Callie.
I don’t want to go back to that place where I become that person again.
I’m not happier when I do it.
It’s unhealthy, both mentally and physically.
Callie.
I’ll have to start all over again.
My body already has too many scars.
I want to be better.
I need to let go of the past.
Callie.
Callie.
Callie.
That list streams through my head for the entire trip and it keeps me intact and clearly shows what is important to me. By the time I make it to the apartment – to Callie – I’m an emotional wreck, but in a good way.
I don’t really get to talk to Callie very much for the rest of the day, though I’m desperate to. We spend most of the afternoon unloading the truck then take a break in the living room before heading out to get something to eat because everyone is ‘starving to death.’
‘You need some pictures on your wall,’ Jackson says, sitting down on the sofa and glancing around at our bare white walls. He takes off the beanie he’s wearing and tosses it aside. ‘It’d make this place look better.’
‘We’ll get there,’ Callie replies, plopping down on the barstool next to the one I’m sitting on. Luke and Violet are sprawled out on the floor, cheeks red and looking as exhausted as I feel. There are pieces of furniture and boxes everywhere, but it feels like we’ve made progress toward turning this place into a home. ‘I’m still working on getting some up.’
‘I don’t think we have any,’ I say, picking at the label on my water bottle. ‘At least not any of you and me.’
‘You don’t think I’ve taken pictures of you,’ she says, pressing her hand to her chest, feigning being offended.
I manage to peel the damp label off and set it on the counter. ‘You have some of me?’
‘Of us.’ She nudges me with her elbow and smiles. But when I don’t return it, she falters. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s nothing.’ I shrug and say in a low voice so no one else can hear me, ‘It’s just, pictures on a wall? Is that what people do, because we sure as hell didn’t growing up.’ But I can’t help thinking of Dylan’s place and all the pictures they have up on the wall – a life, and a good one. Is that where I’m heading? Can I have that?
It’s crazy that I don’t have to say it, that she can actually see what I’m thinking. ‘It’ll make this place not just an apartment, but a home.’ She leans over and gives me a peck on the lips.
I’m about to pull her in for a deeper kiss, but Jackson clears his throat. ‘Okay, I say it’s time to get some grub.’
Callie sighs against my lips. ‘We’ll talk later.’
I nod and then we all head out and pile into Callie’s dad’s car which is roomier than my car and Luke’s truck. Luke still manages to turn up some classic rock that everyone pretends they don’t know but ends up belting out the lyrics. By the time we hit up a local, mellower bar in town, everyone is laughing, in a good mood, but too exhausted that it takes us forever to make it inside.
‘So much for partying like a rock star,’ Callie jokes to Jackson as we settle into a booth. There’s some alternative music playing in the background and some people dancing. ‘You must be so disappointed in me.’
Jackson reaches for a menu tucked between the salt shakers. ‘Nah, I’m kind of tired myself.’ He flips open the menu. ‘Must be getting old.’
‘You better watch it,’ she teases. ‘You’re one step away from sitting around in your sweat pants on weekends and yelling at the television when your team fumbles the ball.’
‘Hey, I do that sometimes,’ I intervene. ‘Well, minus the sweatpants.’ I flash her a flirty grin and wink. ‘I just do it naked.’
‘Glad to know what I have to look forward to,’ Callie says then winks back at me. It makes me laugh for the first time since I’ve gotten back from Virginia.
‘Good God, please don’t go there,’ Jackson mutters with all his attention on the menu. ‘I really don’t want to hear about what my sister and her boyfriend do behind closed doors.’
‘Sorry, man.’ I actually used to hate Jackson for the way he treated Callie and for bringing Caleb into her life. I still carry a little disdain for him, but Callie seems to have let it go, so I’m trying to be nice. But I want to talk to Callie openly without her brother listening, so I slide to get out of the booth, Luke giving me a begrudging huff of frustration when he has to get out of my way.
‘Where are you going?’ Callie asks as I stand up and stretch my arms above my head, constraining a grin when I notice her checking out the sliver of my stomach that peeks out from the bottom of my red shirt.