by Callie Rae
“Jesse, will you go get me more ice chips?” I’m barely able to push out the air needed for those words.
“We can call the nur—”
I cut him off, desperate for him to just go. “Please.”
I look up at him with eyes so hard I know it cuts him deep. I need a minute without his hope filling the room like there is something to grasp onto here. Because I have nothing, no hope to give.
I soften my voice because I don’t want to upset him. I don’t want to feel anything, let alone his pain.
“Please, I want you to get it.”
His jaw tenses, hurt filling his eyes. I look away. I’ve given him enough of myself today. I hear the shuffle of his feet and the door softly clicks shut letting me know he is gone. I wince at the sound. My entire body shivers like someone just took a nail down a chalkboard. My teeth clench and grind together as I try to get a grip on the tremors coursing through me.
“Fallon. He’s been here every single night since you arrived. He’s been nothing but supportive.”
My mom’s disapproving tone used to sting. But that was before. Now I don’t care. She doesn’t even realize what’s happening right now. How could she? She can’t feel it, she can’t see it… The only way she’d understand is if she crawled inside my head or I magically found the right words to express how it feels to have a virus take over your insides and turn them black.
“I just needed to breathe. I needed a moment where we didn’t share the same air,” I say. “Where all of your hopes weren’t suffocating me.”
My mom sits on the side of my bed and reaches for my hand. “Oh, baby. That will get better. It just takes time. You’re one of the strongest women I know. You will get through this.”
I pull my hand back. There it is again. The hope.
“Will you lay me back down, please?”
Chapter 5
Fallon
Since the doctor approved me for physical therapy, they haven’t sedated me one bit. It’s too much of a liability. But now that I’m completely coherent, I really fucking don’t want to be. They wasted no time getting me started, either. I’m supposed to go tomorrow.
The hospital has also taken it upon themselves to let the police department know that I’m cleared to make a statement about the accident, effectively ruining my plans of doing absolutely nothing today. I wanted to think about nothing, see nothing, do nothing—just snore my day away and not be present. But instead, here we are, all piled up in my room waiting on the officers to come today.
Jesse is scowling in the corner. Cason is pacing at the end of my bed, while Jade sits in the chair flipping through a fashion magazine.
My mom sighs. “I’m going to take a restroom break. Maybe breathe some air with a little less intensity.”
I smirk at her. Both Jesse and Cason are intense. But honestly, they have no reason to worry. The police were paid off by the Callaways anyway. I’m not even sure why they’re coming to get my statement. It’s not like Jesse didn’t already give it for me.
Jesse’s eyes follow my mom all the way to the bathroom. The moment the door clicks shut, Cason stops pacing, Jesse stands straight, and Jade tosses the magazine to the side. They’re all being ridiculous. I roll my eyes in annoyance.
“What are you going to say?” Jesse whisper-yells.
“That I got in the car with my psycho ex because I was scared, and he lost control of the car,” I repeat to Jesse verbatim what he repeatedly has told me all day. He tired me out to the point that I stopped responding.
“And why were we there?” he says, prompting me.
“I texted you my location so you could help me,” I grit out.
He nods. “Good.”
“Great. Glad we can all agree.” I sigh loudly and lean back on the bed.
There is a quick rap on the door. I look over to Jesse, then back at the door when it creaks open slowly, dragging the annoying sound out. They aren’t even in the room yet, and I’m ready for them to leave.
An officer sticks his head through the door and looks at me. “Excuse me. Fallon Blake?”
I nod my head.
The officer comes into the room further and someone—his partner, I assume—follows behind him.
“I’m Officer Greene, and this is Officer Folse. We’re here to take your statement.”
I nod again, and Officer Greene pulls out a pad with a pen stuck in the spiral.
“Okay, let’s start with the easy stuff. Can you tell me your name and age, please?”
My mom comes out of the bathroom, interrupting my thought pattern. “Excuse me. I’m her mother. Sorry, I needed to use the restroom.”
She takes a seat next to me.
“That’s fine.” He nods and then looks to me again. “So, your name and age?”
“Fallon Blake, and I’m seventeen,” I say.
“Eighteen,” Jesse says from the corner.
I look over to him.
“What?” I ask.
“Eighteen. You turned eighteen the day after the accident,” he croaks out.
My body goes cold as I begin to count back over the last few days in my head.
Officer Greene looks over at Jesse. “And you are?”
“I’m her boyfriend,” he says.
“Name?” the officer asks.
Jesse grits his teeth together, but answers the officer. “Jesse Callaway.”
“You were at the scene of the accident, weren’t you?” Officer Folse asks immediately, recognizing his name.
Jesse nods.
Officer Greene turns back to me. “So, eighteen?”
I hear him, but I’m too busy confirming what Jesse already knew. I missed my eighteenth birthday. It’s just one more thing taken away from me by Marcus.
Someone clears their throat, and I reluctantly tune back into the conversation.
“Miss Blake, can you confirm that you’re eighteen?” the officer says.
I nod.
“Okay, Miss Blake. Can you tell me what happened?” Officer Greene asks, his pen poised in his hand, ready to write down all the gory details.
I clear my throat again. The air suddenly becomes thick.
“I, uh… My ex—” I cough, then take a minute to regain my composure. “Marcus. He asked me to go somewhere with him. I got in the truck because he was scaring me, and I was afraid of what would happen if I said no. We were driving when he suddenly lost control of the vehicle, and we swerved off the road.” I clench my fist under the covers. “That’s the last thing I remember.”
“Do you remember where you were coming from?” Officer Folse asks.
“I…” I stumble over my words, looking up at Jesse.
A slight, almost unrecognizable shake of his head tells me all I need to know.
“I don’t.”
Jesse speaks up. “She texted me her location. She was at Marcus’s family's warehouse, where I assume he asked her to meet him.”
“Is this what happened?” Officer Greene asks, looking at me.
I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them quickly. “Yes. I sort of remember the warehouse.”
“Why would he ask you to meet you there? It seems like an odd meeting place.” Officer Greene asks.
“I don’t know. He didn’t seem okay. He was acting kind of off,” I tell the officer.
“Off how?” he asks.
“He was sweating a lot and he seemed to be almost…like, vibrating,” I tell them.
The officer nods. “His toxicology report came back positive for several substances, including cocaine. That would explain his behavior.”
I sigh and sink further into my bed. I kind of assumed there was more going on than just Marcus being a psycho, but the confirmation makes it feel more real. I suddenly feel like the entire world is pressing down on every part of my body. And all I want, all I need, is to close my eyes.
Jesse must see the exhaustion I’ve been suddenly consumed with, because he pushes off the wall and faces the officers.
“I think w
e’re done here,” Jesse states clearly. I recognize the tone he uses, because it’s the one that tells the entire room he’s in charge.
Officer Greene tenses at Jesse’s dominance, but doesn’t cower. “Sure, we can be done. Your story matches up with all the witness statements. I just need you to read over this and sign at the bottom, stating that you’ve read and agree with the statement we’ve recorded and have answered to the best of your knowledge.”
He brings the sheet over to me with the pen he pulled out of his notepad. I read over the statement, which is an almost verbatim account of our conversation, and then sign. I hand the sheet back over to the officer, and then hit the button to lower myself down until I’m lying flat. I roll over and sink fully into my bed.
I’m never alone. It’s like they want me to come back to reality to lose my damn mind every time. Someone is almost always here, but for once, it wasn’t Jesse this afternoon. He didn’t stick around long after the police left.
Tonight, though, he comes in freshly showered, holding the kind of bag he occasionally appears with. Sometimes there are new pajamas in it; other times it’s reading material or games. Courtesy of Jade, I assume. At this point, I just ignore everyone’s presence unless I’m forced to pretend I care what is happening around me.
He kisses me on the head and drops the bag at his feet next to the cot the nurse brought in here for him. I think they felt bad; every night they’d come in and find him asleep in the chair. Eventually, I woke up to him in the cot next to me. I didn’t hate it.
He’s not in his usual jeans and plain t-shirt. Instead, he’s wearing a button-down and khaki pants. He even has on dress shoes I’ve only ever seen sitting in the back of his closet. And none of it feels right. This isn’t my Jesse.
“Why are you dressed like that?” I ask.
He pulls his shoes off and leans back on the scratchy sheets the hospital provided for him with a sigh. “Get some sleep. You have a big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, big day. Right.” I turn away from him to focus on my usual spot on the blank wall.
The last thing I want to do right now is think about tomorrow. I don’t know how I’m going to get through it. I don’t want to go. What comes after physical therapy anyway? Do they let me go home? What home?
As though he can hear my thoughts zig-zagging, Jesse sighs again, breaking the silence of the room. For once, I’m not mad about it.
“I’m fine, okay?” He turns his head to look at me to make sure I heard him. “Just worry about getting better.”
Better? What does that even mean? Everyone has been throwing this word around like it’s just a thing I should do. But no one knows what it means if I’m better. Do they still love who I am then? Do I still exist in their world? I don’t even know what my world being better looks like.
What if I never get better? What if this is who I am now?
The TV is on mute. It has been since I woke up. Until now, the silence hasn’t bothered me.
I can’t take the question back. It’s what we are all wondering, and now that I’ve acknowledged it, I can’t erase the evidence. It’s hanging in the air like a deep fog ready to suffocate me and anyone who stays too close.
Suddenly, the silence becomes unforgiving. It’s settling over me like a thick blanket, smothering me.
What if I never get better?
Jesse turns away once more. I can hear his controlled breathing. I know his wheels are turning. I know he’s considering the same thing. But he can’t say the words—the ones we are all scared of. The ones that leave us without a future. But to be honest, did I ever really have a future? This isn’t a fairytale life; it doesn’t have a happy ending. I’ve learned that lesson time and again.
I’m unable to contain the question that has suddenly popped into my head. “How did it happen?”
I don’t really want to know. I don’t want to ever think of him again…but I need to. I need to understand. To try to make sense of something, anything.
“How did what happen?” Jesse asks, the break in his voice telling me he knows exactly what I’ve asked, but is unwilling to acknowledge it unless I press the issue.
“Tell me how he died,” I say.
“Fallon, I’m not sure—”
I cut him off. “I want to know.” I take a deep breath before continuing. “Please, just tell me.”
He turns his head toward me. “Okay.”
Then Jesse looks down so he can’t see my face. I silently thank him for that, because whatever I feel in these next few moments is for me. No one else.
“I didn’t see the truck crash. Marcus had driven off with you, and I jumped into the nearest vehicle. I pulled up to find the truck already wrapped around a pole.” He sighs, then takes a few moments to breathe. “I ran toward the truck and pulled you out as quickly as I could. I handed you over to Cason. When I looked back, he was moaning. Cason screamed for me to get out, that it was about to blow.”
I sink further into the rough blankets the hospital uses on the beds as he continues.
“So, I ran. When I got to where you were on the side of the road, the truck blew. I turned back, and it was engulfed in flames.”
I wince. That was almost me. And I’m not sure if I’m wincing because I barely made it out or because I wish I hadn’t.
Then Jesse speaks so softly it’s almost a whisper. “There was no way he was making it out of there alive.”
I tighten the covers and squeeze my eyes shut. “Good.”
“You ready to do this?” Cason asks as he rubs his palms together.
I look up to his mouth, tipped into a playful grin. Cason’s childlike antics are always welcome; they give me a tiny spark of life on the inside, giving me the smallest hint that I’m not completely dead in there. I grip his forearms as I slide over into the wheelchair the nurse is holding still for me.
“Where’s Jesse?” I ask as I get situated in the seat of the chair.
Cason’s grin falters a bit, but it comes back even stronger. “He wanted to be here, but he had to take care of some things first. He just couldn’t get back in time.”
I look down. “Oh.”
The conversation from last night replays in my head, on repeat. I’m still preoccupied by the unanswered question.
“It’s fine because I’m here. We’ve got this! We are bomb-ass Callaways. Nothing will keep us down,” he says, doing his best to pump me up.
“Cason, I’m not a Callaway,” I say.
He stops and looks down at me, the playful look wiped from his face. He comes closer and squats down until he’s settled between my feet and grasps onto the armrests on either side of my chair. He brings his face towards mine, so close that I can smell the spearmint toothpaste he used this morning. He’s so far into my personal space, I almost can’t stand it.
I swallow hard when I meet his eyes. They are full of anger, defeat, and brokenness. He’s not hiding himself right now; his broken blue eyes show me just how much he feels in a day.
“You. Are. A. Callaway. I don’t care if you have to work some things out up here…” He taps my temple. “…or down here.” He places his palm on my chest. “You’ve earned your place in our family, sis. We won’t survive without you, so no matter how dead you feel inside right now, understand one thing: we will never let go. We’ve got you, just like you had us. Now, let’s go show therapy how we’re gonna fucking do this. All right?”
He searches my eyes for something, anything besides doubt. He understands what it feels like to have to push forward. He understands what it’s like to not be seen, heard, or understood. To not want to be. I see it. It’s lonely in hell, but maybe we don’t have to be alone. Maybe just having one person see it is enough.
My mom pops her head in the door behind Cason. “Are you ready?”
But I’m still too busy drowning in Cason’s pain, in my pain, to respond. He isn’t a Callaway either, but he’s still sitting in front of me acting every bit the name. He’s still fighting. This
poor boy who could’ve given up so many times is still fighting. And I’m over here wondering why.
“Fallon, are you ready?” my mom asks again.
Cason’s eyes hold steady on mine. He’s telling me in his own way that he isn’t letting me sink. He’s as determined as ever. I feel sorry for him. I’m just another thing that’s going to let him down.
“She’s ready.”
Chapter 6
Jesse
“How’s she doing?” I ask before Cason can say hello.
“It’s…going,” Cason says. “It might’ve gone better if you were here.”
“Don’t give me that shit. You know why I can’t be there today,” I growl into the phone as I attempt to put my slacks on.
I pull my button-down out of my gym bag next and shrug it on. The clothes almost feel like a cage.
“Man, I know. But we’re the only thing keeping her holding on instead of losing herself to whatever hole she’s trying to crawl into. She almost gave up today when I told her you weren’t coming. She needs you as a lifeline, whether she knows it or not.”
“I’m sure you fixed her right up like always.” I roll my eyes in the bathroom mirror as I balance my phone between my ear and shoulder to knot my tie.
“Don’t do that shit, bro. Don’t act like you aren’t the only reason her ass is struggling in that hallway right now. So why don’t you get your ass here? Besides, they won’t let me miss any more days of school. Coach even threatened to bench me. If one of us doesn’t show up, the season is over, and you know it.”
“They can’t do that shit,” I growl. “They know what the fuck is going on.”
“Yeah, man, they can. You know Coach doesn’t give a shit who we are,” he says. “I can’t do anything here. We hold no power.”
“Fuck. All right, I’ll figure something out.”
“Here’s a suggestion: tell James to fuck off. He didn’t deliver, so the deal is off.”
“You know I can’t do that. He held up his part of his deal and he’ll make all of us miserable making sure we know it. He’d fuck with her, Cason.”
