The Redemption of Callie and Kayden (13 page)

hood of my coat over my head and tucking my hands into my

pockets. “About what?”

He halts on the bottom step and I crane my neck to look up

at him. “About your loyalty to this family,” he says.

The icy breeze pinches my cheeks. “I am already loyal to this

family.”

He shakes his head and targets his finger at Luke’s rusty

1980s Chevy truck parked at the end of the driveway. “Not if you’re

hanging out with him.”

“With Luke?”

“With Kayden’s best friend.”

I start to walk away, but his fingers snag my arm and he

stabs his nails aggressively into the fabric of my coat as he

wrenches me back toward him. “You know he was there that

night?” he growls. “Luke was, when Kayden beat up Caleb and he

didn’t even try to stop him.”

I jerk my arm, but he constricts his grip. “Jackson, let go of

me.” I bend my elbow and twist my arm again and jerk on it, but

he won’t let me go. “Please, you’re hurting me.”

His eyes are as icy as the snow beneath my feet and his

fingers unwrap from my arm. I stumble to the side and press my

hand to the side of the house to get my footing. “I’ve been best

friends with Caleb since I was six, Callie, and you used to be friends with him too.”

I back down the driveway away from him, shaking from the

confrontation. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“You never want to talk about anything, Callie.” He bends his

knee and steps up to the next stair without turning around. “You

just shut down and go to your own weird little place.”

“Because I have to!” I whirl around and sprint down the

driveway. That weird little place he’s referring to is more of a home than this place will ever be. This place holds memories that stab at

me every time I step foot inside it.

I hop into the truck and the warm air flowing out the vents

comforts me. I climb over Seth’s lap, because he refuses to “sit

bitch” and I settle in the middle. Once I’m situated and my seat

belt’s buckled, Luke shoves the truck into reverse and backs down

the driveway. My brother is standing at the top of the stairs,

watching us with his hands in his pockets.

“What’s his deal?” Seth asks, nodding his head at Jackson.

“He’s upset about stuff.” I position my hands in front of the

heater vent to warm them up. I can feel Luke and Seth’s eyes on

me, but I don’t want to look at them. With my head hung low, I

breathe through my nose to force back the hot tears wanting to

spill out.

The truck bumps up and down as Luke floors it over the

small snowbank at the end of the driveway, and then he rams it

into drive and we’re speeding down the snowy road. The radio

plays peacefully in the background and the engine makes these

clinking noises. Halfway across town, Seth and Luke take out their

cigarettes and crack the windows so they can smoke. It’s chilly and

smoky and my head is falling into a very dark place.

I wish I could do it. I wish I could walk into the house, when

my mother and father and Jackson are all sitting down at the table.

I’d have a loud voice, not a shaky one, and I’d finally tell them.

They would hug me, comfort me, and tell me that it was all going

to be okay.

But I know that’s not how it would go. It’s been six years

since it happened and each year I spend in the shadows of silence

is another weight added to my shoulder. It makes it harder to tell

the truth and time makes it harder for people to understand.

Seth and Luke flick their cigarettes out the window as we

turn into Luke’s driveway. Flakes of gray ash blow back into the

cab and land on my clothes. I’ve seen his house before, when my

mother was driving me to school, but I’ve never actually been

there, nor do I know much about his mother and father, other than

that they got divorced when he was young. It’s a smaller home,

with green siding in desperate need of a paint job. There is a few

feet of snow in the yard and a tree in the center near a salted

pathway that leads up to the front porch.

Luke shoves the truck into park and turns the key, silencing

the engine. He stares at his house as he removes the key from the

ignition and stuffs it into the pocket of his black hoodie. “My

mom’s not here,” he explains. “And I suggest we leave here before

she comes back.”

“What exactly are we doing here?” Seth wonders as he

pushes his thumb on the buckle to unlock his seat belt. Then

pushes the button on mine, releasing my waist from the strap.

“We’re making a plan,” he states with a pensive look on his

face as he rubs his hand across his cropped brown hair.

Seth and I trade a look. “A plan?” we say simultaneously.

“To get out of this place.” He flips the handle and pushes the

door open. “I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of being here. It’s

depressing.”

“We’re would we go?” I wonder as Seth opens the truck door

and hops out into the light layer of frost covering the slender

driveway.

Luke jumps out and looks back into the cab at me with his

hand resting on top of the door. “Anywhere but here.”

I glance at his house, wondering what’s so bad about it. I

scoot across the seat toward the open door where Seth is waiting

for me with his hand extended for me to take. “Any exact ideas of

where we’d go?” Slipping my fingers into his, I jump out and slip

on the ice, but Seth catches me by the arm and saves me from a

very painful fall.

“Somewhere cheap,” Seth says as he helps me get my

balance. “I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty much broke after

buying all those Christmas presents.”

“I still can’t believe you bought all your Christmas presents

from the Quickie Mart,” I tell him as he slams the door. I fiddle with the fifty-cent machine bracelet he gave me that has a gold teddy

bear charm on it to remind me of “better times” he told me when

he gave it to me. He was referring to the carnival where Kayden

and I first kissed and where he also won me a teddy bear, which

we dressed up and left with a Take me home sign on it.

“Oh, you know you loved yours.” He smiles at me and then

loops his arm through mine and we skip after Luke up the pathway

to the front door of his house.

Luke shoves the door open and steps to the side to hold it

for Seth and me. We turn sideways so we can fit through the

doorway without letting go of each other and Luke follows us in

and shuts the door.

I get the feeling that something’s wrong the moment I step

inside. There are heavy striped curtains blocking the windows so

it’s very dark and musty. The orange-and-brown-plaid couches are

covered in plastic and there’s a plastic rug sprawled over most of

the shaggy brown carpet. There are shelves built into the walls and

each one is lined with rows of animal figurines that are

coordinated by breed. Plants decorate the windowsills and are

lined up from smallest to largest, but they’re all brown and dying.

It’s cold too and I can see my breath puffing out in front of my

face and it mixes with the dust.

“What’s with all the plastic?” Seth asks as Luke makes his way

to a hallway at the back corner of the room.

Luke shrugs as he flicks the thermostat with his fingers. “My

mom’s insane.”

We don’t utter another word. We leave the living room and

head down the hall. I notice how bare the walls are, no photos, no

pictures, no decorations, and it gets colder the farther back into

the house we go. I’m getting kind of nervous, especially because

the air is really dusty and it’s making it hard to breathe. When we

reach the end of the hall, however, Luke opens a door and I step

into the room and the air clears.

“So this is my room,” Luke tells me awkwardly and then

cracks a joke. “You two are the only two people besides Kayden

who have dared step foot into the shithole.”

I turn in a circle as I take in the made bed, the band posters

tacked to the walls, and the desk with a computer on it that looks

like it’s from the nineties. Everything is very clean and very orderly, but not in an uneasy way like out in the living room. “It’s not a

shithole,” I assure him. “It’s your room.”

He seems happy with my response and his rigid shoulders

relax a little. “Well, I’m glad you think so because I sure as hell

don’t.” He pats the front pocket of his jacket and takes his pack of

cigarettes out. “Oh, and by the way, it’s fucking hilarious when you

swear.” He doesn’t light up a cigarette; he just holds the pack in his hand like it’s his security blanket.

Seth sits on the bed and bounces up and down a little and

the mattress squeaks. “So what’s your brilliant plan?” he asks,

crossing his leg over his knee.

Still holding his cigarettes, Luke rolls up his sleeves and

scoots out a chair that’s in front of the computer. He presses the

power button on the tower and then sits down in the chair, waiting

for the computer to boot up. He holds up his finger and reaches

for an iPod beside the computer. He hums under his breath as he

scrolls through songs and I give Seth a questioning look.

Seth raises his eyebrows and twists his head toward Luke.

“So, are you going to tell us, or are we going to have to guess?”

“You’re going to have to guess.” Luke sets the iPod down

and a song clicks on, “Running Away,” by Hoobastank.

“Are we guessing by this song?” Seth’s face lights up with

enthusiasm as he straightens up his posture.

Luke nods as he opens a search engine and types a few keys

on the keyboard. “Yep.”

Seth taps his finger on his chin, enjoying the game. “Are we

running away?”

Luke pops a cigarette into his mouth and then claps his

hand. “Bravo. Nicely done.”

I shoot Seth a confused look and he just shrugs. “What? I

love games.”

I sigh. “Am I the only one who seems to mind that we’re

talking about running away?”

They both shrug and I roam around the room looking at all

Luke’s posters and little knickknacks scattered about. Seth takes

out his phone and starts texting while Luke types on the keyboard

and clicks the mouse. There are photos all over his room, some of

him with a woman who looks a lot like him, and I think it’s his

mother. There’s also another woman he’s in a few pictures with

who’s a lot older than Luke, and she has the same brown eyes as

him. Maybe it’s his aunt or his sister, but I thought she was much

younger. There are a few of pictures of him with random girls and

a handful where he’s with Kayden. They’re standing next to a black

motorcycle and smiling and they look happy. The bike has a huge

dent in it and Kayden’s arm is scraped and bleeding.

“He wrecked it,” Luke clarifies. When I turn around, I find that

he’s watching me from the computer desk as he leans back in the

chair. “He was trying to jump it over a hill and he wrecked it.”

“I think I remember.” I glance at the photo again. “That was

the year he couldn’t play for a few weeks because he’d hurt his

arm, right?”

“Yeah, that was the one. And we lost three games in a row

because of it.”

“My dad was so mad.” I turn around to face him. “He used to

chew him out during dinner.”

“Oh, I bet.” Luke’s mouth turns upward and I realize he

doesn’t smile very much. “He used to chew us out all the time at

practice.”

Thinking of Kayden hurts my heart. “Maybe we should go

see him,” I suggest.

“I was planning on it.” Luke clicks the mouse on the PRINT

PAGE button on the screen and the printer beside the tower

illuminates. “Right after I plan our running away.”

“Aren’t we a little too old to be running away?” Seth asks,

looking up from his phone. “Isn’t it more like a road trip, which is

something I suggested a few days ago?”

“It sounds more adventurous when you say running away,” I

admit. “Like we’re doing something scandalous.”

Seth’s shoulders jerk forward as he sputters a high-pitched

laugh. “Oh my God, I’ve been such a bad influence on you.”

My mouth droops into a frown. “What did I say?”

He stands up to shove his phone into his pocket.

“Scandalous. That’s something I would say.” He bounces back

down on the bed.

I shrug and shuffle my toe across the carpet in a half-circle in

front of me, feeling silly. “So? It’s a compliment being like you.”

All the humor evaporates from his face and his honey-brown

eyes. Within seconds he has me in his arms and he hugs me like

I’m the most important thing in the world to him. “Don’t ever

change, Callie Lawrence,” he whispers in my hair. “Promise me you

won’t.”

I enfold my arms around him and set my chin on his

shoulder. “I won’t. I promise.”

The printer starts making shrill noises as buttons glow and

flash and Luke clears his throat. “I hate to break up your little

moment, but I’m ready to share my plan.”

We break apart, but still hold hands as we turn to him. He

swivels in the chair, back and forth and back and forth as the

printer spits out pieces of paper stained with ink. When it stops, he collects the papers and holds one up. It’s a picture of a light-blue