Chapter 30
Callie
I woke up Tuesday morning with a feeling of dread.
Holy God, my parents were going to be buried that day and I wasn’t there. I wondered if they knew what was happening, if they’d understand why I wasn’t there for Cody and Gram. I had a feeling that they’d be relieved that I was out of danger even though they wouldn’t be too pleased about my living arrangements. I curled further into my blankets and let quiet tears run over the bridge of my nose and into the hair at my temples. I missed them—even their overprotectiveness that had plagued me for as long as I could remember.
I didn’t move when the alarm went off beside my bed, letting the grating beep go on and on until it finally quieted. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but it didn’t really matter anyway—I wasn’t getting out of bed. If the day of my parents’ funeral wasn’t cause for a day off, I wasn’t sure what was. Instead, I reached under my pillow for my cell phone and sent off a quick text to Farrah.
“Not going to school today”
“Y?”
“Sick”
“Bullshit! Just saw you yesterday.”
“Text you later”
“WTF?”
I tried to fall back asleep, hoping that it would make the day pass quickly, but thirty minutes later there was a pounding on my front door. My heart raced and my entire body froze. I couldn’t think of any reason that someone would be at my door. Only Asa’s friends knew where I lived and I hadn’t seen them since he left.
I opened up my phone quietly to call Asa when I heard a familiar voice yelling.
“I know you’re in there!” Knock. Knock. Knock. “Open up, Callie! I better see vomit!”
Farrah’s yelling and knocking escalated as I stumbled my way into the living room. I wasn’t sure how she found out where I lived, but I wanted to hug her for showing up.
I opened up the door, almost getting punched in the face as I caught her mid-knock.
“Damn, girl. You look like shit,” she told me as she pushed her way inside. “But you’re not sick.”
I shut the door behind her, flipping the two deadbolts I’d begged Asa to install before he left. I’d never again be caught unaware by someone coming into my house.
“So, what’s up? That Ace hottie drop you?” she asked me, dropping onto the couch.
I laughed a little at her guess; little did she know she was sitting on his furniture.
“No, he’s fine. Still in Oregon, though,” I replied, walking into the kitchen to brew some coffee. If I was going to be staying awake, I needed a boost.
“Well, what’s the deal? You look like someone kicked your dog,” she asked in an exasperated tone, following me in and taking a seat at one of our barstools.
“My parents’ funeral is today,” I answered quietly, deciding to just rip of the metaphorical band-aid. If she was staying, she’d have to know eventually. I didn’t think I’d be able to keep it together for long.
She was silent behind me, and I gave her a minute to let the news sink in before turning around to face her. By the time I was looking at her again, she’d wiped all surprise off her face but was looking at me with sympathetic eyes.
“A gang in San Diego broke into our house and shot them while I hid in the closet,” I explained, not sure where the verbal diarrhea was coming from, but feeling an immense sense of relief from just saying the words out loud. I hadn’t been keeping it a secret, but it felt like one.
“Dang. Tough break,” she told me seriously, and I couldn’t help the snort that made its way out of my nose. Tough break? God, she was so unflappable.
I think that’s why I’d chosen to tell her. She’d seen pretty much everything while living with her mother.
We spent the day watching movies and eating everything in the house. The movies didn’t keep my mind off what was happening, but the marijuana she’d brought with her did a pretty admirable job. By mutual agreement, we didn’t discuss my situation with Asa. She had to have been really curious, but she didn’t ask. I think she was used to not being able to ask questions about things—living occasionally with her Ace quasi stepdad made sure of that.
However, by the afternoon, I was dying to discuss stuff with her. I wanted to know her opinion on everything—my relationship, the weird living arrangement, and Asa’s job.
“So, he just… claimed you and then moved your ass up here?” she asked lazily, rolling her head against the back of the couch until she was looking at me.
“Yup. Just like that,” I replied, trying and failing to snap my fingers in emphasis.
“Yeah, he f*cked up.” She nodded slowly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I gasped, offended.
“Not about you, idiot.” She waved her hands in front of her. “He never shoulda left you down there in the first place. He shoulda made sure you were safe first.”
“Well…” I paused, thinking over her words and then answering strongly, “he couldn’t have known what would happen.”
She watched me closely for a few seconds and then turned her face back toward the TV.
“Sure. You’re right,” she stated, already focusing on the movie.
“Do you think it’s weird, me living here and him just coming to visit once in a while—even though he’s paying for everything?” I asked, pulling her attention back to me.
“I wouldn’t know. I mean, we only see Gator once in a while… but he’s got a wife,” she replied distractedly, not realizing that each word she spoke was like a slap in the face.
I took a minute to control my facial expression, fiddling with the blanket I’d dragged off my bed to cuddle with. I didn’t want her to see that I felt like shit at her comment. Did Asa have a wife? He seemed too young for it, but he could easily have a girlfriend in Eugene. Or… an old lady. That’s what the guys had called their significant others when they’d visited.
There wasn’t any way to become emotional without making it seem like I thought Farrah’s mom was a slut, so I made myself think of other things.
“Your mom’s boyfriend is named Gator?” I asked her, with a small laugh.
“Yeah, how f*cking stupid is that?”
A few hours later, she had to leave to take her car home so her mom could drive to work. I wasn’t sure what her mom did for a living, but I’d seen her once before and I wouldn’t have been surprised if she was a stripper. The fact that Farrah stayed home alone most nights made me feel even more connected to her. We were two teenage girls that had to play grown-up every day when school got out, and knowing that she was living a similar life made me feel less alone.
I straightened up the house a little and made myself a pizza pocket while I waited for and dreaded my nightly phone calls. Gram called every night if I hadn’t called her by eight o’clock. It was reassuring to know that she was checking up on me, but that night I was on pins and needles waiting for my phone to ring.
For the first time since I’d moved, I didn’t want to talk to her.
When she finally called, my phone startled me by vibrating on the kitchen counter. I walked over to check the caller ID, but didn’t even pick it up. I was afraid that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from answering, just to hear her voice. If it had been any other night, I would have relished the phone call. But, I knew if I picked up the phone I’d be able to hear the grief in her voice and I didn’t think I could handle it. So I just stood there, staring at it until it stopped vibrating, not even checking the voicemail that she’d left.
As I got ready for bed, I carried my phone around with me. I was planning on avoiding Asa’s call, too, but oddly I didn’t want to miss it. I was too raw, and I was picturing him in Oregon with a whole other family, my imagination running wild. I didn’t think I’d be able to talk to him although I wanted to hear his voice just as badly as my Gram’s.
It wasn’t until I was in bed, surrounded by the comfort of my blankets, that I worked up the courage to listen to Gram’s voicemail.
Hey, baby girl. I’m sure you’re having a hell of a day… just text me and let me know you’re all right. Okay? I can’t figure out this damn phone to text you back, but I’ll be able to see if you send me one. If you don’t, I’m gonna worry… I dropped your brother at the airport this afternoon and he seemed okay—but you might want to call him in the morning. He’s missing you like crazy… Okay, well, I’m gonna get off of here. I’ll be heading out bright and early in the morning—so I should be up there around dinner time. I love you, Callie Rose.
I listened to her voicemail twice before pulling the phone away from my face and texting her that I loved her. It felt like years since I’d seen her, and I couldn’t wait for her to get there the next day. I even giggled a bit at her complaints about not being able to work her cell phone.
As I lay awake that night, listening to the sounds of the apartments around mine, I felt calmer than I had in days. I’d successfully made it through one of the hardest days of my life.
But when I finally drifted off to sleep, my heart ached.
And Asa never called.