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I stiffened, suppressing the urge to smack him. Not today. He laughed. “As pretty as you are when you cry, don’t do it.”
“Oh, okay,” I rolled my eyes, as if I could just shut off the tears like a shower faucet.
“I don’t want you to feel bad.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t get to decide that.” I hugged my knees tighter to my chest as I listened to the steady beeping of all the machines he was hooked up to. I shuddered, unaccustomed to seeing Callum any kind of helpless or dependent. Even as kids, he’d been the one taking care of Caroline. His dad was never home so he and Elena took care of Caroline and me. We were the girly girls who pitched fits and got moody. They were the rocks. Our anchors. It was quiet for another few minutes as I avoided Callum’s stare. Then, once again:
“Hey, pretty.”
“What, Callum? Are you still high right now?”
“I think so. I want to talk to you though.”
“Then talk to me.”
He frowned. “Why are you being so mean right now?”
“What?” His question was so innocent it jolted me. I blinked, thought about it and then realized I was in fact being sour with him. But it just felt like the balance we needed. I’d been riddled with guilt and waiting for him to blow up at me since the minute I stepped into his room for the first time but he hadn’t. Well, because he was unconscious. But even when he woke up, his first words to me were a light, joking question – “Do I look as shitty as I feel?” So I waited for the drugs to wear off and felt brittle, on edge as I braced myself for Callum to come to and finally realize the severity of what happened. That everything he worked so hard for had been suddenly and brutally ripped away from him. Because of me.
But even between doses of painkillers, he was perfectly calm, even and reasonable with me. More so than usual. It felt fake and I hated it.
“I’m not being mean.”
“You are. You’re acting all shitty right now – I feel all shitty and you’re acting all shitty.” His words were tired, slurred, strung into one long breath.
“Well, you’re being weird.”
“I feel weird. When I breathe, it feels like a little leprechaun is stabbing me from the inside. With a green machete.”
“What are you talking about?”
He shook his head at me. “I don’t know, Lake. I do not… “ He squinted like he forgot what he was saying. But then remembered. “Know.”
I snorted. Jesus. Even back when he smoked weed, he didn’t get high like this. “Are you really that messed up right now? You weren’t too messed up to fuck with me before.”
“I’ll never be too messed up to fuck with you.”
“From one to ten, how high are you right now?”
Callum paused, in deep thought. I was sure he was going to say something stupid like “twelve” or “purple,” but he just stared vacantly through me and finally said, “What?”
“What?”
“I spaced out. Did you ask me something?”
“Oh my God.” I covered my face and finally laughed at him. “I could have so much fun with this if I didn’t feel so bad.”
“Why do you feel bad?”
I was instantly pissy again. “Why do you think I feel bad?”
“Because you think this was your fault but you’re wrong?”
I stared at him, suddenly doubting how loopy he really was. “I’m not wrong, Callum.”
“Yes, you are. This isn’t your fault, Lake. Theo is a shitty person. Whoever those pricks were in the park – they are shitty people. It’s their fault. Not yours. You’re not the one who kicked my ass.”
“Right, but it never would’ve happened if I didn’t date Theo and break up with him and make you save me if he got scary.”
