He turns and looks at me. “You’re a good friend too, Felix. We’re all lucky to still have you around.”
“Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, stuffing my hands into my pockets. Thank God I can at least interact with the stuff I’m wearing; I don’t know how I’d handle it if I went through myself.
He gives me a sharp nod before crawling back into bed. “’Night. See you tomorrow.”
“’Night.” I give him a nod goodbye, then search for the smooth feeling that is Nolan. If cool could be an actual sensation, that’s what his anchor feels like.
Ugh. I hope he isn’t with a girl.
Chapter 3
Callie
Itake a sip of my coffee, as I stare out the passenger side window on my way to school. My reflection looks dully back at me, distorted by the trees whipping past. The bags under my eyes are puffy and pronounced, advertising the choppy sleep I had last night, and pretty much every night in general.I may not be able to die, but I sure can look like death.
I yawn so widely my jaw cracks, and my breath fogs the glass. I draw a little heart with my finger. It was a good thing Felix didn’t mind being sent away last night, and thankfully, wasn’t there this morning. Yeah, him watching me sleep would’ve probably been creepy, but the truth is, I didn’t want him to witness me thrashing about in my sleep. To see me frozen in a silent scream when I’m lucky enough to wake up.
The nightmares are constantly with me any time I close my eyes and drift. They’re frightening in their realism, memories pressed together into a never ending horror that requires no embellishment. The basement that was always cold no matter the temperature outside. The table he always tied me to leeching the heat from my skin, and slick with my blood. The crunch and crack of bones breaking, the heavy thud of bat meeting flesh, and the frustrated grunts of my father as he worked filling the void where my screams once echoed, my throat already worn into silence. I couldn’t escape that hell hole then, and it seems that I can’t escape it now.
“Looks like we’ll have to get you a car while we’re living here,” my aunt announces, startling me so badly I spill some coffee out of my travel mug onto my lap.Scalding hot, then wet and cold. Awesome.
She hands me a napkin from the center console while still keeping her eyes on the road. “Can’t seem to get around here without one. Do you have your license?”
I glance at her, while I dab at the coffee stain. She looks like she’s off to a job interview or something, but she didn’t mention anything. I don’t even know what she does for work normally. I haven’t really been all that chatty this past week. Six weeks waiting for my father to go to trial, then the week I sat there listening to the evidence of his “crime” and they didn’t know a fraction of it, left me disinterested in pretty much everything.
“No,” I answer after a beat, looking back to the window. There’s a visible tick in my jaw from my clenched teeth. “My father didn’t really see a need for it.”Then I might’ve been able to get away.
My aunt tsks in disgust at the mention of my father.Interesting.“We’ll have to fix that. Study up, and I’ll take you down to the DMV to get your permit.”
I look back and nod dumbly. “Thanks,” I add with slightly more warmth.
I remind myself again that what happened to me wasn’t her fault. No one is promised a white knight.
When we reach the school, she pulls over near the front. “Callie,” she murmurs, before I can get out of the car, and places a hand on my arm. “I know you don’t know me, but know this; it will be over my dead body before I letanyonehurt you again.”
My heart leaps into my throat, and my eyes burn from lack of blinking. “You know?” I croak.
“No, I don’tknow,” she emphasizes, her gaze intent on me, “but seeing you now, I have an idea of what your bastard father did.”
Tears decide to make an appearance, forcing me to blink them away. I shake my head, my voice barely a whisper, “I really don’t think you do.”
She gives me a gentle squeeze before releasing me. “When you’re ready to talk; I’ll be there to listen. You’re not alone, darling. Not anymore.”
I sniff once and bob my head, pressing my emotions down hard. If I feel, I shut down, and I can’t do that right now.
“I’ll be here after school to pick you up,” she tries for upbeat, but it comes out warbled around the edges. “I have my mobile. If you need anything, just call. You have yours, correct?”
I clear my throat. “Yep. In my backpack.”
I leave my travel mug in the car and get out, slinging my backpack over one shoulder. With an awkward wave, I close the door and step back.
She smiles in a way that doesn’t reach her eyes and waves back, before pulling back out into traffic.
I run my knuckles under my eyes to catch any renegade tears. Pulling my red, zip-up hoodie down to cover the coffee stain on my lap, I lock away what just happened in the car.Yes, let’s go with a casual mention of your long-term suffered abuse right before you start your first day of school. Because starting at a new school in October wasn’t bad enough.
I run my hands over my hair that I had decided to wear down, split over my shoulders, and along my clothes, releasing a heavy breath as I go. This is how I survived those years. There’s no before or after. There’s only this moment, the rest locked away to be faced by a much older, much more emotionally healthy Callie. Assuming that day ever comes.
The air is cold, but hey, it’s not raining, so that’s a plus. I’ve had to go the route of layering to keep warm; a long-sleeved, black Henley with a Black Widow t-shirt thrown over, because my clothes are more geared towards Arizona weather. My heavy black boots protect up to the middle of my calves, but the wind cuts right through my dark wash, skinny jeans.
