“Oh, you’re sitting here? I’ll go inside then.” I start to rise.
“Why? We both live here.”
“You made it very clear I shouldn’t get any ideas about us. Wouldn’t want you sitting beside me being misconstrued as me baiting you,” I bite out, my inner bitch rising to the surface.
Callum rolls his eyes and pins me with them. I can’t help drawing in a breath as one of his wet, raven locks of hair falls onto his forehead. He’s sitting just feet from me, and I can’t help but feel the electricity buzzing between us. It still exists, and I know Callum feels it too.
“Stop being a drama queen.”
“Says the guy who has been sending me mixed signals.” We’re falling back into our old hot and cold pattern.
In some ways, there is hope in the familiarity. In others, I hate it here. I hate being this way, especially with him. I wish we could start fresh, but unfortunately this is life and that’s not the way it works.
“How was your date?” I swallow, wanting anything but to hear the answer.
“It was fine.” Those dark chocolate eyes won’t meet mine.
A sick, satisfied pleasure twists in my gut, because I know he didn’t like her. From just his three words, I can pick up that he didn’t enjoy his date, or the girl he was on it with. It’s telling that he went for a run, which is something he does when his mind is too full and he needs to dispel the thoughts overwhelming him.
“Did you do a five-miler?” I ask.
“Ten.” He kicks his legs up so that his sneakers rest on the railing of the deck.
See? Had a lot on his mind. Hopefully, some of which was that he can never see himself with anyone else and that we should get back together.
“I don’t want to hurt you. Anymore,” he admits, like he did at some point.
I scoff bitterly. “It hurts just looking at you.”
“I guess we’re on the same page then,” Callum mumbles.
My heart thumps, because it’s the first time he’s actually admitting that seeing me makes him feel anything at all.
“This was a horrible idea, moving back in here. Being around you … it’s really fucking hard, Bevan. We were each other’s worlds, and after six years together, it’s really hard to step away from that. I just want us both to be happy.”
This is a far cry from the other day when he was telling me that this was no second chance for us and he couldn’t wait to go his separate way.
“And dating other people.”
“I didn’t see you at the party. Were you out with someone?” His eyes betray him, and he forgets I know him too well.
I’ve wondered if I did a good enough job hiding my crying the other night, and now I know I failed. Because I know the little lip bite Callum does when he doesn’t want someone to know he knows the truth. I remember the way he rubs his right thumb alongside the back of his left hand when he’s trying to tiptoe around a subject.
“You know I wasn’t.” I feel my expression sour.
Callum sighs, and opens his mouth like he’s going to say something. Silence falls between us, and I’m so desperate for this moment not to be over that I latch on to anything that will keep him talking.
“Do you have class today?”
He shakes his head, resting his big hands on those perfectly defined abs I can’t seem to stop staring at.
“I have to be at the elementary school in a little while. I’m student teaching this semester, it happened quickly. I finally decided on a physical education degree.”
The moment he says it, I can see how perfectly he’ll fit being a gym teacher.
“Playing games in a school with goofy kids all day? That practically describes you.” I chuckle.
“You know how much I loved the days we played volleyball.” The smile he gives me is so charming, I have to fist my hands to refrain from clutching my heart like some turn of the century damsel.
That’s the boy I love. The one who lights up for things like silly games of volleyball back in high school. The one who, I just know, will kneel to put on a Band-Aid when one of his students scrapes their knee. He’ll be the cool teacher, the one you want to impress and get a good grade from because it just means a little more. The one who will counsel his students and become their confidant rather than just showing up for a job because it’s a paycheck.
“Remember when you taught me how to spike the ball into Amanda’s face?” I, surprisingly, wasn’t the mean girl in our high school.
Sure, people are intimidated by me, but I’m never mean to someone I don’t know. I don’t have time to be petty or cause drama. I’m a surly bitch, but I’m not malicious. Amanda, on the other hand, never missed the opportunity to tear someone down, especially if they didn’t quite fit in. I thought I’d fix that.
Callum actually laughs, an unfiltered sound of happiness that I haven’t heard in ages. “Shit, there was so much blood I thought you broke her nose!”
We both laugh together, and when I look over, he’s looking back at me. My heart ricochets in my chest, and Callum looks swiftly away.
My phone buzzes, an alarm I set for an hour before I need to start my day. I’m nothing if not planned down to the minute.
“I have an appointment,” I say, kind of hoping he asks where I’m going.
“Yeah, I have class in half an hour. So … have a good day.” Before I can get another word in, Callum rises and goes inside.
The slap of the screen door jolts my heart back into a steady rhythm. It’s like being around him, after I haven’t for so long, is making me this moony-eyed schoolgirl with a massive crush.
You know those big promises you make yourself? Or those dreams you wish for that you have no idea how they’ll come true, but just hope one day you wake up and you’re in it? That’s how I feel about getting Callum to fall back in love with me. I have no idea how it’s ever going to happen, but I hope it just does.
Because if I have to leave here at the end of May and never see him again, I’m not sure how my life will ever move on.
Dr. Miranda sits across from me, her hands folded in her lap and an amiable expression on her face.
The mental health facility at the campus health building consists of two offices with lighted doorbells outside, to signal if someone is in session at the moment. You’re supposed to refrain from entering when the doorbell is red, which it is to anyone sitting in the lobby right now. Is it strange to be thinking about who might be out there? Who might see me if I walk out of my venting hour, as I’ve come to think of it.
It’s only my second session in therapy, and I find myself more comfortable when Dr. Miranda and I sit down today. Not that I truly want to be here, and I can still wholeheartedly say I’m doing this in hopes of getting Callum back.
With stark white walls and a cream-colored rug, I can see how whoever decorated this space wanted to make it feel relaxing. But the fact that it’s in the basement of the health center, and with the fluorescent lights above, it feels more like a psychiatric facility than anything.
“I want to talk a little more about your past today. You’ve stated that a lot of your issues stem from your childhood. Your inability to trust, to feel fully loved. Explain that to me.”