The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden (8 page)

I nod, eyeing his phone. “Sure.”

“Hey baby, what’s up?” he answers and I can hear Daisy’s voice on the other end.

“Then don’t say that to them and maybe they won’t get mad.” Kayden pauses. “Yeah, I know. I miss you too. I can’t wait until homecoming…. No, I haven’t got a tux yet.”

A hint of jealousy burns in my heart. When I was younger, I dreamt of going to prom and wearing a pretty dress with lots of sparkles on it. I even wanted a tiara, which seems silly now.

“I love you too.” He says flatly and then quickly hangs up the phone.

My jealousy lifts and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

He tosses the phone onto the seat between us. “That was Daisy… you know Daisy McMillian, right?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“By your tone, I’m guessing you don’t like her.”

“Why would you guess that?”

His hands grip the wheel as his eyes evaluate me. “Because most people don’t.”

“If that’s the case, then why do you date her?” I ask, wondering where the forwardness is coming from.

He shrugs, his jawline rigid. “She’s a nice girlfriend. She keeps me happy for the most part.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m being pushy, aren’t I?” I grip the edge of my seatbelt as he turns onto a dirt road with large potholes and a very sharp drop off on the side of it. It weaves up into the mountains that are green with trees and grass.

“You weren’t being pushy. I was asking you questions first.” He grinds his jaw and his fingers tighten on the wheel.

We’re quiet for the rest of the drive and I can tell something must have upset him. The wheels in his head are turning as his mind sorts through something complex.

A ways up the hill, he cranks the steering wheel to the right and veers the truck toward a turnout. A long ditch sections across the entrance and he gradually slows down. The truck bumps and then slants as he pumps the gas again and ramps back up, jolting us from left to right. When we’re on flat land again, he directs the bumper at the trees and inches it forward until it’s close, then shoves the shifter into park and turns the engine off.

A steep hill slopes up in front of us and there is graffiti on the side of a rock in various colors marking dates, lyrics, poems, and declarations of love. There are other vehicles parked next to us and on the road. People are on the path and up on top of the hill. I’m glad we’re not alone, but don’t like that there are a lot of people. It’s kind of problematic.

He flips the handle and prods the door open with his elbow. “I promise it’s not that far. At least that’s what I’ve been told. If it ends up being intense, just let me know and we can turn back.”

“Okay, I will.” I push my door open and swing my feet out, avoiding a puddle. I meet him around the front of the truck and tuck my hands into my pockets that are lined with soft fabric and the feel of it brings me comfort, because it reminds me of a teddy bear.

We walk up the dirt path and pass by a couple sitting on a boulder in hiking boots with backpacks on. They wave at us and Kayden returns the wave while I stare up at a rock that is stained with paint.

“What is that?” I wonder aloud and read one of the quotes. “
Seize the day, take hold of it, and make it whatever you want
.”

He dodges to the side of the path to avoid a large hole and his shoulder accidentally bumps into mine. “I guess it’s a tradition for the seniors at UW to come up here and write words of wisdom to all future seniors.”

“
Rock on and prosper
.” I glance at him, my lips quirking. “That’s very deep.”

He laughs and lines form around his mouth. “I never said they were all words of wisdom, only that I heard that’s what they are supposed to be.”

I scoot over toward the rocky hill to gain a little distance between us. “It seems like a good idea, kind of. To mark the end with whatever you want.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” He hops over a massive rock, his lengthy legs stretching as he lands on top of it, and then leaps off the other side. He’s panting, smiling, and proud of himself. “It’s kind of like the whole bonfire thing back in Afton, where we write down our thoughts on a piece of paper and then burn it.”

“I never went to that,” I admit, clenching my hands into fists. If I had, I would have been tortured by people whispering that I was a devil worshiper who never ate anything.  Because my hacked job hair, excessive black eyeliner, and antisocial behavior could have only been the work of the devil.

“Oh.” He examines me for a while as I pretend not to notice. “Callie, I’d like to get to know you. I mean, you saved my ass and I barely know anything about you.”

I pluck a leaf off a bush and peel at the waxy edges. “There’s not much to know, really. I’m kind of a boring person.”

“I doubt that’s true.” He kicks a rock over the ledge of the cliff. “How about I’ll tell you something about me and then you can tell me something about you?”

“What kinds of things?”

“Whatever you want.”

We halt as we reach the end of the path. It widens to an area bordered by hills and boulders and there’s an enormous cliff paved by edges that look like stairs. It’s steep, but climbable.

“How do we get up?” I drop the leaf onto the ground and tip my head back to look at the top.

Rubbing his hands together, he grabs a hold of one of the stairs and props his shoe onto the lower one. “We climb up.” With a bounce of his knee, he jumps up, like he’s ascending up a rock wall. Once he’s halfway up, he looks over his shoulder at me. “Are you coming?”

I glance behind me at the path curving down the hill, and then back up at the cliff.
Take a chance for God’s sake.
Even though I’m afraid of heights, I grip the coarse edge, bounce onto my toes, and heave myself up. Positioning each of my feet on a ledge, I maneuver my way up to the next one, getting lightheaded the higher I climb. When I look down, I freeze with the fear of splattering against the rocks below. The wind sneaks through my hair and pieces slip loose from the elastic.

“Are you going to make it?” He stands at the top with his hands on his hips like he’s the king of the world, which would be an awesome job, if it existed.  I could wear a crown and everyone would have to listen to me. If I said stay away, then they would.

I inhale through my nose and move my hand to the next step. “Yeah…” As my fingers slip, I squeeze my eyes tightly and my back bows inward. I’m not going to fall, but it makes me feel helpless and I can’t move.

“Fuck, Callie,” he says. “Give me your hand.”

My fingers snag another ledge and I dig them in as my airflow decreases. Dizziness swarms through my brain and my knees tremble, about to buckle underneath me.

“Callie, open your eyes,” Kayden says in a soft, but commanding voice and I crack an eyelid open. He’s climbed down and his feet are just above my head with his long arm stretched toward me. “Give me your hand and I’ll help you get up.”

I eye his hand like it’s the devil, because that’s what hands can be; they can own you, pin you down, touch you without permission. Biting my lip, I shake my head. “I can do it on my own. I was just thrown off for a moment.”

He sighs and the muscles in his arm relax. “You’re afraid of heights, aren’t you?”

I lean inward until my body is pressed against the jagged rocks. “Slightly.”

“Give me your hand,” he repeats, his voice is soft, but his eyes are demanding. “And I’ll help you to the top.”

The wind increases and dust stings at my cheeks. My body heats with my nerves as I shut my eyes and place my hand into his. Our fingers entwine, a shock zips through my arm, and my eyes lift up to him.

Tightening his grip, Kayden hoist me up, the muscles of his arms flexing until I’m on the next stair. I plant my shoes against it and he gives me a moment before tugging on my arm again and lifting me to the next one. When he reaches the top, he lets go, but only to heave himself up. Then he extends his hand over the ledge and I grab it, trusting him again as he pulls me up. I stumble and my shoes scuff against the dirt as I work to regain my steadiness.

His hand comes around my back and touches me just above the waist to steady me. My body stiffens as a mixture of emotions gust through me. I like that he’s touching me, the gentleness of his fingers, and the warmth of his nearness. But then my mind flashes back to a big hand shoving at my back until I land on a bed.

I whirl around with my eyes amplified as strands of my hair float in front of my face. “Don’t touch me, please.”

“It’s okay,” he says with his hands out in front of him and a cautious look on his face. “I was just helping you get your balance.”

I reach up to secure the elastic in my hair. “I’m sorry… it’s just that… that had nothing to do with you, I swear. I just have issues.”

He lowers his hands to his side and watches me for the longest time. “I don’t want to be pushy, but you seem kind of jumpy. Can I… Do you care if I ask why?”

I aim my gaze to the view over his shoulder. “I’d rather you not.”

“Okay,” he says simply and faces the opening of the cliff.

I move up beside to him, leaving a small gap between us. The hills roll for miles; green, flourishing, dotted with trees and hikers. The blue sky is endless and the sun illuminates through the thin white clouds. There’s a breeze coming upward and also across and as they collide it makes me feel as if I’m flying.

“It kind of reminds me of that painting Mr. Garibaldi had on his wall.” Kayden rubs his scruffy chin thoughtfully.

“The one he was so proud of? And talked about all the time?” I leave my hands at my hips but bring them out a little and put my palms flat as I imagine what it’s like to be a bird, flying up high and free.

He laughs and his head falls forward, his hair falling across his forehead. “Did he tell that story to every class?”

I roll my tongue around in my mouth as I restrain a smile. “I think it was a tradition. It was his way of bragging that there was a time in his life where he wasn’t stuck in a classroom.”

He raises his head back up and exhales gradually. “How long do you want to stay up here?”

I shrug and turn for the ledge. “We can go back, if you want.”

“I don’t want to go back,” he says and I pause. “Unless you do?”

I glance back out at the hills. “I’d like to stay here longer if that’s okay?”

“It’s perfectly okay.” He sits down in the dirt and crosses his legs as he stretches them out in front of him. Then he pats the spot next to him.

I stare at it for a long time before I drop to the ground and cross my legs too. My muscles constrict at the fact that our legs are so close, but I don’t move over.

“I kind of hate football,” he reveals as he pulls one of his legs up and drapes his arm on top of his knee.

“Oh, yeah,” I say, startled. “How come?”

His finger trails along the scar that runs down half his cheekbone. “The violence sometimes gets to me.”

I rest back on the palms of my hands. “I don’t like football either. There’s only one purpose and that’s to dominate.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I get your point. I’m the quarterback, though, so all I really do is throw the ball.”

I drag my pinkie back and forth in the dirt. “I know what position you play and what a quarterback does. My father’s a coach and therefore I got to listen to a recap of every game and practice when we were eating dinner.”

“Your dad’s a nice guy, though,” he states, cutting me a sideways glance. “I like him.”

I know I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t help it. It’s been bothering me for months that I just left him after he’d been beaten up. I never really believed that it was the only time his dad hit him. That much rage doesn’t just come once and then dissolve.

“Kayden, what happened that night? That night I was at your house… and your dad, well, when he hit you. Did that ever happen before?”

“I think it’s your turn to tell me something about you,” he evades the question, his hands balling into fists, and his knuckles are so white the scars on them blend away.