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The Resolution of Callie & Kayden Page 2
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Seth’s face turns red as he works to stifle his laughter, but it gets the best of him and he hurries and places his hand over his mouth. ‘I cannot believe you just said balls.’
‘You know what?’ I say as we reach the register. ‘I can believe it. I’m not the same girl I used to be.’
He lowers his hand from his mouth and the humor dissolves from his expression. ‘You’re so right. You have changed. You’re so much stronger now.’
Even though it’s our turn to order, we give each other a hug. ‘We’ve both come so far,’ I tell him because Seth has had his own struggles as well and yet here we are – happy, healthy, and enjoying life. Survivors, that’s what we are. I just wish Kayden could see that about himself. Realize just how far he’s come.
Maybe Seth’s right. Maybe it’s time to grab that little space between Kayden and me. After all, I have faced worse than asking my boyfriend to move in with me.
Way, way worse.
Chapter 2
#107 Have a Winter Wonderland Magical Moment.
Kayden
I’ve been in a downer of a mood lately. It’s nowhere near the same as it used to be when I’d get so down I’d lock myself in the bathroom and cut out the pain by slicing my own skin open and letting myself bleed. I won’t go back to that place no matter what happens to me. I refuse to live in that dark hole ever again. I want things to remain light. I just wish I could fully grab onto it like Callie grabs life, but there’s some things – fears – holding me back. An abundance of things bothering me when I really start to analyze it. Like the fact that Thanksgiving is in less than a month, making it almost a year since my father stabbed me then bailed with my mother before he could pay the consequences. It was the year when my already crumbling life fell apart. The year when I just about gave up and ended it all.
But I didn’t. I survived and I should be grateful – which I am – but it still bothers me that my father and mother are who-knows-where, doing who-knows-what, maybe without a care in the world.
Then there’s the fact that my oldest brother, Dylan, invited me to his house for Thanksgiving to a family dinner. I’m not sure what to do with that one, how to react to the word family. I can’t even picture the concept of sitting around the table with my brother and his wife and all of her family, laughing and chatting while we stuff our stomachs with food. Dylan said he would have invited Tyler, too, but neither of us has seen him in quite a while, and we worry that he’s addicted to drugs, living on the streets somewhere like he’s done in the past. Or worse, maybe he’s not alive at all.
I feel like I’m stuck in the past, and I want to move forward. My therapist tells me I need to all the time. But it’s more complicated than it seems and depressing to take in sometimes – the lack of family I have and the fact that I’ll never truly have a group of people there for me.
There is one person who always gets me through my despair, though.
Callie Lawrence.
She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. My ray of sunshine through the rain, the clouds, the storm that’s hovered over my head. She can make me smile when I’m down, laugh when I’m unhappy. She’s the one person who has ever loved me, and who I completely and wholly love back in a way I can barely understand sometimes.
I honestly thought I could never love anyone the way I love her. That I’d never know how to love since I never really learned how to. However, Callie showed me how to open my heart – at least, when it comes to loving her. She makes it so easy and sometimes it confuses me because why couldn’t my family just do it – love each other instead of being so full of ugly hatred?
‘Kayden, get your head in the practice!’ my coach hollers as he waves at me to get my ass on the field. I’ve been standing on the sidelines, staring at the end field for who knows how long, lost in my thoughts.
Getting my head back into practice mode, I jog into the center of the field, hooking the chin strap as I join my other teammates in the huddle. We’re in our practice uniforms, the field icy from last night’s intense temperature drop, and it’s still fucking cold. But it’s good to be outdoors, distracting myself from the thoughts that haunt me whenever I’m in my room alone. Playing clears my head more than anything else, except for maybe talking to Callie, who I get to see when practice is over.
Still, even when I’m playing, I can hear his faint voice telling me what to do. It’s always there whenever I’m doing anything athletic and sometimes when I’m asleep. I hate that I hear it, but after years of it being drilled in my mind, I can’t get rid of the sound.
Run.
Do better.
Go faster.
Play harder.
Keep going until you break.
It’s only when I’m dripping with sweat and completely in the game that I can barely hear my father’s voice in my head, my heart thudding too loud to hear anything but the overworked beat of it. It makes me love/hate football – love it for me, but hate it because of him.
Still, I focus on what I need to do for practice, putting my heart into playing well, running the drills, throwing, catching, playing as good as I always do. By the time we’re finished and I’m heading to the locker room, the sweat has soaked through my uniform and my brain is too exhausted to think so I’m feeling pretty good. Coach pulls me aside before I go inside and tells me how good I’m doing, but then gives me some things to work on. He usually does this, but he’s been on my case a lot this year since we’ve been playing so well. There’s been a lot of talk about my future in football, even though I’m still a sophomore and still have a ways to go before the draft comes into my sights. I’m grateful for the time, too, because I’m not even sure what I want to do anyway.
My whole life my dad threw me into sports and I always excelled at them, so it just seemed like that was the path I’d follow. And I love playing, but sometimes I wonder if there’s more to life than this. If maybe there’s something out there for me that’s not connected to my father’s dream for me and the sound of his voice constantly haunting me with every run and throw I make.
After I go to the locker room, I take a quick shower and change into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Then I slip my jacket on and head out to my car in the parking lot. It’s not the best-looking car in the world, but it’s better than my motorcycle and gets me to places. Plus, the great part is I bought it myself, from the part-time job I have at the local gym. It’s all mine; my own little pride and joy. Not my father’s.
I climb inside and rev up the engine, tossing my bag into the backseat. It’s getting late; the sun has gone behind the mountains, so I turn on the headlights and push the car into drive. I’m about to pull out of the lot when I get a text message, my phone buzzing in my pocket
Pressing on the brake, I stop the car near the exit to take my phone out of my pocket, smiling because I know who the text is from before I even check it.
Callie: Hey! Where r u? I thought we were supposed to meet at your dorm at seven, but you’re not here …
Me: Sorry, I’m running a little late. Coach wanted to talk about stuff.
I frown at the intentional avoidance of the subject. I haven’t talked to Callie about the uncertainty of my future in football – or the uncertainty in my future period. She’s always so positive and knows exactly what she wants out of life; it makes it difficult to talk to someone who knows what they want.
Me: R u at my dorm right now?
Callie: Yeah, in your room … Niko let me in.
I pull a face at the mention of my roommate. Not that I don’t like him or anything, but he has some serious issues and he’s high half the damn time.
Kayden: Is he with you right now?
Callie: No, he just left … why?
Kayden: Just wondering … I’m heading there now. Be there in like 10.
Callie: K :) And I have something really important I want to talk to you about … It’s about us
I grow uneasy, wondering what it is, that she might want to take
a break from us or something else equally as bad. I really don’t think that is it, but my mind always seems to go to that dark place whenever there’s an unknown in front of me. I can’t help worrying Callie will hurt me because she has the power to. She owns my heart and soul completely and she could easily break it.
Lost in my worries, I pull out onto the road and drive toward my dorm building. By the time I’m parking the car, it’s snowing like a blizzard. Massive snowflakes splatter against the windshield and instantly soak through my clothes as I hop out and jog across the frosted grass to the entrance doors. I breathe in the warmth as I step into the foyer area.
It’s nearing Halloween and everything is decorated in black and orange, fake spider webs everywhere, along with this stupid skeleton that makes spooky noises every time someone walks by. There are a few people sitting around in the lounging area, laughing and talking, a couple of whom I know, so I give them a wave and say hello before going to the elevator.
The closer I get to my room, the more eager I get to touch Callie, wishing I could do it all the time. Unfortunately, I’m not in the same dorm building as her and it makes staying together all night a bit of a pain in the ass. Honestly, it’d be easier if we just lived together, but that is one hell of a big step and I’m not sure if I’m – we’re – ready for that or if she’d even want to.
When I arrive at my room, I punch in the code and walk in, smiling even before I see her. But then I frown the moment I step over the threshold when I discover the room is empty, just two unmade twin beds, some empty Dorito bags, and a lot of Coke cans on the floor, which makes me miss Luke as a roommate and his need to keep everything clean and organized. There’s also a stack of DVDs on my nightstand, which I’m assuming Callie brought over since they weren’t here earlier.
I’m scratching my head, wondering where she went when my phone vibrates from inside my pocket. My eyebrows knit as I take it out and swipe my finger across the screen.
Callie: Put your coat on and meet me outside on the east side of the campus yard.
Me: Why does this sound so suspicious … you’re not planning my murder, r u?
Callie: Not tonight. I saved my roll of duct tape and shovel for another time ;)
I can’t help but chuckle at her adorableness.
Me: All right, just as long as no shovel and tape are involved, I’ll b out in a few :)
Callie: k, see ya soon :)
I stuff my phone back into my pocket, wondering what she’s up to. She’s been so happy lately, even with the fact that Caleb – the guy who raped her when she was twelve – is still out there somewhere in the world, living his life, without paying for what he did not just to Callie, but Luke’s sister as well, along with a few others. He likely won’t ever have to pay for what he did to them. He’ll go on living his life, doing whatever he wants, while his victims are left to cope with the destruction. A huge flaw in life and one I understand way too well.
Shaking the depressing thought from my head, I tug my beanie over my brown hair before I depart toward the cold again. I try to stay upbeat as I take the elevator to the bottom floor, go back outside, and wind around the building, heading to the side where Callie instructed me to go. The leafless trees around the building are decorated with lights that reflect against the ice covering everything. It’s freaking freezing out here, my breath puffing out in a cloud in front of my face. I should have worn a heavier coat. But once I step out into the open area on the east side between a few benches and rows of trees I stop caring that I’m outdoors and freezing my ass off.
Callie is standing in the middle of the frosted trees and lights, staring down at the ground. She has her head tipped down, her coat zipped up to her chin, and she’s kicking at the snow with the tip of her boot. Her hood is down and snowflakes dot her long brown hair, but she doesn’t seem to mind, lost in her thoughts.
She’s beautiful.
Amazing.
Perfect.
I give myself a moment to appreciate everything that’s her before I walk toward her and make my presence known. She must hear my boots crunch against the snow because her gaze lifts and finds me before I reach her. Snow dots her eyelashes, her cheeks are flushed, and she has a smile on her face, her eyes so full of love I seriously nearly turn around and look over my shoulder to make sure there’s no one else standing there that she could be looking at.
‘Hey you,’ she says, still grinning at me. Then she shifts her weight and a hint of her nerves slips through, which makes me nervous as well.
Why would she be nervous?
‘Hey you, back.’ My feet move toward her on their own, wanting – needing – to be near her. ‘Why are you standing out here in the freezing cold?’
She holds up her finger, indicating to wait just a second. Then she glances at the leafless, snow-bitten tree beside her before she ducks behind it. A heartbeat later, music envelops me. When she steps back out from behind the tree, she’s smiling as the snowflakes swirl around us, almost moving with the slow rhythm of the song.
‘What do you have back there?’ I ask. ‘An iPod dock or something?’
She shakes her head as she hikes through the snow toward me, reducing the space between us, something I’m ridiculously grateful for. In fact, I want it all gone – not a single drop of space left between our bodies.
‘No, it’s Luke’s stereo. Seth borrowed it from him so I could use it for this.’
My smile rises, the first time I’ve smiled all day. ‘God, he’s so weird with all that old crap he keeps around, right?’
‘Like all his mix tapes?’ she says with a soft laugh as she stops in front of me and tips her head back to look up at me.
I eliminate the rest of the space between us and put my hands on her hips. Suddenly, I become warm in the midst of the cold. ‘I seriously think he belongs in the eighties.’
‘Maybe he does.’ She loops her arms around the back of my neck and draws me closer. ‘What era do you think we’d belong in if we could go live in a different one?’
I consider what she said. ‘How about the sixties?’
She beams up at me. ‘We’d be all about the peace, love, and happiness.’
‘I think that sounds a lot like you.’ I tuck a strand of her damp hair behind her ear. ‘I’m not sure about me, though.’
Her forehead creases as I stroke her cheek with my finger, mesmerized by the softness of her skin. I’ve touched it a thousand times, yet every time is as amazing as the first.
‘You’ve seemed a little bit down lately. Has something been bothering you?’
‘I’ve just been thinking about some stuff.’ I trace a path up her jawline to her temple.
‘About family stuff?’
‘Yeah … I can’t help it … with the holidays coming. It’s just got me thinking.’
‘About your family?’
I swallow the stupid lump that has wedged its way up my throat. ‘Yeah, about my lack of one.’ I don’t really mean to say it because I don’t want to be a downer when clearly she had some sort of fun night planned, but it just slips out.
‘You have me,’ she says quietly, placing a hand on my stubbly cheek. ‘You always will.’
My heart tightens in my chest. ‘I know I do,’ I say, wishing it were that simple, that I did fully believe she’d always be here with me, that nothing would change, and that that could be enough in life. But I’ve been abandoned before, so there’s a bit of a skeptic in me.
Still, being here with her momentarily lifts my problems away, and I lean in to kiss her, unable to take the space between us any longer. However, she pulls away, stopping mid-kiss, and leaving me panting for air.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.
She lets out a shaky breath, jittery and shivering from the cold. ‘I have to ask you something … something really, really important.’
I search her eyes and I see the same nerves I noticed when I first walked up to her. ‘What’s wrong?’
She takes another unst
eady breath and her hold on me tightens, her fingers digging into the fabric of my coat, like she’s afraid to let me go. ‘Okay, so I have something I want you to think about, but I don’t want you to answer it tonight.’
‘Okay …?’ I’m trying not to get worried, but it’s hard when she’s acting this way.
Her eyes are wide and full of terror, but she refuses to look away from me. ‘Okay, so I’ve been thinking a lot about our … our living situation.’ Her chest rapidly rises and falls, causing a cloud of fog to rise around her face. ‘Remember how at the beginning of the school year I mentioned something about how much easier it’d be if we were living together?’
I waver, because I really don’t remember what she’s talking about, but it seems like maybe I should. ‘I vaguely remember you saying something about you wanting to move out of the dorm and get your own apartment.’
A loud exhale puffs from her lips. ‘Well, what I meant to say when I said it … or what I should have just flat out said is that maybe we should just … you and I,’ she gestures between the two of us, ‘live … together …’ she trails off, biting her lip, which has turned a bit blue from the cold.
I swallow hard, unsure how to answer. I have no idea how I feel about the idea. Excitement. Want. God, the want. But I’m fucking conflicted because within the want there’s a fear. Am I ready for that?
Yes.
No.
Yes.
No.
Maybe.
Shit.
Why can’t I just give her what she wants?
She deserves that.
Deserves more.
I’m feeling way too much at the moment. The old Kayden would be bailing out by now and running back to his room to find a razor because it’d be the easiest way to deal with this – or not deal with it anyway. But I don’t want to be that guy – become that guy again.
Callie watches me with hope in her eyes while I struggle to sort through all the confusion flowing through my mind. My lips part to try to explain to her what’s going on, even though I’m guessing it’s going to be a jumble of nonsense, but she quickly covers my mouth with her hand.