It was easier to think of my Zach and this Zach, the cold cruel boy with arrogance in his eyes and hatred in his heart, as two completely different people.
“So Joel was asking about you again,” Josie said, pulling me from my thoughts. “Total double standards if you ask me.”
Panic swelled inside me. “He doesn’t know who I am though, right?”
“I haven’t told him, if that’s what you mean.” Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “What’s up with that by the way?”
“I told you... it’s complicated.” Clearly Callum didn’t want his teammates to know about me, and I was happy avoiding all the awkward questions.
I knew it would come out eventually.
Secrets always did.
But for now, I wanted to keep my anonymity. I wanted to keep things simple.
We reached the Arts Department and Josie ground to a halt, turning to me. “I know we’ve only known each other a few days, and I know that I’m Joel’s sister and he’s on the team, but I want you to know you can trust me, Calli. I can keep a secret and I think I’m a pretty good listener. So if you ever need to talk...”
“Thanks, that means a lot. It isn’t that I’m trying to be all secretive, it’s just...” I searched for the right word, but Josie beat me to it.
“Families are complicated.”
“Oh yeah, you don’t need to tell me.” My heart cinched.
“Ready?” She glanced at the building.
“As I’ll ever be.” Butterflies beat wildly in my stomach. This was it… college.
“I’ll be done at one, so we can meet and head to Muds?”
“Sounds good.”
“Good luck.”
“You too.” I watched Josie take off toward her building. She was majoring in psychology. I’d always had my heart set on SU’s BA in photography, but then Mom got sick and everything changed, so I’d changed my major to undeclared. I was taking some arts and literature classes. I didn’t want to put pressure on myself to pick up a camera before I was ready.
If I was ever ready again.
My first class of the semester was Nineteenth Century Literature with Professor Harold. I was particularly looking forward to that class since it studied some of the literary greats. I found the room and slipped inside. It was a small theatre style layout with the rows of seats all facing down toward the stage.
Finding an empty seat, I pulled out my notepad and pencil case, a rush of melancholy washing over me. Mom had helped me pick it out. It was a hotchpotch of Alice in Wonderland inspired fabric patches stitched together, and embroidered across the front was the quote, ‘we’re all mad here’.
It had become one of my favorite books while Mom was sick. We’d read it together, and then when she got too sick, I’d watched the movie on repeat, curled up in the chair by her bedside. It was the perfect fantastical escape while watching her deteriorate. She liked the Cheshire Cat with his knowing grin and impossible riddles. I liked Alice with her innocence and wild curiosity. There was something beautiful about the way she embraced the rest of the characters, regardless of their quirks and traits. She accepted them for who they were and the things they loved.
My stomach knotted. Even as a young girl, Alice was everything I wasn’t. Adventurous to my cautionary, curious to my introverted.
“Calli?”
I looked up to find Joel smiling down at me. “Um, hi,” I glanced around, confused, and he chuckled.
“This is Harold’s class?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m in the right place then. Can I?” He motioned to the empty desk beside me.
“Sure. I didn’t know you were taking this class.”
“It’s an elective, I... uh, I have a thing for nineteenth century writers.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “But don’t tell anyone, I have a rep to protect.”
“Your secret is safe with me.” I chuckled.
“And what about your secrets, Calli? Will you trust me with those?” My brows knitted and Joel’s smile slipped. “Joke. I’m joking. Wow.” He pulled his t-shirt at the collar, inhaling a shaky breath. “I really need to work on my game.”
“This is your game?” I teased, and he blanched. “Relax, I’m joking.” Laughter bubbled in my chest.
“Maybe I should go out and come back in and we can start over?”
“Hi, I’m Calli.” I played along.
“Joel. It’s nice to meet you. So you like nineteenth century writers?”
“Oh yeah, they’re my dirty little secret.”
The words just fell out. Joel blinked at me and my cheeks pinked. “I... uh... okay, that came out all wrong.”
“Don’t sweat it, Calli.” He gave me a shy smile. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Joel made it so easy. I didn’t know what it was about him, but there was something.
Those Molineux sure had good genes.
“So how are you enjoying SU so far?”
“It’s okay.” I didn’t meet his eyes.
“Okay? You can’t be doing it right if it’s only okay.” He chuckled quietly, nudging my shoulder, and I finally lifted my gaze to his. “We should go out sometime. I know all the best places.”
“Joel, I—”
“Ouch,” he let out a small hiss, “not the dreaded it’s not you, it’s me speech.”
“I’m just not looking for… that.”
“Whoa, there. It’s just coffee, maybe dinner. I’m not proposing or anything. I wait until at least the third date for that.”
“You’re such a goofball.”
A really good looking goofball with defined biceps and broad shoulders, and he was tall in that way most basketball players were. But most of all, Joel wasn’t angry, and he didn’t look at me with hate in his eyes. It was refreshing. Nice.
It felt safe.
“I’m Josie’s friend.”
“Yeah, I know.” He grimaced. “But I saw you first, that should at least count for something, right?” His grin was infectious, and I found myself smiling back.
“I don’t know.” Because I had secrets, the kind that could make things complicated.
I was Callum’s sister.
If he knew that, he wouldn’t look twice at me. Or maybe he would, but he wouldn’t break his own rule.
I needed to tell him.
I needed to come clean and stop this before it spiraled into something I couldn’t fix.
But as I opened my mouth to confess, to ask him to keep my secret, Professor Harold appeared, and silence fell over the room. “Good morning, students, and welcome to Nineteenth Century Literature.”
I peeked over at Joel and he winked. I let out an internal groan. He wasn’t going to give up, it was right there in his eyes. He was going to fight me on this.
Fight for me.
It was the last thing I needed, but I couldn’t deny it felt nice.
It felt nice to not be Callum James’ little sister. Because when I was, everything would change. And I knew he’d probably never look twice at me if he knew just how deep my secrets ran.
“Okay, what’s going on here?” Josie wagged her finger between me and her brother as she reached us.