The Redemption of Callie and Kayden (6 page)

“Why did you go to the party that night?”

“It’s always the same question with you.”

“Because it’s an important question.”

I shake my head as my pulse speeds up with either anger or

fear—I can’t tell. “I went there to beat Caleb Miller up. You know

that.”

“Yes, but why?”

“Why what?” I’m getting annoyed, frustrated, and pissed off,

and the anger snakes through my veins underneath my skin.

“Why did you beat him up?” It’s like he’s stuck on repeat and

I want him to shut the hell up.

My heart knocks inside my chest like a damn jackhammer

and all I want is something sharp or rough—anything that can

calm my pulse down. I’m glancing around in a panic, searching for

something, but the room is bare. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.

Fuck! “Because he hurt someone.” My voice comes out piercing

and uneven and makes me sound weak and pathetic.

He sits forward in the chair. “Someone you care about?”

“Obviously.” I shake my head, annoyed. My heart is still

beating too loud and I can barely think straight.

He raises his eyebrows. “Someone you love?”

My pulse speeds even more, erratic and without a distinct

beat. I feel it pulsating underneath every wound and scar on my

body. Love? Do I love Callie? Can I? “I don’t think I even know what

love is.”

He looks like he’s struck gold and found an insight into

what’s locked away in my soul. “Can you answer just one more

question for me?”

I throw my hands in the air exasperatedly. “Do whatever the

hell you want. You’re already on a roll.”

He asks, “Do you think you deserve love?”

“I already told you I don’t even know what it is,” I mutter and

he waits for me to divulge more information. What does he want

from me? To tell him that my dad beats the shit out of me? That

my mom’s a drug-addicted zombie? That the only exchange of

love I’ve ever gotten is from Daisy and that felt about as plastic

and as fake as things can get.

He writes down a few notes, then clicks his pen and tucks it

away in his pocket before shutting his notebook again. “I think we

might have made some progress today.” He checks his watch and

then gets to his feet, retrieving his trench coat from off the back of the chair. “Keep it up, and maybe you can have visitors who are

not family.”

I slump back into the chair. “I’m not sure if I want visitors,” I

mumble.

He doesn’t seem to hear me. When he reaches the door, he

slips his arm through the sleeve of his jacket, secures the belt

around his waist, and sticks his hand into his pocket. “And Kayden,

keep using this, no matter how many times it breaks. We can

always get you a new one.” He throws a rubber band at me and I

catch it effortlessly. For a second I’m back on the field, running and catching the ball, free from life.

I wish I were back there, fixed and mended. But unlike the

rubber band, I’m not sure I can be fixed so easily.

Callie

“I can’t believe your truck doesn’t have a CD player,” Seth

says with his arm extended across the front of me as he fiddles

with the volume on the stereo. He has on a jacket, with the sleeves

pushed up, and skinny jeans. “Or an iPod hookup. I swear I’m

having flashbacks of mullets, spandex pants, and crimped hair.”

“I think you’re going back a little too far.” Luke has his hood

pulled over his head and a leather band on his wrist that has the

word redemption on it. I wonder if it means something to him or if

he believes in redemption. I wonder if I believe in it. He stretches

his arm in front of me and flips open the glove box. “Back to the

eight-track era.”

I cringe at how close he is, but then release the tension,

refusing to go back to that place. I zip up my jacket, because it’s

cold inside due to the fact that they keep rolling down the

windows to smoke.

It’s early in the morning, the sun is kissing the frosted land,

and the highway is a hazard from last night’s storm so we have to

drive slowly. There are a few cars stuck in the mounds of snow in

the strip of land in the center of the opposing traffic and people

have turned off onto the ramps because they’re too afraid to drive.

Luke and I are used to it though. It’s the conditions we grew up in.

Seth slaps his hand away from the glove box and Luke looks

at me in disbelief, but I just laugh. “No, eight-tracks were still in play in the eighties.”

“Early eighties,” Luke corrects. “They faded out by

mid-decade.”

I laugh because they are fighting over something so

ridiculous and I’m tired and nervous and my head’s in a very

strange place. “You guys are fighting like an old married couple.”

As soon as I say it, I want to take it back, because I’m not sure how Luke will take it.

When I look at Luke, he seems perfectly fine. He shrugs and

then sticks his hand into the glove box and pulls out a tape labeled

Let’s Get High. “Whatever,” he says and feeds it into the tape

player. “As long as I’m the guy in the relationship, it’s all good.”

Seth rolls his eyes. “Whatever, you’d totally be my bitch and

you know it.”

That’s it. I can’t hold it in any longer. My body falls forward

as I cover my mouth and my shoulders shake as I laugh into my

hand. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Yes, you can.” Seth pats my back. “I wouldn’t be me if I

didn’t say the first thing that pops into my head.”

He’s right. Seth is blunt and funny and he totally says

whatever the hell he wants. And I love him for it. I sit up, wiping

the tears from my eyes, and then give him a quick kiss on the

cheek. “Thank you for making me smile,” I say.

He grins. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

Luke shakes his head, but there’s a grin on his face so I know

he’s not offended. I like Luke. He’s not judgmental and he seems

accepting. I almost lean over to hug him and then realize how

weird it is because it doesn’t freak me out. What does that mean?

Crap. What does that mean?

“Come on Eileen,” by Dexy’s Midnight Runners, blasts out

from the speakers.

“This is so eighties,” Seth says and begins snapping his

fingers and bobbing his head. He really starts to get into it,

shaking his hips and shimmying frontward and backward. “Come

on, Callie, you know you want to dance. It’ll make you smile even

more.”

I grin from ear to ear. “No way.”

Cold air fills the cab as Luke cracks the window. The lighter

flicks and then the smell of cigarette smoke flows through the air.

Seth keeps dancing as he reaches into the pocket of his hoodie

and takes out his pack of cigarettes. Out of the corner of my eye, I

see Luke bobbing his head as he sucks on the end of his cigarette.

He takes a long drag, and then puckers his lips and a thin trail of

white smoke laces out of his mouth. Seth starts thrusting his hips

wildly as he flicks the end of his lighter and puts it up to the tip of the cigarette. The paper curls in and turns black as he takes a long

drag. The car starts rocking as the chorus comes on and both the

guys really start getting into it. The smoke burns my lungs and the

cold causes goose bumps to sprout all over my arms. I experience

almost every single detail of the moment and I decide to

experience it all.

“Oh fine, what the hell.” I start lifting my shoulders up and

down to the rhythm and Seth grins at me.

“That’s my girl,” he says and blows out a cloud of smoke with

his lips puckered out.

We both start doing this funny jiving thing with our hands

and Luke laughs as he cranks up the music. For a second I

transform myself into a dancer. When the chorus hits again we all

take a deep breath and belt out the lyrics at the top of our lungs. I raise my hands above my head and shut my eyes. It’ll be all right.

It’ll be all right. Kayden will be all right.

Because I’m here, dancing, smiling, and sitting between two

guys, and if that can happen, then anything’s possible.

Kayden

I’ve been in the clinic for a week now and today should be a

really good morning. Doug has informed me that I can have

visitors outside of family and that I can make a few phone calls

throughout the day. When he gives me time to make the phone

call, however, I get stuck on who to call. My first instinct is to call Callie, but I haven’t talked to her since it happened and I’m not

sure she wants to talk to me after finding me like that. The idea of

finding out scares the shit out of me. Besides, I’m trying to keep

my distance and protect her from me because the last thing she

needs is my instability and fucked-up head.

I dial Luke’s number and lean back in the bed, watching the

storm outside my window as the phone rings and rings.

“Kayden?” he says, sounding confounded. There’s an eighties

song playing in the background and I can hear a lot of giggling.

“What’s up?” It sounds so stupid after I say it. There’s a long

pause and then someone starts singing really loudly and really off

key. “Is that Seth in the background?”

“Yeah.” He hesitates again. “Are you okay?”

I flick the rubber band with my finger. It snaps back, hits my

wrist, and sends a sting through my arm. “Kind of… Why are you

with Seth?”

“Because… we’re in the truck.” He seems conflicted. “We’re

headed to Afton to see you actually.”

I snap the rubber band against my wrist a few more times,

but it’s not stilling the anxiety twisting inside me. “When you say

we you mean…”

“I mean, Seth, me and…” He trails off. “And Callie.”

The singing stops and so does the music.

“Who are you talking to?” Callie asks.

When I hear her voice I swear to God my heart stops. I clutch

at the chord and wrap it around my wrist until it’s tight and cuts

off the circulation. I stare outside at the slush on the ground and

the banks of snow around the mostly vacant parking lot.

“Umm…” Luke struggles for words.

“You can tell her,” I say, because if they’re headed here then

I’m going to have to face her soon.

“It’s Kayden,” he tells her and then it gets quiet.

“Oh…” She’s perplexed and I don’t blame her. “Can I… Can I

talk to him?”

“Hold on,” Luke says and then asks me, “You want to talk to

Callie?”

“I…” I never get to discover my answer, and it sucks because

I’m dying to know how I feel. My response would have revealed

the truth about my fear and how bad it’s going to be when she

gets here. But like always, my mother walks in just at the right

moment and steals everything away from me.

“We need to talk.” Her chin is tipped high like she’s better

than everyone in the building and she’s carrying around a duffel

bag on her shoulder. “Now.”

“I gotta go.” I hang up, knowing I’m being a pussy and

dodging my feelings. I unravel the cord from my hand and lean

back in my bed, putting my feet up on it. I’m wearing a pair of

plaid pajama bottoms and an old blue T-shirt that has holes in it.

I’ve worn the outfit five times since I’ve been here and it’s getting old.

She heaves the duffel bag onto the foot of the bed and then

positions her hands on her hips. “You need to work on getting

better and getting out of here. It’s making our family look bad.”

I carefully hunch forward, because moving too fast still hurts

my side. “And what do you suggest I do, mother, because the

doctors seem to think differently. They think I need to stay here

and heal.”

“I don’t give a shit what the doctors think.” She unzips the

bag with a tug. “What I care about is that you get dressed in some

normal clothes, get everyone thinking you feel better, and then

come home so we can start planning what we’re going to do if

Caleb Miller presses charges.”

“I could always plead mental insanity.” Sarcasm drips from

my voice. “Maybe they’d just keep me here instead of sending me

to jail.”

Her face flushes red and she shifts the handle of her purse

higher onto her shoulder. “You think this is funny? Maybe I should

have your father come down here and talk some sense into you.”

No matter how hard I try, I’m sent straight back to that place

where I’m lying on the floor bleeding to death and completely

ready to accept it. I rub my hand across my face and then say

through clenched teeth, “I’ll see what I can do.”

She smiles and it looks out of place, like she’s the evil villain

about to execute her evil plan. She kisses my cheek and I can smell

the wine on her breath. Then she moves back and rubs her thumb

across my cheek. “I got lipstick on you.” She pulls her hand away

and smiles again. “Let’s work on getting you out of here.” She pats

my leg and then walks out of the room, leaving the door open. I

hear her say something to one of the doctors and then a nurse

shuts the door.

I take a long-sleeve thermal shirt out of the bag, which is

filled with jeans, shirts, and socks, and slip it on over my head.

Then I reach for a pair of jeans, ready to put on my full costume

and go lie to the world, just like I’ve been doing my entire life.