Tale of Life (Essence Series #2)

by Todd, E. L.

  “Then you made the right decision.”

  Calloway shoved the notifications in his backpack then approached the front door. “I’ll see you later, Mr. Avey.”

  “And I you.”

  When Calloway reached the parking lot, he climbed into the backseat of Easton’s car and they drove to Weston’s petite house across town. He hadn’t been there since the New Year’s Eve party when he walked the desolate streets alone, ending up in front of her house. He still couldn’t recall how he got there. That was months ago.

  Weston would refuse to attend the dance with him and Calloway wouldn’t blame her. They hadn’t seen each other in so long that it might be incredibly awkward. Their chemistry could be nonexistent and their friendship might be stale. Most of all, he didn’t want her to come with him out of pity—only if she wanted to.

  When they reached the front of the house, Calloway felt his heart race in his chest. They climbed out of the car and approached the entrance. Calloway lingered in the back while Easton knocked on the door. He stared at the elegant house just a few feet away.

  “Hey,” Weston said when she opened the door. “What are you three doing here?”

  “Can we talk to you for a moment?” Easton asked.

  Weston’s face turned serious, in full warrior mode. “Is everything okay?”

  “Of course,” Easton said. “We just wanted to ask you something.”

  Weston opened the door wider. “Then come inside.” She smiled.

  They walked into her house, which was dimly lit with candles, and entered the parlor that smelled like apple pie.

  “Did your electricity go out?” Breccan asked.

  “No,” she said. “I just like candles.”

  Calloway appraised the flickering flames in the room and noted the calm feel of the house. He felt the depression wash away as soon as he entered, replaced with calm serenity.

  “Would you guys like some pie?” Weston asked.

  “I was wondering when you were going to ask,” Breccan said.

  Easton rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you would have brought it up eventually.”

  Weston walked into the kitchen and left them standing in the living room. Easton and Breccan started to argue again, practically shouting, so Calloway followed Weston through the door, wanting to avoid their confrontation, and stood at the counter directly across from Weston.

  “Hey,” he said. “Do you need any help?”

  “No.” She smiled. “But thank you. I’ve become a professional at this. Just ask my sister—I make the best pie.”

  “What’s your secret?” he asked.

  Her eyes twinkled. “A woman never reveals her secret recipe, not even to her husband.”

  The joy on her face warmed his heart, thawing the frost that covered every inch of his body just a moment ago. He felt happy just talking to her. “And why is that?” He smiled.

  “Then he’ll find some other woman to make it for him,” Weston said. “It’s the secret to keeping a marriage healthy. If you serve him the right food, he’ll never leave you.”

  “Well, I know that’s true in Breccan’s case.” Calloway laughed. “He would marry his mother if he could.”

  Weston laughed uproariously. “She’s a wonderful cook. That’s why your uncle is so happy.”

  “I have a feeling there’s more to the story,” he said.

  Weston shrugged. “Possibly.”

  “I didn’t realize you loved cooking so much.”

  “I do.” She smiled. “Although I hate eating it—it just makes me fat.”

  Calloway shook his head. “You could never be fat. You are too strong and fit.”

  “Well, that’s true,” she said. “I hope you are right.”

  “I think so.” He smiled. “So, how are you?”

  “Well,” she said. “Just finishing the semester—trying to get by.”

  Calloway nodded. “I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

  “I hope so.” She grabbed a fork and took a bite right out of the pie, chewing it completely before she spoke. “And how are you?”

  “Fine,” he said sadly.

  Weston stared at him. “It doesn’t sound like you’re fine, Calloway.”

  Calloway knew he couldn’t hide anything from her. The two of them connected on a different, invisible level that no one else could see—only they could feel it. She seemed to read his emotions better than anyone—even Breccan and Easton. “I’m just going through a hard time.”

  Weston pushed a piece of pie toward him and handed him a fork. “Eating is the best medicine. That’s what I always say.”

  Calloway smiled. “Then Breccan would never have any problems.”

  Weston smiled at him. She leaned over the counter and Calloway was captivated by the sight of the blue orbs of her eyes. The brown hair that he adored fell over one shoulder and framed her face, making her look mysterious and alluring. She had a natural poise to her, like she could be a dancer because she moved her body in such an eye-catching way. He understood the look she was giving him. She didn’t need to speak her mind.

  “Beatrice broke up with me today.”

  Weston nodded. “Easton mentioned her—she didn’t like her much.”

  Calloway smiled. “And for good reason.”

  “What happened?”

  “She left me for that jerk—Hawk. Now they’re going to prom together. I bought a six hundred dollar suit yesterday, just for her, and then she dumped me the very next day—for him. I don’t get it.” He shoved a bite into his mouth. “This is really good, by the way.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. She stared at him for a moment. “It may seem hard but it will get easier. For what it’s worth, she’s a complete idiot.”

  “I know,” he said. “I don’t understand why she returns to a guy that treats her so poorly.”

  “That isn’t what I meant,” she said. “She’s stupid for leaving you at all—whether it was for another guy.”

  Calloway felt his cheeks blush. He kept his gaze downturned as he finished his pie. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t let her get you down, Calloway. She was obviously just an experiment.”

  “An experiment?”

  “You know, someone you gain experience with that will prepare you for the real thing—someone you really care about,” she answered. “You learned a lot during this relationship—it will help you for the next one.”

  “I’m not interested in another relationship.”

  “Well, you will be eventually.”

  Calloway shook his head. “I’m going to be a lifelong bachelor.”

  “It sounds lonely.”

  “Yes, it does.” He smiled. “Maybe that isn’t the best way to go.”

  Weston grabbed his hand. “You’ll find it.” She smiled. “Just give it time.”

  Calloway felt the electricity course through his body, just as it always did when she touched him, and his heart accelerated at the close contact. He rubbed her fingers with his own and felt innately comfortable with her. Even though they hadn’t spoken in several months, it felt like no time had passed—that they were never apart. He felt the melancholy descend when he remembered her distrust of him—not wanting to be associated with him. He wondered if she still felt that way.

  Weston pulled her hand away when Easton came into the kitchen.

  “Just shut up!” she snapped.

  “Don’t pick an argument with me if you aren’t going to listen to me,” Breccan said.

  “Stop talking!”

  “No,” he snapped. “I’m sick of hearing the food jokes. I like food—who cares?”

  “Can you go back in the living room?” Weston asked. “As interesting as this conversation is, Calloway and I both have no desire to listen to it.”

  “That makes three of us,” Easton said.

  Breccan glared at her.

  Easton grabbed a plate with a piece of pie and handed it to him. “Enjoy.”

  Calloway wondered if his cousin wo
uld eat it or not, but of course, he did.

  “This is really good,” Breccan said after the first bite.

  “I know.” Weston smiled.

  Her smile was infectious. Calloway caught it.

  “So why are you here?” Weston asked.

  Easton stood next to her sister. “Well, long story short, Calloway needs a date for prom. His girlfriend decided to be a selfish, stupid—”

  “Easton,” Calloway interrupted.

  “She can’t go, basically. We were hoping that you would be interested in attending.”

  Weston was quiet for a moment and Calloway knew what she was thinking; if she should spend any extra time with him in light of his unclear association with the Hara-Kirs. It was acceptable to see him every once in a while, like now, but he knew she wanted their time together to be limited. The thought made him sad.

  “I would love to go with you,” she said. “We had a lot of fun last time.”

  “You don’t have to, Weston,” Calloway said quietly. “This wasn’t my idea.”

  “I know I don’t have to do anything,” Weston said. “But I want to. We are going to make this ex-girlfriend very jealous.”

  Calloway smiled. “Thank you. And thank you for making an exception to our—predicament,” he said awkwardly.

  Weston nodded to him. “This doesn’t change anything,” she said quietly.

  “I know.”

  Easton sighed. “This is so stupid, Weston. You obviously trust Calloway because you allow him to spend time with me. Also, you wouldn’t be going to prom with him if you really thought he had a malicious intent, like killing innocent people. And most importantly, you would have killed him already. Stop this act!”

  Weston turned on her sister. “It doesn’t matter what I think,” she said. “If I accepted him into our society and spent an extended amount of time with him, I would lose my credibility because I should have reported everything I knew about him. This is the only way I can reduce the liability and protect Calloway at the same time.”

  Calloway saw the glimmer of hope. “So, you do trust me?”

  Weston was quiet for a moment. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Stop being political,” Easton snapped.

  “I have to be,” Weston said. “I’m the leader of the White Wing. I have hundreds of other people to think about.”

  Easton slammed her fist on the table. “You are being so—”

  “Stop it, Easton,” Calloway said, stopping her in mid-sentence. “I understand Weston’s decision completely. Please drop it.”

  Easton kept her hand pressed against the table for a moment before she pulled it away. She grabbed a fork and dug into her pie. “Whatever.”

  Calloway looked at his two friends. “Could you give us the room?”

  Easton stared at him. “Why?” she said. “What can’t you say in front of us?”

  “I want to speak to your sister in private,” he said quietly, trying to calm her with the solemn sound of his voice. He knew Easton meant well, that she was tired of people treating Calloway in a negative way.

  Easton and Breccan left the kitchen, leaving out the front entrance. The door closed a moment later and Calloway knew they were alone.

  Calloway walked behind the counter and stood in front of Weston, who was only a few inches shorter than him. He looked into her eyes for a moment. “My intent isn’t to start an argument or challenge your decision, but could you hear me out?”

  Weston tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay.”

  “We’ve been thinking about my father’s connection for a long time now and we’ve researched an explanation,” he said. “My father wasn’t working for the Hara-Kirs—but against them.”

  “And your proof?” she asked.

  Calloway couldn’t tell her about the note his father left, commanding him to protect the Kirin Book, and he couldn’t mention his ownership of the Grandiose Historian Library because it’s connection with the portal. And he definitely couldn’t mention that his father may still be alive. When he thought about it, he realized that he didn’t have proof—at all. “My father was killed because he worked against the Hara-Kirs and they think that I’m finishing his work because I carry the orb he stole—plus I look like him.”

  “What is your proof?” she repeated. Her eyes were wide with interest, hoping he had something to clear him of his involvement with the enemy. “You just have guesses. I can’t use this to defend you. I wish you had something more.”

  Calloway sighed. “Isn’t my heart enough?” he asked desperately. “You know me better than anyone, Weston—I can’t explain it. You would know if I was malicious or evil—you would have seen it from the beginning.” He grabbed her hand and placed it over his heart. “Please tell me that you believe me—I need to know you do.”

  “It doesn’t change anything,” she whispered.

  “I know,” he said. “And I completely understand your position, but I need to know how you feel. Please?”

  Weston ran her fingers through her hair and a strand fell across her face, lingering on her cheek. Calloway wanted to tuck it behind her ear but he controlled himself, bottling the feelings he had for her. She stared at him for a moment, saying nothing, and Calloway could see the internal struggle raging inside her. Trust was not something Weston gave without reason and she had every right to distrust him, but Calloway hoped she would look past the facts and see Calloway for who he was—a good person. Calloway would never betray her or their cause. He knew she realized that—he knew. “Of course I do, Calloway,” she whispered. “I do.”

  Prom

  Calloway returned the ridiculously expensive suit to the store, getting back the fortune he paid for it, and rented the same one he wore to formal, which looked identical to the suit Beatrice coerced him into purchasing. When he put in on he felt confident once again. The depression still squeezed his heart painfully, numbing him until he felt completely empty. He somehow felt worse than before he and Beatrice got together. It was so agonizing and such a waste of time, that Calloway regretted ever dating her. His first kiss had been a waste—he wished he could take it back.

  Hawk returned to torturing him, while Beatrice did nothing to intervene, and McDonald’s gift cards started to reappear on his disk, humiliating him in every class. But Calloway was too hurt and broken; he didn’t bother to retaliate. Every time a pencil was thrown at his head he didn’t flinch, and every time Hawk yelled at him he didn’t listen, concentrating on the sound of his broken heart, beating slowly.

  Now prom had arrived and he had no interest in going. He didn’t want to see Beatrice with Hawk, which he already witnessed every day. He didn’t want to pretend that he was happy when in reality he was dying on the inside, struck down with the weight of his grief. The past few months were joyful and full of bliss, but now his days were filled with melancholy and pain. The betrayal made him question everything about his relationship with Beatrice—was any of it real?

  His friends never mocked him for it. In fact, they didn’t mention her, which he was thankful for, and they were supportive in every way. Without them, Calloway wasn’t sure what he would do. Weston’s words had made him feel better—that Beatrice was an idiot for leaving him. The only highlight of his evening was spending it with Weston, his favorite person in the world. Even though he had to bottle every feeling he had for her, wishing that she saw him more than just a friend, there was no one else he would rather go with. He knew she would never reciprocate his emotions, so he caged those feelings, locking them away and pushing them to the back of his mind. He hadn’t let himself think about her the past few months, trying to forget about her and the way she made him feel. Calloway constantly reminded himself of the facts. Even if she trusted him, and he wasn’t younger than her, she still wouldn’t be interested in him. It was just a dream—nothing more.

  Calloway stared at the mirror for a long time until the doorbell rang. He fixed his hair one more time and straightened his suit before h
e walked downstairs and reached the parlor. Breccan was already standing there with the corsage held in his hand, waiting for Easton, his date, to walk through the door. Calloway sincerely hoped Breccan would get it right this time.

  When Weston walked through the door, he wasn’t ready to take in her astounding appearance. He tried to appear calm and indifferent but his attempts failed miserably. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He felt his jaw drop at the sight of her and his hands start to sweat. The corsage almost slipped from his fingers.

  The deep purple gown she wore reached down to her thighs, exposing her tan, thin legs, and the dress stopped at her chest, revealing her slender arms and rounded shoulders. The brown locks were pulled from her face in an up-do, revealing the slender curves of her neck. Calloway thought she looked beautiful in jeans and a plain shirt, even in a gorilla costume, but she looked extraordinary now—perfect. A gold chain hung around her neck with a circular pendant, marked with an anchor, and it highlighted the color of her flawless skin. Calloway’s mouth went dry when he looked at her—he was speechless. There were no words to describe how she looked.

  Weston stopped when she reached him. “So, do you like it?” she said as she spun in a circle, smiling like a ballerina.

  Calloway cleared his throat. “You look—marvelous,” he said. “A more beautiful sight I’ve never seen.”

  Weston smiled at him. “Thank you. And you look very handsome, Calloway. That suit looks exceptional on you.”

  “Even though it’s rented?” He smiled.

  “It looks even better.”

  Calloway slipped the corsage onto her wrist and felt the smooth skin under his fingers. It was soft like the flesh of a ripe fruit, vibrant and plush, and his hands lingered on her arm for a moment before he released his hold. The electricity that coursed through his body made him shiver involuntarily. He wondered if she felt it, too.

  When Easton walked through the door, Calloway turned toward her and smiled. She wore a yellow dress, bright like the sun, and it contrasted against her skin perfectly. Her hair had been styled in curls and it fell around her shoulders in a luscious bounce. She looked beautiful like her sister, elegant and graceful, and Calloway noticed her immediately. Breccan stepped toward her and everyone held their breath, including Aunt Grace and Uncle Scott, wondering what he would say next.