The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden

the edge of the pool table. His fingers quiver as he pulls his hand back and each knuckle is scraped raw. “Can you get the gauze out of that for me? My hand’s a little sore.”
     
    As my fingers fumble to lift the latch, my fingernail catches in the crack, and it peels back. Blood pools out as I open the lid to retrieve the gauze. “You might need stitches on that cut below the eye. It looks bad.”
     
    He dabs the cut with the towel, wincing from the pain. “It’ll be fine. I just need to clean it up and get it covered.”
     
    The steaming hot water runs down my body, scorching my skin with red marks and blisters. I just want to feel clean again. I take the damp towel from him, careful not to let our fingers touch, and lean forward to examine the lesion, which is so deep the muscle and tissue is showing.
     
    “You really need stitches.” I suck the blood off my thumb. “Or you’re going to have a scar.”
     
    The corners of his lips tug up into a sad smile. “I can handle scars, especially ones that are on the outside.”
     
    I understand his meaning from the depths of my heart. “I really think you should have your mom take you to the doctor and then you can tell her what happened.”
     
    He starts to unwind a small section of gauze, but he accidentally drops it onto the floor. “That’ll never happen and even if it did, it wouldn’t matter. None of this does.”
     
    With unsteady fingers, I gather up the gauze and unravel it around my hand. Tearing the end, I grab the tape out of the kit. Then squeezing every last terrified thought from my mind, I reach toward his cheek.  He remains very still, hugging his sore hand against his chest as I place the gauze over the wound. His eyes stay on me, his brows knit, and he barely breathes as I tape it in place.
     
    I pull back and an exhale eases out of my lips. He’s the first person I’ve intentionally touched outside my family for the last six years. “I would still consider getting stitches.”
     
    He closes the kit and wipes a droplet of blood off the lid. “Did you see my father inside?”
     
    “No.” My phone beeps from my pocket and I read over the text message. “I have to go. My mom’s waiting out in the car. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
     
    “I’ll be fine.” He doesn’t glance up at me as he picks up the towel and heads toward the back room. “Alright, I’ll see you later, I guess.”
     
    No, you won’t. Putting my phone away in my pocket, I depart for the door. “Yeah, I guess I’ll see you later.”
     
    “Thank you,” he instantly adds.
     
    I pause with my hand on the doorknob. I feel terrible for leaving him, but I’m too chicken to stay behind. “For what?”
     
    He deliberates for an eternity and then exhales a sigh. “For getting me the first aid kit and icepack.”
     
    “You’re welcome.” I walk out the door with a heavy feeling in my heart as another secret falls on top of it.
     
    As the gravel driveway comes into view, my phone rings from inside my pocket. “I’m like two feet away,” I answer.
     
    “Your brother is out here and he needs to get home. He’s got to be at the airport in eight hours.” My mother’s tone is anxious.
     
    I increase my pace. “Sorry, I got sidetracked… but you sent me in to get him.”
     
    “Well, he answered his text, now come on,” she says frantically. “He needs to get some rest.”
     
    “I’ll be there in like thirty seconds, Mom.” I hang up as I step out into the front yard.
     
    Daisy, Kayden’s girlfriend, is out on the front porch, eating a slice of cake as she chats with Caleb Miller. My insides instantly knot, my shoulders slouch, and I shy into the shadows of the trees, hoping they won’t see me.
     
    “Oh my God, is that Callie Lawrence?” Daisy says, shielding her eyes with her hand and squinting in my direction. “What the heck are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be like hanging out at the cemetery or something?”
     
    I tuck my chin down and pick up the pace, stumbling over a large rock. One foot in front of the other.
     
    “Or are you just running away from the piece of cake I have?” she yells with laughter in her tone. “Which one is it Callie? Come on, tell me?”
     
    “Knock it off,” Caleb warns with a smirk on his face as he leans over the railing, his eyes as black as the night. “I’m sure Callie has her reasons for running away.”
     
    The insinuation in his voice sends my heart and legs fleeing. I