Shamed with guilt and humiliated beyond words, Callie made her way towards the exit, ignoring Chris shouting her name. She made her way down the stairs, ignoring the noises coming from the people and machines in the casino like she had before when she first entered the building just an hour ago.
Finally making it outside, she stared up at the night sky and inhaled the fresh air, wishing that she hadn't come to this stupid date. Wishing that it had all turned out differently. Wishing...wishing...wishing...
"My dress is ruined!" Callie heard a feminine shriek from behind her. She didn't have to turn to see that it was Brenda but she turned anyway. Chris, Abel and Susan followed in a line behind the angry Asian woman with exotic features.
Brenda glared accusingly at Callie. "This dress was made by my dead grandmother! She gave it to me before she passed away on my 21st birthday and look! Look at it!" She pointed to what looked like gravy and other food stains on the fine red silk Chinese dress with green vine patterns. "It's ruined!"
"I'm sorry," Callie whispered.
"Brenda, calm down." Chris grabbed his furious dates shoulders. "It was an accident."
"He's a walking accident!" Brenda cried, almost in tears. "This dress is precious to me! It's priceless!"
"Then you shouldn't have worn it, dear," Abel commented, "it would have saved you a lot of worry." Brenda glared at him. Humming pleasantly to himself, Abel ignored her glare and stepped beside Callie.
Suddenly, Callie felt too weary and hollow inside to cry anymore. He looked worried about her but she knew that she had ruined the night and disappointed Chris. He had done all this for her and she ruined it. She didn't even deserve to be his friend.
"I'll drop you all home," Chris was saying but Callie cut him off.
"I'll take a taxi home."
Chris swung around to frown at her. "Cal-"
Callie shook her head. "I'm taking the taxi." She couldn't bare to be in the same space as him. Right now she didn't feel worthy to be in his presence.
"I'll take you home," Abel offered. "I don't mind."
"Let him," Chris told her, sending her a look that told her that he wasn't going to argue with her about it.
Feeling numb, Callie shrugged and nodded. "It was nice meeting you," Susan said to her with a small smile before following Chris and Brenda.
What a nice woman, Callie thought numbly. She turned and followed Abel to the valet parking area. "Wait right here, hun," Abel told her before disappearing. She only waited for a couple of minutes before a fancy red Porsche parked in front of her.
Abel stepped out the driver's side and walked around to open the passenger door for her. "After you."
"I'll dirty your car," Callie said, knowing that there was food all over her back.
"Darling, it's just a car." Abel sniffed with offense. "Now get in the car or do I have to kidnap you?"
Sighing, Callie awkwardly slid inside the tiny car, hoping she didn't get stuck inside. The ride to her apartment was a quiet one. Surprisingly, Abel remained silent. He was probably sensitive enough to sense that she wasn't in a talking mood and for that she was grateful. When they arrived at her apartment complex, Abel parked the car and jumped out to open her door for her.
"Do you want me to walk you in?"
Callie shook her head tiredly. "No thank you. Please go home and get some rest. It was really nice to meet you, Abel. I owe you a lot."
Abel studied her thoughtfully before saying, "I haven't really done much."
Callie smiled weakly. "You've done enough. Thanks for the ride." She walked around him and entered the brown building, feeling Abel's eyes on her until she disappeared inside.
For the next five days Callie avoided Chris and everyone else like a plague and locked herself within the confines of her apartment. It was the only place where she felt safe from the harshness of the real world.
Chapter Six
Enough of this, Chris thought darkly as he jerked his door open and slammed it behind him. He had had enough of waiting for Cal to snap out his self pity. It was time for action.
"Cal!" He shouted, pounding on his irritably wallowing friend's door. "Cal! Open up! I know you're in there."
It's already been six days and he hadn't seen hide nor hair of Cal. Yeah, sure, the first couple of days Chris had been tolerant, knowing that Cal must feel embarrassed to face him but after five days of silence it started to make him mad. Now Cal was just being a coward. He wouldn't even take his calls.
"Cal!" Chris pounded harder on the door. "Open up!"
"No," a muffled husky voice said from the other side of the door.
Chris stared grimly at the brown door, placing his hands on his hips with frustration. "And why the hell not?"
"Just go away, Chris."
"I'm not going anywhere until we talk."
"We're talking now so go away."
He glared at the door. "Open up."
"No," Cal's voice said stubbornly.
Cursing under his breath at Cal's stubbornness, Chris paused and smiled blindingly at the elderly woman making her way past him. He politely acknowledged her with a nod."Ma'am." The old woman eyed him suspiciously and went about her business but not before glancing back to send him a look of appreciation for his handsomeness.
Ah, if I was only fifty years younger, the old maid thought wistfully before entering her apartment. They don't make men like that anymore.
Watching the old woman disappear into her apartment, Chris turned his attention back to Cal's door. "Cal, it's not healthy for you to be cooped up in there. Look, what happened Friday...it wasn't your fault. It was an accident."
"It was a disaster." A pathetic sniffle followed.
It had been a disaster. Chris's brow furrowed at the thought. He had set Cal up on a blind date to make the poor guy more sociable but it was his bad for forcing his new vulnerable friend to attend the Fireman's Ball in the first place. It was obvious now that Cal wasn't ready for balls or dates. The guy lacked major self confidence.
Staring at the door, Chris said, "I heard that the local fire station received a generous and anonymous donation of ten grand the day after the ball. It was from you, wasn't it?"
The deafening silence from the other side of the door confirmed his assumption. I knew it, Chris thought with mixed feeling. He felt pride for having such a friend that was kind enough to donate such a large amount of money but on the other hand he was still ticked that Cal only donated it because he felt responsible. Chris was part of the blame too for bringing him along that night.
It had really been a strange night. One minute he had been trying to catch up with Cal and the next he was being dragged away by his brother, Abel, blabbing about some rude guy he just met in the bathroom. Breaking away from Abel's chattering, the next thing he knows he sees Cal kissing a woman he had obviously mistaken for Susan because of the dress and had been punched for it. Then all hell had broken loose.
"Cal. Look man, I feel ridiculous standing out here talking to your damn door. Are you going to let me in or not?"
"Not."
Chris swore under his breath again. He's had enough of this. "Cal, open this god damn door or I'll bust it open."
"Do it and I'll report you to the cops."
Chris shot the door a dark glare. Why of all the pig-headedness...
"Fine," he barked, "then I'll tell the manager to open this door because...because I have reason to believe that you're in possession of drugs." Hah! See what he had to say about that one.
"Go ahead," Cal shot back, unrattled. "The manager is on my payroll. I own this building."
"Well shit," Chris muttered, running his fingers through his hair in frustration, then shot the door another dark look. He hadn't known that little fact.
The building must have been one of the properties that Cal inherited from his grandmother. Though for the life of him, he couldn't understand why a rich guy like Cal would live in an apartment like this. Sure it was a decent place but it was no palace.
Cal could afford to live in a life of luxury but he didn't, another thing he respected about his friend. Cal didn't flaunt his wealth. Though truth be told, Chris didn't think that Cal knew what the hell to do with all that money anyway.
Cal's not living in an apartment, Chris thought grimly. He's living in his own damn prison, hiding away from the world.
"All right, fine." Chris slapped a hand on the door. "You wanna be like that? I'll set this building on fire then."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Try me, pal. I'll do it. I'll just set a little fire in front of your door, maintain it till the firemen arrive and watched them bust through your door. How do you like the sound of that, huh?"
"You're nuts."
"Open," he stressed, "the door." He knew he was playing with fire but he also knew that Cal would do anything to prevent attracting attention to himself.
Chris waited, staring at the peep-hole of the door with held breath. He released it when he heard clicks from the other side and the door squeaked open. A haggard looking Cal greeted him, face devoid of expression.
"You look like shit," Chris told him, taking in the sight of Cal wrapped in a blue blanket. A fading purple bruise on his left eye dominated Cal's chubby features and Chris couldn't help but grimace. His friend didn't look well. And he could use a brush, Chris thought, eying Cal's Bride Of Frankenstein hair do.
"Gee," was Cal's sarcastic reply. "Thanks. Nice to see you too." Without another word, he turned and shuffled noisily away.
Chris let himself in, closing the door behind him as his eyes scanned the dim apartment. There was barely any light. Cal had covered every window with curtains. The only light came from a lamp in the living room and the small kitchen window.
"Did someone die?" Chris asked, kicking a pizza box out his way. Jesus, the place was a mess.
"Shut up," he heard Cal mutter. Chris followed him into the kitchen and watched his friend pour hot water inside a black mug with a tea bag from a white tea pot.
"How long are you going to keep locking yourself in here, Cal?"
"Forever," Cal said without looking at him. He shuffled around Chris and sat down on one of the mitch-match kitchen chairs. The brown wooden chair squeaked under Cal's weight as he sat down and held the steaming mug between his hands. He still wouldn't look at Chris which pissed Chris off even more.
"What you're doing isn't healthy."
"It's none of your business."
"So that's it?" Chris planted himself in front of Cal. "One accident and you're just gonna tuck your tail between your legs and not step out the door?"
"Yup."
"Now you're just being stupid."
"You don't understand," Cal whispered. "Just look at you."
Chris frowned. "What about me?"
Cal finally looked up but the movement was slow and solemn. "You're perfect."
Chris stared at Cal, completely thrown back. Perfect? Cal thought that he was perfect? What a load of shit. Cal wasn't the only one that could keep secrets well. Chris has his own.
"I'm not perfect," he bit out. "Far from it."
Cal sighed. "What do you want?"
"I want you to get out this damn apartment and take in some fresh air."
"Can't you see that I'm a walking disaster?" Cal shook his head. "The world is better off without me walking in the streets."
"You're just feeling sorry for yourself."
"No one else is."
Chris snapped. "Because you have enough god damn pity for yourself! Look at you! You look a mess!"
Cal snapped back, fire returning in his eyes. "What I do or look like is none of your business, Chris! If I want to wallow in self pity in my own home then it's my prerogative to do so!"
"It is my business," Chris insisted. "I'm your friend and I don't let friends kill themselves because that's exactly what you're doing, Cal. You're killing yourself."
"Shut up."
"It's not healthy, the way you eat when you're depressed."
"Shut up."
"And it's not healthy to be depressed all the goddamn time."
"Shut up!" Cal screamed. "You have no idea what I'm going through!"
Chris sneered. "Sure I do. You're feeling sorry for yourself. Poor fat Cal Picket."
Cal gaped at him. This was the first time that he had ever commented about his friends weight. Chris didn't feel guilty about it. He had been lenient with Cal, knowing that his weight was a sore subject. In fact, Cal reminded him a lot like his brother who had the same weight problem back in the day from elementary school through a couple of years in high school. But enough was enough. Chris felt like it was time for him to step in and get tough.
"You heard me," Chris said, voice strangely calm. "Poor fat Cal Picket."
Cal's bottom lip trembled. "Shut up."
"What's the matter? Does the truth hurt?"
"Shut up!" Cal slammed his mug on the table and stood, glaring at Chris. "Be quiet!"
"No, I wont be quiet." Chris shook his head. "You need to accept that your heavy and do something about it, not lock yourself up in this damn apartment and hope that the world forgets about you because I won't forget. I refuse."
"It's not just my weight that's the problem!" Cal cried, "it's me. Everything about me! I'm not...not good."
Chris looked sadly at him. "Why are you always so hard on yourself?"
"Why do you care so much?" Cal shot back. "You say it's cause I'm your friend but you barely know me. We've only known each other for a couple of months. Why do you care about me so much? Why can't you leave me alone?"
Chris opened his mouth and shut it. Why? The hell if he knew why! It was just that...damn. There was just something about Cal that got to him. Maybe because he reminded Chris so much like Abel when they were younger, who knows. There was just something about the other guy that rose his protective instincts.
Cal sniffed. "Forget it. I don't want to talk anymore. Get out."
Chris tensed. "Is that what you really want? You want me to walk away and leave you alone?"
"Yes."
"I wont come back."
Cal stared at him. "Okay."
"I'm serious Cal. If I walk out, I'm not coming back. Our friendship is over because I wont sit back and watch you destroy your life before you even had the chance to live it yet."
Cal continued to stare at him but this time he was silent. So be it then, Chris thought and turned around. He walked out of Cal's life without a backward glance but inside...inside he felt a sense of sadness because he knew that Cal could be better than this.
Better than he could possibly know.
***
Callie heard the front door close with a soft click. She stared at the space Chris had been a few seconds ago in front of her and dropped back down on her seat.
That's it, she thought numbly, I've successfully driven him away. It's better this way.
But Callie didn't feel better. She felt horrible and heartbroken. She intentionally pushed Chris away but the pain...the pain was unbearable. Bowing her head, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed. Chris...Chris was gone, out of her life for good. And her heart bled at the very thought of it.
Callie wanted to run after him, to tell him that she understood exactly what he had been telling her. She wanted to beg him for forgiveness, that she'd do anything to bring him back into her life but what would be the point? Either she stayed by his side and continue to be his friend, watching other women get their hands on him or stay away. Either way...it was like a death sentence to her heart.
Chris, she chanted, Chris, Chris, Chris! I don't want to let you go but I can't keep lying to you. It's not fair...but at the same time I don't want you to hate me. I'm so afraid.
Callie heard her home phone ringing but she ignored it, wishing that the world would just leave her alone.
"Cal?" Abel's voice floated in the kitchen, coming from the answering machine in the living room. "It's Abel. I just talked to Chris and asked about you but he gave me
your number instead. He said you two weren't friends anymore. Honey, listen. You love him right? Then don't let him get away, you'll regret it. I bet you're regretting it right now. Go to him, Cal. I don't care whether its to admit your lie or just to restore your friendship. Just go. You're not the only one hurting, darling. Sure your friendship started out in a lie but the world works in mysterious ways. Who knows, when you finally work up the courage to tell him the truth, maybe he'll forgive you. Take the chance. Chris is worth it."
Callie raised her head up from her hands and stared at the direction of the answering machine. She remained where she was for thirty minutes straight fighting with herself, so mixed with indecision but she always came up with the same conclusion. She just couldn't live without Chris. She thought that for him she could but it hurt too much. Far too much. Callie battled with herself for another thirty minutes before surrendering with defeat.
Dialing the number of the pizza place, Callie stared at the door Chris walked out of, hoping that she wasn't too late. That he'd take her back. Twenty minutes later she stood in front of his door, box of pizza in her hands. Before coming she had taken a shower and combed her hair, putting on a clean pair of grey sweats and white shirt. There was nothing she could do about the bruise on her left eye though.
Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward and rang the doorbell. Chris must have not looked through the peep hole because when he opened the door, a flash of surprise crossed his handsome face before it went blank.
"H-hi." She smiled tentatively. "F-for you." She shoved the box of pizza under his nose. Chris stared at the box then at her. He made no move to take it.
Swallowing, Callie opened the pizza box. She had written the words 'I'm sorry. Take me back. Forgive me?' with the jelly beans she found in her kitchen. When he still didn't take the pizza, Callie bent down and pressed play on the radio she had set by his door.
"Baby come back," the radio played, "you can blame it all on me. I was wrong and I just can't live without you."
Chris met her hopeful and pitiable eyes and burst into a fit of laughter. Callie smiled, unsure how to take his laughter. Chris laughed for three minutes straight, unable to look at Callie without bursting into another fit of masculine laughter as the song played on.
Big Fat Liar Page 6