She sips her coffee to hide her smile, something only I seem able to bring out. “You know there’s no such thing as an upper class freshman.”
I sigh, running my fingers through my lightly tousled hair. “Yeah, I know, especially for people like you and me. We’re like two black sheep.”
Which might be the truest statement I’ve ever said. Over the last three months, I’ve learned a lot about Callie and just how traumatic her past was. Raped by her older brother’s friend at twelve, Callie has spent the years since then hiding what happened and building a shell around herself, cloaking herself in ugly, baggy clothes and isolating herself from her friends until she had none left. I’ve made it my mission the last few months to push her out of her shell.
Yeah, she’s still a work in progress. I have yet to get her to wear a dress, shorts, or anything remotely tight enough to show off her petite figure. I’m working on it, though.
“There are many more black sheep out there than just you and me,” she disagrees with me, as she typically does. “And I’ve toned it down. I’m even wearing a red t-shirt today, like the list said to do.”
My lips quirk. “Which would look even better if you’d let those pretty locks of yours down, instead of hiding them in that ponytail all the time.”
“One step at a time,” she says. “It was hard enough just letting my hair grow out. It makes me feel weird. Besides, that has yet to be added to the list.”
Aw, the infamous list, one of my most brilliant drunken plans. After a night of one too many shots of vodka, we confessed our darkest secrets and then I decided that we should make a list of things we’re most afraid to do. Over the last couple of months, we’ve been gradually working to cross items off.
“Well, it needs to be. In fact, I’m doing it when I get back to my room. Plus, you’re still wearing that God-awful hoodie,” I say, tugging on the bottom of her ratty grey jacket. “I thought we talked about that hideous thing. That you’re beautiful and you don’t need to cover up. Besides, it’s like eighty degrees outside.”
She wraps the jacket around herself. “Subject change, please.”
I swing my arm around her and sigh, but give her exactly what she asks. “Fine, but one day we’re going to talk about a complete makeover, which I will supervise.”
She sighs heavily. “We’ll see.”
Her Debby Downer attitude is ruining my mood. As her best friend, it’s my job to cheer her up.
I slam to a halt and whirl around in front of her. “I just have to say one more thing.” I place a finger to the corner of her eye. “I like the maroon eyeliner much better than the excessive black.”
“I have your approval on that.” She presses her hand dramatically to her heart, a gesture she picked up from me. “I’m so relieved. It’s been weighing on my mind since this morning.”
I roll my eyes as I smile. “You’re doing good in every department, I just wish you’d wear a dress or shorts or something for once and show off those legs of yours.”
Her expression instantly sinks. “Seth, you know why… I mean, you know… I can’t…”
“I know. I’m just trying to be encouraging.”
“I know you are and that’s why I love you.”
I want to hug her for saying that. It’s been a long time since anyone has said that they loved me. Even my mother has taken to a formal, “I’m glad you’re okay. Talk to you later. Bye,” whenever we talk on the phone.
“You’re so much happier than when I first met you.” I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I wish you could be this way around everyone, Callie. That you would stop hiding from everyone. It’s sad no one gets to see how great you are.”
“And vice-versa,” she says, understanding me better than anyone ever has.
Attempting to lighten the mood, I smirk and ask, “What do you think? Should we hit up one of the tours and make fun of the tour guide?”
“You know the way to my heart.”
We stroll up the sidewalk under the shade of the trees and make our way to the entrance. Everyone is in a state of panic, trying to figure out where to go. I watch the scatterbrained people, fully entertained as they trip over their own feet and grow frustrated when they take the wrong way.
Through my twisted internal laughter, one guy in particular catches my attention. He’s standing in the stairway with a middle-aged woman and man who I’m guessing are his parents. A tad on the tall side, he’s wearing black jeans and a grey, long-sleeved shirt, an outfit that screams dark and edgy, which is a bit of a contrast to my blunt and bold. Still, he’s hot as hell with the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen and sandy blonde hair that looks absolutely touchable. A rush of terrifying excitement ripples through my body. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this attracted to someone. This guy has my adrenaline pumping to the point where I’m actually starting to sweat.
Callie says something beside me and I nod, even though I have honest to God no idea what she said. My eyes are locked on the guy as he leans in and gives his mother a hug before moving to his father. When he turns away, his eyes catch mine from across the crowd. I should probably look away. I don’t know him and have no clue as to his sexual orientation, so openly gawking definitely isn’t me being careful. But his lips tug to a half-smile and I’m pulled in.
Just. Like. That.
“Holy sexiness,” I mutter under my breath.
“Heads up,” someone yells from close by.
I jerk my attention back to Callie just in time to see a solid guy with brown hair slam right into her.
“Holy shit.” I slap my hand over my mouth as my tiny Callie falls flat on her back.
Not only does she look hurt, but I can tell the contact is sending her into a panic.
“Get off of me,” she yells as she wiggles to get out from under him. “Get off of me now!”
I bend over to help her up, but the guy quickly pushes off her and Callie scrambles to stand up.
“I’m so sorry,” the guy says, looking genuinely apologetic. “I didn’t see you there.”
Callie blinks, clearly in a state of shock. “Kayden?”
My eyes snap wide. “Holy shit.”
The infamous Kayden Owens, a guy from Callie’s hometown. Callie stepped in to help Kayden one night right before she came to Laramie, stopping his father from beating the shit out of him. That story made me love her even more, and I secretly wished that she had lived in Mapleville so she could have done the same thing for me.
She abruptly snatches hold of my hand, dragging me toward the entrance, and I suddenly remember Mr. Sexy Eyes. My gaze darts to the stairway, but my mood plummets when I can’t find him anywhere.
Callie grips onto me as she steers us inside, letting go as she leans against the wall, struggling to regain her composure. “That was Kayden Owens,” she says between deep breaths.
My eyes wander back towards the grassy courtyard, where Kayden stands talking to a hot guy who looks like he’s got his panties in a bunch. “The Kayden Owens. The one you saved, right?”
“I didn’t save him.” She bites on her thumbnail. “I just interrupted something.”
“Something that was about to get ugly.”
“Anyone would’ve done the same.” She tries to walk off, but I grab her elbow and pull her back.
She’s not getting away that easy. She needs to understand exactly how amazing she is.
“No, a lot of people would’ve walked by,” I tell her. “It’s a common fact that a lot of people will turn their heads in the other direction. I know this from experience.”
My heart tightens in my chest and for a faltering moment, I’m back in the dirt with fists and feet flying at me. The air smells like hate and in the center of the violence, my body aches.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she says softly.
“Don’t be sorry, Callie. You have your own sad story.”