by T. Jones
"Guess he figured he didn't want to wear that coffee. I don't know."
*****
Callie went back to school after New Year's, parking her new car near the back of the lot. As she got out of her car and wrapped her coat tighter around her, she glanced at the old pickup truck that had pulled in beside her. The occupant was wearing a cowboy hat and she noticed the license plates on the beater said Texas. As a rule, Callie avoided contact with her classmates, especially the guys, but she was intrigued. She guessed the young man that unfolded himself from the truck to be her age or maybe a year younger, and probably a foot taller than her. He slammed the driver's door, then went around to the passenger side, limping slightly, and grabbed something from the seat. He tossed his cowboy hat in the pickup. Without his hat, Callie could see his hair was red. Really it was orange, almost the color of the squash her mother had made for Christmas. She was sure it hadn't seen a comb in a week. Callie wondered about his nose. It wandered down his long face, twisting and turning so severely that she knew it had to have been broken more than once. He glanced at Callie for a moment and she realized that whatever calamity had befallen his nose, had disfigured his left eye and cheekbone as well. He was about as unattractive a guy as Callie had ever seen, and she thought again of that rescue dog.
When people first saw Callie, they invariably took a second, longer look. She had grown accustomed to it, even expected it. Men were almost always guilty of it, and most women as well. Perhaps it was the fact that he didn't, that intrigued her even more. She watched him tuck several books under his arm and start to walk toward the school. He slipped on the ice and nearly fell as she hurried to catch up to him. She couldn't remember ever starting a conversation with a stranger, but she did now.
"Hey Chester, those stupid cowboy boots are going to throw you harder than a rodeo bull." He turned for a second, frowned at her, then put his head down and kept walking. "Jesus, Cowboy, I was just giving you shit, don't get pissed." She caught up to him just as he nearly fell again and grabbed him by an elbow, helping him get his footing. "Are you new to these parts, Cowboy?"
"My name's Travis, not Chester, and I wouldn't get on a damn bull if my life depended on it. And yeah, I moved here with my Dad, we bought the Olsen farm and had to take over right away. I'm not a stupid cowboy so stop calling me one. Not everybody from Texas is a damn cowboy. Why are you even talking to me?"
"Holy shit Chester, you've got a really poor attitude. It isn't very often I bother being nice, so you should appreciate it. Just ask any of these other dicks around here, I'm generally a huge bitch. If you don't want to talk to me, fine. Go ahead and fall on your ass for all I care." Travis smiled at her slightly and started limping toward the school again.
"Okay, I'm sorry. But I don't want to live in this God forsaken cold place, or finish school here. It looks like I have to do both, but I'm not happy about it. Can you show me where the office is, and could you please not call me Chester?"
"Sure, I'll show you where the office is, but you’re a Chester if I've ever seen one. If we're going to hang out, it's going to be Chester."
"So now we're hanging out?"
"If you don't piss me off right away. Most people do, but none of them are cowboys." Callie headed to her first class and pointed Travis in the direction of the administration office. She watched him limp away, smiling at him and at herself. She couldn't remember ever liking someone instantly before, and a guy at that. Travis stumbled into her second period Trig class and fell into a seat beside her, grinning at her when she made fun of his cowboy boots again.
By the end of two weeks they were the talk of the school. The carrot top, dopey looking Texan and the hottest girl in the senior class that none of the local boys had managed to get into bed. Callie didn't feel any need to deny it. If everyone thought she was banging the new kid, they were less likely to suspect the truth. Abby called him her beard, and wasn't the least bit jealous, which was a relief. She was still pushing to make their relationship into something more romantic, but Callie pushed back, trying to keep it simple. The time was coming when Abby's husband would be back, and Callie thought that would be the end of them. She had thought all along that it would be a good time to end things, but more and more she was having doubts. She enjoyed having Abby's beautiful, warm body next to her, and knew she didn't want the sex to stop. Travis seemed like a good distraction, he was funny and smarter than he looked. She hoped he wasn't too smart. She didn't want him figuring out that she was gay. Jenny asked about him.
"Callie, what about that other guy you were seeing for a while. Travis is nice, but he doesn't seem like he'd be your type. He's really kind of homely, if you ask me."
"Yeah, I dumped Alan's sorry ass a while ago, he was screwing around on me." She lied. "Chester and I are just friends, Jen, there isn't anything going on. You know he got hit by a car when he was little, that’s why his face is all messed up and he limps. I know everybody thinks we're doing it, but we're not, and we're not going to be."
"Bullshit. He looks at you like you're steak dinner and he hasn't eaten for a month."
"He does not." Callie laughed. "We're just, kind of friends. I'm not his type anyway, he's a religious nut, like you. You know how much I love going to church."
"Callie, have you looked in a mirror? You're everybody's type. God wishes she had an ass like yours." Callie snickered and blushed a little.
"Aw Jen, are you flirting with me?" The redhead winked at her and smiled suggestively.
"You'll find out Friday night, you're still staying over, right?" Callie nodded, frowning a little as the girl walked away. Jenny said things like that a lot, and Callie was still tempted to take a chance and go for it. It was possible a goodnight kiss on the lips could turn into something more, if she pushed. She found it odd that Jenny wanted her to sleep over as much as she did. It didn't seem like something most seniors in high school did, and the double bed just wasn't that big. She wondered sometimes if it wasn't just her fantasy, if possibly Jenny also wanted something to happen between them. She found herself thinking about making love to the red-haired girl more and more, knowing that if she tried, there would be no going back. But still, Jenny was always telling her how much in love she and Greg were. She was straight, and would probably marry the putz. Callie stood at her locker, lost in thought, until Travis bumped her shoulder.
"Hey, how about a movie Saturday night?" He said it casually, but she caught the edge in his voice, the slight nervousness.
"Can't, sorry. Hey Chester, maybe we should talk."
"Oh shit, that's something a guy always wants to hear."
"You know I like you, but I'm heading to the Cities right after high school, and I don't plan to have to go through some breakup shit when I do. We can just stay friends, right? I only have two, and that's counting you. I'd really miss you if you go all psycho boyfriend on me now. I know, I'm an asshole, but can't we just hang out like we have been?"
"Wow! That's some ego you've got there. I just said let's go to a movie, I didn't drop down on one knee. It's cool if you just want to just hang out. The guys already think I'm banging you. You knew that, right?"
"Men are all assholes. Let them think what they want, I couldn't care less."
"Okay, then my story is I'm giving it to you every night. I'll be the biggest stud in school." Callie laughed at him, knowing that he wasn't as happy as he sounded.
*****
Callie hadn't been dreaming as much in the last month. She had the normal amount of nonsense dreams that she was sure everyone had, but not the intensely real, vivid dreams that seemed to be her subconscious trying to tell her something. She tried to figure out what they meant, if anything. She'd had three dreams that repeated themselves frequently, and they were always the most intense, sometimes terrifying. The dreams about Jenny and her fighting with Greg seemed obvious, her subconscious was telling her she should be the one making love to Jen, not that arrogant high school jock. The dream about the black-haired wom
an in the city street was a bit of a mystery, but that could just be her excitement about moving to Minneapolis eventually, and finding a girlfriend. The dream about the desert, with the hot sun and the huge leaning rock, scared her the most. After the night at Abby's house the dream had returned, not as terrifying, but still very intense. She had gotten up more than once in the middle of the night, sweat drenched, as if she had been in that desert, and touched up the painting of the scene. It still seemed incomplete. She was glad the dreams had stopped, but she guessed it was temporary.
It occurred to her that her life had changed a lot in the last couple of months. She had gone from hiding away in her bedroom every night, having no true friends and a sex life that revolved around her Dell, to where she was now. Callie could admit to herself that she had become a little obsessed with the idea of sex, which could happen when you weren't having it. The idea that love should come first, hadn't occurred to her. Her time with Abby was a definite upgrade from the days of Lara Croft fantasies, and they shared a certain amount of intimacy, but she wasn't in love with the woman. If anyone was going to elicit that emotion from her, she knew it would be Jenny. She felt perplexed by her sudden revelation, that the empty headed little twit, someone she had always considered an intellectual inferior, and someone to be used and manipulated, had suddenly taken on such an importance to her. She smiled, thinking about how she looked forward to picking her up every morning for school, wondering what she would be wearing to cover that perfect body of hers, and what new burst of optimistic drivel would fall from those pretty lips. Maybe really caring about Jenny had opened her up a little, just enough to let Travis in.
She had fallen hard for the floppy haired Texan, in the only way she ever could, as a good friend. The thought of sex with a man repulsed her, and she dreaded the time when he would see that. He was so different from her in so many ways. Once the misery of his move from Texas had passed, Callie started thinking how much he was like Jenny. He was always happy and smiling, quick to pick on her with a joke when she was in an ugly mood, something Jenny was beginning to do as well. He shared Jenny's belief that there was some ultimate plan that steered all their lives, but unlike Jenny he was willing to argue with Callie about it. Nothing he said ever changed her mind, but the arguments were fun for her because he was quick and sarcastic. She never understood how he, or anyone could believe that the world was guided somehow, when you only had to look around a little to see dickheads getting away with murder, literally. Or people acting like Greg Johnson did to Jenny, and getting away with that.
The one flaw in Jenny's otherwise perpetual happiness, was always Greg Johnson. He constantly berated her and spent only the time needed with her, to get her into bed. Callie had never liked him and grew to despise him as she began to care more for Jenny. When Callie spent time with Jenny, it meant that Greg couldn't, so she often went to the redhead's house in the evening to watch television. Between Jenny, Travis, and Abby, her newfound social calendar was pretty full. She still did her best to spend her Saturday nights alone, painting, but it happened less and less frequently.
Travis seemed to give up on any romantic ideas he may have had, but Callie still indulged him by seeing an occasional movie. She hoped their classmates would think they were still an item. They met at the school library in the afternoons sometimes to study. It turned out the cowboy was an honors student and had college plans of his own, plans to go to a private college in Saint Paul. Like Callie, his father wasn't happy about it. There was a bit of mystery as to why they had moved suddenly, why he wouldn't return to Texas for college, and about why his mother hadn't moved with them. Travis avoided talking about it, so Callie didn't press him. He had an agreement with his father, that if college didn't work out, he would return to help run the family farm. Like Callie, college was his way out of their small town, and that meant getting good grades. They spent a couple late afternoons each week studying. Callie had always done well in math, but Travis had an understanding of Calculus that went well over her head.
March arrived and winter began its slow march northward, taking the snow along with it. Abby had grown more insistent that she spend time with her. Callie knew it was because her husband was due back at the end of the month, and tried to be sympathetic, but it was something she wasn't good at. When Abby told her that she had fallen in love with her, Callie didn't know what to say. She knew she didn't feel the same way. Not for Abby at least. Abby was smart and beautiful and they had done every intimate thing imaginable together, but Callie just couldn't bring herself to say it back. She lied and said that she might at some point, because she didn't want to fight, and the older woman needed it. She didn't bother feeling guilty. She had made it clear from the start, they both were lonely and Callie would leave in the fall. But the sex was good with Abby, the woman was very good at pleasing her, and Callie didn't want that to stop. She hinted as much, as the end of March approached, and with it, the return of Davis Cooper.
"What do you think you're going to do when Davis comes back, Abby? Are we done? We talked about that, I know, but I'm going to miss this."
"Say the word Callie and he and I are over. I told you how I feel about you, that I love you. Say the word and it's done. You don't have to be in love with me right now Callie, that will come, I know it will. I don't even know if I could be with a man again, after this."
"Abby, I'm a senior in high school. You know I care about you, but I'm too young to be with you like that, and I'm going to the Cities for college, what then?"
"I could get a job there, get a place, and we could be together."
"Abby, like I said I'm not ready for that." The teachers face hardened a little, so Callie lied to her. "I just need time, like you said, love takes a while, at least when you're a cold bitch like I am." Abby sighed and Callie was afraid she was going to cry. Instead, she smiled mischievously and pulled the blankets over their heads. After, wrapped in her teacher's arms, Callie wondered why she thought it was a good idea to stop things with Abby. They were too good together for it to stop. Hopefully, Davis Cooper didn't want his wife back. Maybe things could stay the way they were until Callie went off to college. And it was only three hours away. It was possible she had overestimated the number of available lesbians in the Twin Cities. Maybe she needed to keep her options open with her beautiful teacher.
Chapter 5
Sunday evening as she worked on a painting, Callie's phone rang. She knew it was Jenny from the caller id, but all she could hear on the line, were choking and gasping sounds. "Jenny!" She yelled into her phone, "What happened? Are you hurt, did something happen to your Mom, what's going on, try to talk Honey."
"Callie," The redhead wailed. "Can you come over, I really need you!" Then she continued with the incoherent choking sobs that Callie had first heard. "Jenny, calm down, it's going to be all right, I'll be there in a few minutes." Callie put her paints away and threw on jeans and a sweatshirt. Late March in Minnesota was never predictable, but it was fairly warm outside, and most of the snow was disappearing. She ran down the stairs and told her parents that Jenny was having some sort of a crisis, grabbed a coat, and headed out the door. The days were getting longer, but the sun had just disappeared behind the trees. It was nearly dark as Callie backed into the street and put her foot down hard, speeding across town.
Callie glanced at her phone as it flashed a text from Jenny asking her to hurry. She knew she was already speeding and didn't plan on getting a ticket. It was obvious that no one was injured or dying, or Jenny would have just called an ambulance. Callie suspected that the redhead had some sort of drama going on with her boyfriend. She wasn't about to kill herself, rushing across town over some teen angst, but as she turned off the main drag and into the tree lined side street, she knew she was still going too fast. The roads were dry for the most part, but the remnants of melting snow were piled at the end of driveways, and alongside the sidewalks. As she neared Jenny's street, she took the corner fast and cut too close to the curb. S
he saw the quick flash of a small animal as it dashed from behind a snow pile, directly under her Camry. She took a quick breath, hoping that somehow it could make it between the tires of her speeding car, but she felt the telltale bump and slammed on her brakes, swearing.
From the color, she knew that it wasn't a squirrel. That would have been bad enough for a person who cared more for small animals than most people, but she guessed that she had just flattened someone's cat. She jumped out of the car, slammed the door and walked back to where the animal lay in the street. It was indeed a cat, a small Calico, mostly white with dark brown and orange spattered about its face and on one shoulder. From the odd angle, Callie knew that it's neck was broken and that it had died quickly, which wasn't a great consolation to her. She began to cry, a reaction that only made her angrier, since she knew that it wouldn't change the fact that someone's pet lay dead on the ground in front of her.
She bent down for a closer look, hoping that it was a stray, but saw that it had a collar. It was a cheap plastic collar, a light blue piece of plastic, covered with silver sparkles and splattered with a bit with blood. It had a small silver bell hanging from the buckle. It tinkled a little as Callie pushed against the cat with her foot, hoping that it was indeed dead, not just mortally wounded. She bent down and tried to gently slide her hands under the animal, thinking to put it onto the grass beside the road. She got both her hands under it, but then pulled them back quickly, recoiling back to her feet. Both her hands were covered in the bright red blood of the eviscerated animal.
"Shit, Jesus, fuck!" She ranted. She ran a few steps to the nearest snow bank and rubbed her hands quickly in the snow, tears flowing freely down her face. Then she walked back to her car, grabbed the box of Kleenex she had, and wiped her hands as best she could. She turned back to the cat, trying to breath normally. "Jenny, you better be half dead, or so help me I'm going to kill you." She stopped and screamed a loud obscenity, just once. The impulse seemed to help calm her, then she looked around at the neighborhood. She knew it was too early for anyone to be in bed, even in this town, but she didn't see lights on in any of the nearby houses. She bent down beside the cat and pulled at its blue collar, hoping for a tag that might identify the owner, but found nothing. The little bell jingled and she bit her lip, cursing the fact that someone would miss that sound, some small child or sweet little old lady.