Nolan, dressed in his thin button down shirt and bare feet, waves a quick goodbye and hurries back inside, his arms folded tight over his chest. Kaleb and Donovan nod their goodbyes with off-handed later’s shouted over their shoulders, as they head towards the black truck. I offer a wave in return. There are no “It was nice to meet you” type farewells, which I like-- as if I’ve been their friend for a while instead of meeting them this morning.
I follow Connor silently to his car, trying not to shiver through my three layers of clothing. He unlocks the passenger side door with a key and opens it for me. The Tahoe is high off the ground, but before I can attempt to hoist my way into the seat, Connor picks me up by the waist and plops me into the chair like I weigh less than nothing. Then he closes the door without comment and makes his way to the driver’s side.Oh good. Still sticking to the strong, silent approach.
Connor settles into the driver’s seat and starts the car, the engine a more gentle rumble than Nolan’s sports car. He flips on the headlights and begins the journey back towards the front gate, the lane lit with hidden street lamps. They cast a muted yellow light inside the car, highlighting the sharp slope of Connor’s nose, the soft curve of his lips, and the hard jut of his chin.
As we make our way out onto the city streets, the only sound in the cab of the car is the soft hum of some classic rock station. It’s a companionable silence, probably because this is Connor’s natural state of being, though I wonder why. Does it have anything to do with the shadows I see within his deep set, amber eyes? Part of me wants to ask, but more of me doesn’t want to invite return questions about my past, so I let the silence hold and gaze absently out the window.
Connor drives completely differently than Nolan, which I appreciate. He gradually accelerates and decelerates with an unhurried pace, patiently making his way down the road. Honestly, everything about Connor speaks to this methodical, steadfast approach to the world, sure in his actions and unperturbed by the speed at which others whirl around him. He offers a different type of calm than Kaleb, one where it’s okay to just be, and I try to take some of it inside myself. The quiet leaves me alone with my thoughts, and I can feel the stress of the day begin to crawl from my gut, but I have to wait.I can’t lose it now.
It takes about twenty-five minutes to get from Nolan’s home to mine, most of the drive cocooned in darkness and the beams of car headlights. I spend the entire time counting my breaths and mentally fighting for control.
When we make it up my driveway and Connor stops behind my aunt’s Mercedes, I chirp a quick thanks and hop from the car, grabbing my backpack by the top loop. He nods in acknowledgement and waits until I’m through my front door before driving away.
My heart begins to thunder in my chest, the shit storm ‘Later Callie’ needed to deal with is fast approaching.Just a little longer.
“Is that you, Callie?” Mildred shouts from down the hall near the staircase.
Crap.I shuffle my way over, a tight smile lining my lips. I find her in a small office with a slanted ceiling from the stairs above. There are papers and old books scattered on the barely there desk.
She turns in her chair and looks over at me in the doorway, a pleasant expression warms her face and tugs at the corners of her eyes. “Did you have fun?”
“Yup,” I answer, nodding my head. My fingers dig into the walls on either side of the doorframe, the giant tsunami still fast approaching. “Going to head up to take a shower, then I think I’ll read in bed.”
“Oh, okay,” a small hint of disappointment lingers in her voice, and I think of the happy way Nolan talked with his parents.
I chew on my lip and tap out a nervous tattoo with my fingers. I want to give her something. Show her that I don’t want her to give up on me.
Without thinking, I blurt, “There’s a party on Saturday I’ve been invited to, and I was wondering if maybe we could, I don’t know, go shopping or something? I don’t really have high school party clothes.” As an afterthought, I add, “If it’s okay with you that I go?”
Never having friends meant I’d never really needed to ask permission to do anything. I never did anything, period. The claws of memories dig into my heart, and I know I’m a ticking bomb that’s running out of time.
A brilliant smile lights her face. “I would love to take you shopping. How about tomorrow after school?” she beams. “And yes, you can go.”
“Great!” I confirm, then motion my thumb over my shoulder. “Gonna go take that shower now.”
She waves me off and returns to whatever project she’s working on with all those books. When I’m not fighting my own meltdown, I’ll remember to ask what she’s working on.
I leave my backpack at the foot of the staircase and sprint up the stairs, losing my shit taking priority over my hatred of stairs. Running into the bathroom and slamming the door behind me, I flip the lights and fan on, then quickly twist the shower on to scalding hot. My whole body shakes with my disjointed labored breaths, and I rip my clothes off with a panicked frenzy.Almost there.
The agony has worked its way to my throat, blocking air from reaching my lungs, and the first silent scream contorts my face into an ugly exclamation of the broken person inside. I scramble into the shower, nearly tripping over the lip of the tub, and slide the glass doors behind me.
The hot water heater works fast, and my skin is instantly a vibrant, burning red. I curl into a ball on the floor of the tub, the high pressure of the shower beating into the top of my head. Tears, finally free, stream down my face hidden among the raining water.
With an aching heart, I open the straining locks, and it all comes pouring out. I let all the pain and fear overtake me. Slapping a hand over my mouth, I scream, using the sounds of the shower to swallow the sound.
Too much. It was all too much.My thoughts scramble around everything I experienced today. I’m a witch. Vampires are real. Werewolves are real. Fucking demons are real! There’s a whole world that supposedly I’ve always been a part of and I knew nothing! Where were these guardians of the realm while my father tortured and abused me?
I gasp and choke, drowning in the clutches of memories. I try to weave bandages made of the laughter and slices of joy I found today, desperately attempting to cover over what feels like never ending bleeding wounds.It’s over, I beg the violent monsters roaming my mind.He’s gone. There are people that care about me now. I’m not alone anymore!
They ignore my pleas, twisting and raging the frantic cries of a shattered girl, and it’s only with exhaustion that my nightly ritual finally ends. However, I can’t move, my muscles are weak from the contortions of my misery.
I sit under the burning water staring at the tiles with sightless eyes. Eventually, I wash up and make my way out of the shower not knowing how much time has passed. Curling up on my bed, only wearing a towel, I fall into what I hope will be a dreamless sleep. I don’t have to wait long before the nightmares start again.
Chapter 8
Callie
Oh dear god, what fresh hell is this?I’m trapped in a makeup chair at Bloomingdale's with a way too excited employee boasting the virtues of whatever she’s slathering on my face.
