The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden

shrugs, her shoes scuffing against the mud at the edge of the lawn. “Because we never did before. We’ve known each other for years and the only time we’ve talked is while we’ve been here. Away from Afton.”
     
    I reel in front of her and she almost runs into me. “You think I’d ditch you because we were back home?”
     
    Her shoulders shift upward as she shrugs again and stares at the ground. “It’s kind of inevitable. People will be there and a lot of people you hang out with don’t like me.”
     
    I secure my finger under her chin and incline her head up, looking into her sad blue eyes. “You’re referring to Daisy?”
     
    “Daisy, her friends, everyone we went to school with,” she says miserably. “But it doesn’t matter. I just don’t feel like going home.”
     
    She swipes her card through the lock and I open the door to her building. The warm air encircles us as we walk down the unoccupied hallway. “Then, what are you going to do? Stay here by yourself?”
     
    “I’m a big girl,” she says as we get onto the elevators and then shakes her head when I begin to smile. “I don’t mean in the literal sense.”
     
    The elevator rises up and I stay quiet as I try to figure out a way to persuade her into going with me. When we reach her bedroom door, I begin to panic. The thought of leaving her here by herself is ripping at my heart.
     
    “Okay, I’m going to be completely honest here.” I take a deep breath, because what I’m about to say is very real and more honest than I’ve ever been. “I don’t want to be away from you for that long.”
     
    She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and bites on it. “I’m sure you’ll be okay.” She extends her hand toward the lock and punches the code. She starts to turn the knob, but I catch her wrist.
     
    “No, I won’t,” I assure her with an unsteady voice. “I’m becoming attached to our little talks and… and you’re the only one that really knows everything about me.”
     
    Her shoulders sink as she looks at me with empathy. “I’ll have to talk to my mom first and ask her a few things. I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
     
    I release her and step back, feeling somewhat better. “Promise me you’ll really think about it.”
     
    She nods, twisting the doorknob. “I promise.”
     
    She takes a step inside, but I can’t let her go yet. My fingers snag her sleeve and I pull her back out into the hall.
     
    “What are you—”
     
    Before either of us can protest, I seal my lips to hers, stealing our breaths away. My hand touches her face and I hold her cheek in my palm while my other hand presses against her lower back, arching her body against mine. I slip my tongue into her mouth, just a quick kiss, but it conveys all the hunger I feel inside. Our legs give out and my hand snaps out, bracing us against the wall before we fall to the floor. She lets out a soft moan and I pull away, knowing if I go any farther it’s going to be that much harder to let her go.
     
    She blinks her eyes wildly as I back down the hall with a grin on my face. “And remember, you promised.”
     
    With a dazed look in her eyes, she walks inside her room, and tosses her notebook onto her bed, before shutting the door.
     
    ***
     
    “Do you have your old year book with you?” I ask Luke when I enter our room.
     
    “I think so,” he says, looking away from the television for a split second. He’s playing a racing game, totally zoned out as his fingers hammer at the control buttons. “Why?”
     
    “Can I look at it for a second?” I grab a can of soda out of the mini fridge.
     
    He points at the closet door, his eyes returning to the screen. “I think it’s in my trunk in there.”
     
    Setting the can down on the foot of my bed, I go into the closet. Unlatching the locks of the trunk, I raise the lid and search through the books until I find it tucked in the side. I fan through the pages until I get to the “L” section and find “Callie Lawrence.”
     
    The girl in the picture is not the Callie I know. Her hair is to her chin and choppy, like she cut it herself. She has on a baggy jacket that hides her slim shoulders and heavy black eyeliner that swallows her beautiful blue eyes. The same sadness is there, though; haunting her.
     
    I scan some more pages for her, but it’s like she barely existed. I get to my feet, put the book back, and shut the trunk, wondering what it would have been like if we had been