The Redemption of Callie & Kayden

but I wonder if he’s a crack addict or something by all the sores on his face. His brown hair is cropped and it’s thinning out and he reeks of smoke and booze.
    “How long are you staying here?” He kicks his feet up on the table and there’s a hole in the bottom of his shoe.
    “I have no idea.” I pick up the remote from the coffee table and aim it at the television screen. “I guess it depends on what happens with this Caleb thing.”
    He removes the paper bag from the bottle of vodka and puts the tip of the bottle up to his mouth. “Yeah, what was that about?” He knocks a shot back and then slams the bottle down on the table. There’s a red ring around his mouth from pressing the bottle against it and I wonder if it hurt or if he even felt it.
    I turn on the TV and begin flipping through the channels. I don’t want to talk to him when he’s so trashed that he won’t remember a word. Even though it’s probably wrong, I still have bitter feelings toward him for bailing on me when I was a kid so he could turn into this. “It’s called life.”
    He laughs incredulously. “Life’s called beating the shit out of someone?”
    “It was our life for a while,” I say and he fidgets uncomfortably. I crack my knuckles and my neck, resisting the urge to ram my fist into the table in front of me. “I didn’t beat the shit out of him. I broke his nose, knocked out a few teeth, and bruised the shit out of his face. That’s it.”
    “Yeah, but what did Caleb Miller do to you?” he presses. “The last time I was here, he seemed like an okay guy.”
    I pop my knuckles again, pushing on them as hard as I can, until the skin feels like it’s going to split open. “He’s a fucking prick who got away with something he should be in jail for. What I did to him was minor compared to what should be done to him.” I get up because I don’t want to talk about it anymore.
    He turns around in the chair, following me with his bloodshot eyes. “Didn’t you beat him unconscious?”
    I shake my head as I jerk open the door. “Nope.” I thought I did, but it turned out he was just playing it up. Yeah, his face looked like a fucking lumpy blueberry, but by the time the police put me in the back of the car, he was up and milking it for all it was worth.
    I walk outside, done with the conversation. I don’t have a coat on, just a hoodie, but I welcome the cold as I hike across the icy front yard, tromping through the snow, with my arms at my sides. Both cars are gone from the driveway, but the motorcycle is in the garage with the key in it. I run my hand along the leather seat, thinking about the last time I rode it and how I wrecked it trying to jump it over a hill. It’s black, sleek, and not made for jumping, but I was showing off for a bunch of girls and ended up skidding into the dirt and giving myself killer road rash. It was minor compared to some of the things my father’s done to me and even some of the things I’ve done to myself.
    Rolling my wrist and feeling a slight pain inside the muscle from my cuts, I swing my leg over the seat, turn the key, and floor the throttle while I hold down the brake. The engine and exhaust huffs to life and for a split second I feel alive. I pick up my feet, release the brake, and fly out of the garage onto the road. It’s colder than hell, but it could be worse. It’s actually a warm day for Afton and the roads are clear. I can deal with it as long as I drive slowly. I just need to go somewhere.
    Anywhere, but here.
Callie
    It’s been a little less than a week since I saw Kayden at the café. I’ve texted and called him a couple of times and always end up crying because he won’t answer. I can’t stop thinking about the emptiness in his eyes and the anger in them when he pulled away. Seth’s texted him a few times, but it always goes unanswered. It kills me that there’s been no contact with him and that he’s up in that house, alone with his terrible family, keeping silent about his life. Silence. Silence. Why is it always about silence? I wish both of us could tell the world and be free from the chains we drag around.
    Seth and I have been spending a lot of time away from my house, hanging out at the café, eating too many pancakes, and driving the roads aimlessly, anything that will keep me away from my mother. It’s not like she’s been terrible, but she keeps reminding me about my obligation to my brother and Caleb, since they’re a “package