake.”
I lunged toward my brother, and he caught me as he fell back into the sand, a relieved smile plastered across his lips. A true, genuine smile. It felt like ages since I'd seen one of those.
I rolled off him onto the sand and lay there, feeling the cracks in my heart mend just the tiniest bit.
Morgan refused to see us the entire time she was in the hospital, but we didn't stop trying. Parker, no longer the carefree girl I knew, kept us updated. Their family was hurting, and that wasn't likely to end soon.
We were all dealing in our own ways. I kept busy, trying to forget. That was easiest. Morgan pulled away from even her closest friends. Colby went about business as usual, keeping up his impervious facade. And Jamie. Oh Jamie, the boy who never needed anyone. Well, he held onto everyone with both hands and his feet and even his teeth if he could. His father became a larger fixture in his life, despite their differences. And me, well things were different than they were before.
Jamie laid on my bed, flipping through a magazine. I found him waiting there when I got off work.
“Break is almost over,” he said. “We have to go back to that place.”
“I hadn't thought about it.” I looked away and pretended to straighten things on my desk. In truth, I'd thought about little else.
He leapt up, catching me around the waist. “It's okay. I'm going to be right there with you.”
“Uh huh.”
“Callie, look at me.”
I did as he asked, meeting his bright eyes.
“I'm going to be right there with you. We're doing this, you and me. I meant what I told you in that locker room.”
I looked down again. His words had been playing through my head for weeks, but they were mixed in with everything else I'd been feeling, and we hadn't talked about it.
“I'm in love with you.”
“I just figured you thought we were going to die.” I tried to make a joke because that's what I did. Deflect. Deflect. Deflect.
He pulled me against his chest. “Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Downplay what I'm telling you.”
“Jamie, I know you think you love me now, but I don't want it to be just because of what we went through together.”
“It's-”
I held a finger to his lips.
“One of these days this is all going to feel real to you like it does to the rest of us. It's not going to be about speeches with your father or realizing how lucky you are to be alive. Because that's what's happening. You feel lucky, and you feel the need to tell people you care. When you crash and that luck turns to guilt or fear, you'll see how hearing someone loves you is not enough to fill the hole in your heart. Not yet.”
His arms slipped from my waist to hang limp at his sides. I released him, allowing him to pass me. He stopped at the door and turned.
“I'll pick you up for school tomorrow.”
I nodded, and he was gone.
27
Callie
The first thing we were told at school was that there were therapists available to talk to us if need be. Talk. Like any of us could form the words.
The gym was closed until further notice, just one more reminder.
It was exam week since they'd been postponed. I walked into creative writing to be greeted with a warm smile from Mr. Chase. I'd spent a lot of time with him over the holidays, but now he was my teacher once again.
Looking toward the back, I was shocked to see Morgan sitting in her usual seat. If it wasn't for the sling on her arm, she'd look as if nothing happened.
I slid in beside her, and she didn't even look up. Hannah sat on her other side, but the two didn't speak.
When our exam was over, she stood and made her way to the door, an obvious slowness to her movements.
In the halls, just as in the town, we were divided. Those who were there and those who weren't. A line had been drawn. Everyone who'd stayed home, talked about it and stared, but they'd never know. Not really.
That evening when I was working, I felt eyes on me wherever I moved. I hadn't only been there, I'd been one of the missing nine that the town agonized over for an hour before we were found. It was a celebrity I didn't want.
The muttering started in the booths nearest to the door, spreading across the diner. I turned from where I was refilling sugar packets. Seth's large frame stood in the doorway. He looked around nervously. It was his first time back since that night.
He didn't take his usual spot at the counter, instead opting for a booth that was tucked away in the corner, out of sight of prying eyes. He slumped forward, burying his face in his hands.
I should have gone over there. He held no more
blame than anyone. So, why couldn't I make my feet move? Before I got the chance, Kat brushed by me, mug of coffee in hand. She set it down in front of Seth, gave his shoulder a squeeze, and sat across from him.
She didn't leave his table until he was done and ready to leave.
Walking toward me, her eyes said it all. “That poor man.”
“I don't know how you do it,” I said.
“Do what?”
“Be so nice all the time.”
“Callie.” She forced me to stop what I was doing. “That's not being nice. It's called being human.”
Seth returned to his normal routine, stopping in for dinner each evening. The rest of us tried to live our lives as we had before. Exams went as good as could be expected. The new semester started without much fanfare.
Talk at school turned from school shooting to graduation and college. Matthew and Troy were left out of our words, but it wasn't so easy with our thoughts.
Morgan remained aloof, at times cruel, to the people she once cared about.
Jamie and I were together, but the things I'd said to him constantly hung between us, a barrier to break through. The weeks passed, and we all put on the act, though in truth, we weren't the same people we were before.
College brochures piled up on my desk, a not-so-subtle nudge from Kat, but I ignored it. The future was not something I could think about.
28
Jamie
What dude wears makeup? This one apparently. I coughed and sputtered as one of my dad's secretaries brush powder across my cheeks. Again. This was the third interview I'd had to attend in the two months since December. I never said anything. I was an ornament, there to remind the people that my dad was just like them. He too had been touched by tragedy.
He was using me, using what happened to us, for political gain. It should have bothered me, but all I knew was that he hadn't hit me since it happened. He hadn't yelled or made me feel like I wasn't wanted in his family. In fact, for the first time in my life, it felt like he wanted me. Me. Not Jay. I'd always been the son in the background. The one he didn't want everyone knowing about because I represented what he'd done.
I followed a step behind my father as he walked up to the podium. I blinked as cameras flashed bright and blinding. Reporters spoke one on top of another, but my father's press secretary was able to calm them down enough to get the questions one at a time. My father expertly answered a few before the big one came.
“Congressman Daniels,” the reporter said. “Is it true that you're planning a run for the US Senate?”
I couldn't see his face, but I could picture my dad's smile. The one he saved for the cameras. His back shook as he chuckled in his scripted way.
“Now, Linda. You just had to go and steal my thunder.”
There was a rumble of laughter from the crowd.
“It's true. Today I am announcing a run for the US Senate. But don't you folks worry, my job in the state senate isn't finished, and I will continue to work for all of you during this campaign.”
“One more question.” The press secretary nodded at a man in the back. “Paul.”
“Thank you,” Paul said, rising to his feet. His eyes weren't focused on my father, however, they seared into me. “Your son was part of the missing nine at the tragedy that occurred at Gulf City High and we are so thankful they were all found. But you have, as of yet, failed to tell us how you plan to combat future events such as this. What will your campaign say about guns in schools?”
I wiped my sweaty palms against my slacks, feeling the weight of my father's impending answer hanging in the room.
My father glanced sideways at his press secretary. He'd just announced his campaign. He couldn't not answer. My heart thundered in my chest as images of that night rolled through my mind. I'd dreamed about it. Thought about it. Lived it every day since.
The heat from the cameras overwhelmed me as we all waited. Someone tapped their foot against the ground, the sound echoing through the room.
Growing up with my dad, I knew how politics worked. This early in his campaign, he couldn't speak to support guns or against them. It was one of the hottest issues in this state. He breathed, preparing to give his scripted answer to any gun question.
Without realizing what I was doing, I stepped forward and leaned toward the microphone.
“Kids died,” I said, clearing my throat. “My friend was shot.” Someone tried to pull me back, but I shook them off. “Do you get that?” They were more forceful this time. I lunged away from them for one more moment. “Don't freaking politicize us.”
A strong arm wrapped around my chest, pulling me back. One of my father's body guards. I didn't fight him this time. I caught one more glimpse of my father at the podium before he turned on his heel without another word and walked backstage, ending the press conference.
“Let me go,” I growled once we were out of sight. He did.
With my father refusing to look at me, I stormed out and got in my car without looking back.
He was right. I screwed everything up. I couldn't help it. And Callie had been right. Simply feeling lucky to be alive wasn't enough to combat the crash of reality.
The clip of me dropping yelling at reporters made the national news. Passionate. Scarred. Misunderstood. Those were a few of the things they called me. It brought my dad the recognition he'd wanted for his campaign, but it was more likely to hurt than to help.
That night, he backhanded me for the first time in months as I sat at the kitchen table with my math book open in front of me. He didn't say a word. He didn't have to.
Things were back to normal between us.
I went to hide out in my room, powering up my laptop and looking through the list of small colleges the guidance counselor sent me. I didn't know if I'd get in, my GPA as low as it was, but I had to try. If there was one thing I knew, it was that I couldn't stay in Gulf City after high school. I had to get away from here.
29
Callie
My mom returned to my dreams for the first time in months. She sat on the beach, my beach - our beach, with the faceless man beside her. She had the most carefree laugh and my dream-self wanted to watch her forever.
A calm settled over me as I woke. The corner of my mouth lifted in a half smile as I rolled over and flipped on the bedside lamp.
The clock read half-past six. The early rays of light filtered in through my window, creating an eerie glow.
Stretching my arms above my head, I realized I had the entire day off. Colby was working at the diner with Kat and Jamie had some interview thing with his dad again. He'd had one after school yesterday as well.
I didn't know what to do on my own.
I laid there for a moment longer before heading downstairs in search of sustenance. I almost passed it without notice. Almost. Then something made me turn, and the yellow flowers caught my eye. There, leaning against the wall by the front door, was mom's board. I'd always think of it as hers. She was only lending it to me.
I reached out, tapping my fingers against it to make sure it was real. My lips curled up. I could feel mom's strength radiating off it, permeating my hard core.
A post-it fluttered to the floor. I bent to pick it up.
Hope you don't mind.
I stole the pieces from under your bed.
You need the waves as much as I need you.
I love you - don't tell me I don't.
-Jamie
I leaned my forehead against the smooth board, he'd even waxed it for me. A laugh began in my belly before finding its outlet.
“Is today the day, Mom?” I whispered.
Suddenly wide awake, I ran back to my room. I grabbed my phone off the bedside table, checking my alerts. Sure enough it was there. The waves were in.
I started digging through the pile of clothes on my floor, pulling free a bathing suit and wetsuit before putting them on so quickly you'd think there was an emergency. I tied my hair in the usual braid and ran out of there.
Thankfully, Colby rode to the diner with Kat, leaving his car at home. I grabbed his keys and a granola bar on my way out. I slid the board in the back, having to open a window for it to fit, then took off.
I was hardly the first one at the beach. Surfers dotted the horizon, riding the gorgeous waves. They rolled toward the beach with a steady rhythm, pounding the sand like the beat of a drum.
I can do this, I told myself. And I could. Something had changed the moment I touched that board again. I no longer felt so far away from her, my mom. A piece of me had returned.
I ran down the beach, not slowing until my feet splashed into the water. Fear gripped me, but I pushed it away. I needed this, and it was now or never.
Wading out deeper, I tightened the Velcro around my ankle, running my hand over the still visible scar. I let the water take hold of my board and breathed. In. Out. Don't think. Just do. Let the ocean wash away that which troubles you. It was a saying I used to live by and wanted to feel again.
The water was chest high by the time I pulled myself onto my board and paddled. After so many months away, my arms burned, but I kept going. I had to.
Stroke. Stroke. Push yourself to the limit. Let the feel of the water, the strain of your muscles, fill your mind.
I pushed out, breaking through a large wave, letting the water crash around me like a symphony speeding up its pace.
Once I was past the breaking waves, I sat up and kicked myself around. Looking back over my shoulder, I chose a wave and made sure the way was clear.
My body remembered what to do. It had never been scared, only held back. My arms swung, racing against the wave. They straightened, and I brought my feet under me, catching my balance.
That was it. I was home. That was me.
I turned into the wave, riding through a tunnel trying to swallow me whole. When I came out of it still standing, I pumped my fist in the air, knowing that if anything could heal me, this was it. The pieces of my soul moved back into place.
Invincible- The Complete Set Page 15
