The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden

rock and has a mullet?”
     
    “My step-father,” he clarifies and extends his hand toward Luke. “Give me the can. I would love to put my two-cents down on that rock.”
     
    Luke drops the can into his hand. “It’s all yours, buddy.”
     
    Shaking the can, Seth strolls up to the steep rock that inclines up to the flashing grey sky. Propping his boot on a lower rock, he bounces up, grabbing onto a small lip on the side. He shifts his other foot onto the next rocky step, so both his feet are on the cliff. Tucking the spray can under his arm, he puts his other hand on the ledge and hoists himself onto it. Rolling onto his back, he stands up.
     
    I beam the light at his back as he stares up at the rock. “Are you okay up there?”
     
    He peers over his shoulder. “I’m just thinking of something infamous to write. Oh wait, I got it.” Lifting the can up, he holds down the nozzle and begins to move his hand in swirls and circles. Red paint slowly stains the rock, forming letters until it’s finished and then he lowers his hand.
     
    “ You can suck it ,” I read his words, shivering from the cold as goose bumps dot my arms. “That’s what you’re going to write?”
     
    He turns around with his hands on his hips. “It’s what I already wrote, and if you want something better, than you can drag that tiny little ass of yours up here and write it yourself. You’re the writer.”
     
    Kayden spins toward me, his hair nearly black in the pale light of the moon. He aims the light between our feet. “You write?”
     
    I shrug, aiming the flashlight over his shoulder. “In a journal.”
     
    He’s intrigued by this information for some bizarre reason. “I can actually see that about you.”
     
    I run my hand up and down my arm, trying to erase the goose bumps. “Why?”
     
    He shrugs, kicking the toes of his shoes at the dirt. “You always look like you’re thinking deeply… Are you cold?”
     
    “I’m okay,” I say through chattering teeth, wishing I hadn’t left my jacket in the cab. “It’s just a little bit chilly.”
     
    He reaches around to the back of his neck and pulls the collar of his shirt over his head, taking it off. The black t-shirt he has on underneath rides up a little and I catch a glimpse of the jagged scars on his lower abs.
     
    Tugging down the bottom of his shirt, he stretches his arm out to me with his thermal shirt in his hand. “Here, put this on.”
     
    “You don’t have to give me your shirt.”
     
    “But I want to.”
     
    Hesitantly, I take it and the fabric is soft against my fingertips. I pull it over my head as Kayden runs his hands through his hair. The shirt dwarfs me and I feel small.
     
    “Better?” he asks as I insert my arms through the sleeves.
     
    I nod, wrapping my arms around myself, enjoying the warmth, and the smell of his cologne. “Thank you, but aren’t you going to get cold?”
     
    He smiles like he finds me amusing. “I’ll be okay, Callie. I promise. A little cold air is nothing.”
     
    “Callie!” Seth hollers and I jump, whirling toward the cliff with the flashlight darting across the rocks. “Get your ass up here and write something poetic.”
     
    I sigh and trudge toward the cliff with the light pointing just in front of my feet. The circle of light shows the way around the rocks and to the base of the cliff.
     
    “Toss me your flashlight,” Seth yells with his hands around his mouth. “I’ll point it at you while you climb up.”
     
    “If you miss it, it’ll break,” I call out, standing up on my tiptoes.
     
    “Just do it,” he says in his silly, drunk voice as he skips from side to side on the ledge, swinging his arms.
     
    I’m worried he’s going to fall. “Be careful!”
     
    Kayden moves up beside me with his hand held out to the side. “Here give it to me. I’m an excellent thrower.” I put the flashlight in his palm and he tips his shoulder back, raising his arm. “Go long.”
     
    “Huh?” Seth says as Kayden’s arm whips forward. He releases the flashlight and it soars through the air like it’s a football.
     
    Seth screeches as he sticks his hands out in front of him to catch the flashlight, which flickers like a firefly as it lands in his hands. It bounces out of them, hitting the ground and shuts off.
     
    “Where is he?” I ask as Luke comes up behind us and beams the light at the rock above. It’s silent for a moment. The yells and laughter of the party below travel up to