The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden

felt so good, my mind could scarcely comprehend anything else, but when it’s over, everything piles on my shoulders like cracked bricks. Suddenly, I see his face instead of Kayden’s.
     
    He’s looking at me with concern as I jump off the bed and race out of the room. Once I’m in the bathroom, I lock the door and collapse onto my knees in front of the toilet. I lift the lid, feeling the pain burn in my stomach. I want it out. So badly. I drop my head down, jab my finger down my throat, and with a sharp shove, I force everything to exit my body. My shoulders jerk as I hack on my finger and the vomit tears at my throat. My eyes water and my nostrils burn as I lean away and take my finger out of my mouth. The tip has a little blood on it and I wipe it off on a piece of toilet paper.
     
    I rest my back against the cold tile wall and my head falls back. Hot tears spill out of my eyes and stream down my cheeks as I smear the vomit and sweat off my face with the sleeve of my shirt, my chest twitching fitfully as I work to breathe.
     
    “I don’t want to be this way,” I whisper as my eyes fill up with tears. “I don’t want to be this way.” I yank at my hair and scream through my teeth, fucking hating the guy who did this to me with every single ounce of strength that I own. “I fucking hate you. I fucking hate you… I fucking…” My cries overwhelm me and I surrender, bawling my eyes and heart out.
     
    ***
     
    I can’t stop thinking about Kayden and the way it felt when he touched me, how good it felt. I want to do it again. I just wish I could stop associating it with that one fucking time. That God damn time I wish I could forget.
     
    I go back to the memory a thousand times, wishing I’d be able to see what was going on beforehand. I really thought he just wanted to give me a birthday present.
     
    I followed him down the hallway so easily and into my room, actually glancing around at my bed and floor, searching for the present.
     
    “Where is it?” I had asked him, turning around.
     
    He was locking the door. Why was he locking the door?
     
    ***
     
    A week goes by and I avoid Kayden at all costs. I ignore his calls, skip out on the one class I have with him, and don’t answer my door when he knocks. I feel bad, but I’m too embarrassed to face him. I assumed after what happened he’d just walk away, but it’s not the case.
     
    At the end of the week, I sneak off to the library when I know he’s in Biology class to find some books for a paper I have to write about depression. The campus is fairly quiet since it’s so close to the holidays. My mom and dad are flying out to Florida to see my grandparents for Thanksgiving, so I’m not going home. I can’t afford the plane ticket to fly there with them, either.
     
    While I’m searching a shelf, my phone buzzes in my pocket. “Hey, I thought you had class,” I answer it.
     
    Seth says, “Shouldn’t I be saying the same thing to you?”
     
    “I’m taking a break today.”
     
    “A break from what, though?” he asks with insinuation.
     
    “Life.” I skim my fingers along the titles, feeling the worn spines of the books. “Besides, I’m using my time to catch up on assignments. By the sound of that music playing in the background, I’m taking it that you’re watching reruns of Pretty Little Liars .”
     
    “Hey, I’m not planning on spending all day in my room,” he argues. “In fact, I’m going to head out right now to see you. Where are you?”
     
    I sigh, standing up straight. “I’m in the library trying to find this damn book on depression. The catalogue said it was in, but it’s totally not on the shelf.”
     
    “What section are you in?”
     
    “I’m in the back corner, near the window that shows the stadium.” I swallow the lump in my throat that forms when I think of Kayden.
     
    “Are you going to be there for a while?” he asks and the television shuts off. “I’m heading out now.”
     
    Standing on my tiptoes, I peer up at the top row of the shelf. “Probably. I’m too short to see the top.”
     
    “Alright, Callie Girl, one knight in shining armor is on his way.” He hangs up and I put my phone into my back pocket.
     
    I search the nearby aisles for a stepstool I’ve seen around a few times. Finally, I give up and go back to the spot. Propping my foot on the second shelf up, I check from left to right and climb up the shelf.
     
    “There it is,” I say and grab the book from