Catching Callie_A NEW ADULT & COLLEGE SUMMER SPORTS ROMANCE

by Claire Woods

  “Callie!” He shouts, but my mother’s soft voice follows, muffled by the breeze. She must have told him to give me space.

  My legs keep running past the burning stitches in each side of my abdomen. My lungs burn, too. But I keep going chased by things I can’t outrun.

  Finally, I collapse down on the sand where it clings to my sweaty skin. I’m not sure how long, I stare at the waves trying to read the future.

  “Hey.”

  Ignoring him, my eyes never waver from the ocean.

  “Callie?”

  “Go away.”

  He ignores me, sitting down in the sand.

  “What’s wrong?”

  My chin quivers. I break like the surf I’m staring so hard at. “My mom’s dying. She came home to die, and I have to watch it happen.”

  “At least you get to say goodbye. Sometimes you don’t get a chance.”

  Through helpless sobs and streaky tears, I stare at him. “Like you never said goodbye to me? How could you? I-I thought the summer we spent meant something to you… then you just up and left after everything we shared? It took me years to get over you!”

  “I-I know. It took me years to get over you, too.”

  “Really? I find that hard to believe, especially when I saw your face all over Instagram and Social pages.”

  “You should know now, more than anyone what that’s like. What they print and what the truth is don’t always match up.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. But what how you left me—was really shitty, Elliott.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks, but it’s years too late and I don’t need to hear those words from you anymore.”

  “Well, I still mean them.”

  Standing up, I’m blinded by flashes. “Get out of here!” Elliott roars, standing in front of me.

  Sand and mascara fill my eyes, I swipe both away trying to see. Through all the faces, shouts, and flashing cameras; a pair of eyes stand out from the rest. There’s something about her that’s dark—evil as she smiles smugly at the camera’s capturing the utter destruction on my face.

  A shudder runs through me, but I can’t break her stare. She mouths, “Game over.” Her perfectly bowed slick lips smiling.

  My gasping sob seems to enrage Elliott even more. He charges, grabbing cameras smashing them together, throwing some behind us in the water. He’s wrestled to the ground but fights his way up throwing punches left and right.

  Sirens wail in the distance coming closer. Looking around, I realize I ran straight into a summer cookout at the wealthier section of the beach where Elliott’s family usually stays. I don’t see them, but plenty of people my age.

  Officers pant as they race down the beach trying to break up the ensuing fight.

  “Cuff him! He destroyed my property!”

  “The hell I did. You’re on a private beach!” Elliott roars the veins in his neck popping.

  “Callie?”

  “Hey, Vin. He’s with me.” I point to Elliott.

  The photographers are pissed as Elliott is freed and they are forced to leave. But I’m sure enough of them got pictures of me.

  “Come on. I’ll walk you back.”

  He’s breathing hard, still pumped full of adrenalin as he walks beside me. “Thank you.”

  He shrugs. “I’m sorry. They came out of nowhere.”

  “I ruined your party.” My eyes flit to the overturned kegs and tables. Food is scattered in the sand.

  “Eh, I’ll have more.”

  He picks up a shell; it’s perfectly white with no chips. “For good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  I take it, accepting it for the peace offering it is.

  “I can make it from here.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” He tries to hug me, but I shrink bag. His hands fall to his sides.

  “Right. Take care, Callie.”

  Giving him a sad smile, I turn away, knowing he watches me walk all the way down the beach until I reach home.

  The house is just as dark and silent as it’s been for weeks.

  “Hello?”

  “Gabe took them out for ice cream.”

  He’s sitting in the shadows in the same place I saw him last.

  “Are you drunk?”

  “No, but I wish I was, Callie girl.”

  “Ah, Dad. I-I just can’t believe this.”

  “Neither can I. But it’s what she wants.”

  “What about what we want?”

  He shrugs.

  “I’m going inside.”

  Plodding up the stairs to my room, I strip then get into the shower. I’m able to rinse all the grit, tears and sand off my skin, but I don’t feel much better.

  I can’t eat.

  I can’t sleep.

  I’m stuck—in limbo, with nothing to do but wait. The melancholy that takes over my heart wins. When Gabe calls, I hit ignore. When my cells pings with dozens of texts—they go unanswered. My body and mind are both full of dread. I’m tired of the press—of being chased. Tired of being strong all the time—shouldering so many burdens. When sleep finally takes me away from it all, my mind is full of memories of my mother teaching me how to ride the waves.

  Gabe

  I FEEL SICK.

  Staring back at me is my girl’s beautifully haunted face. It’s destroyed. Her soul’s cut-up for the world to see. And they are.

  The photographer captured the essence of the moment so well I’m sure he’ll win an award.

  But what’s fucking me up more than that is him.

  He’s the one there—kicking the shit out of them—doing what should’ve been my job.

  Someone at that pricks party recognized Callie and tipped the paps off. I want to rip his head off—tear him a new one while I’m at it just because he had what’s now mine.

  I don’t even want him breathing on the same planet as her.

  “FUCK!”

  Her phone goes straight to voicemail. I wanted to stay last night, but she wouldn’t let me.

  I kissed the top of her head telling her I’d be back this morning but she never once mentioned that any of what I’m looking at even happened.

  The only reason Elliott isn’t in the slammer is because of Steve—I’m sure of it.

  I text him, and he texts back, confirming my suspicions. Elliott trashed thousands of dollars’ worth of cameras and equipment and would have faced assault and battery charges for breaking a few noses. But when Steve found out he was defending Callie, he made sure the charges went the other way—sticking the paps with trespassing and parking illegally.

  But the real thorn in my side are the headlines.

  “Gabe Parker’s new love falls back in the arms of her old flame.”

  “Has the Player been Played? Gabe Parker’s girlfriend caught canoodling with her ex.”

  The sky is gray filling with storm clouds, fitting my mood. My cell rings on the counter, but it’s not her.

  “Coach?”

  “Parker. I was calling just to make sure you’re not trashing Gran’s house or doing something stupid to jeopardize the team. I just got official word—you’re cleared. The University and the NCAA has nothing. Not one shred of evidence that you ever cheated in class or on the field. Congrats, son. Your banishment is lifted. I expect you back in two weeks for pre-season.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Well fuck, Parker. Can you sound any happier about it? I busted my ass all summer for you son, making sure this shit didn’t cling to you.”

  “I—I appreciate that. I do. It’s just shit’s hitting the fan here. My girl—her mom’s dying. The press is crawling over the sand like fleas—I need more time. Here with her.”

  “I thought you got it. I thought you understood? If you want to play at the next level—you need to keep your head clear. No drama, no women, no bullshit juvenile heartache screwing up your career.”

  “She’s important to me.”

  “More important than footbal
l?”

  “Maybe.”

  “I expect you back in my field house by three p.m. on August 8th. If your ass isn’t sitting in my locker room getting padded up—consider yourself cut. You can kiss your scholarship and any chance of going pro, goodbye. Choose wisely.”

  I set my phone down, needing to think.

  I love her.

  There’s no doubt I do. But should I sacrifice years of everything I’ve done to achieve my dream? Is it even wise to give it all up for love?

  We need more time together. She’ll be with me at main campus in the fall. But how can I leave her here—all alone with a terminally ill mother, a broken-hearted brother and a father so caught in his own despair he can’t move off his chair?

  I can’t.

  But I didn’t fight so hard, for so long to go out like this either. Picking up my phone, I scroll finding Steve’s number.

  “Yo! What’s up, Parker?”

  “I need a favor. A big one.”

  “Shit. Does it involve the SWAT van again?”

  “No. I wish. Listen—I need you to kidnap someone for me.”

  “No. Uh-uh. I’m not getting involved in your love affair with my niece.”

  “Not Callie. I need some time with her mother, Gayle.”

  “Christ, Parker. Seriously?”

  “Just do it. Callie can’t know. No one can—that we’re meeting. Just set it up. I’ll get you season tickets, behind the bench.”

  “Shit. Fuck me… alright, I’ll do it. I’ll need some time—for logistics.”

  “Figure it out. I need to be back on campus in two weeks.”

  “Fuck. Fine, I’ll text you.”

  Grabbing my keys, my thoughts racing, I drive down to the marina.

  “Gabe?”

  My long legs jog down to the dock where Wes is pumping diesel into a small fishing boat.

  “I need a favor. Maybe a few.”

  “Parker?”

  Turning, my eyes meet Eric’s, Callie’s father. “You finally moved.”

  “I couldn’t just sit, watching the light die in her eyes.”

  “She’s that bad?” Wes asks.

  “I’m not talking about Gayle.”

  “Callie?”

  “The cancer might be taking my wife’s body, but it’s also killing my little girl’s soul.”

  “You have any boats unrented? Ones we could sleep on for a few days?

  “Sure, but do you have a license?”

  “No. Callie does, right?”

  Without missing a beat Wes drops the fuel hose, motioning me to follow. “This is her favorite. It’s forty feet of pure fiberglass and teak wood. Sails like a dream, too.”

  “What’s her name?” I whistle taking in the sleek sailboat that hasn’t been here all summer.

  “Saving Grace. The couple who rented it sailed up the coast of New England for two months. They just got back yesterday.”

  “You can’t go out today. There’s twenty to thirty-foot swells being reported.”

  “No. Not today. I was thinking more like tomorrow?”

  “Fuck.” Her father whispers under his breath.

  “Look, Eric. I know why you hate me. I get it. Wherever I go, camera’s follow. I can’t promise that it will even change now that I’ve officially been cleared to play. My dream’s always been to go pro. I’m not going to stop until I catch the winning pass in a Super Bowl. But I love your daughter, more than my next breath. All I’m asking is for some time with her. Away from everything—while we still can.”

  “Fine. But you’ll need to be the one to convince her to go. She won’t leave her mother’s side.”

  “I know. But I’m praying to God she won’t leave mine either.”

  Patting Wes on the back, I give Eric a curt nod and jog back up to my car. I have a lot of preparation to do, to get this right. I just hope she comes.

  Callie

  I DIDN’T SLEEP THROUGH THE NIGHT. I kept thinking it’s not real. My beautiful, once vivacious mother can’t be dying in her forties.

  But she is.

  And there’s nothing I can do about it.

  The home phone rings and I answer it before it wakes Charlie.

  “Hello?”

  “Callie? It’s Dr. Klein—your mother’s oncologist from UVA…”

  “Yes. I know who you are.”

  “Your mother…she left quite unexpectedly… against my wishes. I have her latest scan results… may I speak with her?”

  “Sure—hold on.”

  “Mom?” Tapping lightly on her door, I peek in. But the bed’s empty. Through the window, I see her slowly walking on the beach.

  Racing down the stairs, I jog barefoot across the sand to give her the phone.

  “It’s Dr. Klein.”

  “No.” She shakes her head.

  “Mom?” I hold it out, determined she takes it.

  She shakes her head, turning back down the beach.

  “She won’t speak to you. Can you give me the results?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t. It’s against HIPPA guidelines.”

  “Can you speak to my dad?”

  “Yes. He’s on the list of people she cleared to talk about her health record.”

  “Okay. Can I have your office number?”

  “How about I give you my cell, instead?”

  Jotting it down on a piece of paper I found in the kitchen, I tuck it into the back pocket of my jean shorts.

  ***

  He’s jogging towards me, but there’s no light in my heart today. It’s gone black. Sitting on the sea wall, with my legs dangling, I wait.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  “Why haven’t you answered my calls?”

  “I’m sorry. I—it’s just been a lot.”

  “I know.”

  “Come with me?” He holds out a hand.

  “Where?”

  “Away… just for a few nights.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. I need you, too. Besides, I’ve already cleared it with Eric.”

  “Eric?”

  “Yah. Your dad and I are like this…” He takes his hands pressing them together.

  “Yeah, right.” But he does get me to smile.

  He leads me into my own house, upstairs to my room, packing my bags like he did only a little over a month ago? It seems like I’ve known him forever.

  “Where are you taking me this time?”

  “Actually, it’s where you are taking me. Out to sea, on Saving Grace.”

  “What? She’s back?”

  “She is and all ready for us to go.” He slaps me on the ass, playfully.

  “Oh, but according to the press—we’re over. Didn’t you hear I dumped you for my ex?”

  “Never.” He drops my bag hauling me close for a kiss. “We’ll never be over.”

  But the pit in my gut tells me nothing lasts forever. I know that more than anyone.

  “Cawwwlie?”

  “Hey, Charlie, what’s up?”

  “You promised to take me boogie boarding.”

  “I know, bud. But there was a storm offshore yesterday that caused a riptide.”

  “But we can still make sand castles, right?”

  “Sure. How about it, Gabe? Are you up for it? We can sail off later tonight.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Jumping off the wall, I gather Charlie up in a big hug. “I love you, buddy. You’re my number one man.”

  “Hey!” Gabe laughs hugging me from behind.

  “Sorry. You’re number two.”

  “I guess, I can live with that.” He replies, hugging me from behind.

  “Can you pack up some snacks?”

  “Sure.”

  While Gabe gathers the snacks, I pack up our beach gear then write a quick note leaving it on the counter that we’ll be down the beach. During low-tide a small tidal pool forms that’s full of shells, crabs, and critters. Charlie loves catching and releasing them when the tide rolls
back in.

  “Ready to go?”

  Two heads nod. “Okay, let’s do this!” I smile for Charlie’s sake, but I’m struggling hard, pretending to be fine.

  It’s still only mid-morning, but the beach is starting to fill. We trudged a half mile down to the tidal pools and set up.

  Gabe has a fisherman’s hat and Ray Ban’s on. But there’s no disguising his huge physique as he takes his shirt off and sits in the sand next to me.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  My throat closes. “No. Not here. Not yet.”

  “I understand. You know I’m here for you, right?”

  I nod as he covers my hands with his.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

  “Me, too.”

  He sighs, kissing the top of my head, “Come on. Let’s make Charlie the best sand castle this beach has ever seen.”

  The clouds break, letting the late July sun shine down hot on our backs. We take a break, sit under the umbrella, sharing snacks. The warm sun makes me sleepy, and I doze off as Gabe and Charlie chase crabs.

  ***

  Shouts jolt me awake. Confused, I sit up finding myself at the edge of a crowd. Annoyed, I stand, bolt forward and push my way through. A few try to elbow me aside until I’m recognized. I’m angry that another peaceful day has been ruined. I just want to grab Charlie and go. But when I finally break through the mob of photographers and reporters—it’s just Gabe trying to shield my mother from the fray.

  “Where’s Charlie?”

  Their eyes frantically search. “He was just here… “

  “Charlie!” I turn screaming. “CHARLIE!”

  Gabe raises his hand above his eyes, scanning the beach in all directions!

  My mother frantically looks in all directions, unsure which way to go.

  “We need to split up. I’ll search the water,” I swallow hard. “Gabe you head towards home…”

  “I’ll alert the lifeguards,” my mother cries in anguish trying to run in her weakened state. Gabe takes off—he’s there in two minutes shouting frantically. Mom falls in the sand under the weight of anguish. In seconds she’s surrounded by flashing cameras.

  While our hearts are in our throats—they don’t help. All they do is click and click, documenting the panic; the fear. My anger boils over.