Page 28 of Where We Started


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Her eyes flashed, her nose flared, and then she stomped off toward the woods that separated our properties.

“Callie! Wait!”

I nearly tripped over a branch trying to keep up with her.

“What’s wrong?”

Finally, once we were far enough away from her house, she spun on me.

“You weren’t supposed to come. I didn’t want you to see my house, or my broken dad, or my pathetic life!” she screamed at me, her face flushing with anger.

“Why?”

Her hands went up as she paced the clearing around us. There was an old cabin off to our left that looked like someone had recently visited. She glared over my shoulder at it as more tears clouded her vision. I couldn’t stop watching her legs, or thinking about how tan they looked in her skirt.

With a choked sob, she explained, “Because you come from this perfect life, Wes. A big family that takes vacations and goes to church. You’ve been on a plane; you get new clothes at the start of every school year, and you don’t even go to school! I don’t have that. I have a dad who barely looks at me, never asks where I’ve been, and thinks it’s perfectly appropriate to let me be around this lifehechose. I grew up without a schedule; there’s no normalcy in my life. I drank my first beer atnine, Wes. Found my first blunt at ten. Saw people having sex when I was too young to even understand what they were doing. I’ve been offered a tattoo more times than I can count. I made my own lock system on my door because of how many times guys have tried to sneak into my room. Sometimes there’s not food here if Dad drinks and forgets to cash his checks or go shopping. The only way I get new clothes is if Red takes me.”

Her voice began to shake as she neared the end of her tirade. Chest heaving, she stared at me, waiting for me to reply. All I could focus on were the images she’d shared and having to go through all that at such a young age. I clenched my fists tightly, embracing the pain and tenderness from using them against the heavy bag for the past hour.

The sun had officially dipped below the hills, leaving a dusky sky overhead and a few stars beginning to peek through. There was a lot I wanted to say, but I wasn’t sure how to say it all, so instead, I stepped closer and pulled her hand into mine.

“What are you afraid of?”

Her dark brows pulled together as she searched my face, “What do you mean?”

“You don’t want me to see it…what are you afraid of? Do you think I’ll judge you?”

She wrapped her arms around her middle, as if she was trying to become smaller. I hated it.

“I’m afraid of losing you because of it. Like it will be too much for you, and you’ll cut me loose like one of those fish you’re always catching.”

A laugh loosened the tightness in my chest. “I legally have to throw those back.”

She tried to smack my chest, but I caught her hand.

“You fish for the thrill, to hold it in your hand for a pretty photo. A memory. Then you toss it back, never to think of it again. I think I’m something you’ll remember one day when thinking back over your youth, while you sip expensive wine with your fancy wife. I’m the memory you’ll have, not the moment you want to keep.”

I kissed her forehead, then wrapped my arms around her. Fuck, she had no clue, did she? No idea how embedded in my life she’d become.

“I got you something today. I know it’s small and cheap…but it made me think of you.”

She leaned back, tilting her head. “You did?”

“Mmmhmm.” I pressed the key into her palm, hoping it wouldn’t be a big deal, but she disconnected from our hug and took a step back.

Her pink nails curled around it, and the tightening in my chest made it seem like she’d curled them around my heart.

“A key?” Her blue eyes lifted. “What’s it go to?”

The small key was painted a light purple with stars, made to replicate the night sky. The key didn’t even go to anything, it was a blank, but I didn’t have time to think all that through when I was in the store earlier.

I stumbled through explaining myself. “Right now, it doesn’t go to anything, but I was thinking maybe one day we can get it made for our house—”

Her pink lips parted on a gasp.

I shut my eyes and powered on. “You think I want to get rid of you, or throw you back.” I shook my head. “Callie, if you want to use a fishing metaphor, then you’d be the river, not the fish inside it. You cut a path through me, filled it, and now it’s always shifting and moving. I can’t wait to see what our life will look like someday, but for now, I’m happy taking it one day at a time.”

She stepped forward and threw her arms around my neck.

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