Meant To Be (The Callahans Book 4)

by Monica Murphy

  I bet she hasn’t. He hates that sweet little dog.

  Even if we wanted to have sex, there’s nowhere for us to go tonight either. I honestly don’t want to do it in the back of my car, or his. I really wish one of us had a SUV.

  “Hey.” Ellie nudges me with her elbow. “Your drink is ready. They just called your name.”

  “Oh.” I glance over at the counter. “You want me to grab yours too?”

  “Sure. I’ll keep watch over our stuff,” she says.

  You can’t leave your table unattended for too long at our local Starbucks. There aren’t many tables inside since it’s pretty small, so it’s a struggle to find one in the first place. And once you do have a table, a lot of people don’t want to let them go. They’ll sit there for hours, their drinks long gone and not giving a crap if someone else wants it.

  The after-school rush always brings lots of people through Starbucks and the majority of the other tables have students sitting at them. Once I grab our drinks, we dive into our homework, discussing the test we have coming up in our environmental science class when the door flies open and a gust of wind blows in.

  Cami and Baylee enter the building, and I swear to God, the entire place goes silent. All you can hear is the hiss of the espresso machines and the sweet folksy music still playing. Cami scans the room, I’m sure she’s looking for an audience, and when her gaze lands on me, the disgusted expression on her face makes her look downright evil.

  I lift my chin, mentally preparing myself for battle. I hear Ellie mutter “oh shit” but otherwise, she says nothing.

  I can’t blame her. I don’t expect her to rush to my defense or call Cami out on her shit. This is my fight.

  And everyone is watching.

  “Check it out, B. It’s not happy hour, it’s bitch hour at Starbucks,” Cami says gleefully, making Baylee laugh.

  That was a pitiful attempt at a so-called funny insult. I keep my expression impassive, steeling myself for the next slam she’ll throw my way.

  “What are you doing here?” Cami asks me, sending a withering stare in Ellie’s direction when she lifts her head.

  Ellie ducks back down, staring at her textbook.

  “What does it look like?” I toss back at her, already sick of her shit. I hold up my cup of coffee to clue her in.

  “You have a lot of nerve, showing your face around town when everyone knows what you did to me,” Cami says, taking a step closer to our table. I’m surprised she would. I was hoping she’d think I might hit her again.

  “Actually, it’s surprising that you’re the one who’s showing your face around town, considering everyone is congratulating me on putting you in your place,” I say coolly.

  Her cheeks immediately turn bright red and she casts her glare about the room. Everyone is blatantly watching us. Even the baristas behind the counter are paying attention to our little conversation. “Such bullshit,” she spits out.

  “It’s true. Just because you think you rule our school doesn’t mean people actually like you. No one does.” I grab my drink and take a sip from it, waiting for her reply.

  She gapes at me like a dying fish, opening and closing her mouth as if she’s trying to come up with something to say. She treats everyone like complete trash, yet expects us all to fall in line and actually like her? She’s delusional. The only one who seems to tolerate her is Baylee, and they’ve been extra chummy only recently. Oh, and then there are the occasional boyfriends Cami acquires.

  They never last long either. I’m sure there are already bets placed on how long she and Diego will be together.

  I don’t understand her. Worse, I don’t get why she acts the way she does. She can’t seem to keep friends for very long. I always find that a total red flag.

  “You’re never getting back on the cheer team,” she finally says.

  “Good.” I fix my gaze on hers. “I don’t want to deal with you anymore anyway.”

  “Same!” She glares at Baylee, who seems to snap to attention. “Let’s go.”

  “But I wanted a coffee,” Baylee whines.

  “We’ll go to the Starbucks in Vons,” Cami says, referring to the supermarket down the road. “Besides, there’s too much trash here.”

  With that, they turn around and walk out.

  My entire body seems to sag with relief once they’re gone. Everyone around us resumes their conversations too, as if those two never walked in here in the first place. “God, I hate her,” I tell Ellie.

  “I don’t know how you were able to stand up to her like that. She’s so intimidating,” Ellie says.

  “She’s a person, just like all of us.” Truthfully, I’m not sure where I got the courage to talk to Cami like that either. I feel pretty powerful right now, knowing that I drove her out of the Starbucks. Knowing that I gave just as good as I got—maybe even better.

  She can’t hurt me. I refuse to let her. Caving in to her demands gets a person nowhere. The only way she’ll back down is if you stand up to her, and even then, she’ll still fight to the bitter end.

  Well, so will I. I refuse to let her boss me around any longer. Being captain of the cheer team gives her an inflated sense of authority, and while I know Brandy does her best to control that, she doesn’t see and hear everything Cami does. I don’t know if I want to deal with her shitty attitude anymore.

  If quitting the cheer team in order to protect myself from Cami is the right thing to do, then I’ll do it. Though I’ll miss everyone else.

  Terribly.

  Twenty-Three

  Eli

  I’m headed to the locker room to change for practice when my phone rings. I answer without checking who it is, fully expecting to hear Ava’s sweet voice on the other end. We have plans after practice. I feel bad that she’s suspended from cheer, but we’re also going to take advantage of the situation. Spending more time with Ava is always my goal.

  But it’s not Ava who’s calling.

  “What’s up, little bro?”

  It’s Ryan.

  I come to a complete stop, leaning against the nearby fence. “I almost didn’t recognize your voice, it’s been so fuckin’ long since I’ve heard it.”

  Ryan blows out an irritated breath. Probably wasn’t the right thing to say to him at the very beginning of our conversation, but I give zero fucks right now. “Glad to hear your voice too.”

  “It’s been a long time,” I say, my voice tight. Hope he can tell that I’m mad at him.

  “I know. That’s all on me.”

  “Right.” I want to say more, but what? That I expect an apology. An explanation. Something so I can make sense of his complete abandonment of me and our parents. Maybe he’s chatting it up with our dad all the time, I don’t know, but it feels like once our parents split up, Ryan split up with us as well. Took off, never to be heard from again.

  “I hear you guys are doing good this season,” he says, trying to get me where it used to matter the most.

  Football.

  “Where’d you hear that?” I ask, fully prepared for him to say Dad told him.

  “I check up on you guys. There’s this thing called the internet. You’ve heard of it, right?” he asks with a low chuckle.

  Relief trickles through me. I’d be super pissed to find out Ryan and Dad were still in constant contact. It’s been a secret fear of mine. Dad acts like he barely has time for me. If it was because he’s spending it with Ryan, I’d feel like absolute shit.

  I know I’m a disappointment to Dad already. I feel like we all are.

  “We’ve had a good season,” I say, my voice tight. “Still didn’t beat those damn Badgers, though.”

  Ryan laughs. “Hate those fuckers.”

  “Same, though I’m actually dating one.”

  His laughter dies. “What do you mean?”

  “My girlfriend goes to their school. She’s on their cheer team,” I explain.

  “Get the hell out of here.”

  “I’m serious. Ava’s gorge
ous. Sweet as hell.” And all mine. “You’d know this if you’d come around sometime.” I’m all about the verbal jabs right now. Ryan deserves every single one of them.

  “Yeah, about that.” He pauses for only a moment, but it feels like it drags on forever. I say nothing to fill the silence. This conversation is all on him, and he knows it. “I’m coming home this weekend to see you guys.”

  “What?” I choke out. I can hardly believe it. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be there Friday. I want to watch you play. Is it a home game?”

  “It is.”

  “Perfect. I’m gonna go. And I was hoping all of us could go out to dinner Saturday night,” he says.

  “Who’s all of us?”

  “You, me, Mom and Dad.”

  I burst out laughing. I can’t help it. Ryan is living in a dream world. I guess this is what happens when you go away to college in another state and pretend your family no longer exists. “They hate each other, bro. Like, seriously. Mom would rather eat gravel than have a meal with Dad.”

  “I already talked to them both. They’re willing to have dinner together for the sake of our family,” he says, sounding utterly sincere.

  “Please tell me it’s a restaurant so neither one of them can do or say something they’ll regret,” I say.

  “It is,” Ryan says reassuringly. “I already made a reservation. Are you and your girlfriend pretty serious?”

  I’m hesitant. Sharing how I feel about Ava with Ryan leaves me vulnerable. We had a decent relationship before he up and left us all, but he would also give me endless shit. I felt like he never took me seriously. Like I was one giant joke to be made fun of.

  “You being quiet is answer enough,” Ryan says.

  Now it’s my turn to blow out a ragged breath. “We’re serious.”

  “You should ask her to go with us Saturday.”

  Now that is just flat out crazy talk. I do not want Ava to witness my family of four all together. It’ll turn into a complete shitshow and fast. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Come on. Has she met our parents yet?”

  “She actually met Mom last night.”

  “If she can handle Mom, she can handle the rest of us. Mom’s worse than Dad,” Ryan says, chuckling again.

  His comment irritates me, and I don’t know why. Yeah, it’s true. Mom is more prone to act like a lunatic, especially when she’s drunk, but come on. Dad is just as bad. He’s going through a midlife crisis that makes him want to fuck every woman he sees.

  It’s embarrassing. The both of them are. I don’t want Ava exposed to that. What if she thinks less of me when she sees all of us in action?

  I can’t risk it.

  “I think it’s best if it’s just the four of us,” I tell Ryan, my voice firm.

  “Whatever you say. I’ll call the restaurant back and make the reservation for five, just in case you change your mind,” he says.

  “Don’t even bother,” I start, but he cuts me off.

  “Hey, I have to go. My break’s over. But I’ll see you Friday night. Look for me in the stands. Okay?”

  He ends the call before I can say anything else, and I kick the fence as hard as possible, just because I can. A group of girls—they all look like freshman, I don’t recognize any of them—all squeal and run away from me. Just to freak them out even more, I yell at them, a loud HEY that makes their feet move even faster.

  “What the hell, Bennett? Have you lost your damn mind or what?” someone calls to me from behind.

  I turn to see Jackson walking toward me, moving with that easy way of his, like he’s got all the time in the world. Thank Jesus he doesn’t move that slow on the field, or he’d be kicked off the team. “More like ‘or what,’” I tell him as he approaches.

  Once he’s right next to me, I fall into step with him, the both of us headed for practice. With the call from my brother, I’m close to being late, which I never am, and which Jackson almost always is.

  “What’s got you so pissed off?” Jackson asks as we both duck our heads against the gusty wind. “That cute girlfriend of yours giving you trouble again?”

  “Hell no. She’s perfect.” I try to focus on the fact that I’m seeing her again tonight, instead of being pissed at my brother. After plenty of consideration, I’ve figured out a plan on how we can both get naked for hours with no one bugging us. My car trunk is filled with a couple of pillows and a shit ton of blankets. It’s all part of my plan. “My brother called me.”

  Jackson frowns. “You two don’t get along?”

  “More like Ryan has been avoiding me for the past three years,” I tell him.

  “Damn. What happened? He fall off the face of the earth?” Jackson asks.

  “He went away to college in Oregon. My parents announced they were getting a divorce. I think Ryan’s chosen to stay away because shit isn’t right.” No one else really knows this besides Brenden, Ava, Cami (fuck me sideways, that sucks so bad) and now Jackson.

  Though Ava did mention that there are rumors about my family. Our community is spread out all over this mountain, but there aren’t very many people around here, and they all fuckin’ talk. And according to Ava, supposedly they’ve been talking about my parents.

  Sucks.

  “I heard your parents were divorcing a while ago.” He sends me a sympathetic look. “Sorry, man. My parents are divorced too.”

  “I don’t even care if they’re getting a divorce. It should’ve been finalized over a year ago, but nope. It’s the way they act toward each other and me that I hate. It’s like they’ve both gone crazy. Dragging each other through court, like they’re trying to prove some sort of fucked up point. I don’t get it.” I shake my head. “And my brother acts like he doesn’t give a damn about any of us. He frustrates the shit out of me.”

  “Maybe his staying away is the only way he can deal with it,” Jackson suggests.

  “Yeah well, the least he can do is send me a text once a week or something. Once a month, even. Hell, I’d be happy with just birthday and Christmas cards. But it’s like he cut off all communication with us. The dude fucking ghosted his own family.” I shake my head. “It’s going to take me a while to forgive him.”

  “He’s your brother,” Jackson says. “You’ll forgive him.”

  He says it so easily, and I wish I felt that way. Automatically forgiving.

  But I’m wary. After everything I’ve been through these last few years, I don’t trust hardly anyone. When it comes to Ryan, my walls are up. And it’s going to take him a while to tear them back down.

  Once practice is over, I take a shower and get ready to see Ava. Not everyone on my team takes showers after practice. Most of the time, I don’t either. I’m in too much of a hurry to get home, so I just grab my stuff and leave and take one there. At least the water is guaranteed to be hot the entire time. Plus, I can take my time in my own shower. In the locker room, we’re all hustling to get out of there.

  But tonight, I gotta look good. I need to smell good too. Ava doesn’t want me showing up all smelly and gross.

  When I’m finished, I leave school and head up the hill to pick her up. During the entire drive, I can’t stop thinking about my brother, and how he called me like we talked only yesterday. Such a bunch of bullshit. I wonder what it’s like, to move through life pretending that everything’s cool when it’s really not?

  Huh. I should know. I do the same thing.

  Despite my anger and resentment, deep down, I’m glad he’s coming to watch my game. He’s never seen me play since he graduated high school.

  My only fear is he’ll bring Mom or Dad with him. Or worse, both. So they can get in an argument in the stands for everyone to see? No thanks. I do my best to keep my family business private, yet it still gets out and everyone talks about us behind closed doors.

  By the time I arrive at the Starbucks where I’m picking her up, it’s starting to rain. I see her through the giant window, sitti
ng at a table all by herself, her head bent over her notebook as she writes furiously across it. I park directly in front of that window and just watch her for a while, the sight of her easing the tension running through me. My shoulders relax. My heart rate settles. I don’t even have to talk to her and she already calms my frayed nerves.

  That girl works magic on me, swear to God.

  Her pencil comes to a stop on her notebook, and she lifts her head, as if she can sense she’s being watched. It’s already dark outside. I’m sure she can’t tell it’s me sitting in the parking lot, staring at her. But she’s got a sixth sense or whatever the hell you call it, and she knows.

  She knows I’m outside.

  My phone rings, the Bluetooth on my car picking it up and I lean forward, hitting the screen to answer the call.

  “Are you here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why didn’t you text me to let me know?”

  “I like watching you,” I say, which is the damn truth.

  She’s quiet for a moment. “That’s a little creepy.”

  “Not like I’m stalking you. I just like—watching you. You look cute in there. Like a good girl working on her homework.” That’s exactly what she is.

  But she’s the good girl who likes to do bad things. With me.

  Talk about a lucky bastard.

  “I didn’t think you liked good girls,” she says, her voice low and teasing.

  “Oh I love good girls. Specifically, one good girl,” I say, watching as a slow smile curls her perfect lips. “Now get your pretty ass out here so we can leave. I have a surprise for you.”

  “A surprise?” She sounds excited. She looks it too, from the way she’s hurriedly gathering up her things and shoving them in her backpack. “What is it?”

  “If I tell you, then it’s not a surprise,” I tease her.

  She rises to her feet, the phone still clutched to her ear. “I’m starving.”