The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden

looks, in a really innocent way. She sputters, “She has guys over a lot.”
     
    I scratch my nose to stop myself from laughing at her. “I see. So you have to give her the room for a few hours.”
     
    She puts a hand on each side of the row of papers and rearranges them together until they form a stack. “Yeah.”
     
    I pause and an apology slips from my lips. “I’m sorry.”
     
    Her brows knit as she elevates her chin to meet my eyes. “For what?”
     
    “For not telling Daisy to shut her fucking mouth,” I say. “I should have. She was being a bitch to you.”
     
    She shrugs, staring at the field. “You don’t need to stick up for me. She’s your girlfriend. You should be on her side.”
     
    I kneel down on the grass, getting closer to her. “No, I should have stuck up for you. I owe you that much.”
     
    She presses her lips firmly together, returning her attention to me. “You don’t owe me anything, I swear. What I did that night wasn’t that big of a deal. If I would have walked away from the situation then it would have been a big deal.”
     
    I do owe her though, so much. Because of her, I have fewer scars. I wish I could take away whatever makes her look so sad all the time. I set my helmet on the grass and pick up her books for her as she reaches for her bag over by the bottom of the tree trunk. “What are you doing tonight?”
     
    She stuffs her papers into her bag, crinkling the edges, and then I hand her the books. “I’m probably going to just stay in and watch a movie or something.”
     
    “How much longer is your room preoccupied?” I ask and smile as her cheeks turn even redder.
     
    “I don’t know.” She rises on her knees, shifts her bag onto her shoulder, and gets to her feet. “I’ll probably just go hang out with Seth until her friend is gone.”
     
    I scoop up my helmet and follow her as she heads down the line of the fence. “Why don’t you come out with Luke and me? He wants to go check out this club down in the Town Center. It might end up being a complete shithole, but it’s better than just sitting around in your room.”
     
    She halts, adjusting the handle of her bag on her shoulder, and bites her bottom lip so hard the skin around her mouth turns purple. “I don’t think I can.”
     
    “Why?” I ask in a playful tone as I grin at her.  “Am I that bad to be around?”
     
    Her arms fall to her sides and her eyes fasten on mine. “No.”
     
    I rub the sore muscles on the back of my neck. “Okay, then come with us. It’ll be fun and if it’s not, we can go do something else.”
     
    She balls her hands into fists and then stretches her fingers back out. “Okay.”
     
    I’m shocked. I’d been flirting with her out of simple fascination with how she gets flustered, but I didn’t think it would work on her. “Okay, meet us at Luke’s truck at like nine-ish?”
     
    She nods and turns her back to me, walking away so quickly, it’s like she’s terrified I’ll stab her in the back. She seems afraid of everyone, except for Seth. But why?
     
     
     
     
     
    Callie
     
    I remember pink and white birthday balloons floating around the room, red streamers hanging from the ceiling, and gold wrapping paper balled up on the floor. The way the flames of the candles danced and the trail of smoke flowed up to the ceiling. My mom on the other side of the table, with a camera in her hand and a smile on her face as she clicked the button over and over again.
     
    The flash hit my eyes and I kept blinking, wishing she’d stop taking pictures that would forever mark this God damn day.
     
    “Make a wish, sweetie,” she said and the camera flashed again, lighting up the face of the people that surrounded the table.
     
    I stared at the pink frosting, the “Happy Birthday Callie” Make a wish?
     
    A red balloon floated over the table, slowly, up and down, up and down.
     
    “Make a wish, Callie,” my mom repeated as the balloon moved over her shoulder.
     
    Everyone was watching me, like they could see that I wasn’t whole anymore.
     
    Make a wish? Make a wish?
     
    The balloon popped.
     
    There are no such things as wishes.
     
    My roommate, Violet, enters the room as I finish writing the last line. She’s tall, with black curly hair streaked with red. Her nose is pierced and she has a tattoo of a star on the back of her neck. She has a pair of plaid pants on, a torn black t-shirt, and combat boots.
     
    “Have you seen my leather