by Nicole Helm
“I thought it might help.”
“Help?”
He slid into the seat next to her, watching the stage where people were setting up. “You still haven’t gotten that permit from Dana, have you?”
“No.”
“Dana and my mom were friends. I thought throwing myself into the ring might help.”
“You’ve been away a long time, Trevor. I don’t think you hold as much weight as you think you do.”
He scowled and didn’t respond. Which was good. She was just going to sit here and be silent and hope like hell the next two hours flew by.
It was much different than her high school graduation. She and Trevor’s ceremony had been at the high school, crammed into the small gym with no air conditioning. She could remember sweating and being miserable.
This building was bright and airy, comfortable and modern looking. As the procession started and the graduates marched in with their familiar red and white robes, Callie had to swallow hard against the memories. She’d been a mess at her graduation, missing everyone, feeling useless and directionless.
She was eleven years removed from high school graduation. Nothing about that night really mattered now, but she felt like that girl all over again. She should have known better than to agree to this. Why had she?
Because of Trevor. Didn’t it always come back to him? How pathetic.
The graduates processed, sat, were greeted by speakers. The student council president gave his speech and then it was Shelby’s turn to be announced as valedictorian and give her speech.
Callie sat, trying not to fidget, trying to fight the urge to bolt and run for the doors. An administrator Callie didn’t recognize stepped up to the podium and began to introduce Shelby’s accomplishments.
Callie looked at the poised eighteen-year-old who smiled at the audience as the principal read off her amazing feats. Congratulations, Shelby, you’re making me feel like an idiot and you’re not even trying.
Shelby took the podium looking very grown-up and self-possessed. Looking so much like Mrs. Steele Callie had to take a breath. When she snuck a look at Trevor, she knew he saw it too. His jaw clenched, his fingers tensed on his legs.
Then Shelby began to speak, and even Callie was pulled into the girl’s words.
“Parents, teachers, administrators, family members and friends. Today is the day that most of us sitting in caps and gowns have been dreaming about for a very long time. It’s our ticket to adulthood, to doing what we want. We have a long way to go, but this is our starting point.
“For the past four years, I have worked hard—so hard—to achieve this honor. I was taught and believed wholeheartedly that hard work will get you whatever you want, and I have always been determined to get exactly what I want.”
Shelby took a deep breath and Callie watched as Trevor took it with her. He was so vested in this. Callie wondered if he noticed anyone besides himself and Shelby in the large auditorium.
“But, this year, I’ve realized something. Hard work can’t give you everything. There are too many things outside our ability to control.” Shelby’s gaze landed on Callie, then Trevor. “No matter how hard I worked, I couldn’t stop my mother from passing away. I could not stop my world from changing drastically. And that was a hard thing to learn, to accept.”
Shelby swallowed and looked down at the cards in front of her, the only sign she was remotely affected by talking about her mother. Then she looked up, eyes clear, voice strong, and continued.
“But it wasn’t an excuse to give up or not work. It was a rug pulled out from under me. In our future, we will all have that metaphorical rug pulled out from under us, probably more than once. What matters, what will always matter, is what we do in the face of it.”
Well, that hit home too much for Callie’s comfort. She didn’t like getting perspective from a teenager.
“Will you dust yourself off and keep working? Will you stay on the ground and give up? Only you can choose. We stand here on the edge of our adult lives, and only we can choose what paths we take. Not our teachers, not our parents, not our friends. They can guide us, shape us, influence us, but they cannot make our choices for us.
“I promise myself, standing on this stage, that I will always get back up. I will always work hard no matter what curveball life throws. Because it’s worth it. I hope you’ll do the same. Congratulation, graduates. Thank you.”
Shelby stepped down and Callie looked over at Trevor. His jaw was clenched tight and there was something so sweet and completely different about the emotion on his face.
“You’re so proud,” she whispered into his ear, feeling oddly proud herself.
His smile was sheepish. “Yeah.”
“It’s sweet.” She squeezed his hand, and when he held on, she didn’t try to take it away. As Shelby’s class crossed the stage, one by one, Trevor and Callie watched, hand in hand.
Shelby fought her way through the crowd of classmates and their families trying to get to the seats Trevor and Callie had been sitting in. She tried to focus on that image. Trevor and Callie sitting next to each other, watching her speak the words she’d slaved over. If she didn’t focus on that image, she’d have to see all the families around her. All the parents with tears in their eyes as they held on to their freshly graduated daughters and sons.
Shelby’s throat constricted, but she refused to cry. Steeles don’t cry. Her parents weren’t here, but she couldn’t change it. Crying wouldn’t change that horrible sense of loss. Crying wouldn’t ease the fear she was going to be completely alone. So she wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t. Steeles don’t cry, Mom’s voice repeated.
Finally, she spotted Trevor’s head above the rest of the crowd, and her heart constricted along with her throat. If she didn’t look at his eyes, he looked so much like a younger version of Dad. If he were Dad, she wouldn’t have to worry about the panic clogging her throat. She wouldn’t have the words please don’t go pounding in her head every time she was near him.
Her vision blurred momentarily, but it was clear by the time she reached Trevor.
Trevor smiled, and she focused on his eyes because they didn’t make her think about Dad.
“You did good, kid,” he said, and his voice wasn’t quite steady, which made Shelby’s heart wobble uncertainly in her chest.
Don’t cry. Steeles don’t cry. Don’t cry. “Thanks,” she managed, sliding a glance toward Callie.
“Your speech was great, and you know I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true. You’re…” Callie’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Pretty smart, I guess.”
Shelby smiled, and tried her best to be genuine, without thinking about what Mom would have said or felt about Callie being here. “Thanks. I-I’m glad you came.”
A couple people walked by and patted her on the shoulder, congratulating her on her speech. Some friends stopped with hugs or smiles or promises to meet up later at Project Graduation, and Shelby began to feel as if she was above it all, watching from somewhere outside her body.
Dan appeared, helped bring her back to earth. “We should go turn in our cap and gown, Shel. They won’t let you into Project Graduation if you forget.”
Shelby nodded, looked at Trevor. Graduation was over. He’d promised to stay until September, but his real responsibilities were pretty much done. She was eighteen, a high school graduate. She could take care of herself.
She didn’t want to take care of herself. Her vision was blurry again and she felt rooted to her spot.
“Go ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Trevor offered a smile.
Tomorrow. He’d be there tomorrow. But in September he’d go back to Seattle. Forever away. Just visiting him would require a plane ticket. What if she needed him? What if she needed help? Again Shelby looked at Callie and all she could do was hope, hope with everything she had, something was going to keep him here. She needed him. She couldn’t say it to his face, but deep down she needed him.
“Yeah, I’ll be home bright
and early.”
Before she could turn with Dan to leave, Trevor pulled her into a hard hug. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered into her ear.
In that moment, the tears won. She forgot about everything else around her and sobbed into Trevor’s chest. All the walls she’d built to keep the pathetic part of her from escaping crumbled in the moment.
“Please don’t leave me,” she said, knowing her voice was weak and pathetic. She didn’t care, not right now.
He didn’t say anything, but he held on until she was ready to let go.
Chapter Eleven
Gutted didn’t begin to describe the clawing, empty feeling in his chest. Trevor pulled his car into the driveway and sat, foot on the brake, staring at the house in front of him.
Callie watched him in that quiet way she had acquired since the last time he’d been home. Two years ago she would have ignored what had happened, which he would prefer at the moment, or she would have told him to get over it.
He could still feel Shelby clutching him, could still feel her body shake as she’d said those words. Please don’t leave me.
That lump was in his throat again, and he couldn’t swallow it away. The weird burning sensation behind his eyes. All of those same things he’d dealt with when Shelby had accused him of being a terrible brother, of caring more about everyone else.
True, hurtful words, but they were no match to Shelby’s desperate plea. Trevor shoved the car into Park, not bothering to pull into the garage. He was being suffocated, pressed under a huge rock. He couldn’t breathe.
Without saying a word to Callie or sparing her a glance, he pushed out of the car, tearing at his tie. He couldn’t take a full breath and his heart began to hammer in his ears.
Jesus, what was happening?
“Trev?”
He stopped halfway to the house, bent over and rested his hands on his knees, desperate to catch a full breath.
“Trevor.” Callie’s voice was calm and her hand was strong and reassuring as it rested on his back. “Calm down. Just relax. Everything will be all right.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, horrified when something liquid and warm leaked out. He was not crying. No way. Not a chance. Steeles don’t cry. Not ever.
Callie’s hand rubbed right under his shoulder blade, and slowly her soothing words helped ease the rapid beating of his heart. “It’s all right. Everything will be fine. Slow down. Try to take a breath now.”
Trevor swallowed, managed one breath in and one breath out. He brushed at his cheeks with the back of his hand, hoping the darkness around them hid the action. He jerked his body upright. “I’m okay.” His throat felt raw and achy.
Callie’s hand remained on his back, rubbing a calming circle. “Was that a panic attack or something?”
“Hell if I know.”
“What did Shelby say to you?”
Trevor looked up. Callie’s expression was something between fear and anger, her question somewhere between concern and accusation.
“She said…” Trevor cleared his throat, opened his mouth to say the words, but they wouldn’t come out. Not without the lump, the weird heat behind his eyes. “Doesn’t matter.”
Callie stepped in front of him now and placed a hand on his chest, just above his heart. “Tell me what she said.”
He put his hand over hers. There was something in the moment he wanted to keep. This strange sensation wrapping around all the pain and fear and misery. Callie’s hand on his heart, he wanted that.
He cleared his throat again. “She said she didn’t want me to leave.” Please don’t leave me. Those words would haunt him no matter what he did.
“I know that hurts. I can’t imagine how hard that is for you.” Callie’s hand moved to touch his face, but then she changed course and wrapped her hand around his wrist, freeing the hand trapped against his heart.
“Maybe I should stay.”
“She’s laying the guilt on, and some of it’s on purpose.” Callie’s voice was strong and forceful where he felt anything but. “You have to stay strong. You have to do what’s right for you. It might take her a while to get it, to appreciate it, but neither of you gets anything out of you staying. She isn’t losing you if you leave. You can’t let her make you think she is.”
Trevor agreed, but he couldn’t figure out why Callie was so adamant about it. “Don’t you want me to stay?”
She froze at the question, and the anguish on her face had his heart shuddering to a slow, painful stop, but she quickly closed it off, built back the wall. “I want you to be happy.”
He nodded, but part of him wondered if she was telling the truth.
“I should get home. Are you going to be okay?”
Trevor stood there for a long time, not sure how to answer. He wasn’t okay, but Callie couldn’t help him. No one and nothing could. He was stuck in an impossible situation. No matter what happened in September, he’d be hurting someone.
“I’m fine,” Trevor lied, passing her on his way to the house. “See you tomorrow.” He didn’t look back, afraid if he did he’d fall apart again. He pushed into the house, Shelby’s words echoing in his head.
Chapter Twelve
“Aw, he’s grumpy.”
Em poking Trevor in the ribs didn’t help the situation. He wasn’t in the mood for teasing any more than he was in the mood to get up at the ass crack of dawn on a Saturday to prepare for Shelby’s graduation party.
That wasn’t the source of his bad mood, though. He wanted it to be, but the real reason was he’d been sleeping like shit for three days. Ever since Shelby had begged him not to leave her.
If he’d felt guilty before, this was a whole new level of heart-rending guilt. Escape wasn’t even a fantasy anymore, because it made him feel as disgustingly guilty as everything else.
Trevor lifted another twenty-four pack of water out of his trunk and hefted it into the kitchen of the Canteen. His limbs were heavy with fatigue, but he ignored it. Em and Callie had been exchanging worried glances over him all week, but he pretended he didn’t see. It was the only way he knew how to get through one day and then the next. Ignore everything but what had to be done, and hope the answer to all of his problems would fall into his lap at some point.
When he returned from the Canteen, Callie and Em had their heads together but stopped talking when he got within earshot. He didn’t react and picked up the boxes of soda from his trunk, repeating the process of dropping them off in the Canteen.
When he came for the last load, Em was gone and Callie was sitting on his trunk.
“You’re going to have to move.”
She shook her head. “Nope.”
“I’ve got one load left. Then I have to go to town and get all the barbecue stuff and then I’ve got to pick up the cake.” And then I’ve got to fling myself off the nearest tall building or mountain. Except, oh hey, there aren’t any of those around Pilot’s Point.
Callie hopped off the trunk but didn’t get out of his way. Instead, she stood defiantly in it. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks.” She looked pretty and fresh as she hadn’t had a chance to get all mucked up with engine grease yet. Both the jeans and the T-shirt she wore were tight enough to show off every slight curve. “You look hot.”
She frowned a little. “It’s not hot out here.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He took a step closer, feeling like he was standing on some kind of ledge. A breeze ruffled through the air and he could smell what he assumed was her shampoo, a hint of coconut.
She tried to create a disapproving look, but it came out half-assed when she didn’t fight off a smile.
It eased some of the edges, but left a strange feeling in its wake. A recklessness he didn’t know what to do with. He reached out and touched her ponytail, rubbing the ends between his fingers.
“Back off, Steele.” She gave him a light push so his hand dropped. “You’ve got too much on your mind right now and it’s making you crazy. You ne
ed some sleep.”
“You’re damn right I’ve got too much on my mind,” he muttered. He could feel the snaps on his control unlocking one by one. It was rare, and it felt freeing. Control and doing the right thing was apparently overrated.
“I know you’re hurting. You’re letting all this guilt eat you alive. Shelby’s pushing your buttons on purpose. Don’t let her.”
He grabbed Callie’s wrist and backed her against the car. “It’s not just about Shelby.” The guilt was, but the edginess wasn’t. Being around Callie every day added another layer to all the twisting emotions inside of him.
“Come on. This is about graduation and Shelby and her wanting you to stay, and you not belonging here.” She wrestled her hand free, though he kept her caged against the car. “Instead of letting her get to you, you need to be clear. You need to make her understand Pilot’s Point can’t be your home, and she can’t be selfish enough to demand it. You have to—”
“You know what, Callie, this new leaf is wonderful. But back the fuck off, okay?”
Her face immediately changed from friendly and earnest to something he recognized. A flash of hurt quickly covered by a slash of anger. “So, you’re allowed to give advice, but you won’t take it?”
“You think that because you’re finally getting your life together ten years too late you have any kind of insight into what I’ve got to deal with?”
He should have backed off. He should have kept his mouth shut, but there was an anger inside of him that had to be unleashed or he was going to explode. Losing control might have felt freeing, but danger lurked in all that freedom.
“Taking a shot at me make you feel better?”
“You would know.”
“Fine. You want to take your anger and frustration at the situation out on me. Do it.” She angled her chin like she was expecting some kind of blow. “You want to take all that guilt Shelby is laying on you and throw it in my face. Have at it. If it’ll make you feel better, go ahead. Unlike your sister, I—”