Tale of Life (Essence Series #2)

by Todd, E. L.

  “I like eating,” Calloway said. “Think of a place that you want to go.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  They arrived at their English class and he opened the door for her, letting her walk inside first. When Calloway walked past Mr. Avey’s desk, he locked eyes with his teacher and rolled his eyes, conveying his frustration about Beatrice. Mr. Avey laughed quietly and the students stared at him for a moment, unsure why he was chuckling.

  Calloway took his seat in the back and stared at Beatrice the entire time, trying to figure out what just transpired in the hallway. All he knew was that Beatrice’s strange behavior had something to do with Easton—but that was it. He had no idea what the conversation meant or what she wanted to know—women were complicated. Calloway was able to decipher the vague meanings of the Kirin Book with little effort but this was completely beyond his understanding.

  When his morning classes were finished, he jogged to the library during their lunch period, ignoring the glares of the students he passed, and sat directly across from Easton at their customary table.

  “Don’t you have somewhere more important to be?” she said coldly.

  “I need help,” said Calloway, still breathing heavily from his run to the building.

  “What?”

  “Beatrice is acting weird,” he said. “This morning she asked if you always take me to school and if we were friends like she and I are—or something like that. She seemed angry and disappointed. I don’t know what’s going on—at all. Please help me, Easton.”

  Easton sighed. “I shouldn’t help you.”

  “Please,” he said. “I don’t want to lose her.”

  Easton stared at him for a moment, internally deciding if she should help Calloway with his girl problems. She sighed before she spoke. “She’s threatened by me because you spend so much time with me.”

  Calloway stared at her blankly. “What?”

  “She thinks you like me,” she said.

  “Well, I do.”

  Easton shook her head. “She means in a romantic way.”

  “Why?” he asked. “Why would I be talking to her if I liked you?”

  Easton rolled her eyes. “I have no idea,” she said. “Some women are just stupid. Please don’t include me in the category.”

  “So that’s it?” Calloway asked. “She just thinks I like you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that solves everything,” he said happily. “I’ll just tell her I don’t.”

  Easton shook her head. “It’s never that easy. You have to prove it to her.”

  “What? How?” he asked incredulously. “I kiss her, don’t I?”

  “Tell her you find me annoying or something,” Easton said.

  “At least it’s true,” Breccan said. He opened his sandwich and tore off the crust then threw the pieces inside the bag.

  Calloway scratched his head. “But I don’t find you annoying.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Easton said. “Just say bad things about me. Believe me, it will help.”

  “But that doesn’t make sense,” Calloway said. “If I found you irritating I wouldn’t be friends with you.”

  Easton held up her hand. “Don’t try to understand it,” she said. “Women speak in a language that men haven’t understood throughout the entire span of civilization. Let me save you some time. Just do as I say.”

  The library door opened and Beatrice walked inside.

  “Showtime,” Breccan said. He took a bite of his sandwich. “I hope she has cookies.”

  Calloway rose from his seat and hugged her tightly, holding her to his chest like he never wanted to let go, and then kissed her on the cheek. The scowl on her face disappeared at his affection and the light reappeared in her eyes. Elated that he convinced her of his devotion, he broke their embrace and pulled out her chair for her, allowing her to sit down.

  “How were your classes?” he asked. He turned his body toward her, cutting of his view of his friends, and directed all of his attention on her alone, like there were was no one else in the room.

  Beatrice looked at Easton for a long moment before she met his gaze. “Fine,” she said.

  Calloway noticed that she used that word when she was upset, so he decided to take Easton’s advice. “Uh,” he stumbled. “Easton is really annoying and I can’t stand her.”

  Beatrice stared at him for a moment, still processing the insults he just said in Easton’s presence. Breccan covered his mouth and tried not to laugh, but a loud snort escaped his lips and echoed in the room. Easton just shook her head with a smile on her face.

  “Okay,” Beatrice said awkwardly.

  “And she smells weird,” Calloway added. “Totally can’t stand that girl.”

  Beatrice glanced at Easton then returned her gaze to Calloway.

  The awkward silence stretched for an eternity, and Calloway wasn’t sure if he took Easton’s advice correctly. Shouldn’t Beatrice be happy now? Beatrice just stared at Calloway. The sound of Breccan chewing his sandwich and Easton flipping the pages of her textbook filled the room and highlighted the silence.

  “Where did you want to go after school?” Calloway said finally.

  “How about that French Bistro on Main Street?” she asked.

  Calloway hadn’t anticipated a restaurant as a choice. He assumed they would grab lunch at a fast food place or a store—nothing fancy. He didn’t mind taking Beatrice out to a nice meal, but he didn’t want this to be a regular activity—he couldn’t afford it. But he was too embarrassed to admit that so he kept it to himself. “That sounds great.”

  She smiled. “Good.”

  Only the wrapper remained of Breccan’s eaten lunch. Breccan cleared his throat. “So, do you have any cookies today?”

  Beatrice smiled at him. “Actually, I do.” She pulled out a bag and tossed it on the table.

  “You don’t have to feed my cousin every day.” Calloway smiled. “I’ll like you either way.”

  Beatrice laughed. “I don’t mind,” she said. “They are just sitting at home. Besides, it makes my grandmother happy. She thinks I eat a dozen cookies every day.”

  Calloway laughed. “Your metabolism would be a record high.”

  “Yeah.” She smiled.

  Calloway grabbed her hand and held it under the table. He leaned closer to her and stared at her for a while, gazing at the thin lips that he wanted to kiss again. Breccan ate his cookies while he spoke to Easton, but Calloway ignored their conversation, focusing all his thoughts on the girl he adored since the beginning of high school.

  “You look beautiful today,” Calloway said.

  “Thank you.”

  Breccan wiped the crumbs from his mouth. “Did you see the notice for prom?” he asked.

  “No,” Calloway said without looking at him. “Where are they?”

  “On every inch of the school hallway,” he said. “You didn’t notice them?”

  “I guess I was looking at something else,” he said. Beatrice smiled at his comment.

  Breccan rolled his eyes. “My mom is going to make us go to this one, too.”

  Calloway sighed. “Why does your mom hate us?”

  “I don’t know.” He sighed. He turned to Easton with his mouth full of cookie. “So you are coming with me, right?”

  Easton shook her head. “No.”

  Breccan swallowed the dessert. “Why not?”

  “You’re a horrible date—that’s why,” Easton said. She kept her gaze focused on her math book. “I learned from my mistake.”

  Breccan sighed. “Don’t be annoying.”

  “Now you’re really convincing me,” she said sarcastically. “How can I resist an offer like that?”

  “If you don’t go with me, who are you going to take?” Breccan asked.

  “No one,” she replied. “I’m not going.”

  “That’s not fair,” Breccan whined.

  Calloway would need a date as well but had no one to ask. The obvious choice was
Beatrice, but he doubted she wanted to accompany him. They were still just friends and she may already have someone else in mind—someone rich. They sat together quietly and Calloway played with her fingers under the table.

  “Do you want to go?” Beatrice asked.

  Calloway tried to hide his look of surprise. He never expected Beatrice Reese to ask him to prom. “Are you asking me?” He smiled.

  “I guess,” she said. “I think you’re supposed to ask me.”

  Calloway nodded. “Beatrice, I would be honored if you would attend the prom with me. Will you?”

  Beatrice smiled. “I would love to.”

  “Good,” he said. “It will be fun. But I have to warn you—my aunt will take a lot of pictures.”

  Beatrice laughed. “That’s how moms are,” she said. “My parents are going to do the same thing.”

  Calloway felt his heart fall. This was a complication he hadn’t foreseen—meeting her parents. They probably lived in a mansion with a dozen butlers, some that cooked and others that just stood around, and Beatrice’s father continued to pay them just because he could. And Calloway didn’t even have a car. What would they think of him? He pushed the thought to the back of his mind—saving it for another day.

  “We should match,” Beatrice said. “I’m going to wear a pink dress so you should get a suit with a matching tie. Preferably Hugo Boss—my dad likes their suits.”

  Calloway knew they didn’t have designer suits at the rental store so he wasn’t sure what she was implying—that he should by a new suit?

  “We’ll look so cute,” she said happily. Her face lit up when she spoke about the dance and Calloway knew how excited she was for the evening.

  When he went to the winter formal with Weston they didn’t match. Weston didn’t seem concerned about wearing coordinated outfits and their appearance made no difference to Calloway. She could have worn a dinosaur costume and he wouldn’t have cared. Actually, he probably would have liked her even more. And if he dressed up as a stuffed hippopotamus she would have laughed hysterically, amused by the sight. Calloway dismissed the idea, knowing he shouldn’t compare the two women. “Do I need to buy a suit?”

  “You don’t own one already?” she asked incredulously.

  “No,” he said. “I rented a suit for the formal.”

  “We’ll go shopping and I’ll pick one out for you.”

  Calloway felt confused. “Can I just rent a suit again?”

  “You shouldn’t rent a suit—it’s tacky,” Beatrice said.

  “How would anyone know?” Easton snapped. “It’s not like people are going to ask him if owns the suit he’s wearing.”

  Calloway glared at Easton and raised his hand. “I can handle this.” He turned back to Beatrice. “I just prefer not to buy a suit because I can’t afford it.”

  “But you have a job,” she said harshly.

  “Yes, but I wanted to save the money for college—not spend it on a suit I’m never going to wear again.” The light in her eyes ignited in flames and he knew he made her angry. “I want this night to be perfect for you but I think a rented suit is just as good—I’ll show you.” Her eyes were still shinning in unspent rage. “I’m looking forward to seeing you in your dress—I’m sure you’ll look beautiful.”

  Her eyes dimmed at his words and she returned to calm. Calloway didn’t realize being in a relationship was going to be so difficult and stressful. He just wanted to be happy—not argue about money. He squeezed her hand under the table and felt her fingers brush over his skin. The lunch bell rang and ended the free period, severing the connection between their joined hands.

  Calloway walked Beatrice to her next class and saw Hawk standing outside the doorway. He was leaning against the wall right outside her classroom, watching them closely. There was no mistaking his intent—he was waiting for Beatrice. Calloway opened the door for her and chauffeured her inside to safety then turned away from the classroom and walked to his classroom on the other side of the building. He glared at Hawk as he passed him, giving him a stare of pure loathing and hatred, and Hawk gave him the same look. Calloway knew Hawk was wasting his time trying to talk to Beatrice—she wanted nothing to do with him.

  When he arrived at his photography class a few hours later, he still felt the tension from the previous fight he had with Beatrice. Even though she didn’t say it, he knew she was disappointed that he refused to buy a new suit for the prom. And even though he couldn’t afford it, she still seemed annoyed that he wouldn’t do as she asked.

  When Calloway walked outside with his camera, he saw Beatrice kneeling in front of a blue flower in the planter box. It was the only one that survived the winter chill and it stood tall, stretching toward the sun in defiance. It battled the freezing temperature of the season. Spring was approaching and the flower would find adequate warmth soon, allowing it to prosper and grow to full vitality. Calloway grabbed his camera and took a few pictures of Beatrice as she studied the flower. Her eyes were focused on capturing the natural beauty of the scene and Calloway was mesmerized by the sight. The dim light broke through the clouds in the sky and made her look more beautiful than he ever remembered. Sometimes he didn’t understand why she had any interest in him; he felt hideous compared to her. Not only was she beautiful, but she was smart and caring. Calloway felt like he was living in the shadow of her perfection. Most of the other students still considered Calloway to be the biggest loser on campus, and she was the first person to turn against that opinion and see Calloway for who he really was. And when she kissed him it sent chills through his body. In class, he daydreamed about kissing her and completely missed the lecture that his teacher taught. He was completely infatuated with Beatrice Reese.

  So, he wasn’t sure why she was jealous of Easton. Calloway thought Easton was beautiful like her sister, but not to the same degree or in the same way. He was confused why Beatrice would accuse him of having feelings for her. She had always been a friend to him—nothing more. And he was certain Easton never had feelings for him—that would be weird. So he wasn’t sure where Beatrice’s jealousy was coming from. It was obvious how much Calloway liked Beatrice—was she blind?

  When the period was over, Calloway walked with Beatrice and Breccan to the parking lot with Hawk trailing behind them the entire way. Calloway was aware of his presence and he never let him escape his peripheral vision, unsure of his intentions. He remained silent as he walked alongside Beatrice because he was concentrating on Hawk, anticipating an attack of some sort.

  They reached the parking lot and Breccan turned to Calloway. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

  “I’ll meet up with you guys in an hour,” Calloway said.

  “Whatever,” Breccan said over his shoulder. He walked to Easton’s car in the parking lot.

  “What are you guys doing?” Beatrice asked.

  Calloway was quiet for a moment. “Homework.” He hated lying to her but he knew he couldn’t tell her the truth—it would scare her off.

  Hawk was still standing a few feet away, waiting for Calloway to join his friends so he could speak to Beatrice alone. The sight made Calloway angry.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked.

  “Sure,” she said.

  When they reached her car, Calloway opened the front door and ushered her into the front seat. “I’ll be right back,” he said before he closed the door. He walked back to Hawk on the sidewalk. Hawk dropped his hands to his sides, ready for another attack, and he met Calloway’s gaze with hatred.

  Calloway stopped in front of him. “Beatrice doesn’t want to talk to you,” he hissed. “Leave her alone or I’ll make you leave her alone.”

  “Is that a threat, Poverty Boy #2?”

  “You tell me, Bird Boy,” he snapped.

  Hawk’s eyes narrowed. “What did you just call me?”

  “You should think of a better name—Hawk sounds ridiculous,” Calloway stepped back. “Leave her alone. You lost her when you cheated on her. Now she’s m
ine and I’m not stupid—I won’t mess this up.”

  “This is a free country,” he snapped. “I can talk to whoever I want.”

  “And you’ll do so with another bloody nose.”

  Hawk glared at him but said nothing more. Calloway turned away and headed back to the car. Beatrice looked at him when he came inside.

  “What did you say?”

  “Just a few pleasantries.” He smiled.

  She continued to stare at him. “What did he say?”

  “Nothing important,” he said. “I just told him to leave you alone. He follows you everywhere you go and I’m sick of it.”

  Beatrice started the car and left the parking lot. She drove down the street until she reached the small French restaurant she mentioned earlier. There were mounted pillars around the entrance and all the windows were spotless. Vases of beautiful flowers were placed around the outside, making it look like a European country land. Calloway knew it was expensive just by looking at the building. He was wearing his new jeans and a blue sweater, thankfully, but he still felt underdressed for the occasion. He didn’t even know what to order—he never went out.

  When they walked inside, the waiter ushered them to their seat by the window and he stared at Calloway for a long moment, clearly surprised that he was inside of the restaurant, and then walked away.

  Beatrice stared at the menu for a moment. “What are you going to get?”

  Calloway stared at the entrees and didn’t understand what most of it was. He couldn’t even read it. Didn’t they have pizza? “Uh, everything sounds good,” he lied.

  She smiled. “My family and I come here all the time.”

  The waiter returned to their table and brought two glasses of water. “Are you ready to order?” he asked.

  Calloway looked across the table and waited for Beatrice to order first.

  “I’ll have the Heirloom Tomato Sandwich,” she said.

  “Excellent choice, miss,” the waiter said. “And for you, sir?”

  Calloway glanced at the menu again. “Uh, I’ll have the number two.”

  The waiter stared at him for a moment. “Of course,” he said. “The number two.” He walked away and returned to the middle of the restaurant.