by Anna B. Doe
Groaning silently, I keep walking. How is it that out of all the people I could stumble upon on campus it always has to be him? It’s like I’m cursed. Or maybe that’s just karma getting back at you for all the shitty things you did, a little voice reminds me.
I want to think she’s wrong, but even I’m not that stuck up. Sighing, I rub my forehead to chase the building headache away. Maybe if I don’t comment, he’ll leave me alone. But the persistent asshole he is, he continues following me.
“Don’t you have anything better to do Watson?” I shoot back through my gritted teeth.
Seriously, why does it always have to be him?
Of course, his long legs eat the distance between us and before I know it, Hayden is walking next to me. I refuse to acknowledge him, but from the corner of my eye, I can see him tilt his head as if in thought.
“Nope, I don’t think I do.”
“There isn’t another poor soul you can torture instead of me?”
His calloused hand wraps around my wrist, pulling me to a halt. “Playing victim doesn’t look good on you, Callie,” he taunts in a hard whisper. “You’re hardly poor.”
I tilt my head back, forcing myself to meet his unforgiving gaze. I know I hurt him, but I paid my dues. “Is that what this is about?” I ask, confused. I already said I was sorry, what else does he want from me? I wish I could turn back the time, correct all the mistakes that I’ve made, but it doesn’t work that way. “Money?”
His jaw hardens. “It’s about you little rich kids thinking you own everything and everybody just because your parents can wave their checkbooks and get you out of shit. You better go cry to your mommy and daddy...”
I don’t see it coming. And neither does he. But before either one of us can react the loud smack rings in the air. My palm stings, hand shaking as I pull it back to my chest, holding onto it tightly to prevent it from trembling, but the rage that’s been building inside of me for weeks is finally unleashed and there’s nothing that’ll hold it back.
“They’re dead, asshole,” I snap. Pushing him back, I lift my tear-stained gaze to look into his eyes. I’m done. I’m just… done. All my wounds have been open only moments ago in the dean’s office and now this idiot has the nerve to bring them up once again when my heart is still bleeding.
Somebody else would probably look away, trying to hide their glossy eyes, their pain, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. Let him look. Let him see. Maybe then, he’ll finally leave me in peace. “So no, there is no calling my parents and having them sign a big fat check that’ll give you and your dickhead friends a new locker room or whatever, because they’re dead and there is no bringing them back.”
Hayden inhales sharply, his eyes wide as he stares at me. It’s like he’s seeing me for the very first time.
“Nothing smart to say now?” I taunt mockingly when he opens his mouth, but no words come out. “I didn’t think so.”
Then I turn on the heels of my feet and storm away.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
HAYDEN
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I run my fingers through my hair, pulling at it in frustration as I watch Callie run away in tears. Tears for fuck’s sake. The strongest, most headstrong girl I’ve ever met in my life is running away from me in tears and I’m too dumbfounded to move a muscle. It’s like my body is glued to this spot and I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t...
They’re dead, asshole.
Her words are going on repeat in my brain.
Tears dulling the brightness of her violet eyes.
Defeat in her tone.
The pain on her face as she uttered those words.
They’re dead.
“Fuck,” I yell, my clenched fist connecting to the wall. “Fuck.”
I bend forward as the pain spreads through my hand, but it’s nothing compared to the ache I felt the moment she looked at me as she uttered those words. Like her world is shattered and I’m the one holding the hammer that did all the damage. And then she ran away and I couldn’t do anything to stop her. I was too shell-shocked to follow her, not that she wanted me to.
I thought that I’m past it, that nothing Callie Stewart can say or do will make me feel anything but contempt for her, but I was wrong.
So fucking wrong.
BEFORE
Callie 16, Hayden 17
“This all looks great,” I say, looking up at Callie. She’s sitting across from me, a smile that spreads over her lips almost blinding. “You’re really getting good at this. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if you got a better final grade than I do.”
“I don’t know about that. I still start panicking every time I even think about the final.”
She pushed a strand of her hair that slipped from the bun on the top of her head behind her ear, her cheeks slightly flushing from the praise. I can’t help my own grin from appearing. I love seeing this side of Callie. It’s so much different from what she shows to other people at school. And somehow knowing that it’s just for me makes it even more special.
Reaching forward, I place my hand over hers, my thumb tracing the sensitive skin of her wrist.
As soon as my fingers touch hers, I feel that all too familiar zap of energy and attraction shooting between us.
I look down. My much larger palm envelopes hers completely. The difference between the two of us is striking.
Hard to soft.
Large to small.
Dark to pale.
We couldn’t be more different if we tried, yet… I slowly lift my gaze and look at her. Her lips are slightly parted and she’s staring at our hands too. Am I the only one who’s feeling like this? Am I the only one who can feel this attraction between us like it’s a living, breathing thing?
I don’t want to think I am, but…
“Great! You two are done,” Callie’s mom says as she enters the big dining room where we’ve been working for the past hour.
We both jump apart, pulling our hands to ourselves, like we’ve done something wrong. Maybe we have. Maybe I had. After all, Callie has a boyfriend. And I’m sure Benjamin wouldn’t like it one bit if he saw me touching Callie like that.
Shaking those thoughts away, I turn to Mrs. Stewart. Her smile is big and warm, a plate of cookies in her hand.
“I was just finishing going over Callie’s work. She’s gotten really better.”
I’m blown away like every time I’ve seen her so far. The resemblance between her and Callie is striking. With the same petite build, honey-blonde hair, and those dark, dark blue eyes they could practically be sisters.
Mrs. Stewart leaves the plate on the table between us, her hand falling on my shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.
“It’s all thanks to you. Callie is really lucky to have a friend like you to help her out with this class.”
My cheeks heat from her compliment. Callie’s parents are the nicest people I’ve ever met. Both her mom and dad have been nothing but kind and welcoming since the first time Callie brought me home for our tutoring session. Mrs. Stewart is one of those ladies that’s all touchy, but not in a creepy MILF way, she’s genuinely a touchy person. She does it with everybody who stops by. And she always feeds me. I tried to refuse her once and she made a face like I just kicked her puppy so since then I always make a point to eat when she offers something so I don’t hurt her feelings. Not like it’s a hardship anyway. She’s a great cook, and since both my parents are acting shitty lately, always fighting, it’s a good change to experience something so normal like a plate of cookies and milk after studying.
“It’s all her. Callie’s been working really hard, she just needed a push in the right direction.”
“Still.” Her hands wrap around me in a hug. “You were that push she needed. She’s so lucky to have you.”
NOW
As the memory fades away, guilt and sorrow land on my chest, harsh and asphyxiating.
It’s stupid. I shouldn’t feel that way. I hadn’t
even known her parents that well, except for those few times we were studying at her house, yet still…
Irritated with myself, the whole situation, Callie, I shout loudly not caring one bit who can hear me. Before I can think better of it, my hand flies and connects to the wall. The pain that shoots through my arm is barely able to dull the ache in my chest.
“What the fuck if your problem, man?” Nix’s harsh words snap me out of it. “Are you planning to break the wall with your fucking hand?” He pulls my hand to look at it. “Shit. Is it broken?”
Shit sums it up pretty well. My knuckles are scraped, swollen, bloodied, and bruised. The skin on the back of my hand has already started to discolor. I spread my fingers and clench them into a fist, testing to see if it actually is broken.
“Dammit.” The pain shoots through my hand, but I don’t think I broke anything.
“How bad is it?” he asks and gently takes my hand into his to check for himself slowly releasing and flexing my fingers.
I hiss when his fingers touch the sensitive skin.
“How bad, Hades?”
“Seven.” And then some. “I don’t think it’s broken, though.” Just hurts like a bitch.
He glares at me, shaking his head. “Coach will kill you when he finds out.”
“Well it’s not broken, so he doesn’t have to find out. It’ll be fine, I’ll ice it for a bit and that’ll be it.”
“Yeah, good luck with that.” He looks at the wall and then back at me. “What did the poor building do to you? I don’t think the dean will like the idea of renovating or relocation.”
I clench my fingers, and another wave of pain shoots through my arm. Fuuuuck. I really need to be more careful than that, or I’ll actually end up breaking something.
“Nothing. It was…” I shake my head and close my mouth shut. But of course Nix sees right through my shit. His eyes narrow at me. “What the hell did you do, Hayden?”
Making sure I use the healthy hand, my left hand—Coach will seriously rip me a new one when he sees what I did with my fist—I rub my face. “It’s Callie, okay?”
This only makes his face go even grimmer. Which in turn makes me even angrier. What the hell is going on between the two of them?
“What did you do?”
“Why the fuck do you care?” I finally lash out, all the weeks of pent up frustration finally coming out.
“Because, believe it or not, Callie is my friend.”
“Yeah, right,” I scoff. “Friend.”
We both know Nixon has one kind of female friends, and that kind always ends in his bed. Did he already sleep with her? My hands clench into fists by my side and another wave of pain spreads through my arm.
Dammit.
Nixon shakes his head at me. “Believe me or don’t, that’s your choice, but we are just friends. Although I don’t see how it’s any of your business. You don’t want her, didn’t you say it? Well, if that’s the case, it shouldn’t matter.”
“But it does!”
The words come out before I can stop them and now there’s no taking them back. She got in my head, hell, maybe she never got out in the first place and I was just fooling myself that I got over her.
Sighing, I run my hand through my hair. “I messed up.”
Nix’s lips tip in a smile, but he smooths his features quickly. Smug bastard is enjoying this. “Like that’s something new. What the hell happened now?”
I look to the side, not wanting to face him as I say the words. “I was still pissed off at her for the other day, you know?”
“Yeah, I know you can be an asshole, but that doesn’t explain what you did.”
“I said some shitty things. Brought up a bunch of shit, shit she probably didn’t deserve, and… Damn, I brought up her parents, Nix.”
He frowns, completely confused. “Okay, so what’s the big deal about it?”
“I was taunting her with them, said shit about them paying off whatever shitty thing she did to cover it up, like they did in high school.”
“Still what’s the…”
“They’re dead.” I look at him and repeat it once again because I still can’t wrap my mind around it. “Dead, Nixon.”
“Oh…” His mouth forms a little O in surprise, but nothing else comes up.
“Yeah, oh.” I shake my head, irritated with my own stupidity. “She was crying when she left. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to get back at her for all the shitty things she did, but…” The look of utter devastation, sadness, and pain that crossed her face when she said those two words—They’re dead—flashes behind my closed eyelids. My throat bobs as I swallow, but there is no washing the bitterness away. “Not like that.”
“Dude, I… I don’t even know what to say. That’s some messed up shit.”
“I knew them… they were really good people.”
“Do you think…” He stops, thinking, and I can see that whatever he wants to say won’t be anything good.
“What?” I shift my weight from one leg to another, feeling antsy. “Just say it, whatever you have to say.”
“Do you think her parents’ death has anything to do with her…” He waves in front of his face.
The scars.
The accident.
Fuck. My. Life.
“I have to go.”
“You have to go to the doctor to check your hand, just in case.”
I shake my head no before he can even finish the sentence. “I don’t need a doctor. I’ll ice it later. What I need is to find Callie.”
Find her and apologize for all the insensitive bullshit I spat her way.
“Dude.” Nix rubs his hands over his face. I can see he’s exasperated with me, but I’m not about to back down and he knows it. “Just make sure to put some ice on it. You don’t need to mess up your arm.”
“What I need is to make sure she’s alright.”
Although how could she be? I just brought back probably some of the worst memories of her life while at the same time shaming the people who mean the most to her.
“Ice it. I mean it, Hayden. If you don’t, I’ll get Coach on your ass.”
“Fine,” I grit, not in the least worried about my injuries. How could I be? Callie’s parents died in an accident that she survived, but not without scars. What’s some scrapes and bruises compared to that?
“We’ll talk later,” I add over my shoulder, but he stops me.
“Hayden?”
“What now?” I groan, already thinking of all the places Callie could be at.
“I meant what I said, we’re just friends. Thought you should know it.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
CALLIE
Panting, I close the door behind me. A loud thud echoed in the empty room—thank God for small miracles, the last thing I need right now is more people seeing my humiliation. I don’t know how, but somehow I managed to hold it in, keeping my head down as I raced across the campus toward the dorm.
My whole body is shaking, everything that’s happened finally getting the better of me, so I let my weight press against the wooden surface. My leg aches even more than usual and I know it’ll only get worse later, but I had to get away from Hayden-fucking-Watson, and I had to do it fast. Leg aches be damned.
“Fuck,” I hiss, bending forward so I can massage my trembling thigh. But it’s not just the leg that’s bothering me, it’s the memories. I tried not to think about it, think about that day, but I should have known better.
My gaze clouds, tears, all the pain, sadness, and guilt, gathering with ferocity as all my walls finally crash down.
Dropping to the ground, I pull my knees to my chest, ignoring the stab of pain spreading through my limbs and wrap my hands around them.
“Daddy…”
BEFORE
Callie 16, Hayden 17
“Daddy, I know we already talked about this, but I really think you should reconsider.” I give him a side glance, throwing in an extra bat of my eyelashes, although he’s
looking through the window and not at me.
“Reconsider what?” he asks absentmindedly.
“About the dress.”
I found the most perfect dress for prom, that I knew would leave my boyfriend speechless, but it was just a tad on the expensive side. Still I love it, it’s like it was made for me. When I put it on, I actually felt like a princess so I knew I had to have it. Now just to get my parents behind it.
Looking at the rearview mirror, I see my parents exchange a look. They accompanied me to dance nationals, but both of them have been awfully quiet these past few days. I didn’t pay it much attention since I’ve been preparing for the competition, but I couldn’t ignore it any longer.
“What?” I ask reluctantly. I know that look. Whatever they’re about to say, I won’t like one bit.
Another quiet pause.
Another silent exchange.
My fingers grip around the steering wheel tighter.
“Callie…” Dad says on a sigh. Not Callie-Bear, that awful nickname he insists on using even though I begged him countless times to stop, Callie. Damn, this is worse than I originally thought.
My palms grow sweaty.
“Daddy?”
“We got a call from Mr. Davies last week. We didn’t want to say anything with nationals and all, but now that it’s all behind us.”
Fuck, they know. I should have known they’d find out.
My eyes fall shut, fingers clenching.
“I can ex—” I start, but don’t get to finish.
“Watch out!”
Mom’s scream makes me turn to the side. The bright headlights blind me instantly, and a few seconds later I feel the hard impact. The sound of metal crashing against metal rings in my ears as the air is pushed out of my lungs, leaving me breathless. The car must have turned with the impact. The glass shatters all around us just as the airbags fly out.
And then… then there is only darkness.
NOW
A soft noise brings me back to the present. I blink a few times, clearing my vision. My room. I’m in my room, still sitting on the floor with my back pressed against the door. I’m not sure how much time has passed since I got here, but it’s dark outside. The light of the nearby streetlight shining into the room.
