Chapter 13
#153 Help Someone Even When They Don’t Necessarily Ask For Help.
Callie
The next few weeks go by in a blur of fall leaves, midterms, and football games. Before I know it, Thanksgiving is approaching. Kayden and I haven’t gotten a place of our own yet, nor have we really talked about it since that night. However, he does seem to be doing a lot better after we spent time reliving some of our past moments, and that’s really all that matters, right?
I also haven’t noticed any fresh cuts on his skin and he hasn’t gotten upset over anything with his family, so things are going pretty smoothly. Then again, I don’t think much has happened other than Dylan calling to check in and to see if Kayden is planning on going out there for Thanksgiving break.
‘So have you decided what you’re going to do yet?’ I ask Kayden. He stopped by my dorm after football practice when I was in the middle of folding my laundry. There are piles of clothes on the bed and I’m still working on the pile in the basket. By the time I get finished, they’ll probably be more to clean and fold.
Kayden is lying on the floor, since there’s no room anywhere else, throwing a football up in the air and catching it. ‘About Thanksgiving?’
I nod, folding a shirt and adding it to a stack near the foot of the bed. ‘I was just wondering if you decided whether you’re going to go to Virginia or not.’ It’s a sensitive subject, so I keep my voice light.
He tosses the football in the air and catches it before he responds. ‘What do you think I should do?’ he asks, tipping his head back to look at me.
I grab a pair of jeans from the basket. ‘Kayden, I don’t really think I should make that choice for you.’
‘Yeah, I guess I worded that wrong.’ He sets the football down and rolls to his side so he can easily look at me. ‘I just meant … I mean, what are you doing?’
‘For Thanksgiving?’ I shrug as I fold the jeans. ‘Going home. You know how my mom is with holidays. She’d be super upset if I didn’t come home. You can come with me, though, if you don’t want to go to Virginia.’
He bobs his head up and down, contemplating something. ‘Yeah, I don’t think I’m up for going back home really.’ He seems guilty about it, which he shouldn’t be.
‘You don’t have to think of it as going home. Just visiting my family for Thanksgiving.’
‘Yeah, but not thinking of it as home is part of the problem because it never really was.’ He flips on his stomach and pushes himself up to his feet, his grey T-shirt riding up just enough for me to see a little bit of his firm stomach. ‘And, I think I want to find some sort of place that I can call home.’ He wavers. ‘So I think maybe I should go to Virginia and try out this whole holiday thing with Dylan. I mean, he hasn’t brought up anything about my mom or dad lately, so I should be okay. I think, maybe it’s a good idea. And besides, I think it’s time I tried to handle that stuff.’ He glances at the healing scar on his wrist. ‘So that I don’t slip up again.’
I feel a ping of sadness in my stomach at the idea of spending a week away from him. Plus, there’d be almost a country’s worth of distance between us. Yet, I know those are both selfish reasons and in the end, it would be really nice for him to be able to get along with Dylan, especially if he wants to.
‘If you feel like you should go to Virginia, then you should go to Virginia.’ I collect a stack of jeans to put in the dresser. ‘It’d be good for you to get to know Dylan and maybe even Tyler if he’s going to be there and you think you want to see him.’
‘He’s still in rehab.’ He scoops up the football from the floor as I open the drawer and put the clothes in. ‘But I might get to see him. I think anyway.’
‘Good.’ Mustering up my best smile, I turn to face him. I am happy for him and everything, but I just hope it goes well for him. I worry. ‘I’ll miss you, though.’
‘You could always come with me,’ he says with hope as he clutches onto the football.
‘I wish I could, but I already told my mom I’d come home. Plus, Jackson’s going to be there and I haven’t seen him since Spring Break. And I made a number on the list to try to have a better relationship with him.’ I point at my door where the whiteboard with the to-do list usually is, but furrow my brow when I realize it’s gone.
‘What on earth. Where’s my list?’ I glance at Kayden. ‘Was it here when you came over today?’
He shrugs, rotating the football in his hand. ‘I have no idea.’
I scratch my head. ‘Maybe Seth took it for some reason.’ I start to reach for my phone. ‘I should call him and ask.’
‘But anyway,’ Kayden says, clearly cutting me off, ‘that’s good you’re trying to patch things up with your brother.’ He grabs my hand as I give him a questioning look. ‘I know that’s been hard for you, considering Caleb was his best friend.’
I decide to ignore his weird sidetracking thing – for now anyway – but I will get to the bottom of it.
‘He’s been really nice since I finally told him what happened,’ I say as Kayden gives my arm a tug and lures me toward him. ‘I don’t want to be mad at him anymore. It was too exhausting and there’s no point in holding grudges.’
The corner of his lips tip to a half smile. ‘You always say stuff that I feel applies to me.’
‘Oh, that’s not what I meant,’ I begin to protest as our bodies greet each other. ‘What happened between Jackson and me isn’t the same as what your father and mother did to you. At all.’ I feel horrible for what I said. Kayden should be able to hold a grudge against his father and mother, forever in my opinion. After his father stabbed him and nearly killed him – stuff like that just doesn’t erase. The large scar on Kayden’s side proves that.
‘Callie, relax. I know you weren’t referring to me.’ He gently tugs on a loose strand of my hair. ‘I was just teasing you.’
I assess him carefully. He seems like he’s being honest and looks almost happy. ‘You seem in a good mood. What’s up?’
He rolls his tongue in his mouth to keep from smiling. ‘It’s nothing. I’m just happy I’m here with you.’
I tip my head and study him suspiciously. ‘No, something’s up. You’re like super happy and you just purposely sidetracked me from the fact that the list is missing from the door.’
‘Okay, maybe there is something on.’ He’s so cute, trying to restrain a grin. ‘But I can’t tell you right now.’
‘Is it bad?’
‘No. It’s good, I think.’ He’s totally enjoying this.
‘Okay, now I really want to know.’ I pout out my lip. ‘Please.’
Chuckling under his breath, he reaches up and touches my bottom lip with his fingertip. ‘That trick’s not going to work on me.’
‘What trick?’ I ask innocently.
He gives me a look. ‘Are you trying to tell me that you don’t purposefully pout your lip out when you’re trying to get your way?’ he asks and I get a guilty look on my face. ‘Yeah, see. I can read you just as well as you can read me.’ He winks at me then pulls me in for a kiss, dropping the football to the floor. Our tongues instantly tangle and within seconds he’s picking me up and carrying me toward the bed.
I have every intention of pulling off his clothes and re-experiencing the moment we shared in the car a few weeks ago, but then the door swings open and Harper comes walking in.
‘Oh shit.’ She halts in the doorway when she spots us on the bed, legs entwined, bodies pressed together, hands all over each other – thankfully no one’s clothes have come off.
‘Sorry,’ I apologize, sitting up while Kayden remains lying down, his fingers sketching up and down my back. ‘We were just …’ How am I supposed to finish that sentence? We were just about to have hot, sweaty sex? Yeah, that sentence is not coming out of my mouth.
Harper dithers in the doorway, hugging her books to her chest. ‘I can come back.’
I shake my head and hop off my bed. ‘No, it’s okay. I needed to run to the store anyway.’ I reach for my jacket as Kayden begrudgingly gets off the bed and picks up his football.
‘Hey, could you by chance pick up a roll of tape for me?’ Harper asks as she drops her books onto the bed. ‘I ran out last night.’
I nod. ‘Sure.’
‘Thanks.’ She forces a smile as she starts to unbutton her jacket. ‘Actually, Callie, before you leave … could I talk to you?’ She flicks the last button undone then sets her coat on the bedpost, her eyes flicking to Kayden before they land on me. ‘Alone maybe?’
‘Um, yeah, sure.’ I turn to Kayden who shoots me a puzzled look. ‘Can I meet you out in the car?’
He nods warily. ‘Sure.’ He softly kisses my forehead then glances at Harper before walking out the door. Once it clicks shut, I face Harper. ‘So what’s up?’
‘It’s nothing really.’ But her expression suggests otherwise as she sinks down on the bed, her shoulders slumped. ‘Honestly, I don’t know how to bring it up without you getting mad.’
‘I won’t get mad.’ I don’t know what else to say, since I don’t know where this is going.
Sighing, she fiddles with a strand of her hair, twisting it around her finger. ‘The other day I overheard you and Seth talk about stuff.’ She’s staring at her hair, completely fixated on it. ‘About something that happened to you.’
‘I’m not sure what you mean.’ I sit down on my bed so we’re facing each other. ‘Seth and I have said a lot of things,’ I tell her and then try to make a joke because she looks so sad. ‘Particularly Seth. He loves to talk.’
A tiny smile rises on her lips, but her eyes still seem filled with sadness as she looks up at me. ‘Well, it was the other day. I think you guys thought I had my headphones on and was listening to music, but I was actually trying to find something to listen to so I heard a little bit of your conversation … about a guy doing stuff to you.’ She winces as she says it, and even though I’m used to talking about this aloud, I still wince myself.
‘Yeah …’ Again, I’m unsure of what to say.
‘Sorry,’ she says quickly. ‘I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m saying this and the truth is … well, the truth is I heard you say something about how you were feeling a lot better and that you have been since you talked to your parents about it. I was kind of wondering’ – her gaze drops to the space on the floor between our feet – ‘how you went about that.’
‘Telling my parents that I was … raped?’ It’s still so hard to say aloud, even though I’ve been openly talking about it for a while.
Again, she winces. ‘Yeah … that.’ She looks up at me and although she doesn’t say anything about it, I think I suddenly understand why she’s bringing this up. I know that pained look she’s trying to keep trapped inside her because I did the same thing for years.
I’m not sure if I should ask her yet if she was raped. Stuff like this can be tricky – getting someone to tell the truth can be tricky. I should know since it took me almost seven years of carrying around this dark heaviness inside me, afraid to let it out because I was afraid of what people would think of me and honestly, I was afraid of Caleb, too.
‘You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.’ Harper’s words rush out of her. Right now, she seems like a completely different person, but that’s because she’s vulnerable and scared.
‘No, it’s okay.’ I lift my shoulders to build up some confidence. ‘When it came to telling my parents, I just sort of sat them down and told them. There’s really not a right or easy way to do it, other than to do it. I do think that getting to the point where you decide you’re going to tell someone is the hardest part, though.’
‘Did you struggle with it?’ she asks. ‘I mean, with getting up the courage to tell someone.’
I suck in a gradual inhale through my nose to keep the emotions inside me so I won’t freak her out. ‘Yeah, it took me almost seven years.’
Her eyes snap wide. ‘How old were you when it happened?’
‘Twelve.’
‘Jesus, Callie, that’s horrible.’
‘Yeah, it was, but I’m trying to move on.’ I pause, wondering if it’s the right time to ask her something yet, but then I realize that there might not be a right time and I just have to do it. ‘How old were you?’
She sighs, her shoulders slumping. ‘Is it that obvious why I’m asking all this?’
‘It might not be for someone else, but you have this look on your face right now that I’m kind of familiar with.’
‘And what look is that?’
‘Fear … pain.’
We exchange a look of understanding. I’ve always known that what happened to me has happened to other people, but I’ve never really discussed it with anyone who’s had to live through the hellish experience.
‘I feel those things,’ she says quietly, her eyes getting watery. ‘I hate that I do, though. Everyone thinks I’m so happy because that’s what I show them, but I’m not as happy as I seem.’
‘Everyone thought I was crazy,’ I tell her. ‘But I did chop off my hair with a pair of scissors and stop talking to people.’