The Redemption of Callie & Kayden

but… but what if he did? I know it could have been his dad, but what if it wasn’t? What if the doctors are right? I mean, they did send him to that facility for a reason.”
    Raindrops bead down our faces and my eyelashes flutter against them. “Then he did,” I say. “It doesn’t change anything.” Everyone has secrets, just like me. I’d be a hypocrite if I judge Kayden for self-infliction. “Besides, they didn’t send him. The hospital transferred him there so he could be watched while he heals. That’s all. He doesn’t
have
to stay there.”
    Seth offers me a sympathetic smile, but there’s pity in his eyes. He leans forward and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I know, and that’s why you’re you.” He moves back from me, turns to his side, and aims his elbow at me. “Now come on, we’re going to be late for class.”
    Sighing, I link elbows with him and we step out into the rain, taking our time as we head to class.
    “Maybe we could do something fun,” Seth suggests as he opens the door to the main building on campus. He guides me into the warmth and lets the door slam shut behind us. He releases my arm and shakes the front of his jacket, sending raindrops everywhere. “Like we could go to a movie or something. You’ve been dying to see that one…” He snaps his fingers a few times. “I can’t remember what it’s called, but you kept talking about it before break.”
    I shrug, grabbing my ponytail and giving it a good wringing so the water drips out of the end. “I can’t remember either. And I don’t really feel like seeing a movie.”
    He frowns. “You need to quit sulking.”
    “I’m not sulking,” I say and massage my hand over my heart. “My heart just hurts all the time.”
    His shoulders lift and descend as he sighs. “Callie, I—”
    I raise my hand and shake my head. “Seth, I know you always want to help me out and I love you for that, but sometimes hurting is just part of life, especially when someone I lo—care about is hurting too.”
    He arches his eyebrows because of my almost-slip. “Okay then, let’s go to class.”
    I nod and follow him up the hall. My clothes are wet from the rain and there’s water in my shoes. Even though it’s cold and the water sticks my clothes to my body, it reminds me of a beautiful time full of magical kisses and I need to hold onto that.
    Because for now, it’s all I’ve got.
    * * *
    Time drags on. Classes are ending, wrapping up for winter break. I’ve been staring at my English book for so long it feels like my eyes are bleeding and the words look identical. I rub my eyes with my fingertips, pretending like the room doesn’t smell like pot and that Violet, my roommate, isn’t passed out in the bed across from mine. She’s been like that for the last ten hours. I’d be worried she was dead, but she keeps muttering incoherently in her sleep.
    On top of studying for the English exam, I’m supposed to be writing an essay. I joined a creative writing club at the beginning of the year, and at the end of it, I’m supposed to turn in three projects: a poem, a short story, and a nonfiction piece. As much as I love to write, I’m struggling with the idea of putting truth down on paper for other people to read. I’m afraid of what might come out if I really open up. Or maybe it’s because it seems silly to write a paper about the truth of life when Kayden’s in an institution living the truth. All I’ve typed so far is:
Where the Leaves Go by Callie Lawrence
. I’m uncertain of where I’ll go with this.
    The rain from earlier has frozen into fluffy snowflakes that sail from the sky and a silvery sheet of ice glistens across the campus yard. I tap my fingers on the top of my book, thinking about home and how there’s probably three or four feet of snow and how my mom’s car is probably stuck in the driveway. I can picture the snowplow roaming the town’s streets, and my dad doing warm-ups inside the gym because it’s too cold to be outside. And Kayden is still in the hospital under supervision because they think he tried to kill himself. It’s been a few weeks since it happened. He was out of it for quite a while from the blood transfusion and lacerations to his body. Then he woke up and no one could see him because he’s considered “high risk” and “under surveillance” (Kayden’s mother’s words, not mine).
    My phone is sitting on my bed next to a pile of study sheets and an array of