The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden

by Sorensen, Jessica

  “Well, if it isn’t little Miss Callie all grown up,” Caleb says and I stare at the pencil on the table in front of him, envisioning what it would be like to stab him in the eye multiple times and inflict as much pain as possible.

  “Mom thought you ran away,” Jackson says, licking the whip cream off the fork. “She texted you a thousand times.”

  “Good for her,” I snap. I’ve always had this bitter hatred toward my brother for bringing that asshole around. I know he didn’t know, but I can’t turn it off. “Can you tell her that we stopped by and that I’m okay so she can stop texting?"

  “No,” Jackson says. “I’m not your messenger. She’s just in the living room. Go tell her yourself.”

  “Why are you even here?” I ask and Kayden’s finger grazes the inside of my wrist. I blink at him. I’d almost forgotten he was there.

  Kayden shakes his head, and his emerald eyes convey something I don’t like. He can see it—sense it—hidden deep beneath the surface of my skin.

  Caleb rises up from the table and heads across the kitchen, his movements unhurried like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “So how’s college football?” he says to Kayden. “I’ve heard it’s a lot more intense at that level.”

  Kayden doesn’t take his eyes off me. “It’s not that bad. You just have to be tough enough to make it.”

  Caleb eyes Kayden’s inflamed cheek with a sadistic look in his expression as he opens the cupboard. “Yeah, you look pretty tough. Nice shiner by the way.”

  Kayden gives him a cold, hard stare, his fingers wrapping inward into his palms. “Didn’t you get kicked out of college for selling pot on campus?”

  “Hey, I had to make a living,” Caleb says, slamming the cupboard shut. “Not everyone has daddy’s money and a scholarship to live off of.”

  Kayden’s jaw tenses and I jerk on his arm. “Can we go?”

  He nods, backing toward the door with my hand in his and his eyes boring into Caleb, who’s growing uneasy.

  “No way,” Jackson says to me. “You are not leaving me here to be smothered by mom.”

  “Shouldn’t you be in Florida or whatever?” I ask with rage and unsteadiness in my voice. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”

  He messes with his hair as he gets up from the kitchen table with the pie tin in his hand. “We had a last minute change of heart.”

  “Didn’t you have to work?” I ask derisively. “Or did you just quit another job?”

  “I have a fucking job, Callie.” He tosses the tin into the kitchen sink and glares at me. “So quit being a cunt. I don’t know why you always have to talk to me like this.”

  “Hey.” Kayden steps in on my behalf, moving in front of me. “Don’t fucking call her names.”

  “I can call her whatever I want,” Jackson retorts, folding his arms over his chest. “You don’t know the shit she put this family through. Her little issues or whatever they are have made my mom basically crazy.”

  Caleb watches me with interest, waiting for me to react. I can’t look away from him. I want to, but he’s overpowering me because he knows what my issues are—he put them there. I slowly start to die, wilt into pieces like I’m a Night-Blooming Cereus, the flowers that bloom only once a year at night and die before sunrise, their lives and happiness short lived.

  “Leave her alone.” Caleb arches his eyebrows at me with a smile surfacing at his lips. “Maybe Callie has reasons for the way she acts.”

  Take me out of here. Take me out of here. Save me. Save me. Save me.

  Suddenly, my legs are moving and I’m being dragged somewhere. The back door swings open and I’m hauled down the stairs into the center of the driveway.

  Standing at the bottom of the stairs and in the light of the porch, Kayden observes me with uncertainty in his eyes, his hands on my shoulders. “What’s wrong? You have this look in your eyes…”

  I let out a strangled breath. “I don’t like my brother very much.”

  The muscles in his neck move as he swallows hard. “Callie, I know what fear is. Trust me. I’ve seen it on my brothers’ faces, felt it many times. You’re afraid of him. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “Afraid of my brother?” I play dumb, praying to God he won’t find out, fearing what will happen if he does.

  “Don’t do that,” he says sternly, placing his hand on my cheek. “You’re afraid of Caleb. He was… he was the one who did it to you?”

  “Yes.” I don’t even mean to say it, it just falls out into the world. I stare at him, listening to my heart thump inside my chest, to the wind sing, to the sound of someone breaking somewhere in the world.

  He forces a lump down in his throat. “Callie… I… you need to tell someone. You can’t let him keep going around living his life.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Too much time has gone by and even the cops can’t do anything about it anymore.”

  “How do you know?”

  I shrug, feeling detached from the world. “Because I looked into it once to see—to know that I no longer have any options. What’s done is done.”

  He shakes his head, his jaw set tight. “This isn’t fair.”

  “Neither is your life,” I say, wanting my moment back. I want it back. Please, God, give me it back. ”Nothing really is.”

  Silence builds and it all crumbles out as I collapse into his chest, tears spilling out as the secret I’ve carried with me breaks into lighter pieces. He scoops me up against my protests and cradles me against him as he carries me up the stairs and into the room as I sob out every tear I’ve been holding inside me.

  He lies down on the bed with me and I bury my face into his chest. Somehow, I stop crying and we lie, unmoving, feeling each other’s pain. Eventually I fall asleep in his arms.

  Kayden

  After she falls asleep, I watch her breathe in and out, trying to make sense of the world. Rage washes through me like a fucking wave crashing against the shore. I want to kill Caleb. Beat him to death in the most painful ways.

  When I hear her brother and Caleb leave the house, laughing as they get in the car and drive away, talking about going to a party, something snaps inside me. All the rage I’ve channeled ruptures and suddenly I know what I have to do.

  Callie saved me that night from a fight that would have probably left me dead, but she also saved me from myself. Before her, I was dying inside; there was nothing in my heart, but an empty hole.

  Gently slipping my arm out from beneath her head, I grab my phone and sneak out the door, looking at her one last time before I leave. Trotting down the steps, I text Luke to come pick me up, then I start walking down the sidewalk away from her house toward the unknown.

  I walk a ways in a direction I’ve never been, letting the cold air consume me. About fifteen minutes later, Luke’s truck pulls up to the curb. I hop in, rubbing my hands together as the heater blasts against my skin.

  “Okay, what’s up with the totally random fucking message?” He adjusts his beanie lower on his head and cranks up the heater. “You do realize I was about to get lucky with Kelly Anallo?”

  “Sorry,” I mutter. “Where were you?”

  “Down at the lake.” He cranks the wheel to the right and drives down a side road. “There was a party going on.”

  “You didn’t happen to see Callie’s brother and Caleb Miller down there, did you?”

  He halts at a stop sign, cranking up the defroster as the windshield fogs up. “Yeah, they pulled up right as I left to come get you.”

  “Then drive down there.” I motion my hand for him to drive. “I have something I need to do.”

  We drive in silence as I bounce my knee and drum my fingers against the door. The truck bounces as we weave through the trees and surface out the other end. When we pull up, I spot Caleb by the bonfire near the shoreline, chatting it up with some blond chick wearing a baggy jacket over a tight pink dress.

  “I need your help with something,” I say as Luke shifts the car into park and starts
to get out of the car.

  He pauses with his leg outside. “What’s up? You’re acting kind of weird… it’s freaking me out a little.”

  I don’t take my eyes off Caleb. He’s shorter than me by an inch or two, but I remember him picking a few fights at parties and he can definitely hold up his own. “I need you to have my back.”

  Luke gapes at me as he puts a cigarette in his mouth. “Are you planning on picking a fight?”

  I nod unwaveringly. “I am.”

  “So you want me to make sure you don’t get your dumb ass kicked?” He cups his hand around his mouth and flicks the top of the lighter.

  “No, I want you to stop me before I kill him.” I flip the handle and hop out.

  “You what?” A puff of smoke rises in front of his face.

  “Stop me before I kill him,” I repeat and slam the door.

  He meets me around the front, flicking the end of his cigarette, sending ashes to the ground. “What is this about, man? You know I don’t do well in reckless situations.”

  I pause at the end of the line of cars. “If someone you… cared about a lot got hurt in the worst way possible by someone else, what would you do?”

  He shrugs, staring at the fire. “It depends on what it is?”

  “Something really bad,” I say. “And it scarred them for life.”

  He takes a slow drag off his cigarette and then turns his head toward me. “Alright, I got your back.”

  We hike over to the fire, the rage inside me burning as brightly as the flames. People are yelling, laughing, filling up beers from the kegger on a tailgate. There’s music bumping from one of the car stereos and a lively game of beer pong is going on by the lake.

  Daisy shows up in front of me with a huge grin on her face and a plastic cup in her hand. “Hey, party boy, I knew you’d show up.”

  I shake my head with annoyance and step to the side. “Get out of my way.”

  She’s taken back and presses her hand to her chest, like she’s a wounded deer. “What is wrong with you?”

  “He realized what a bitch you are,” Luke chimes in gladly and blows smoke in her face.

  “Oh my God. You’re such an asshole,” she says, fanning her hand in front of her face, looking at me expectantly to defend her.

  I wave her off, dodge around her, and march straight for Caleb. Weaving through the people, I step out into the open near the fire. When Caleb’s eyes meet mine, his expression falls, but he doesn’t budge. He knows what’s coming and he waits for it like he wants it.

  I step toward him and a smile curls at his lips as he starts to lurk toward me. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks. “And where’s pretty little Callie?”

  I sucker punch him in the jaw, which is where I make my mistake, but I can’t take it back. The crowd gasps and the girl in the pink dress drops her cup, spilling beer onto the dirt, and she skitters to the side.

  Caleb crumbles to the ground clutching onto his cheek. “What the fuck?” He stumbles to his feet, wiping away the blood dripping from his nose. “Who do you think you are?”

  I swing my fist at him again without an explanation, but this time he ducks and slams his fist into my side. My ribs pop, but it’s nothing compared to what I’m used to, and I rebound, bringing my knee to his gut.

  He coughs, hunching over as he spits blood on the ground. “You’re so fucking dead.”

  I pop my knuckles, shuffling forward to hit him again, but he jumps up and charges at me. With his head down, he rams into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me, and our shoes scuff against the dirt as we struggle to stay upright. Someone screams from the crowd and it’s followed by yells as we hit the dirt.

  I smash my fist into his face over and over again, seeing red, only red, like it’s been bottled up inside me for years. Someone tries to pull me off, but I shove them off repeatedly. I don’t know how much time lapses as I continue hitting him. Finally someone is able to get me off of him.

  I shake off their hand, thinking it’s Luke, but the red and blue lights flashing against the still water bring me back to reality as a police officer slaps handcuffs onto my wrists.

  “Don’t move,” a cop yells and I’m shoved forward, falling on my knees into the dirt.

  With my bloodstained hands behind me, I take in what I’ve done. Caleb’s still breathing, but his face is so engorged and bloody there are no features left. I’m not sure I care, though, because when it all comes down to it, Callie got her justice.

  ***

  Being in jail seemed better than going home and I refused to call my dad. In the end, one of the officers calls him, because of his highly respected status in the town. My dad’s always been big on the donations, which makes people automatically think he’s a great guy.

  Hours later, I’m in the kitchen of my house, sitting at the table. My mom went to pick up Tyler from the airport and had to take a cab, because neither of them will be sober enough to drive. It’s just my dad and I in the house. Something’s about to end, I just don’t know what.

  “This is fucking bull shit.” My dad circles around the table and kicks the bottom of the counter with his boot, putting a hole in the wood. “I get a call in the middle of the God damn night to bail your ass out of jail, for beating the shit out of someone.” He pauses, running his finger along a small cut below his eye that was caused by our fight. “You’re really on a roll today, you little shit.”

  “I was taught by the best,” I mutter, my ribs stinging, my arm throbbing, yet somehow, I feel more content than I ever have.

  He picks up a chair and throws it across the room into a shelf, breaking a vase. I don’t flinch. I just trace the cracks in the table with my thumb. “Where did I go wrong with you?” He stomps around the island that’s in the middle of the kitchen. “You’ve been a fuck up since you were two.”

  I stare at the wall, picturing Callie’s smile, the sound of her laugh, the softness of her skin.

  “Are you listening to me?” he shouts. “God dammit, Kayden, quit ignoring me!”

  I close my eyes, reliving how it felt to be inside her, touch her, kiss her all over her body, the smell of her hair.

  My dad’s hands slam down on the table and my eyes shoot open. “Get up.”

  I shove away from the table, knocking the chair to the floor. I’m ready for it. As he bends his elbow back over his shoulder, swinging his fist forward, I curve mine up and slam it into his jaw. The pain stuns us both as our fists connect with each other’s faces. There’s a pause, where he really looks at me, like he’s seeing me for the first time, before he seizes me by the shoulders and throws me against the wall.

  “Knock it off, you little shit!” He knees me in the side and I hammer my knuckles into his cheek in retaliation.

  Again, he’s shocked and it takes him a moment to recuperate. All I think about is how afraid he looks, the lack of confidence in his eyes, and the unsteadiness of his posture.

  He grabs onto my shirt, desperate to gain control as he pushes his hand against my face, shoving me back against the cupboard. Digging my fingernails into the palms of my hands, I curve my fist upward and strike him in the side of the head, hard. He lets out a grunt as he shoves me back and I crash against the counter, banging my hip against the tile and knocking knives to the floor. I start to move forward, but he runs at me with his head down. I speed up, bending my knees to hop over the island, but he catches the bottom of my shirt and jerks me down to the floor. I fling my arm behind me, reaching for him, but he ducks down.

  I feel numb. Completely dead inside as I spin around on my heels and shove my hands against his chest. He refuses to let go of me, even when he trips to the floor, and he yanks me down with him. I try to roll on top of him, but seconds later I feel something sharp pierce through my side and everything stops.

  My dad rises to his feet, holding a blood-soaked knife. “Why can’t you ever listen?” He drops the knife onto the floor beside my feet and it clanks against the tile. His face is a
s white as a ghost as he backs away. “You fucking…” He drags his fingers down his face, before he takes off for the front door, leaving it ajar behind him and cold air gusts in.

  Every part of my body aches, like a thousand knives have been stabbed into me instead of one. Pivoting to the side, I crawl up, and lean against the counter, moving my hand away from my side. Blood coats my trembling fingers and leaks out of the hole in my shirt, filling the cracks in the tile floor below me. I shut my eyes as I fight to breathe, but the pain is winning.

  I think about Callie, what she’s doing, what she’ll do when she hears about what happened. It hurts, even though it’s not supposed to; the thought of me leaving her, of her leaving me, of never having her again. I can’t hold it in.