The Resolution of Callie & Kayden

by Jessica Sorensen

  ‘Don’t answer me right now.’ She slowly lowers her hand from my lips. ‘Just think about it. Talk to your therapist and figure out if you really want to do it or not,’ she says with a shrug. ‘I was just letting you know that I want to.’

  I nod, letting out a breath trapped inside my chest. ‘Okay, I’ll think about it.’

  Her lips curve into a smile then she stands on her tiptoes to place a kiss on my mouth. Her taste drowns me, and for the slightest, liberating moment, I forget about everything. The kiss is too quick, though, and when she starts to pull away, I cup the back of her neck and pull her right back to me, refusing to let her go, wanting to feel the calmness inside me just a little bit longer.

  She doesn’t protest as I slide my tongue deep inside her mouth, exploring every inch of it as I grasp onto her hips, gripping her sides. She clutches onto me tightly too, our bodies aligning as snow falls around us, soaks through our clothes to our skin while soft music continues to play in the background.

  It’s one of those easy moments with her that I look forward to and I wish I could stay in forever. But for some reason I have a feeling the snow is going to stop falling and life will move on.

  Moving forward.

  To a future.

  I just wish I knew what the hell I was supposed to do.

  Chapter 3

  #117 Don’t Let the Cursor Torture You.

  Callie

  It’s getting close to Halloween and I want to dress up for it. I haven’t actually dressed up since I was eleven, the last time I felt like a child. I know I’m not a child now, but having my childhood stolen so early from me, I want to have some fun. And Seth wants me to go to a Halloween concert thingy with Greyson, him, Luke, and Violet. A couple’s Halloween/dance/costume concert. I agree, but tell him I’ll have to talk to Kayden, unsure if it’s his kind of thing.

  I like the idea too much probably and shouldn’t get my hopes up until I know for sure if he’ll go, but I never got to do the whole prom thing, never got to wear something that made me look pretty, didn’t really believe I was pretty, nor did I want to be at the time or want to draw that kind of attention. I never got to dance with a guy who I loved and who looked at me like I was the most beautiful thing in the world. And I want it for just one night.

  Seth coaxes me into going shopping for a costume before I get the chance to ask Kayden, but I don’t mind. In fact, I’m having fun looking for something to wear. Although, Seth seems to think he needs to put in his two cents, and let’s just say that his costume ideas are … well, a little bit too daring and bold for my taste.

  ‘Yeah, I’m not sure Kayden would go for the whole Peter Pan/Tinkerbell thing,’ I tell Seth when he holds up a costume that includes green tights and curly toed shoes.

  He gives me an innocent smile, shoving the costume at me. ‘Why ever not?’

  I roll my eyes as I continue to search the rack in front of me. ‘Um, because it includes tights. That’s why.’ I move hangers to the side as I look through the choices. ‘Besides, I don’t want to be Tinkerbell.’

  Seth frowns disappointedly. ‘Yeah, but Kayden wears those super tight pants when he’s playing football, which is pretty much the same as tights.’

  I laugh as I sift through the very slutty looking options of costumes, something I’m not ready for, nor do I ever think I’ll be ready for. Again, I just don’t think it’s in my personality. ‘Yeah, and I’ve caught you checking him out before in those super tights pants, buddy. You are so not as discreet as you think.’

  ‘Who says I was trying to be discreet?’ he says, putting his hand on his hip. ‘I was just admiring the view. And don’t pretend like you don’t do it, too – admire a nice ass when you see one.’

  My cheeks warm and he laughs at me, amused by my embarrassment. Still chuckling, he wanders around the racks filling the small store, searching for a costume. The selection is pretty picked over and there are a lot of people here skimming through the already-limited supply. There’s some Halloween-type music playing through the speakers to add to the scary decorations of bats, witches, and ghosts.

  ‘So have you decided on one yet?’ Seth asks, backing away from the rack and rubbing his stomach. ‘Because I’m getting super hungry.’

  I shake my head as I pull a face at a thin piece of leather that’s supposed to be some sort of dress, yet looks more like a really short shirt. ‘The problem is I don’t want to be something scary or slutty and that’s all they really have here.’

  He glances over at the wall of masks then the rack I was just looking through. ‘That sort of eliminates a lot of options, if not all of them.’

  ‘I know,’ I sigh, glancing around the store. ‘I just want to be something pretty. Something that’s not slutty, but is sort of sexy in a way where I don’t have to show a lot of skin, if that makes any sense. Something that will … dazzle Kayden.’ I grin at my word usage because dazzle is one of Seth’s favorite words.

  He bobs his head up and down to the music as he looks around the store contemplatively. ‘That actually makes perfect sense for you.’ He takes my hand. ‘Come with me, beautiful; I think I have an idea for the perfect thing for you. One that will make you’ – he grins at me – ‘dazzle the whole entire world.’

  I smile as I follow him out of the store, hoping that today’s efforts will be worth it, that maybe somehow I can make the night magical, or at least get Kayden to smile. That alone would make all efforts worth it.

  Later that day, I return to my dorm room with a bag that’s holding what I think will be the perfect costume. I know I’m being silly, that I’m almost twenty and should not be getting excited over a silly party, but I am.

  Last Halloween, Kayden and I weren’t technically boyfriend and girlfriend. Yeah, we were hanging out, but that was about it. And about a month later, around Thanksgiving, everything fell apart when Kayden beat up Caleb for what he did to me and then his father beat up him and stabbed him for getting in trouble with the police over it. It was a terrible, horrible time. I know Kayden still thinks about it a lot, even though he doesn’t talk to me about it too much. So I want the end of this year and future ones to be fun. Plain and simple fun.

  After I put my bags away, I turn on my iPod, hitting random before popping my headphones on. ‘Winter Song’ by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson clicks on, totally fitting for the storm outside. Then I get my laptop from the nightstand and plop down onto the bed.

  I do a little writing for my internship, but after getting bored with it I change documents and work on one of my Advance Fiction projects for my end of the year portfolio. The theme is fiction, but Professor Gladsyman pressed that we should write about something that feels real, something that’s resting on the line between fiction and nonfiction.

  Sometimes, I feel …

  Yeah, that’s all I have so far. It’s not like I’m having writer’s block. Okay, well maybe I do, but it’s not only that. Writing the vague truth, that’s the hard part. But I’m not even supposed to be writing the truth, am I? Honestly, I’m kind of confused which route I’m supposed to go, especially since the professor kept making air quotes whenever he said fiction. I swear he wanted us to read his mind or something to figure out what he wanted.

  Sighing, I delete my whole three words and then take up the hobby of staring at the blank, white screen and that damn blinking cursor, the one that I swear is whispering, you better find an idea, over and over again, not to encourage me – to torture me. Every time I try to get it to stop, the voice only grows louder and I swear to God I’m going crazy – writer crazy.

  After a while, I get up and get a snack from my dresser drawer then I take out my dress – aka my costume – and admire it again, totally procrastinating.

  When I’d tried the dress on in the store, I’d felt like a gothic princess. Yeah, it was of a cliché thought – well, minus the gothic part – but I welcomed it, remembering how I used to dream of being a princess and going to prom before it got squashed. A
fter I was raped, I shut down completely, living only within myself. I chopped off my hair and only spoke to my journal for the most part, everything I was feeling pouring out through that pen. That’s what I did until I left for college, which means I convinced myself all that high school stuff was silly when really I wanted to go. Never happened.

  ‘It could be like prom for you,’ Seth had said when he was trying to convince me that this was indeed what I needed to wear. ‘And you could be like Cinderella and lose your glass slipper so Kayden has to find you and give it back.’

  I’d been holding the dress up to myself and gazing at my reflection in the store’s mirror. ‘Seth, this is just a party. And this is definitely not a dress Cinderella would wear.’

  ‘Then be Callierella,’ he said with a wink. ‘Or Calliepunzel and you can lock yourself in your bedroom until Kayden begs for you to let him in.’

  I had snorted a laugh. ‘Are you drunk? I mean, I know you had a margarita at lunch, but it usually takes a lot more for you to get tipsy.’

  ‘I’m not drunk,’ he said, snatching the dress from my hand. ‘I’m just trying to give you the fairytale you deserve.’

  ‘Life isn’t a fairytale,’ I replied. But in the end, I bought the dress, kind of wishing it was.

  If life were a fairytale, I think to myself as I hang the dress up in the closet, it would be dark and twisted a lot. Then again, some of those fairytales do have a dark side, an evil villain, a wicked dilemma to get over like a curse. But I would never want to be a princess, at least the kind that waits around for a prince to save them.

  I’d want to save myself. And maybe the prince as well. Maybe we could save each other together.

  An idea sparkles inside my mind and I let out an excited clap and cheer. ‘Holy crap, I’ve got it!’

  Right then, Harper enters the room with a bag slung over her shoulder. She gives me this weird look as she sets her things down on the dresser and her bag on the bed. You okay? she mouths because I have my headphones in.

  I nod eagerly as I skip back to my bed. ‘Yeah, just got a really cool idea.’ Then I turn to the computer and place my fingers on the keyboard, listening to the voice inside my head that doesn’t belong to a cursor, but a character, as I type the first three words.

  The Truthful Fairytale.

  Chapter 4

  #101 Don’t Let Your Family Get to You.

  Kayden

  Working at the gym isn’t what I want to do for the rest of my life, but it gives me a cash flow. It’s loud and always has this weird smell I never notice when I’m working out but can barely breathe through when I’m working. It usually takes me at least an hour before my nostrils get used to it. Today, though, it’s giving me a headache, or maybe that’s just because I didn’t sleep very well last night. I want to lie down on the floor and go to sleep, but instead I have to stand at the front counter for four hours straight and talk to people when they need help.

  My phone’s been buzzing in my pocket all day, but I can’t answer it until my break. I think it might be Callie, and it’s driving me insane because I want to talk to her, yet I don’t. After our conversation the other day about moving in, I’ve been worried about what she’ll say, afraid she’s going to ask me what my decision is and I’m going to have to tell her I have no clue. My only hope left is to maybe sort out my jumbled thoughts at my therapy appointment tomorrow.

  Finally, at a little after two o’clock, I get my break. After putting on my jacket, I step out the back door and into the cold. The sky is grey and the snow is refusing to stop or melt, piling up on the roads. I wonder just how intense the winter’s going to be. Usually it doesn’t even start snowing until November, but it’s the end of October and there’s already a shitload.

  My phone vibrates again and I cut across the icy parking lot toward my car as I rummage around in my pocket for it. I’m getting ready to dial Callie’s number when I see the screen and realize all the missed calls aren’t from her but from my older brother Dylan.

  ‘That’s fucking weird,’ I mutter, retrieving the keys from my pocket as I reach my car. Dylan and I talk about once a week, but usually if I miss his call, he doesn’t call back until a few days later. Today, however, he’s tried to call over eight times and sent one text.

  Dylan: Call me ASAP.

  I dial his number as I hop into my car and turn the engine on, cranking up the heater with the phone pressed to my ear.

  ‘Hey,’ he answers with an edge to his voice. ‘I was actually going to try to call you again.’

  ‘Yeah, I was at work,’ I reply, staring out the window. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Nothing … well, everything.’ He hesitates then sighs. ‘It’s about Tyler.’

  My heart rate quickens at the mention of my other brother’s name. ‘What happened to him?’

  Dylan sighs again and it’s more weighted this time. ‘I got a call from him a few days ago, and he said he needed help, that he’s been living on the streets. I could tell he was ripped out of his mind – could barely understand half the words he said.’

  ‘Living on the streets where exactly?’

  ‘I’m not sure yet. Haven’t gotten that far with him.’ Dylan sighs for the third time and I know it’s bad. Whatever’s going on, it’s really, really bad. ‘He was actually headed up to Virginia when he called me. I guess he found out where I lived and started hitchhiking to my place. He was strung out and we’re trying to help him detox right now, but I’m not sure how well it’s going to work.’

  ‘Where was he hitchhiking from?’ I dare ask, wondering if it’s from wherever my parents are. And what if it is? What does that mean? That they’ll be entering Dylan’s life again, too? Will he let them?

  A thousand questions race through my mind as Dylan answers, ‘I have no idea. Somewhere down south, I think, but he acts like he can’t remember.’

  I grip onto the steering wheel, attempting to control the frustration stirring inside me, but I’ve never been great at controlling my emotions and I start to sweat from the anxiousness I’m feeling. ‘Or maybe he does, but he’s not saying because Mom and Dad told him not to.’

  ‘Yeah, I kind of wondered the same thing. Been wondering it for the few months after you got ahold of me and told me what’d been going on, but then again, Tyler is, well, Tyler. And he might just have been living on the streets so fucking high he really can’t remember where he was.’

  ‘Yeah, I guess so.’ Dylan’s right. Tyler could easily have just wandered in from off the streets, but part of me wants it to be the other way around, wants him to know where they are. I don’t know why, though. It’s not like I want them back in my life. I don’t even want to see them again unless it’s seeing my dad behind bars. Just like his father – my grandfather – is now.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking, Kayden,’ Dylan says interrupting my thoughts. ‘And you need to stop thinking about that. You need to try to let it go. Don’t worry about Mom and Dad anymore.’

  ‘I’m not worrying about them,’ I lie and well, too. I’ve always been good at lying, which isn’t a good thing, but it’s something I had to learn how to do at an early age when people would ask about my bruises and broken bones.

  ‘Well, I didn’t really mean worry. More like, letting them get to you.’

  ‘I’m fine. Really,’ I lie again. I don’t feel fine. I feel angry. All the time.

  ‘Are you still seeing your therapist?’ he asks cautiously.

  ‘Yeah.’ I turn down the heater. ‘Once a week, every week.’

  ‘Good. I think it’s good for you. I still see mine sometimes when things get bad, like the other day when I had to pick Tyler up.’ When I don’t say anything, not sure what to say, he changes the subject. ‘But anyway, I just wanted to call and let you know what’s up. We might check Tyler into a rehab if we can get him to commit, so he might be around for Thanksgiving when you come out.’

  I frown. ‘Thanksgiving?’

  ‘Yeah, you’re coming up,
right?’ he asks. ‘I mean, I thought that’s what you said.’

  What I said was I’d think about it, but I still mutter, ‘Yeah, I guess.’

  My lungs begin to constrict as I think about last Thanksgiving and what happened. It’d started out okay, getting to spend time with Callie, and then we’d had sex for the first time. But things got ugly from then on, a beautiful moment tainted by reality.

  ‘Look, I got to go. My break’s over,’ I lie to Dylan for the third time during this conversation. ‘But let me know what happens with Tyler.’

  ‘I will.’ He hesitates as I turn off the engine and get out of the car. ‘And Kayden, just so you know, he’s been asking about you – what you’re doing, if you’re okay. He keeps saying he wants to talk to you, but I’m not going to let him until he sobers, just to make sure he doesn’t say … well, anything that isn’t meant to be said.’ I think he might be trying to protect me, but I’m not sure since no one has ever really done that for me before, at least no one in my family. ‘And you only have to talk to him if you want to.’

  I’m unsure how to respond. Dylan and I have been getting along okay, but right now he’s showing a lot of emotion directed toward me. It’s strange and unfamiliar, especially since I spent a lot of time thinking that he hated me when I was a kid, after he took off when he was eighteen and left me with our dad and mom, never so much as even calling to say where he was living. It’s something we haven’t really talked about too much either, although my therapist thinks it might be healthy for us to do so. However, I don’t want to go down that road yet – open up those old scars that are still trying to heal.

  ‘Okay … thanks for letting me know,’ I say awkwardly as I lock the car door then shut it because it’s too old school for a key fob.

  ‘Yeah, no problem,’ he replies, sounding uncomfortable himself. I hear someone say something in the background and he quickly says, ‘Oh, and Liz wants to know if you’re bringing anyone here for Thanksgiving with you.’