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“It’s twenty degrees, remember? I think the popsicles are okay.” I closed the bag, and my cheeks warmed, despite the cold. “Anyway, it’s silly to eat popsicles in the winter, but I—”
“You should go home.”
I huffed at his firm tone. “You keep saying that. You seem to like to tell me what to do.”
He gazed off down the road, his jaw ticcing. “Maybe I do,” he said softly. “I wish you would listen.”
As pretty as his eyes were, I wasn’t sold on this version of Callum. When he’d just been the man behind the screen, he hadn’t bossed me around or interrupted me. A part of me wished I had been able to keep him locked away as a memory.
I reached out and touched his arm. He went completely motionless.
“I think I’ll take you up on your advice. But I don’t need an escort, so I’ll say goodbye to you here.” I let go of his arm and wrapped my fingers around the handle of my cart. “Bye, Callum.”
He let me go with a simple nod. When I turned the corner a block away, I glanced back and found him in the exact same position, legs braced wide, arms crossed, following my every move with his eyes.
I gave him a little wave, even though he was giving me murder eyes, and continued on my way. When I was completely out of his sight, and he was out of mine, I finally took a deep breath and tried to calm my thrashing heart.
Everything was fine. That had gone just peachy. I was new to dealing with men I’d spent an evening dry humping, but I was pretty sure that had gone as well as to be expected.
I could have told him I’d once been his little bird, but since we wouldn’t be hooking up again, and The Seasons Change would likely be done recording their album soon, it seemed like an exercise in self-destruction. My memories of him might have been tainted by the true blue, live-and-in-technicolor version of him, but he could keep the ones he had of me.
Because that was all we were: memories of people we used to be to each other.
Four Years Ago
Dear Callum,
Do you date? How does that even work? Are you ever home long enough to take a girl on a date?
This line of questioning isn’t out of the blue, I promise.
There’s this guy I was paired with in my earth science lab. The only reason I sat beside him was because I missed my train and was late for class and it was the last seat available. Not that I need to explain myself, but since you know me, I’m sure you’re surprised I ended up beside a boy.
Anyway, his name is Will, and he has floppy brown hair and dimples. Kind of the opposite of Karthik Singh, which is a good thing, believe me. He doesn’t seem to mind that I’m mostly mute around him, and he told me he likes my hair (I almost vomited right then and there). Well, he asked me out, and I said yes.
Why?
I don’t even know if I like him, but jeez, I should be dating, right? I can’t just wait for this mythical shadow, can I?
Since you’re older, and hopefully wiser, I’m hoping you have advice for me. What do I do? How do I act? Do I even want to go out with him? Help me, Callum!
Your neurotic friend,
Birdie
Dear Callum,
Hey. Hello? It’s been two weeks. I wanted to make sure everything’s okay. I’ve gotten used to hearing from you more often and I’m sad not seeing your name in my inbox.
Just in case you’re wondering, the date went fine. We went to a movie so I didn’t have to talk a lot. And then we had ice cream and sat side by side on a bench to eat it so I didn’t have to figure out how much eye contact was too much eye contact.
He kissed my cheek and gave me a hug. I’m pretty sure he had an erection, which...I don’t know, is that normal?
The sad thing is, other than the errant erection, he was perfectly nice, but I was so preoccupied with worries over you, I couldn’t really give him my all.
Can you just write me back? I really miss you.
Xoxo,
