‘And I can’t believe you called me.’ I get up from the bed and start pacing the room, trying to channel my adrenaline in the healthiest way I can think of. I will not give in. I won’t. ‘Dylan could have given me the update.’
‘Update? I can’t believe you just called your father’s death an update.’ She’s verging toward crying. I should feel bad, but I can’t find the will to bring that emotion out of me for her. ‘After everything he did for you; put you into sports, put a roof over your head, bought you all the things you needed.’
‘There’s so much more to life than materialism, Mother. And so much more to being a parent than buying your children the shit they need, like, say, loving them and not beating them up or stabbing them.’
‘I didn’t do any of those things.’ She tries to sound calm, but I can tell she’s crying, almost losing it completely, which is something I’ve never seen or heard her do before.
I should stop.
I should care enough to stop.
But I don’t.
‘No, you just let it happen,’ I say through gritted teeth, ‘which is just as bad.’
‘We are not bad parents!’ she cries hysterically, shocking me because I honestly didn’t think she possessed emotion. ‘We’re not …’ The last part sounds like she’s trying to convince herself, not me.
I can’t take it anymore. Bad mother or not, I don’t want to be the kind of person to bring others pain. Don’t want to be like them. Don’t want to carry this heaviness in me anymore. I want to let it go – be free. So I make a choice, one that will hopefully set me free.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘For saying all those things …’ Even though they’re true.
‘Good. Now, let’s talk about your father’s funeral and what you can help me with.’
I stop pacing. ‘No.’
‘What?’ She sounds shocked.
‘I’m not helping you with any of that.’
‘But he’s your father …’ That’s the best argument she can come up with and it’s sad. ‘And you just said you were sorry.’
‘Yeah, for saying hateful things,’ I say, breathing through the pain tearing at my chest, through the tears starting to fall. I’m letting go – accepting what is. I can feel myself on the edge of it. But the thing is, I’m letting go of a lot and I’m worried I’m going to explode when I finally say goodbye to it all – the hate, the pain, the resentment. ‘But not for feeling the way that I do. I’ll never be sorry for that, nor will I help with his funeral.’
‘So you’re not coming.’ She’s still crying, but she sounds angry.
‘I might, but I’m not sure yet.’ I stand up and grab my car keys and jacket before heading out of the room. ‘You can give Dylan the details and then he can pass them along to me.’
‘You’re a terrible son.’
The only things that keep me from listing off the terrible things she is, are 1) She’s hurting and even though I despise her, I don’t want to be that person. And 2) It doesn’t matter; she’s my past if I choose to let her be.
And I think I do.
‘That’s your opinion’ – I jerk open the front door, telling myself to keep breathing, to keep doing what I’m doing. Moving forward … move forward … one step at a time – ‘and I can live with that.’ I make another choice and hang up, not giving her any more room to insult me or make me angry.
I head for my car and then in the direction of quite possibly the best choice I have ever made.
Chapter 24
#166 Hold Someone While They Let it All Out.
Callie
We finish up the Thanksgiving break by snowboarding and going out before Jackson returns home. Then Kayden and I get to spend some time together – finally – in our new home.
I still visit Harper a couple of times to make sure everything’s going okay with therapy. She seems a little less fake and a bit more real, so when she tells me it’s going good, I believe her. It makes me happy that I got to help her with that, almost as if it was a healing process I didn’t even know about.
School goes on. Football goes on. Writing goes on. Life goes on. The next week goes by pretty uneventful. But the thing that Kayden and I both knew was coming finally arrives, smack dab in the middle of finals. I’m actually finishing up a test in Oceanography when I get a call from Kayden. I only know it’s him because of the ringtone, but I can’t answer it if I don’t want to get accused of cheating.
I hurry and finish up the last of the questions then grab my bag and rush out of the classroom, tossing the exam on the teacher’s desk as I go by. As soon as I’m out into the fairly empty hallway, I dig my phone out of my pocket and call him back.
‘Hey, what’s up?’ I ask when he answers it.
He takes a deep breath and immediately I know whatever he called for has to be bad. ‘It’s my dad. He’s dead.’
‘I’ll be right there,’ I say, practically running toward the exit doors at the end of the hallway. All I can picture is him locked in the bathroom with a razor in his hand. ‘Are you at home?’
‘No, I’m actually in the parking lot.’ Emotion surfaces through his voice, cracking down the line, and I swear I can actually feel it. ‘I needed to see you so I’ve been sitting out here waiting for you to get out of class.’
‘I’m coming.’ I burst out the doors and sprint across the snow, grasping onto my bag. ‘Where are you parked exactly?’
‘At the front.’ There’s a vulnerability to his voice, like he’s fighting not to break apart before I get there.
I scan the parking lot and when I spot his car, I veer right, not slowing down until I reach it. I throw open the door and jump in. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat, staring ahead at the campus quad, his jaw set tight, as his chest rises and crashes. He has on his pajama pants and a hoodie which means he probably left the house in a hurry.
The warm air kisses my skin, but the silence of him chills my heart. I’m not sure what to say – if there’s anything I can say. What the heck does one say to someone in this type of situation?
I’m sorry.
That you lost your dad.
Lost the monster in your life.
That you’re hurting.
That you’re confused.
That you have to go through this.
‘I love you.’ It’s all I can think of and it seems to be exactly what he needs to hear because he turns to me, eyes soft as he leans over and wraps his arms around me, pulling me to him. My stomach presses into the console, but I still give in as he hugs me closer, almost in desperation.
‘I love you, too,’ he whispers with his head buried in my neck. ‘God, I fucking love you. And really, that’s all that matters.’ I can feel the exact moment when he starts to cry, not because I can feel his tears or even hear him. I can feel it because of how tight his hold on me gets, like every one of his muscles is forcing the emotion out of him.
I wrap my arms around him and run my fingers through his hair, remaining quiet while he cries because there’s not much more I can do. He needs to get it out and I’m glad he is. It’s when he holds it in that things become a problem.
I’m not even sure how long we sit there like that, well into the evening, but I don’t dare move, afraid he’ll suck all the emotion back inside himself and trap it there.
By the time he pulls away, the sky has cleared, but the sun is lowering behind the mountains, casting its orange neon glow against the snow on the ground. There are hardly any people left on campus and the parking lot is nearly vacant.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask as he wipes his bloodshot eyes with the back of his hand.
‘Yeah, sorry about that.’ His voice is hoarse ‘I just lost it for a second.’
‘You know, it’s okay to lose it,’ I say, reaching over to wipe away a few tears remaining. I’m about to pull away when he leans into my touch so I keep my hand there. ‘And it’s okay to cry.’
‘I know it is,??
? he says, letting out a heavy exhale. ‘And I think I needed to do it – let it all out. I’ve needed to for the last twenty years.’
There’s a pause and I’m about to ask if he wants to talk about it when he leans back in the seat, facing forward then puts the car into reverse. ‘I know you have questions,’ he says as I buckle my seatbelt. ‘And I’ll answer them, but I just want to be home when I do, if that’s okay?’
I nod, turning forward in my own seat. ‘Of course that’s okay.’
He looks relieved as he pulls out of the parking lot and onto the street. On our way back to the apartment, we stop to pick up some takeout because neither one of us is great at – nor do we enjoy – cooking. Then we settle on the sofa with our hamburgers, fries, and drinks, and eat in silence even though it just about drives me crazy.
‘It was my mother who called,’ he finally says as he picks up his drink and fiddles with his straw. ‘She found out my number and called to tell me herself.’
‘Was she …?’ I pick at my hamburger. ‘Was she nice?’
He shakes his head as he takes a sip of his drink. ‘No, she was exactly herself.’
Okay, now I’m really worried. ‘Kayden, I—’
He cuts me off by leaning forward and brushing his lips across mine. When he pulls away, he seems content. ‘I’m fine, Callie. I promise.’ As if to prove this point, he sets his food down and takes my hand in his. ‘I got to tell her a lot of stuff I never had the balls to and then I realized that I was done.’
‘Done?’
‘With all of it. With her. With hating both of them. With letting them still affect my life even when they’re not here.’ He takes my food from my hand, sets it down on the coffee table, and scoots toward me until our knees touch. ‘I’m going to let it go.’ Determination pours from his eyes and overpowers me to the point I feel like I’m drowning in it – the pain he’s releasing himself from. ‘I’m going to focus on the future. Keep going to school and play my fucking heart out and hope I get drafted. And if I don’t, I’ll have my degree to fall back on.’ He reaches for me, tucking strands of hair behind my ear, before placing his warm palm on my cheek. ‘And I’m going to take care of you and make you so happy.’ Emotion radiates through his eyes as his gaze steadily holds mine. ‘I want to keep going down this path with you. I want us to have a future – you and me.’
Maybe Jackson was right. Maybe we are headed in the direction of marriage. God, what if we are? Do I want it?
I nod eagerly. ‘I want that, too, more than anything else.’ I pause, ‘But …’
His brows knit, his confidence faltering a bit. ‘But what?’
‘But …’ I hesitate again, nervous to bring it up. ‘But what about the funeral? Are you …? Are you going to go to it?’
‘I’m not sure yet.’ He’s not angry or sad, just confused.
‘Well, either way, I support you.’ I turn my head and delicately kiss his palm. ‘I’m here for you if you want to go and say goodbye. Get some closure, maybe.’
His eyes are soft, his expression full of nothing but love. ‘I know you are.’ It’s within that moment I think I realize that we’re going to be okay. Sure, they’ll probably be bumps down the road for us – there always will be when it comes to life – but he’s finally letting me love him like he deserves and that’s a huge, epic step for us.
Life-changing even.
The rest of the night is relaxing, falling into our routine. We eat. We talk. Then after Kayden falls asleep in bed, I write.
I’m starting to love our routine.
As soon as my fingers hit the keys, they come alive, eager to write and be free.
After the girl saved the boy, they didn’t see each other for many sunrises and sunsets. Not because they chose to, but because they’d gone their separate ways and done their separate things, which is the case most of the time in life.
The girl had moved out of her palace and found a new place to live – a new life for herself where she wasn’t constantly haunted by the memories of the monster. She actually felt happier than she had in a long time, partly because she’s been able to leave her past behind, but also because the night she saved the boy, something changed inside her. She’d stood up to a monster and even though it wasn’t her own, it made her feel braver and less fearful in a world that seemed so scary all the time.
And the boy … well, she didn’t know what had become of the boy, if he’d escaped the monster or not, but she hoped so. Hoped he was moving on like her.
Hoped he found happiness in those sad eyes of his.
It was during a warm fall day that she found out what he’d been doing. Their reuniting was anything but magical, but it was still momentous, a literal crashing-into when they just happened to be in the same place at the same time.
Smack.
They ran into each other head on, the impact intense, but not as intense as seeing each other again.
They were in shock.
Stunned.
Breathless.
But most of all, they were just glad to see each other alive and breathing.
‘Hey,’ the girl said as the wind and leaves danced around them.
‘Hey,’ the boy replied back, looking better than he had before. His eyes, although they still carried sadness, also carried happiness.
Their first words weren’t the best of opening lines, not like in the fairytales the girl had read when she was a princess. Stories that promised fantasies of princes sweeping princesses off their feet, wooing hearts with words and sometimes song.
But that was okay.
She didn’t need wooing.
She didn’t need songs.
Because she wasn’t a princess.
And the boy wasn’t a prince.
She was just a girl.
And he was just a guy.
And this wasn’t a fairytale.
But real life.
And fairytales were overrated anyway.
The rest of their conversation was light, cautious, neither of them comfortable enough to bring up that night. They soon parted ways, with a wave and a smile that carried hope they would soon see each other again.
It was not the end for these two.
There was so much more in store for them.
Now that their monsters were out of their lives.
It didn’t start right away – the relationship between the two of them. They had a class together and their conversations were filled with, ‘Can I borrow a pen?’ and ‘Did you go to my game on Friday?’ and ‘You should really go to my game.’
The girl wanted to say more and so did the guy, but it took some time just to work up the courage to take that extra step.
But finally the time came.
‘So I was thinking,’ the guy said one day when they’d run into each other in the hallway. He was standing up straighter these days, more confident now that he wasn’t being beaten down. ‘That we should go out some time.’
‘Like on a date?’ The girl had never been out on a date and she was confused. Yes, they’d talked a little bit to one another and she couldn’t stop thinking about him – her journal was filled with pages of their average encounters and of course the details of his eyes because those were her favorite part – but other than that, they’d seemed like they were going to be friends, which was way better than not being friends. But now, his expression showed signs of something else, as if he’d been trying to fight it, but had given it up and let it free.
I like you, his expression read.
I like you, too, the girl wanted to say.
‘Yeah, on a date.’ He seemed amused by the girl, almost nonchalant about the whole thing, but his eyes promised, I like you a lot.
I like you a lot, too.
‘Okay.’ It was hard for the girl to say, and when the words left her lips, they surprised her.
They surprised the guy, too, as if he’d thought she was going to say no. If she didn’t know any better, she could have sworn they both stood tall
er.
‘Okay then,’ the guy said. ‘I’ll pick you up tonight.’
‘Okay.’
They parted ways, the girl’s head swimming with possibilities.
But could she trust him?
Because in a world full of monsters, it was hard to tell who was what.
Chapter 25
#167 Say Goodbye.
Kayden
It’s not until Dylan calls me the next day I decide to go to the funeral because he says he’s going. Tyler’s not, though, because he was worried it might send him back into a relapse, which I understand. I honestly keep waiting for something to set me off and do the same thing, but I feel strangely okay.
I think Callie’s relieved when I tell her I’m going to the funeral, like she thinks it will give me a sense of closure. I’m not sure if she’s right, but it’s the only chance I’m going to get so I take it.
The funeral is in North Carolina where I just found out my mother grew up, which is why my father and her had been hiding out there – because they knew people. Callie comes with me, thankfully, but we can only stay for two days because finals are going on and there’s no way I’m going to fuck up my grades or hers for this. With the limited time we have there, we mostly just hang out on the beach near our hotel.
And I’m okay with that.
In fact, it’s perfect.
‘I’m starting to become a fan of the ocean,’ Callie says the morning of the funeral. She’s sitting between my legs in the sand, leaning back against my chest, the sun beaming down on us. ‘It’s so peaceful.’
I’m playing with her hair as the water crashes against the shore just a few feet in front of us. ‘Yeah it is.’
She rests her head against me and lets out a contented sigh. ‘We should come here more often.’ She adjusts her sunglasses over her eyes. ‘Well, not to North Carolina, but to the ocean.’
‘We could always live by the ocean,’ I say, putting one arm around her and leaving the other in the sand to support our weight, ‘after we graduate, and maybe I’ll get lucky and get drafted to a team that’s near the coast.’
‘I love hearing you talking about your future.’ She turns her head and nuzzles into me. ‘It always worried me when you wouldn’t.’