The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden

Sushi?”
     
    His eyes elevate from the papers to me. “Sushi? Why?”
     
    “Because Callie Lawrence just invited us,” I say. “Or well, her friend did… do you remember her being offish?”
     
    He tucks the papers away into a dresser drawer, but crumples up a small one and throws it into the trash. “Yeah, she got that way around sixth grade. It was like one minute she was normal and then the next minute she was fucking weird.”
     
    My hands fall to my side and I lean back, glancing out into the hall at Callie who’s whispering something to Seth. “I don’t remember that. I mean, I remember her being kind of normal and then not really remembering her at all. She didn’t really hang out with anyone, did she?”
     
    “Not really.” He shrugs. “What’s with the obsession with her now?”
     
    “It’s not an obsession.” He pisses me off with the accusation. “I don’t ever get obsessed with anyone. They just offered and I accepted to be polite. If you don’t want to go, then we don’t have to.”
     
    He stuffs his wallet into his back pocket. “I don’t care if we go. If I can make it through tons of freaking dinners with Daisy, I’m sure I can make it through a dinner with some girl we went to school with that barely says a word.”
     
    I feel like an asshole. He seems to remember more about Callie than I do and I should know the girl who saved me in so many ways that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to explain it to her.
     
     
     
     
     
    Callie
     
    “I’m so mad at you,” I hiss under my breath at Seth as we walk across the dark parking lot toward the restaurant that’s lit up by florescent lights. The four of us drove to the restaurant in the same car and the silence was enough to make me want to pull my hair out. “Why did you invite them?”
     
    “To be polite.” He shrugs and swings his arm around me. “Now relax, my lovely Callie, and let’s cross off being more social from our list. In fact, we can cross off inviting someone to dinner.”
     
    “I’m going to burn that list when we get back.” I jerk the glass doors open and step through the doorway into the stuffy atmosphere of the restaurant. Most of the booths are empty, but the bar is rather loud, with a group of girls wearing feather boas and tiaras, like they are at a bridal party.
     
    “No, you’re not. Now relax and try to make small conversation,” he replies and struts up to the hostess, resting his arm on top of the counter. “Hi, are there any seats available at the bar?”
     
    She giggles, twisting a lock of her red hair around her finger as she scrolls through a list, completely smitten by Seth. “Let me check.”
     
    Seth pops a mint into his mouth and rolls his eyes at me from over his shoulder. “Wow.”
     
    I smile at him then turn toward Luke and Kayden, but can’t find anything to say. I don’t do well with guys, except for Seth. I wish I did, but my memories just won’t let me.
     
    Luke plucks a waxy leaf off the artificial plant near the door. “I thought Laramie was supposed to be more of a party town then it seems to be.”
     
    I point at the window to my right. “It is farther down that way. There’s a lot of clubs and stuff.”
     
    With his buzzed brown hair, a tattoo around his forearm, and intense brown eyes, Luke always looks like he’s about to start a fight and it makes me want to cower back. “So you know where they are?”
     
    “I’ve heard of where they are.” I peek out of the corner of my eye at Kayden. He’s listening to me intently as he leans against the door with his arms crossed over his chest.  Why is he looking at me like that? Like he’s actually seeing me. “But I haven’t been to many of them.”
     
    “Yeah, you were never really a party girl, were you?” Luke flicks the leaf to the floor.
     
    “Actually she kind of was at one time,” Kayden intervenes with a proud expression on his face. “I remember now.  It was the beginning of sixth grade and my mom was supposed to bring the cake, but she forgot or something… I think it was your birthday.”
     
    “I was turning twelve.” My voice is breathless as the images of balloons, confetti, and pink frosting surface, but then bleed away into a pool of blood. “And that doesn’t make me a party girl, just a little girl who wanted a birthday party… that’s all I wanted.”
     
    They stare at me like I’ve lost my mind and I try to mentally summon my lips to form words,