“Callie, can I talk to you for a moment?” She asks, stepping into my path, like a big boned, French floral traffic cone.
“Sure.” I mumble, as I shift my bag from one shoulder to the other. She waits for everyone to clear the life sucking, stale aired classroom. Mollie and Chloe exit while glancing my way and whispering still. I ignore them and focus on the problem at hand, roadblock Belle. Oh jeez.
“Callie, it has come to the attention of me and some of the other members of staff … that you appear to be struggling. Is everything okay dear?” She asks. Her big, Bambi brown eyes fill with concerned as I look down at my shoes. My confidence is non-existent, and as of late I’m finding looking at the floor to be a good way to avoid pitying eyes.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I reply shyly, not giving anything away.
“Look, it is very clear that you are not okay Callie, but I can’t force you to talk to me about whatever it is that is bothering you. Just please, talk to someone okay?” She asks, almost pleading.
“I have someone.” I say aloud unable to stop myself, realising that this is true. My heart rises inside my chest a little, and then plummets when the painful truth of Orion’s absence hits me all over again.
“That’s good. You’re so bright Callie, and it’s awful seeing you this way.” She admits and I can’t help but feel completely disarmed by her caring.
“Um … thanks. I have to go.” I explain, dashing for the door. I hear Mrs. Belle give out a sigh and it sounds like someone deflating an air ship.
I get out of the school building and head straight over to my car, glad that nobody is in my way. I remember this morning, Daryl greeting me, trying to apologise, and me walking away without saying a word. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hated me but I can’t say I care too much. I mean what does he expect after the way he treated me at my party? I get into my little red vintage convertible and sink into the white leather, even this gives me less pleasure than I am used to. I take off the steering lock, plunge the key into the ignition and drive, agitated, out of the parking lot. I feel spots of rain begin to fall before I see them and with one hand I pull the white leather hood over the top of the car and haphazardly connect it to the windshield for protection from the sudden downpour. This just about sums up my mood right about now, I think to myself as I wind down the road leading to the private beach: our private beach. As I park my car routinely, get out into the drizzle and slam the door shut, I realise I can barely remember getting here. This drive has become second nature to me now.
I reach the spot in which Orion and I sat, the hood of my grey jacket pulled up around my head, my baggy jeans and unkempt hair both blowing in the building breeze. I sit and close my eyes as the rain comes down around me. I go back to that night in my head. Remembering the freedom I’d felt as Orion swam us out toward the giant moon that rose over the ocean horizon. I remember his silken, rose pink lips brushing my cheek and his hand around mine. As the rain pours down around me, hot tears fall into the sand as I consciously wish so hard that he was here that I feel sick. The rain comes down in sheets, drenching me, chilling me to the bone. I hear someone yelling my name and I turn, wondering if by wishing hard enough I have conjured Orion back. But no … It’s Chloe and Mollie running towards me, their figures cowering in the ice cold assault from above.
“Callie! Oh my God, what are you doing out here!?” Mollie cries out as they rush to me and bundle me, unwillingly, toward the beach house that lies in the distance. Through the rain, we emerge into the sitting room of the finely decorated and airy beach home and they both stare incredulously at ,what I can imagine is, my very mascara stained face.
“What the hell Callie?” Chloe yells looking at me like I’m crazy.
“Shut up Chloe and calm down okay.” I say to her, not thinking about the consequences of telling someone like Chloe to shut up.
“Hey don’t you tell me to shut up! We followed you to try to help you! You’re the one who’s gone all suicidal and psycho! And you know what Callie? It really doesn’t suit you!” She storms out of the room, overly dramatic and self-involved as per-usual. Mollie looks after her as she stands in the doorway with her hand on the handle.
“I’ll be in the car. Make sure you lock up MY beach house.” She announces in a bratty tone to Mollie. Mollie nods and turns to me rolling her eyes.
“What is going on, Callie? You know you can tell me.” She announces placing her arm around my soaked and shaking form. I’m sitting on one of the larger couches and my hair is dripping onto the wooden floor, as the huge windows are pelted with rain making a horrendous noise. The room is dim in the overcast light and I sigh.
“Carl left my mom.” I explain, glad to finally say it to someone.
“Oh! I’m so sorry … I thought you didn’t like Carl though?” She admits, looking confused.
“He told her he was leaving because he couldn’t handle having a step daughter like me.” I tell her and a tear trickles down my face as guilt overcomes me.
“Well Callie, that’s ridiculous!” Mollie laughs and I look up at her with large, watery eyes.
“Yeah, well my mom doesn’t think so; she hasn’t spoken a word to me in almost three weeks. She’s gone. She took Kayla and left. I’m all alone.” She gasps and moves toward me, clutching her arms around my sodden body.
“Come stay with me.” She demands and I look up at her so relieved.
“You mean I don’t have to go back to the silent house tonight? Oh thank God!” I say and I feel so relieved inside that the knot of tension I always get around home time each day unfurls and a hysterical giggle escapes my lips.
“You’re the best. Really, I cannot tell you how much this means to me Mollie.” I hug her back tightly and she wiggles free.
“Callie I don’t mean to be mean … but you’re a little … soggy.” I look down at my sodden baggy jeans and grey jacket.
“Guess I didn’t really think to bring an umbrella.” I mumble, looking down at my soggy sneakers.
“Good job in this weather or you’d end up like Mary Poppins.” Mollie reminds me and I smile at the visual, though in all honesty I wouldn’t mind floating away on an easterly breeze.
“I’m going to go tell Chloe that I’m going home in your car okay?” Mollie explains, and I nod in return as she hops off along the beach. We’ve been sitting for around half an hour and I’ve explained everything as well as I can at this point, without adding in the details about Orion which I’ve chosen to keep to myself. The sun is now peeking out from behind some clouds as the rain becomes a drizzle and the light is ten times more intense as each droplet magnifies it. The orange of the sun is strewn across the sky as the clouds clear. I leave the beach house, locking it behind me, and head toward my little red vintage. When I arrive there, the rain has completely stopped and in true San Diego style, it is already heating up. I slide into the car, feeling a little better than when I exited it. I put down the hood splattering raindrops onto the trunk. Mollie returns sliding in on my left and looking slightly ruffled. I wonder what Chloe had to say about Mollie ditching her for me.
“To yours?” I ask rhetorically and she nods smiling slightly. With that small gesture I punch the car into reverse then drive and smile to myself, feeling so relieved I don’t have to return home I could sing, as we head into the orange filled light of the San Diego day.
I’ve been staying at Mollie’s for a little under a week now and I’m feeling undeniably better about the whole situation at home. I haven’t heard anything from my mom even after Mollies’ mom phoned her to tell her I was staying here. I didn’t want Mrs. James to call, I doubted my mom would even care to be honest, but she insisted so I let her make the call and hadn’t heard anything since. I stare out of the window of Mollie’s pink room from my sleeping bag on the floor. It hadn’t been comfy at first, but I was getting used to the solidarity of the floor after the six nights I had laid upon it. It was like I had become a part of their family. Mollie’s parents are so kind, s
o giving, but all the while the question still sat in the back of my mind: Was it my fault?
Mollie walks back into her room wearing faded pale denim jeans and a white tank top, holding a bowl of freshly popped and perfectly buttery popcorn. I feel my stomach grumble as the smell of butter hits me. Mollie sits down on her single wrought iron bed, the bars of the headboard twist into roses, and white fluffy pillows scatter the foot of the mattress. If I were to describe this room, I would say that it reminds me of a giant candy land board game as the pink walls are accented by bright splashes of colour everywhere. I am thankful for the fact that Mollie and I are the same size and that by some twist of fate her old phone and my new one take the same charger, or I would have never survived this last week. She turns the large TV, that is plastered onto the wall onto MTV and lies back, passing me the bowl of popcorn. I take a handful and lie back against the wall, munching. Instantly I feel my pocket vibrate and my stomach clenches. I reach into my pocket and flip the cell open and see a text; it’s from my mom.
‘Hi C, can you please come home tonight, we need to talk. Love Mom xxx.’
So what, now it’s ‘love Mom’? Since when? I raise my eyebrows and Mollie looks over at me slowly.
“What?” She demands, concerned. I turn the cell phone to show her the screen and she reads slowly, her eyes scanning the one-line message several times before responding.
“Sounds like she wants to make things right. You should go, she is your mom.” She says these words like they are supposed to mean something to me, like I don’t know I’m supposed to go and work things out with my only living parent. I sigh. Of course I know. Do I want to? No, I don’t. Am I obligated? Hell yes.
I get to my feet and begin to roll up the sleeping bag.
“Don’t … just in case.” Mollie warns. I nod, thinking she is right, but then change my mind and continue to roll the sleeping bag away before her iron glare. I explain not wanting to offend.
“Nah, it’s okay. I don’t want to be any more of an imposition on you, or your family. I’ll just go to the beach house.” She pauses for a moment, about to object before catching onto the scent of something else.
“Why have you become so obsessed with the beach recently?” She asks, interrogating me, hitting the invisible nail on the head; I gulp and begin my denial dance.
“Obsessed? I think that’s a little strong … I just like it there. It helps me relax.” I lie through my teeth; I don’t want her to know about Orion. He is something she would scandal over. I don’t want her to make our relationship into something it isn’t. I am not even sure what it means yet.
“Okay Callie, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that this had something to do with a guy … but you don’t like guys, ever, so I know that can’t be it. Just know you can tell me okay?” She assures me and I sigh with relief.
“Okay … help me get ready? I have a feeling this is going to be a long weekend.” I predict, grimacing. She nods as we begin to pack my things away, ready for my return home.
As I creep up the darkening street, like a criminal returning to the scene of an only too recent crime, I am reminded of the month prior where I drove up this same road, unaware of the mess I was about to walk into. The stars twinkle as an almost full moon rises above the trees that crowd the sidewalk. The breeze is gentle, moving my hair so it tickles my ears in that familiar way I enjoy; comforting me.
As I pull up to the driveway I notice a new car parked in the garage, it’s blue and cute, perfect for my mom actually. I smile cautiously, forgetting the hurt for a moment as I picture her waving to me from the front seat, smiling at me, finally proud. I shake my head, pushing the image away with my momentary hopes. I bring the little red vintage to a halt, pull on the handbrake and ease the keys out of the ignition. I grab my bag and walk past the rows of petunias and the newly appreciated willow tree that aided in my escape that fateful night almost one month ago. I place my hand on the front door handle, listening intently for that oh so familiar sound of my Mom and Carl talking intently, or laughing about something irrelevant. I hear nothing and so I twist the handle firmly and push forward, the smell of home enveloping me. As I walk into the familiar hallway, I hear a little voice; the one I’ve been missing more than anything, calling my name and coming closer and closer.
“Callie’s home!” Kayla giggles, running towards me. She seems so much happier than when I left; maybe I am the one ruining her and my mom’s life. I sigh and swoop her into a hug. Her smile is massive as I hold her with one arm, dropping my bag in the hallway sloppily. I walk with her on my hip; jeez she’s getting heavy. I contemplate this while realising how fast she’s growing up. It won’t be long before she’s borrowing my clothes at this rate.
As I emerge into the kitchen, I smell the most amazing smell; it’s greasy and succulent all in one: burgers.
“Mmm!” I hum before I can stop myself. My mom turns on her heel to look at me from in front of the cupboard where she is retrieving plates and glasses.
“Callie!” She beams, radiant. Her eyes are big, bright and her hair is full and lustrous once again, curly like my own. She is wearing a vest top, one that shows off her cleavage appropriately and jeans that hug her perfectly. I can’t help but smile. This is my mom, she’s back.
“You look nice.” I mumble.
“We have something to celebrate … but first …” She walks forward as Kayla jumps out of my arms and sits me down, taking my hands in hers softly. I want to hope but somehow I fear for the worst; habit I guess.
“I want to apologise, it wasn’t your fault … you know … about Carl.” She looks worried. I have the power here and she hasn’t ever had to crave my approval before. The whole situation is uncomfortable and as moments pass in silence I come to the realisation … it wasn’t my fault.
I break, sobbing and placing my head in my hands, ringlets tumbling around me as my mom’s arms are encircling me.
“I know, Callie. I’m so sorry.” She croons softly, stroking my hair as I cry, silently now. I don’t want to forgive her, the last month has been hell of a very personal brand, but she’s my mom and I am powerless to her kind words, to her love.
After around twenty minutes of tears, I have managed to pull myself together and my mom is telling me the story of how her marriage fell apart.
“He was cheating you know! With a woman from out of town! Can you believe it? Helen Miriam saw them together in town on Wednesday. Of course, I’m hardly surprised. He was never the kind of man to have any balls!” She rants like this, on and on and all I can do is nod as I droop over my triple stacked burger. It’s the one I love found on the secret menu at In-N-Out Burger. My mother knows me too well; she knows I cannot resist their triple stacked heart attack in a bun.
As I chew, I cannot believe she is talking like this about a man whom one month ago, she would have quite happily bitten her left arm off for. I sigh. I guess love does funny things to people. My mind wanders, as she begins to talk about how she is going to redecorate the house to remove the memory of Carl, to thoughts of Orion.
I wonder what he is doing at this very moment. I wonder if he’s thinking about me too. Kayla yanks me back to the conversation abruptly.
“Read me a story?” She pleads. I see that she’s wearing her nightdress and holding her three most favourite teddies.
“Alice in wonderland?” I ask smiling and she grins with a giggle. I have missed that sound. As I sit laughing with her there is a moment as my eyes meet with my mother’s and a look of knowing passes between us; in that moment we are a happy family again.
My eyes fly open … I am covered in sweat … again! I moan to myself. The dreams are happening again, except now I feel like I know what I’m seeing and its making wakefulness difficult. I used to let them fade, but ever since Orion came into the picture I can’t help but cling to them desperately, lying back against the mattress for as long as I can allow, trying to call them back to me. It never works. I wonder if it’s because of the
years I had dismissed my dreams as nonsense, an anomaly of my subconscious.
I sit up, frustrated at the lack of recall, the duvet folded so that my legs are wrapped together in a fin like bond; I feel overwhelmingly tired again and allow my body to flop backwards.
Then it hits me as I catch a glimpse of my calendar on my way back down to the mattress: today’s the day. My one-month sentence has ended. I get to see him tonight! I can’t believe I forgot in my moment of post dream fogginess. I smile to myself as I find the will to place both feet on the cold floor. I walk over to the mirror as usual and my sleepy turquoise eyes greet me. Tonight has to be perfect. I have to be perfect. The anticipation of this night has been welling up inside me like a balloon and I feel like I’m about ready to burst with fear and the possibility of joy in seeing him and feeling his icy hot gaze fall over me. It’s not just his looks that excite me though, it runs deeper, it’s about having someone to be honest with again, having someone who will listen without judging me. So much has happened this month; I just need to be able to talk to someone about everything to make me feel secure again, to make me feel like myself.
The Kiss That Killed Me (The Tidal Kiss Trilogy Book 1) Page 9
