The Redemption of Callie & Kayden

fact that my mom has called and text me a least a hundred times and left me countless messages I refuse to check. “I’m okay,” I say. “And despite the fact that I don’t have shorts or sandals, I’m enjoying the sun and sand.”
    He grins at me and it beams in the sunshine. “Well, I’m glad.” The smile fades. “But if you need to talk…”
    “Then I’ll come to you.” I point to the candy canes hanging on the streetlamps just above our heads. “It’s kind of strange seeing Christmas decorations without snow on the ground.”
    “Indeed it is.” His phone rings inside his pocket and he reaches his hand in to silence it without even looking at it.
    I eye him over, but he only smiles, and I don’t press, returning the favor of limited questions because that’s what he’s doing for me.
    Kayden and Luke are walking just a little ways in front of us, talking and laughing. Luke keeps checking out girls as they walk by, particularly the ones dressed in tight dresses.
    “I don’t understand how they can be so comfortable dressed like that,” I say as Seth jerks me to the side to swerve me around a man who’s dressed as a taco and handing out florescent-pink flyers.
    “How can who be dressed like what?” He steers us back over to the center of the sidewalk.
    “People.” I glance around the busy street with my shoulders slouched. “I mean, most of the girls are wearing nothing.”
    Seth laughs at me and then draws me closer to him. “I think you should try dressing like that.”
    My eyes widen and I start to panic as I take in the limited fabric on almost everyone. It’s not like they’re naked or even in swimsuits but a lot of women are wearing short dresses and it makes me uneasy. “Seth, there’s no way I’ll ever be able to wear a dress.” I think back to Caleb and how he called me a slut on the porch. I know it shouldn’t bother me, but it does.
    “I doubt that,” he assures me with certainty. “I think that one day you’ll be just as comfortable in your own skin as all of these people are in theirs.”
    I frown with doubt. “I don’t think so.”
    He scans the street and his eyes land on a tall woman with flowing blonde hair the color of sunflowers who’s wearing a white-and-pink sundress. Her hair is dancing in the light breeze that smells like salt and fish and everything that is linked to the ocean. “How about something like that?”
    I shake my head, breathing in the fresh air to still my accelerating heart. “No way.”
    He fires a death glare at me, his brown eyes darkening as his eyelids lower. “Why not?”
    “I was twelve the last time I wore a dress,” I say quietly, with my head held low as shame washes over me. It was pink and had flowers on it and I loved spinning in it.
    Suddenly he understands. “Oh Callie, I’m sorry.” He hooks a finger below my chin and forces my eyes away from my feet.
    “It’s fine.” I shuffle my feet along the boards of the slightly arched bridge as we walk over it. “You didn’t know.”
    He’s quiet for a while and I return to staring at my feet. “How about you just try it?”
    I blink up at him, stunned. “I thought we moved passed the subject.”
    He shakes his head with his gaze fastened on me. His blond highlights glimmer in the sun and he’s paler than most of the people around here. “I don’t want you to stop moving forward.”
    I wave my hand in front of me. “But we
are
moving forward.”
    He smiles. “That’s not what I meant.”
    “I know.” I sigh heavily, with the heat of the sun kissing my cheeks. “It doesn’t really matter either way. I don’t own a dress.”
    A grin expands across his face and he starts bouncing with excitement and swinging my arms. “Oh my God, I should totally buy you one.”
    I glance around at the store windows. A few of them are clothing stores with half-dressed manikins on display. Others have knickknacks and beachwear, and there’s an Umbrella Hut near the corner of the street, and a man is walking around in front of it with floral board shots, a tank top, and a Santa hat. “Seth, I really don’t think I can.”
    He nudges me with his shoulder. “We can at least try.” He jerks me to the side by the arm and then we cross the street to a fluorescent-pink store with daisies painted on the window and dresses hanging up on a rack underneath the outside deck. “We’ll buy you one and then if you feel like wearing it you can.”
    “And if not?”
    “Then