by Anna B. Doe
Hayden’s gaze pulls me in so deep I almost miss Nixon’s words.
“I’ll tell you exactly as it is, because that’s my best friend we’re talking about, don’t you get it? He is in love with you, Callie and you’re going to condemn him for something his father has done?”
“You wouldn’t understand it.”
“Oh, I understand it quite enough. But if you do that, you’re exactly the person Hayden thought you were all those years before.”
If he wanted to hurt me, he chose the perfect words. The ones that cut the deepest and play on my biggest fear—returning to the person I was before.
Standing abruptly, my vision clouded with new tears, I grab my things and dash toward the door.
I can hear somebody calling after me, but I don’t turn around to see who it is, I just keep on running. But there is no running away from the condemning voice that’s going on and on in my mind.
You’re exactly the person Hayden thought you were all those years before…
Maybe they’re right, all of them. Maybe I was only fooling myself that I’ve changed.
“All that face your past and you’ll be set free is a load of crap!” I say to doctor Miller as soon as I enter her office.
Completely unfazed by my harsh entrance and words, she leans in her chair and looks at me already in her shrink mode.
“How so?”
“Because it comes back to bite you in the ass.”
It’s not really her fault, but I had to unload part of all these messed up feelings onto somebody, and she’s the first to cross my path, so it might as well be her. It was she, after all, who mentioned digging into what had happened. Although, I didn’t get the chance to do it myself before it came back to haunt me, destroying what little of normality I’ve built in recent weeks.
I grip the back of the chair, too restless to sit down. Doctor Miller must sense it too because she doesn’t even suggest it.
“Care to elaborate?”
So I do. I tell her everything that has happened since I last saw her. Everything. Hayden. Game. Seeing Ben for the first time since high school. His revelation. Hayden and me breaking up. Every. Single. Thing.
I unload it all so there is nothing left to say, and once all the words are out, I feel empty and drained.
Collapsing in the chair, I look at her pensive face. “What now?”
“What now indeed?”
I narrow my eyes at her. I’m so done with this answer the question with a question crap. “I asked the question first.”
“What I would like to know is why do you suddenly care about the other driver? Didn’t you say it was you who was responsible for the accident?”
“Yes, but…”
“No buts, either it’s you, or it’s him. Which one is it, Callie? Who’s the one to blame, really? And is there even a point in blaming anybody?”
I press my lips in a tight line, not knowing how to answer.
“The way I see it, you can do two things. You can embrace what happened, learn how to forgive yourself and Hayden’s father so you can finally move on with your life, or you can dwell on the past and in the process lose the person you obviously care about.”
Care about. That’s sure one way of putting it. My feelings for Hayden are much more complex than caring, and that’s the main problem.
Doctor Miller looks down at her wrist. “Our time’s up.”
“Are you kidding me?” I ask, looking between her and the watch.
“Unfortunately no, but I think you have enough to think about as it is.”
Groaning, I tilt my head back. “I seriously don’t know why I even bother since you don’t give me any answers.”
A teasing smile spreads on her lips. She’s enjoying torturing me. “Yet you keep coming back.”
My only answer is to glare because she’s right. I do keep coming back. She must see something because she doesn’t wait for me to give her an answer before continuing. “Since the exams are next week followed by the holidays, I’ll see you once you get back.”
Once you get back. What a joke. That would imply that I have somewhere to go to, to begin with, which I don’t. I haven’t talked to my aunt since leaving for college, but I don’t say that. I unloaded a lot of crap as it is, I don’t need to add to it.
Gabbing my stuff, suddenly eager to leave, I get up. “Sure, I’ll see you after the holidays.”
I head for the door when doctor Miller’s voice calls back. “And Callie?”
“Yes?”
“There is no shame in wanting to be happy, in wanting a future for yourself. Your parents would want that for you.”
She’s right, they would, but I’m still not sure I deserve it and even if I do, how can I have a future with Hayden? After everything that has happened, how could we ever truly be happy?
Chapter Fifty-Four
CALLIE
One good thing about insomnia? It leaves you with enough time to study when exams roll around. Which is exactly what I need since I’ve been like a zombie these past few days, staying in bed and staring at nothing.
Although my first instinct was to run—pack my things and go, doesn’t even matter where—once I calmed down I knew I couldn’t do it. Going to Blairwood was what my parents wanted for me. I disappointed them enough as it is, I wasn’t about to do it again by quitting school.
So I threw myself into studying every waking moment. It occupied me enough that I didn’t think about Hayden and all that happened—much.
I’ve just finished with my English lit exam and I’m walking back to my dorm where I’ve been hiding all this time when I hear a voice call my name.
My back stiffens instantly, and it takes me a moment to register who the voice belongs to.
Forcing myself to relax, I turn around and stop, waiting for him to join me. “Dean Wilson.”
A few people give us curious glances, but most of them are too stuck in their own world to even notice.
“Callie, how have you been doing?”
“I…” think I’m dying inside. “Good, thank you.”
He smiles at me warmly, lines on his face softening. “So happy to hear that. I hope the exams are going well?”
“As well as I can hope for.” At least that was true. The only exam I was worried about was statistics.
“That’s great to hear. I knew you’d fit in well here. Only a few more days, and then you’ll finally get some time to relax. And while we’re at that, I wanted to remind you of the Christmas ball.”
My eyes fall shut, pain squeezing my chest.
There will be a Christmas ball. I want you to go with me.
With everything happening, I totally forgot about it.
“I wanted to confirm with you about giving the awards? I know we talked about it, and as you know it would mean a great deal…”
“Eh… dean, I’m so sorry to say this, but I think I won’t be able to come. I was looking into flights home and had to book one that’s on the day of the ball, so…” I blurt in a hurry, feeling a pang of guilt for lying. But there is no way I can attend the ball. It was supposed to be Hayden and I. Knowing he’ll be there… it just feels wrong.
“Are you sure?” He seems genuinely disappointed by the prospect and now I feel even worse. “The last time we talked about it you seemed really excited about doing it.”
“I did, but so much has happened, and I…” I shrug, not knowing what else to say.
“Well, I’m so sorry to hear that. I know it would mean a lot to your parents. They were really dedicated to this cause, and with you sponsoring another scholarship, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to announce it. But if you can’t postpone your return, I understand.” His hand falls on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll see you later, Callie. Good luck with the rest of your exams.”
If I was feeling guilty before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel now. Complete and utter disappointment. That’s what I am, complete and utter disappointmen
t.
“Wait!” I call out. Dean looks over his shoulder, raising his bushy brows in silent question. “I’ll stay and do it.”
“Are you sure? Won’t you have a problem with your plane ticket?”
Maybe if there was one there would be, but since there isn’t… “It’ll be fine. I’ll figure it out.”
“Splendid!” He clasps his hands happily. “I’ll see you on Friday then.”
“See you Friday,” I say weakly as I watch him get lost between the students.
Sighing loudly, the enormity of what I’ve done finally settles in. I’m going to the Christmas ball where I’ll be expected to deliver a prize in front of a room full of people.
The same ball I was supposed to attend with Hayden. He’ll be there. My heart skips a beat at the idea, the yearning I’ve been trying to fight off growing stronger underneath the surface. God, I miss him. I shouldn’t, I should forget everything about him, but I can’t.
What the heck have I gotten myself into?
Chapter Fifty-Five
CALLIE
“You look so beautiful!” Yasmin gushes around me.
“You think?” I ask, letting my hand slide down the soft material, smoothing non-existent wrinkles. “It’s not too much?”
I knew from before that the event is a black-tie, so I was expected to dress up, but since I haven’t done it in so long it just all seemed weird. On top of it all, I had to squeeze in a last-minute shopping trip because my closet consists of leggings, shirts, and occasional sweater.
“It’s perfect!”
“I’ll have to take you for your word.”
I should have probably gone for a knee-length dress, but since I was feeling self-conscious about my scars, I opted for a floor-length dress instead. It’ll probably draw more attention, but better they focus on the dress than what I’m hiding underneath.
The dress is actually pretty simple. A pale yellow silk dress with a sweetheart neckline. It hugs my waist and falls down, touching the floor. Tiny straps cover my shoulders and there is a slightly thicker strap that falls over my upper arm.
“I like what you’ve done with my hair,” I comment, looking at the reflection in the mirror.
While my makeup is pretty minimalistic, Yasmin went all out while doing my hair. Seriously, is there something this girl can’t do? She pulled my hair to the left side, braided the upper half, all the way to my chin, and then curled the bottom half, leaving a loose strand of hair to give the whole look a messy vibe.
She gives it another look, fussing about a strand here and there, before stepping back. “It did turn out pretty amazing, didn’t it?”
“Maybe I’ll turn you into my personal hairdresser,” I tease, nudging her with my hip.
“Yeah, right.”
“You sure you don’t want to join me?” I ask once again, although in reality, I want to beg her to come with me. Taking a small clutch from the bed, I check to make sure I have everything I might need inside. “How the hell aren’t you invited anyway? If somebody should be there, it’s you. I don’t think I met a more hardworking person in my life.”
“No idea,” she shrugs. “Besides, it’s not my thing. I work hard because that’s how I’ve been raised, and I volunteer because I love to do it. Working with those kids is the highlight of my week. I’m planning to look more into education as a potential major during the break.”
“That’s amazing, Yas. I think you’d be really good at it.”
“I guess we’ll see. You ready?”
My grip tightens around the clutch, knuckles turning white. Forcing myself to release the hold, I inhale deeply.
Was I ready? I’m not sure I’ll ever be. But I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?
“Not in the least,” I say truthfully. “He’ll be there.”
I don’t have to clarify who “he” is, Yasmin already knows. “What are you going to do?”
“Give my best to avoid him?”
She lifts her brow, “How did that turn out so far?”
“I know,” I sigh. “What other choice do I have?”
Her hands land on my shoulders, forcing me to look at her determined face. For days she’s been doing her best to be a good friend, but I can see that she doesn’t agree with the way I’m handling things. You’d think she’d pick my side no matter what since she doesn’t like athletes all that much, but no. I guess it was too much to hope she’ll keep her thoughts to herself much longer. “You can choose to be happy.”
“Yasmin…” I try, but she doesn’t want to listen.
“You can’t deny you’ve been miserable. You’ve been sulking around the room for two weeks. It’s time to put on big girl panties and conquer those demons of yours, Callie.” She takes my hands in hers and gives them a tight squeeze. A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to swallow. “Choose to be happy.”
Is that really what it comes down to? Choosing to be happy?
HAYDEN
As discreetly as possible, I tug at the collar of my shirt. The damn tie is suffocating me.
“Stop acting like a pussy,” Nixon hisses as Coach gives us a disapproving glare from the other side of the room where he’s talking to some of his old players.
“Whose idea was it to dress us like monkeys?” I grumble, but let my arms fall down by my sides.
“You know how Coach gets about these things.” Nix takes a glass of champagne from the passing waiter, he looks down at the bubbly liquid, shrugs and takes a long sip, making a face as he swallows. “Why isn’t there some normal stuff instead of this bubbly shit is a better question.”
I look around the room, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. The room is full of people, although, Christmas ball was the last activity before campus shuts down before the upcoming holidays.
“She ain’t here, man,” Nix says, doing a sweep of his own.
“How the hell would you know?”
“I have eyes.”
“She was supposed to be here.” Would she find a way to get out of it just to avoid me? Possibly. And now I wish I had a drink of my own, but with Coach’s hawk-like gaze following our every movement I don’t think getting wasted on the open bar is the smartest idea. I’m on his shit list as it is. My game has been a disaster. At this point, I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t bench me for the rest of the season.
“We would have seen her by now.”
I feel a pang of disappointment. This was my last chance to get to talk to her before we all leave for the holidays. Is she even going? Or will she stay in some hotel around here and be all alone until classes start again? Knowing Callie, probably the latter. She hates imposing on people, family or not.
“Good evening, everyone!” Dean Wilson says, taking the podium. The chatter quiets down as everybody turns to listen to his speech, a few of the Ravens joining us. “It’s my honor to welcome you to our annual Christmas ball which has been a part of Blairwood’s history for many years so far.”
I tune him off after that since I heard more-or-less the same speech last year. I liked the idea behind the Christmas ball. It not only recognizes people’s accomplishments in academic, sports, and arts but also people who impacted the community both on and off-campus. Some people like me know how to catch a ball, other people have kind hearts, it only seems fair to acknowledge both.
But today, I only care about one person, and that person isn’t here.
Now what?
Maybe I should go by her dorm, see if somebody will let me slip inside and then pound on her door until she finally gives in. Everybody, Callie included, has a breaking point. I don’t want to do it, but she isn’t leaving me much of a choice. I don’t want to leave the campus without talking to her and making sure she’s all right.
I watch as people come and go from the stage, only stopping for a few moments to make a short speech, as I contemplate my next move. I’m so lost to my thoughts that I almost miss it.
“We have a lot of accomplished athletes on this campus,
but no one more deserving than our very own Blairwood Raven. With one thousand six hundred and five yards run and counting, please welcome to the stage Hayden Watson!”
Hoots and hollers spread through the room, snapping me out of my mind.
Nixon lets out an ear-piercing whistle, while Emmett slaps me on the back as I pass next to him on my way to the stage and when I do, I almost lose my cool.
She’s here.
My heart kicks up when I see her, all wide-eyed, standing next to the dean. I’m breathless, and it has nothing with exertion, and everything to do with her.
Callie.
She looks even more beautiful than ever in a long dress that hugs her slender frame. Beautiful and ready to bolt. Not a chance in hell of that happening.
Those delicate fingers are wrapped around the little statue clasped in her hands, knuckles white. She obviously didn’t know she’ll have to give the award to me.
I cross the distance between us with renewed determination, stopping only when the tips of my toes touch hers. My hands clasp around hers, fingers brushing her soft skin as I lean in, the familiar sweet scent that’s all Callie surrounding me.
“C-Congrats,” she squeaks, trying to fight off the shock.
Her body is stiff, but I don’t let it deter me. Brushing one of the runaway strands of her hair behind her ear, I whisper, “Thanks. And Callie?” We’re so close, my lips brush against her earlobe and I can feel her body shiver at the touch. Unable to resist it, I place my hand on her shoulder and let my hand slide down her arm to her clasped hands. “You’re not leaving here tonight until we talk.”
I take a step back before she can protest, but don’t let go of her hand.
Dean Wilson quirks his brow at me as if to ask what the hell is taking so long. I’m not sure how long I’ve been all in Callie’s personal space, it couldn’t be that much, but I guess long enough to draw some attention.
Disentangling the little statue from her hands, I shift it to my free one, and lace my finger with hers, pulling her with me as I move toward the microphone.