Secrets We Buried
(The Coincidence Diaries, #1)
Jessica Sorensen
Secrets We Buried
Jessica Sorensen
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2017 by Jessica Sorensen
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
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For information: jessicasorensen.com
Cover Design by Najla Qamber Designs
Created with Vellum
For Kiki, the bravest and most badass girl I know.
Contents
Author’s Note
1. Callie
2. Kayden
3. Callie
4. Kayden
5. Callie
6. Kayden
7. Callie
8. Kayden
9. Callie
10. Kayden
11. Callie
12. Callie
13. Callie
About the Author
Also by Jessica Sorensen
Author’s Note
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Secrets We Buried (The Coincidence Diaries, #1). The Coincidence Diaries series is an ongoing novella series that follows the characters from the Coincidence Series and the Unbeautiful Series as they navigate through their last year of college.
Thanks for reading!
Jessica Sorensen
One
Callie
My heart is racing, my adrenaline is soaring, and my palms are disgustingly sticky. I’m nervous. More nervous than I’ve been in a really long time.
“You doing okay?” the secretary sitting behind the desk asks while eyeballing my bouncing knee.
I nod and try to hold still. “Yeah, I’m great.” I wipe my sweaty palms on the sides of my jeans, feeling ridiculous. Why am I so nervous? It’s just a job interview. You’ve done this before, Callie.
But you want this job really badly.
I internally sigh. I need to calm down, or I’m going to mess up the interview.
The secretary offers me a sympathetic smile. “Evie should be here soon. Just try to hang in there a little longer, okay?” He winks at me then redirects his attention to the computer on his desk.
I’m not sure what to make of his wink, since secretaries usually don’t wink at potential new employees. Then again, nothing about this place resembles a typical business office.
Take the secretary. He looks maybe a few years older than me with messy blond hair and a couple of piercings in his lips and brow. He’s wearing a shirt with a skull on it and an array of leather bands ornament his wrists. And when he got up to get something from the printer earlier, I noticed he didn’t have on any shoes.
When I first walked into the office and saw him sitting behind the desk, frantically digging through the desk drawer, I thought maybe he had snuck in and was about to steal something. But then he greeted me with a friendly smile and asked me if I had an appointment. That’s when I realized I judged him simply on his looks and felt terrible about it. That’s also when I realized just how strange this office is.
That revelation sent a bit of relief through me. I had decided to quit my last job of writing articles for an online website because it was boring and kind of repetitious. I’ve always loved writing, but that job sucked the enjoyment out of it. Still, it was a job and paid decently, at least for a junior in college. But a year after I first started, and rounding into the start of my senior year, I craved a change. I wanted to be able to wake up in the morning and be pumped to go to work. And yeah, I realize a lot of people don’t love their jobs. But, for me, writing sometimes feels like creating art. And forcing art usually doesn’t work very well. And in my case, it didn’t. Sure, the articles I wrote were decent enough, but not great. And I wanted—want—to do something great.
I just needed to figure out what that was.
So, after running the idea of changing jobs by Kayden—which of course, he supported—I made a choice to start applying for jobs that sounded appealing. A handful of applications and callbacks later, and here I am, at the untraditional The Offbeat Go Daily, waiting for an interview.
I’m not going to lie, the name of the place was what drew me in. Usually, I’m more of a traditional sort of person, but the name screams adventurous and I’ve been wanting that lately. Then I started reading some of their published articles and columns and wow, just wow, I really want to write for them. Not only do they cover tough, unconventional topics, but their writers are extremely detailed, as if they experienced the event firsthand. It sounded like the complete opposite of my old job, which preferred that I list only the basic facts and never write pieces that would offend people, even though that isn’t possible—someone will always be offended no matter how careful I am with my words.
“You want a sucker?” The secretary interrupts my thoughts.
I blink up from the floor and find him leaning over his desk with a huge jar of suckers in his hand.
Definitely the first time I’ve been offered a sucker at a job interview.
“Um, sure.” I push to my feet, dig out a pink one, and peel off the wrapper. “Thanks.” I pop the sucker into my mouth and grind my teeth against it, trying to alleviate my stress.
“Suckers are awesome stress relievers, right?” He sets the jar down on the cluttered desk.
I nod, removing the sucker from my mouth. “Is it that obvious how nervous I am?” I bite down on my tongue. It might not be the smartest move to tell the secretary of the place you’re hoping to get hired at that you’re nervous.
He shrugs, leaning back in his chair and popping a sucker into his mouth. “All the potential newbies usually are, so don’t sweat it.” He swivels the chair from side to side, the sucker clanking against his teeth. “A little advice. Evie’s pretty chill. She’ll probably ask you a few questions about your past jobs and your experience. But mostly, she’ll just ask you about your life and then come to a decision on whether or not she likes you.”
“But how will she know if I’m a good writer then?”
“She’s already read some of your work. If she hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Oh.” My palms begin to sweat again as my nervousness begins to grow.
He smiles. “That’s a good thing, Callie. It means she likes your work.”
“Right.” I nod, pretending I’m more relaxed than I am. Really, I’m a nervous wreck.
This place is so different from what I’m used to, but I guess that’s what I’m looking for, right?
I sure hope so.
You’ll be fine, Callie. You can do this. You have the qualifications, you’ve done your research, and you wore your lucky outfit.
My lucky outfit consists of a black button top, pinstriped pants, and black heels with white stripes over the toes. It’s the same outfit I wore when I got my first job and the one after that.
Of course, my confidence flies right out the window when a woman rushes into the office, wearing holey jeans, a black T-shirt, a studded belt, and a pair of clunky boots. She looks as though she was just at a concert and at first I wonder if she’s a journalist here, but th
en the secretary calls her Evie.
That’s Evie?
I think I may have overdressed…
No, you’re fine. You look professional and tidy.
I mentally shake my head at myself. Take a look around you, Callie. This place isn’t looking for professional and tidy.
The secretary grins at Evie as she stops in front of the desk, red-faced and out of breath. “You’re late.”
She tosses her bag into the open door to an office then combs her fingers through her purple and black hair. “I know. I know. But my car wouldn’t start, and then I got an email from…” Her gaze lands on me. “You don’t work for me, do you?”
I shift in my seat. “Um, no. I’m Callie Lawrence. I’m here for the job interview.”
“It’s your three o’clock,” the secretary adds, reaching for a coffee mug.
She glances at him and he raises his brows with an amused twinkle in his eyes.
“Oh, yeah, right. My three o’clock.” She eyeballs me over. From the unimpressed look in her eyes, I’m betting my lucky outfit is going to be no longer lucky. “Well, why don’t you come into my office so we can get this started.”
Nodding, I rise to my feet and follow her inside the office that consists of a cluttered desk, a computer, and a window with a view of the parking lot. A typical office except for the hundreds of newspaper clippings, articles, and photos taped to the walls.
“It’s how I keep my research organized,” she clarifies when she notes me staring at her walls. “I know it looks pretty chaotic, but I swear there’s a system to it. Well, if you can call chaos a system.” The corners of her lips quirk as she plops down into a chair.
The trace of a smile gives me a drop of hope that perhaps I haven’t completely failed the interview yet.
“Go ahead, have a seat.” She gestures at a chair in front of me. “And tell me a little bit about yourself and why you want to work here.”
I toss the sucker into a trashcan then sink down into the chair and discreetly wipe my damp palms on my legs for the tenth time. “My name’s Callie Lawrence, which you already know. I’m a senior at UW and will be graduating in the fall with my bachelor’s degree in English—”
She holds up her hand, cutting me off, and my nerves skyrocket.
“I know your credentials—I read the resume you sent in. I’m not looking to hear a repeat of it. What I want to know is what makes you unique in the sea of journalists out there. Because The Offbeat Go Daily is all about unique. We pride ourselves on interesting stories no one else is reporting and different angles. A lot of our projects require our journalists to do a bit of undercover work, and some of the jobs can be sketchy sometimes and require a lot of thinking outside the box. But I can’t figure out if you’re the type of person who fits that profile just based upon a resume.” She rests her arms on her desk. “So tell me a little bit about yourself that I didn’t already read about on your resume—tell me your life story, the good and the bad.” She slants forward. “Tell me how you became the Callie Lawrence that’s sitting in front of me today.”
Seriously?
I resist the urge to bite my fingernails, even though I desperately want to. “Um, well, where do I start?”
“How about from the beginning?” she suggests, reclining back in her chair. “And don’t leave out the easy or difficult parts. It’s those that are going to make you stand out.”
So, she wants to know my story. Like my life story. The good and the bad. Do I have the guts to do it? Tell her all the important facts that made me who I am today. About how the last few years I’ve lived a pretty ordinary, but lovely life. How on my twelfth birthday my brother’s best friend stole my good life away and shattered me when he raped me. How I locked the secret up and it ate away at me on the inside, nearly destroying me. How I lost all my friends. Was called a freak. Was bullied. How I slinked in the shadows, wishing I was invisible until the day I coincidently crossed paths with Kayden Owens while his dad was beating him. How that night would change my life forever in the best way possible. How when I went to college, I started to heal. How I fell in love. How I finally told my secret.
How I became Callie Lawrence, and one day in the future will become Callie Lawrence-Owens, a soon-to-be college graduate who dreams of writing articles and pieces that will help others who are stuck in the darkness.
I take a deep breath. “Well, I was born in…”
Two
Kayden
“Hey, man, are you coming to the party tonight?” Jason, a guy who plays on the field with me, asks as we head out of the classroom.
“I’m not sure yet.” Honestly, I probably won’t. While I’ve never minded a party here or there, I’m starting to grow tired of them. Plus, Callie’s not a huge fan. And between jobs, school, and practices, we don’t have a lot of free time, so every ounce of free time we get, we try to spend it together. “Probably not.”
He rolls his eyes. “You never come, man. What’s up with that?”
I shrug as I dig my phone from out of my pocket as it buzzes. “I’m just not that in to parties.”
He walks with me as I make a right down the crowded hallway, heading for the exit doors. “You sure that’s all it is?”
“Yeah. What else would it be about?”
“I don’t know. Maybe something else.”
I just start to read the incoming message, which is from Seth, but the insinuation in his tone causes me to glance up at him. “If you want to say something, just spit it out.”
Jason has never been my favorite person. He’s cocky and kind of a snob, which causes friction on the field. Normally, I don’t hang out with people like him, but there’s this sort of unwritten rule that even off the field, the team has to act decently to each other.
He shrugs, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Some of the guys and I are wondering if you don’t come to the team’s parties because that uptight fiancé of yours won’t let you.”
At first I don’t think I heard him right, mostly because Callie has never come off as uptight to anyone. Shy and quiet, sure. But uptight?
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I slow to a stop and step toward him.
He’s a couple of inches shorter than me but has got me by at least fifty pounds. Still, my height gives off the intimidation factor I need, and he steps back an inch or two.
“Look, I didn’t mean anything by it.” He raises his hands in front of him.
“Didn’t mean anything by it?” I crook my brow at him. “You called my fiancé uptight, which she’s not. And you’ve met her like what? A total of two times, so how the fuck would you know what kind of a person she is.”
“Sorry man.” He looks anything but sorry. “Maybe uptight was the wrong choice of words.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be talking about my fiancé at all.”
“Maybe not.” He backs away with a trace of a smirk on his face. What the smirk means is beyond me, but it raises my anger to a whole new level.
Shaking my head, I storm down the hallway in the opposite direction of Jason. When I reach the doors at the end, I push outside and step beneath the cloudy sky. The cool autumn breeze sweeps over me as I stride across the grass toward my car so I can drive over to the practice stadium where I’ll spend the entire evening working out and running plays with the team. Then I’ll go home and hang with Callie for about an hour until I pass out. Early morning, five days a week, I go to work, afternoons are reserved for classes, and weekends are for games.
My routine is pretty hardcore right now, which is understandable since I’m about to graduate and will probably be going to the draft. But I miss Callie a lot. Even though we live with each other, I barely see her. Right now she’s in between jobs, so we do have a bit of extra time. But a couple of weeks ago when she was working, I didn’t even get that hour at night. The only thing that helps me continue with this stressful schedule is that eventually, I’ll make it to a point where my entire life won’t be a crazy mes
s of rushing here and there. Then I’ll be able to take care of Callie like she does me and then I’ll get to spend more time with her.
As I reach my car, my phone buzzes again, reminding me I never read the message from Seth. This text is from him too. Knowing Seth, he more than likely sent me some silly meme—yeah, he’s that friend. So when I open the text and see that it’s an actual message, I grow worried. Especially when I see it has to do with Callie.
Seth: Any chance you can skip out on practice? Our darling little Callie is upset and could use some cuddle time, and unfortunately, my cuddles don’t seem to cheer her up much. Don’t know why. I’ve been told I’m like the best cuddler ever.
My worry immediately magnifies as I hurry and climb in my car.
Me: Is everything okay?
Seth: Yeah, it’s not like an emergency. I think she’s just bummed out about the job interview, and you two have barely seen each other for the last couple of weeks, so I think some Kayden cuddle time might cheer her up. She won’t ask you herself. You know how she is about asking you to do things for her, especially stuff like skip out on practices.
I start up my car.
Me: Yeah, I know. She’s always putting everyone else before herself.
I really do know that. And it’s part of the reason why I got so pissed off about Jason calling her uptight. Sure, Callie isn’t a flirt that giggles twenty-four seven like most of the girls Jason hangs out with. No, Callie isn’t like that at all. She’s one of the sweetest, most unselfish, caring people I know. She’s perfect, even when she’s having a bad day, even when we’re pissed off at each other.
Secrets We Buried Page 1
