She doesn't answer, but I hear her sniffling. She's crying again. Dammit. I didn't want our conversation to end this way. I was hoping she'd open up to me after I told her about Becky. Callie and I both lost people we love, and that should bring us closer, not farther apart. I'm someone she should be able to talk to about this. I've been there. I understand. It's been years since I lost Becky, but I still miss her every day and wonder what she'd be doing if she were alive. And I miss my mom. Within just a few years, I lost two of the most important people in my life, so I understand loss. I lived it, and still struggle with it sometimes.
I hear meowing and look back and see Cat coming out of the bedroom behind me. The door is open just a sliver but I go over and open it and see a twin bed covered in little kid bedding with cartoon footballs and basketballs printed on it. Stuffed dinosaurs are piled up in the corner of the room. And toy cars are lined up on top of the dresser like a kid had just been playing with them but then left to go do something else.
This room hasn't changed since her little brother died. The living room hasn't either. All her family's things are still out like they left them. Callie hasn't packed them away. She's living in the past. Waiting for them to return.
Cat comes up to me and rubs against my leg, then sits by my feet. I pet him quick, then focus back on Callie.
I knock on her door. "Callie, open the door."
She doesn't answer. I try again and she still doesn't answer, so I turn to leave but then stop, deciding to tell her the rest of the story about Becky. I don't want to do it because it hurts so much to even say the words out loud, but maybe in some way, they'll help Callie.
"There's something else I didn't tell you," I say, leaning against Callie's door. "About Becky. It's something I've only told my dad, but as long as I'm telling you everything, I might as well tell you this." I take a breath. "The day Becky died, I was supposed to take her to work. She worked at the mall a few hours a week. She didn't have a car but I did, so I always drove her wherever she needed to go. But that day...I didn't. Becky and I had been fighting because she was dating this guy who I knew was no good for her. They'd only been out a few times but he slept around and I knew he'd cheat on her. And I didn't want her ever getting on his motorcycle. When I didn't show up to take her to work that day, she called me and I told her we can't be friends if she was going to keep dating that loser. I didn't mean it. It was just something I said to get her away from him. She said we'd talk about it later, then asked if I'd please take her to work because she didn't want to be late. I told her to have her mom take her and then I hung up on her. Turns out her mom was out of town that day and her dad was at work. So she got a ride from that guy. On his motorcycle." I drop my head, pinching the bridge of my nose. "I blame myself for her death. My dad's told me a million times that it wasn't my fault, and I've tried to accept that, but the truth is Becky would still be alive if I'd just taken her to work like she asked. And I live with that guilt every day. So like I told you before, we all have issues, Callie. You're not the only one."
There's nothing but silence on the other side of the door. She's not going to talk to me. She's going to hide out in this house like she did before we met.
Cat is meowing at my feet. I pick him up and get an idea.
"I'm taking your cat," I tell her. "If you want him, you'll have to come over to my house and get him."
Chapter Twenty-One
Callie
He took my cat? What the hell? Who takes someone's cat? I shove my bedroom drapes aside and see him walking across my lawn holding Cat, along with his food dish and a bag of cat food. He's really taking my cat!
He doesn't really want Cat. He's only doing this to lure me over there. So what am I going to do? Should I go over there? Take Cat and then leave? Or should I keep working for him? I don't feel right just quitting on him, but if I keep working for him, he'll keep trying to get me to talk, and I have nothing to say. My family is dead and how I deal with their death is none of Nash's business. He doesn't need to help me or save me or get me to talk. What we have together isn't going to last. Before I know it, the summer will be over and he'll be gone.
I don't want him to go. It'll be just another loss I'll have to get over, which is why I haven't taken our relationship any farther, or defined it, or given it a name. He's not my boyfriend. He shouldn't even be my friend. I have nothing to offer him. And yet he still wants to help me, because for some reason, he cares about me.
I care about him too. My heart ached for him when he told me about Becky. He carries that guilt with him every day, just like I carry the guilt over not being with my family the day they died. Why am I here and they're not? It's not fair. I don't understand it, and that's what keeps me in the same dark place, unable to move forward.