by Anna B. Doe
And then she called out to me. “Hayden!”
My gut clenches at the desperation and fear so obvious in her voice. It wrecks me.
I remember Yasmin mentioning her nightmares, but this is the first time I’m witnessing them. I always thought they were about the accident, but there is apparently more to it than just that.
“Shhh…” I murmur, pressing my lips against her ear. “I’m here. It’s okay, you’re just dreaming.”
Her nails dig into the skin of my forearms making me wince, but I don’t lose my hold on her.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that. Laying down in the darkness of the night with Callie lost to her nightmares and me lost in her. But eventually, her body relaxes against mine, her fingers letting go of my skin.
“Hayden?” Her voice is low and husky, but I know she’s coming awake.
“I’m here,” I murmur, my finger still sliding through her silky hair. It smells like roses, long strands tickling my bare chest. I can feel her exhale slowly, and only then does she try to turn around. I don’t fight her, giving her just enough space to face me.
There is barely enough light peeking through the window to help me see the tension on her face. “Bad dream?” I ask, sliding my thumb over her lip.
Callie nods, the movement slow. “I’m sorry if I woke you. I’m sure you need to—”
I press my fingers against her lips firmly to shush her. “The only thing I need is you in my arms.”
And to show her I’m serious, I turn on my back, pulling her over my chest. She goes willingly, throwing one of her legs over mine and nuzzling her head in the crook of my neck, her arms tightening around my waist.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, kissing the top of her head.
I’ve never been a cuddly guy, but with Callie everything is different. She is different. She’s the one who makes me want the things I never wanted before. She always did, only then I never thought it would be possible for me to actually have them.
Callie’s quiet for a while, and I don’t push her, although I want to know what happened to cause her to call out to me. If and when she wants to talk about it I know she’ll come to me. I don’t want to be the one to bring back more painful memories, she has a lot of those all on her own.
“I-I…” Her trembling voice breaks. It pains me to see her struggle like that. I want to wrap her in my arms and tell her she doesn’t have to say anything and that everything will be alright, but there is this selfish part of me that wants to know everything there is to know about this girl I’m falling for. Because fuck it, I’m falling for her all over again and there is no stopping it. “I dream about them. Sometimes. About the accident.”
Fuck, I knew it.
“Callie.” My eyes close for a moment, but I keep moving my hand up and down her back in a soothing manner. “Baby, I’m so…”
She shakes her head. “It’s okay. It just happens sometimes. But if it bothers you, I can—”
“It doesn’t bother me.” I stop her before she can even think about finishing that sentence. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”
“You can’t take it away. Even if I wanted to forget, I can’t. That day, it repeats in my mind over and over again. I’m stuck in that car, reliving the worst minutes of my life.” Callie sucks at her lower lip, torturing tender flesh.
“When did it happen?”
“What?”
“The accident. When did it happen? You never told me.”
Maybe if we talk about it, it’ll help her move on. Maybe…
“Oh, that… it was just before the school wrapped up my sophomore year. I got my permit, so my parents let me drive back home from the nationals we were at when the other car crashed into us.”
Chills creep underneath my skin, making the hair on my arms stand, I’m not even sure why. But something about what she said has my mind spinning. Something I’m not sure how to pinpoint, but I know it’s there. What am I missing?
“So like April?” I ask, trying to figure out why my mind is working in overdrive, searching for… something.
“Early May. It was actually a few weeks after you moved away.”
A few weeks? But that’s when…
The realization hits me all at once. My whole body goes rigid as the memories of those weeks just after I moved to Grams’s house come rushing back to me.
Dad.
I don’t want to believe it. It would be too fucked up. And if Callie ever found out, she’d never forgive me. How could she?
It can’t be.
“Hayden?” Callie lifts her head, those violet eyes of hers looking at me with concern. “Are you okay?”
“Y-Yeah.” I breathe, forcing my muscles to relax. “I’m fine. Come on, you should try to sleep.”
I pull her to my chest, anything so she can’t see my face and ask again what’s wrong.
“I can’t fall asleep after the nightmare. Alone and… it’s just too much.”
“You’re not alone tonight. I have you,” I smooth my hand over her back. My touch reassuring, although I’m anything but. The fear of what might happen if this turns out to be true, haunting me for the rest of the night as I listen to Callie’s breathing even out as she drifts into a dreamless slumber. I, on the other hand, don’t even close my eyes.
Chapter Forty-Six
CALLIE
“How are you doing Callie?” Dr. Miller asks, a kind smile on her face. Was she born like that or do they teach that in shrink school? How to put the kindest, most plastic smile on your face.
Sometimes I wonder what I would have to say to ruffle her a bit. She’s all calm and collected. Composed to the point it’s irritating when your own life is a mess, but I instantly feel bad about it. This woman is trying to help me deal with my shit, and I want to unnerve her? What is wrong with me?
“Fine, I guess.” She nods but doesn’t say anything, instead she raises her brows, waiting. So I continue. “I had a nightmare again.”
Goosebumps rise on my skin, and they’re not the kind that makes me all warm and fuzzy. I haven’t had nightmares in a while and this new dream has rattled me more than I would care to admit to anyone, even Dr. Miller.
She knows the whole story. This might have only been our second session, but coming here was my choice so there was no point in stalling. Plus, there was something about her, no matter how irritating at times, that also put me at ease. So I told her everything that happened that led me here.
“About the accident?”
“Yes, no.” I tug at the tip of my braid, twisting it this way and that. Anything to distract me so I don’t have to face her. “It was the accident, but it was different.”
“Different how?”
I lift my gaze to find her patiently looking at me. “It wasn’t my parents in the car with me. It was Hayden.”
If I expected a reaction, I was sorely mistaken because I don’t get one. She hums softly, tapping with the pen against the notebook she sometimes jots notes in.
I frown, suddenly feeling irritated. “What does it mean?”
She ignores me, something I noticed already she likes to do a lot, and instead of answering my question she asks one of her own. “How are you and Hayden doing?”
“Good?” Where is she going with this?
More eyebrow raising. “Is that a question or an answer?”
“Both? I don’t know what you want me to say. Things have been good since we came back. Hayden is extremely busy with all the preparations for the game this weekend, but we spend most of the evenings together.”
“But?”
Taking a minute to mull over it, I finally say, “It feels surreal, you know? Being with him. Being happy. Like I’m just waiting for something to happen, for the other shoe to drop. It’s unsettling.”
“You still haven’t forgiven yourself.”
I look away, quiet. That’s as close to admitting it as I’ll get.
“Did you ever think about finding out abou
t the other driver?”
Anger shoots through me. I turn toward her. “What good would that be?”
“It might help give you closure. You need to forgive yourself to be able to fully move on. You’re not the one responsible for that accident, even the authorities said so. If you were, you’d have been sent to a trial and ultimately jail. And you weren’t.”
I shake my head, refusing her words, refusing absolution. “You know what happened in the car that day.”
“You can’t change that. Nothing you do will bring them back. You can’t have a do-over on that last night or change the fight you had with your parents. But you did make a difference when you saw Hayden. You apologized for your actions and he forgave you for what happened. Don’t you believe that your parents would be happy with that?”
“They really liked Hayden.” The memories of Hayden and me studying come rushing back. The easy way he interacted with both my parents. How much they loved him. “I have no idea how they did it, but they gave him the scholarship to come to Blairwood. We all knew that if he wanted to go to college he’d need all the financial help, and they did it.”
Her eyes soften. “Did you tell him that?”
“No.” My answer is instant. “And I don’t plan to. He doesn’t need to know. He wasn’t the only kid they helped. But he is the only one they picked. They found out what I did, set everything up even before facing me.” I wasn’t sure what that said about their opinion of me. Did they do it because they knew I was guilty? Or simply because they loved Hayden and felt bad for what had happened? I guess I’ll never know. “I actually already talked to my lawyers to set up a fund in both their names to sponsor more kids like Hayden.”
“I think they would like that.”
“Me too,” I whisper, sniffling softly.
Dr. Miller’s weathered hand covers mine. “You need to learn how to forgive yourself, Callie. I know it’s not an easy task, but you deserve it. You deserve to be free and happy, and the only way you’ll be able to do that is if you let go of the past. Trust me when I tell you, as parents the only thing we want is for our children to be happy. Your parents aren’t different. They might have been disappointed, angry even, but eventually they would have forgiven you. Now it’s time for you to forgive yourself.”
HAYDEN
“Yo, man.” Fingers snap right in front of my nose, bringing me to the present. “Are you even listening?”
No, I’m too busy trying to figure out if my father killed my girlfriend’s parents to care about anything else.
“Sorry,” I rub my face. “I’m all over the place. Where were we at?”
Nixon’s eyes narrow at me. “We can’t have you all over the place, Hades. The game against Eastwood is just a couple of days away. We need you with your head in the game. So what gives?”
I look around noticing that everybody in our small group is listening. Nixon, Emmett, Prescott, and I, along with a few more starters, decided to meet in Moore’s after practice for dinner and to discuss strategy, but I couldn’t for the life of me concentrate on anything except Callie and her admission.
From the way she always talked about it, I thought she was the one who crashed into something, a tree or a lamp or something, not that somebody crashed into her. And just around the same time my dad died. Also in a car crash.
It could be a coincidence, couldn’t it?
The bile that rises in my throat tells me all I need to know. Nothing has been a coincidence, why would this be any different.
I could probably google it and find out but…
“I need to go home for a bit.” I jump to my feet. There is one person who has all the answers, and I’m planning to get them firsthand.
“What? Now?”
“Man, is everything okay?”
I look at my friends’ worried faces.
“Is something wrong with your grandmother?” Nixon asks, now also worried. He met my grandmother once, but I could see he liked her a lot. They both have the same sense of humor.
“No, she’s fine, I just need to talk to her about something.”
He gives me a skeptical look but ends up shrugging. “Whatever will get your head back in the game.”
“Right,” I nod and grab my phone and keys from the table. “I’ll see you guys later.”
They grunt their goodbyes, and in less than a minute I’m outside, phone in my hand.
Me: I won’t be home tonight. Have to visit Grams.
Callie answers almost immediately.
Callie: Is everything okay?
Me: Yes, I just need to see her.
Callie: Oh, okay. Say hi to her from me.
Me: Will do. TTYL. <3
It takes me a little over thirty minutes until I pull in the driveway of the house that’s been my home for the last few years. And if I’m being honest, this is the only home I’ve ever felt like I belong.
I’ve pushed the car as much as I could without getting myself into trouble, slowing down in all the places I knew cops are known to be hiding. The last thing I needed was to get pulled over. Between Coach and my teammates, I wasn’t sure who’d have wanted to kill me first if I landed my ass in jail.
Killing the engine, I run my fingers through my hair. The lights are still on downstairs so she has to be awake.
Am I really doing this? But what other choice do I have?
Before I can change my mind, I get out of the car just when the front door opens and Grams’s pink head pops out. A frown on her face falls down when she realizes that it’s me.
“Hayden?” She looks at the car, probably trying to figure out if Zane’s with me or not, before her eyes return to me. “Is everything okay?”
“We have to talk.”
I’m not sure if it’s my tone or expression on my face, but whatever it is, she nods. “Let’s go inside.”
Without waiting for an answer, she turns and goes inside.
“What is this all about?” Grams asks as soon as we’re in the living room. She sits down in a ratted, old armchair. The same one that’s been here forever, but she refuses to throw it away because it’s her favorite.
“You said his death was an accident,” I say, going straight to the point. There is no sense in walking around it. I’m here to get answers and I’m not leaving without them.
“What?” she looks confused, like she really doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
“Dad.” It pains me even to say his name. “You said his death was an accident. A car accident,” I say slowly, making sure to enunciate every word carefully. All day I’ve been trying to remember the exact words she told me that day the cops showed on our doorsteps. Words I didn’t want to listen to, didn’t care to know. “You said that he drank too much, and died in a car accident. Crashed into a tree.”
She tries to hide it, but I can see her flinch. “Because he did.”
“But did he crash into somebody else first?” The silence that fills the room is almost deafening, the only thing interrupting it is my ragged breathing. Her face softens, eyes turning misty. My heart squeezes painfully, hating the fact that I’m hurting the person I love most in the world, but right now I don’t have that luxury. I have to know what happened. I have to know the truth. How can I look at Callie otherwise? “Did. He. Crash. Into. Somebody?” I punctuate every single word. My whole body is shaking with barely suppressed rage.
On the best of days, I didn’t want to have anything to do with my father, so once he sent me away, I was just glad not to be around him, I cut every connection I had to him. I didn’t talk to him. Didn’t answer his calls or text. Didn’t want to hear about him. Nothing. And then, a short while later, he was gone and I didn’t have to.
Her trembling hand reaches for me. “I wanted to tell you, but you were already hurting so much.”
I pull my hand out of her reach. “Who was it?”
“Hayden…”
“Who was it?” I repeat, this time louder.
She shakes her head, a s
trand of silver hair falling from behind her ear. “A family. Parents died, but the girl… she survived.”
“What’s their name?” I insist although I know. Fuck, of course I know.
Deep down I’ve known for a while.
Since Callie told me about the accident something’s been nagging at me from the back of my mind. I didn’t know what. I couldn’t pinpoint it. Couldn’t name it. But there was something, and after what she told me yesterday...
“S—” She inhales sharply. “Stewart. It was Stewart.”
My world, everything that I’ve known, shatters around me.
“Godammit!” Angrily, I run my fingers over my face and through my hair, pulling short strands in frustration. “Fuck! Just… fuck!”
I turn around, the need to punch something, anything, so strong, but I hold it in. I can’t risk messing up my hand right now, so instead, I clench my fingers so hard I’m surprised they don’t snap.
“I’m so sorry, Hayden. You didn’t want to know and I figured it’s for the best. You didn’t need more of your father’s sins to rub on you.”
I shake my head, unwilling to listen to her explanations. “It’s not that simple.”
All this time, Callie has been carrying that guilt, when it was my father who caused it. My father who robbed her of her life, her family, her future.
“It’s not your fault. He was the one driving. He was…”
“The girl is Callie, Grams,” I yell at her. Her eyes go wide, her frail complexion turning ghost white. “My Callie.”
She won’t be mine after she finds out.
How the fuck am I going to tell her? I can’t keep it a secret, it would kill me. But telling her the truth would kill us.
Knowing what he, my father, did… she would never forgive me. Not that I can really blame her. I hated her, condemned her, for all she’s done, but this…
“She doesn’t know?” Her voice trembles as she asks. “I wondered why they never pressed charges, but I never thought…”
I shake my head. “No, Callie didn’t want the details after she found out she’s the only one who survived the crash. Instead, she internalized it all, blaming herself because she was the one driving that day.”