by Todd, E. L.
“Are you done with your break?” Calloway asked.
“I had to get back to work.” She sighed. “It would be so convenient if this was just written in English.”
“The things that require the most work claim the greatest reward,” Calloway said.
“Are you Mr. Avey’s parrot?” Breccan asked.
“Shut up and eat your sandwich,” Calloway said.
The library door opened and they all turned to see the culprit. They were the only students in the entire student body that used the library. Calloway hadn’t seen anyone else in here since the first time he walked inside. When Calloway saw Beatrice walk into the room, he knew the day was getting weirder. He’d never seen her inside of a library before. She rarely went anywhere without her friends or Hawk. When Beatrice saw Calloway, she walked toward him.
“What the hell is happening?” Breccan asked. “First Hawk and now this?”
“What happened with Hawk?” Easton asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” Calloway said quickly.
Beatrice stopped when she reached their table. The binder that was covered in pictures was clutched to her chest. She was wearing a thick sweater and plain jeans that were tucked into her boots, and she had a golden bracelet around her wrist. Calloway stared at her and waited for her to speak. The silence stretched so long that Calloway wondered if she already said something and he didn’t catch it.
“Um, hi,” he said to her.
“Hello.” She shifted her weight and tightened her hold on the binder.
Calloway wasn’t sure what to do. She was so quiet and undecipherable. “How are you?”
“Well,” she said. “How are you?”
“Good,” he said. “Is there something that you need, Beatrice?”
“No,” she said as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Can I sit down?”
Calloway pulled the chair out for her and helped her into her seat. Her hair was pulled back and the strands ran down her back. It reminded Calloway of a string of golden silk.
“Hello,” she said to Breccan and Easton.
“Hi,” Easton said coldly.
“Yes,” Breccan said awkwardly. Easton turned and glared at him then covered her book with her notebook, hiding it from Beatrice’s view.
The awkward silence stretched for a long time and became more uncomfortable the longer Beatrice sat at the table. Calloway waited for her to address the reason why she was here but she remained silent.
“So, are you enjoying To Kill A Mockingbird?” Calloway asked. He knew it was a lame question but he didn’t know what else to say. It was his greatest fantasy to talk to Beatrice but now that it was happening, he didn’t know what to do.
“Well, I already read it and I really enjoyed it. I don’t mind reading it again.”
“Do you read as a hobby?” Calloway asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Other than taking photographs, it’s my favorite pastime.”
“It’s not shopping with your girlfriends or driving around in Hawk’s jeep?” Easton asked coldly.
Calloway glared at Easton then turned back to Beatrice. “Just ignore her—she’s just in a bad mood.”
“And I wonder why,” Easton said.
Calloway ignored her. “How were your holidays?”
“Good,” she said. “How were yours?”
“Great,” Calloway said. “The holidays went by too fast.”
“I’ve had enough of this,” Breccan said. “What’s going on? Why are you here, Beatrice?”
She shifted her weight and looked uncomfortable by the question. “I just wanted to have lunch with Calloway,” she said. She stared at him for a moment then glared at him. “If that’s okay with you, Your Highness.”
“Yes, it is,” Calloway answered before Breccan could speak. “You are welcome to sit with us.”
“Thank you,” she said. “What are you doing today after school?”
“I have to work,” Calloway answered. “You know, save the world one sandwich at a time.”
Beatrice laughed and Calloway was mesmerized by the sound. He never heard her laugh before. “You feed the hungry and the poor,” she said.
“Well, I don’t know about the poor part.” He laughed. “Those sandwiches are pretty expensive. The only reason why I eat them is because I work there.”
“Yes, they are pricey,” she said. “I like their food though. It’s my favorite sandwich place.”
“Of course it is,” Breccan said sarcastically.
Calloway took a deep breath and ignored his cousin. Beatrice reached into her backpack and withdrew a bag of cookies. She ate one then put the rest on the counter. “You are welcome to have some,” she said.
Breccan’s eyes widened as he stared at the chocolate chip cookies on the table. “Are those homemade?”
“Yes,” Beatrice said. “My grandma makes them—they are really good.”
Breccan grabbed the bag and ate one. Easton glared at him. “You are such a traitor.”
Calloway smiled at his cousin then turned back to Beatrice. “That was well played.”
“I didn’t realize your cousin was such a lover of cookies,” Beatrice said as she watched him shovel the food into his mouth.
“He isn’t,” Calloway said. “He’s a lover of food. He’ll eat the food right out of a homeless man’s hand.”
“Now you’re just lying,” Breccan said as he wiped his mouth.
Calloway turned back to Beatrice and shook his head. Beatrice laughed as she watched him. When the bell rang overhead, Breccan had eaten all the cookies in the bag—there were a dozen.
Beatrice smiled at him. “Did you like them?”
“Is your grandma a master baker?” Breccan asked.
“No.” Beatrice laughed. “She’s just a grandma.”
“I thought you liked my cookies,” Easton said to him.
“I do,” Breccan said. “But those were Christmas cookies. These are chocolate chip cookies.”
Easton shoved her belongings in her backpack then stormed away, leaving the library without a backward glance. Breccan watched her go with a confused expression. “What just happened?” He rose from his chair and followed her out the door.
“Are they an item?” Beatrice asked.
Calloway shrugged. “I don’t know what they are. Sometimes I think they might kill each other and other times they are sweetest couple in the world. I just stay out of it.”
Beatrice smiled. She stood from her chair and Calloway followed her to the exit. There was an awkward silence before she spoke. “Are you and that girl an item?”
Calloway raised an eyebrow. “Who are you referring to?” He was never with a girl on campus except Easton, and it was evident that they were just friends.
“The one you took to winter formal.”
“Oh,” he said. “No. She and I are just friends.” The classroom building was getting closer as they walked to their next class. For some reason, he didn’t like discussing Weston with Beatrice, or anyone for that matter. The thought always made him sad. When he thought about New Year’s Eve, he felt the bile rise in his throat and the anger spread through his body—it wasn’t a good color on him. “We went to the dance as friends.”
“Hawk thought she was your girlfriend.”
Calloway wasn’t sure if that was a question. It seemed like it was by the way Beatrice was staring at him. He already made it clear they were just friends and he wasn’t sure why he needed to repeat it. “Weston just said that so Hawk would stop teasing me. We were just pretending.”
Beatrice nodded. “Well, it worked. I know Hawk believed it as well as everyone else in school. She’s very pretty.”
Calloway didn’t know what to say. He thought that was obvious. She stole the hearts of every man, bird, and creature that she passed, enticing them with her physical appearance as well as her witty charm and beautiful smile. Calloway wished he would stop thinking about her in this way. He was just letting himself get h
urt—over and over. “What’s your next class?”
“Economics,” she said.
“That’s not my favorite course,” Calloway said. “I prefer English and photography.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Photography?”
“I actually really enjoy the art. If Hawk wasn’t in that class, it would probably be my favorite period.”
Beatrice looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry, Calloway. If it weren’t for me, this wouldn’t be happening to you. Hawk is a complete jerk and I never should have dated him. I apologize for letting you endure this.”
Calloway nodded. “It’s okay, Beatrice. Let’s just forget about it.” Her verbal regret of dating Hawk implied they were no longer together. He felt his heart race when he thought of the possibility. “Are you still together?”
“No,” she said. “I broke up with him.”
Calloway tried to hide the smile on his face but he was failing miserably. The lines around his mouth formed a half grimace as both emotions tried to take dominance. A passing student stared at him for a moment with a confused expression then dodged out of the way, frightened of Calloway’s odd features. Calloway wasn’t sure what this meant. Now that she wasn’t with Hawk anymore, she was talking to him. Did that mean something? “I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “You deserve someone better, Beatrice. I have no doubt you’ll find him.”
“I hope so.” She smiled. She stopped when she reached her classroom. The other students were lined up outside the room waiting for the teacher to unlock the door. “Thanks for letting me spend lunch with you.”
Calloway smiled at her—a normal smile. “You’re always welcome,” he said. “I apologize on behalf of my friends. They’ll come around.”
She nodded. “It’s okay, Calloway. I don’t blame them for acting this way. I wish I had friends that would do that for me.” Beatrice waved goodbye and walked into her classroom. Calloway watched her go and stared at the blonde hair that trailed behind her back. After a moment of staring, he walked away and headed to his next class.
Calloway couldn’t remember what was said in any of his classes. All he thought about was his lunch date with Beatrice. He’d never had a conversation with her and now they spent an entire period together. The ease of their conversation really surprised him. She wasn’t pretentious or snobbish like he assumed she was—she was just a conformist. Now that she apologized for what she did and ended her relationship with Hawk, he felt immensely better. Even though the memories of last semester still plagued his heart, he couldn’t hold her accountable any longer. His initial impression of her was right—she was a good person that just made bad decisions. The fact that Calloway had stolen Hawk’s girl made him even happier, and it reminded him of what Mr. Avey had said—he was the better man. He wanted to enjoy his unbridled bliss but he knew his friends would bring him down with the facts of reality. Calloway couldn’t forget about all the wrongs that Beatrice committed, and they would never approve of her. And did he really want to date someone who had any interest in Hawk to begin with?
When he stepped into his photography class, he was surprised to see Hawk leaning back in his seat with a forlorn expression on his face. He was extremely docile and quiet. He ignored Calloway completely. When Calloway sat down next to Breccan, he felt his body relax and his heart slow. It was the first time that Hawk didn’t tease him mercilessly, and the other students in the class kept glancing over at them, waiting for the storm that was coming, but it never happened. Calloway assumed Hawk was too depressed that Beatrice dumped him to tease Calloway. It made him wonder if Hawk knew about their lunch meeting. Would the insults be worse once he found out or would he be embarrassed?
When the school bell rang, Calloway walked out of the class with his back straight and his shoulders squared. He never felt more at ease or confident after his photography class and he actually felt happy—elated.
“I can’t believe that happened,” Breccan said. “I could get used to this.”
“Don’t jinx it.” Calloway smiled. “I want it to stay this way.”
“Why was Hawk so quiet today?” Breccan wondered. “He acts like you don’t exist.”
“I think Beatrice said something to him,” Calloway said.
“Did she say that?” Breccan asked. They walked across campus to the parking lot where Easton was meeting them. Breccan had a cookie crumb in the corner of his mouth but Calloway decided not to say anything—he would probably just eat it.
“No, but I can’t think of any other reason,” Calloway said. “Or he is so depressed that Beatrice broke up with them that he doesn’t have the heart to harass me.”
“She broke up with him?” Breccan asked incredulously.
“Yes.” Calloway smiled. “They are done.”
“Good,” he said. “That girl finally got a brain.”
Calloway nodded. “I told you she just made a bad decision—she’s a good person.”
“Don’t get any ideas,” Breccan said. “Just because she broke up with Hawk doesn’t mean it vindicates her crimes for the past few months. And you better not go for her.”
“Why not?” Calloway asked.
“She isn’t right for you—that’s why,” Breccan said. “I thought that would be obvious.”
“We get along great,” Calloway said. “She’s really cool.”
Breccan shook his head. “Just because she had lunch with you doesn’t mean she’s interested. She’s probably just trying to make up for what she did. Don’t assume anything.”
Calloway sighed. “Thanks for ruining my day.”
“I have to tell you the truth,” Breccan said. “I wouldn’t want you to make an idiot out of yourself.”
“So you don’t think she likes me?” Calloway asked.
“No,” Breccan said. “You aren’t her type.”
“And what type is that?”
“Rich,” he said.
When they reached the parking lot, they saw Easton standing next to her car, waiting for them, but they stopped when they heard the yells and screams nearby. Hawk was getting into a small car while a woman in the driver’s seat yelled at him loudly, attracting the attention of everyone around them. She was wearing dirty pajamas and her hair was in a messy, oily bun.
“Don’t you ever keep me waiting again, you brat,” she yelled. “Otherwise you can just walk home!” She glared at him as he shoved his backpack into the backseat. “Come on! Let’s go! The Young and the Restless is coming on.”
When Hawk opened the door he saw Calloway and Breccan staring at him. He ignored them and sat in the front seat. His mother drove them out of the parking lot, yelling at him the whole way. They could hear every word through the open window from the driver’s seat. Calloway and Breccan walked across the lot to Easton.
“That was quite a show,” she said. “What happened to his jeep?”
Calloway shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“He probably lied about the whole thing,” Breccan said. “It probably belongs to his father. I haven’t seen him drive it to school once.”
Even though Aunt Grace drove a run-down car, Calloway never felt embarrassed when she picked him up from school. She never screamed at him like he was a nuisance in her life, and she always made him feel cherished. Perhaps Hawk had money but he definitely didn’t have any love—only sorrow.
Playing it Cool
Calloway looked at the clock and was delighted to see it was almost closing time. Business at the sandwich shop had been slow, with only a few families coming in for dinner along with a high school football team. Their last customer left two hours ago. They cleaned the walls and scrubbed all the dishes but the tasks were completed quickly, leaving them bored and unoccupied. Now they were waiting for the clock to reach nine o’ clock—the hour of their freedom.
“Has bird boy given you any more trouble?” Marquan asked. He counted the money in the drawer then closed it. The money in the register had been counted three times but there was nothing else
to do.
“Bird boy?” Calloway asked.
“Hawk.” Marquan laughed. “That’s what I call him—bird boy.”
“No, not really.” He laughed. He completely ignored me today, which I have no complaints about, and kept his distance. I hope it stays that way.”
“Let me know if it doesn’t,” Marquan said. “I have no problem paying the kid a visit.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Calloway smiled. “But thanks.”
“No problem,” Marquan said. He turned off the register and switched off the heater for the soups. The counters were so clean that you could see the reflection in the tile. The floors had already been swept and the chairs were stacked. Calloway wondered why their boss didn’t shorten the store hours—no one came in past eight.
Calloway leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you excited to start school again?”
Marquan stared him. “Is that a serious question?” He laughed. “Who wants to go back to school?”
Calloway shrugged. “College is better than high school,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind.”
“Well, being in the White Wing is time consuming. Plus, I have to work for a living. It’s nice to have some spare time for the little things in life—like sleeping and watching television.”
“I understand what you mean.” Calloway laughed. Studying the Hara-Kir in addition to his school studies was a hassle for him. Any possibility for a social life had been terminated when he started his job. “How do you get accepted into the White Wing?”
“It’s an arduous process,” he said. He leaned against the counter beside Calloway and stared at the television in the lobby. “Before you are offered an acceptance into the society you have to be interviewed and researched extensively—they want to know everything about you.”
“Why do they go through all that?” Calloway asked. “It seems like a lot of work.”
“We have to make sure that no one is a spy—that would be bad.”
“But if they look like humans—most of them—how do you really know?”