Chapter 4: Chapter Four

Callie:

“Callie, wake up,” Aunt Kat called for the third time. “We're going to be late.”

I rolled over with a groan and pressed my face into my pillow.

“I'm not kidding, kid!”

When she used “Kid” I knew she must be really annoyed. Most of the time she indulged my perpetual lateness, anything that reminded her of her sister, but I also had a tendency to push her over the edge.

At the sound of my door opening, I rolled back over and sat up rubbing my eyes. “You don't look like Kat.”

“Whew, that's a relief.” The bed bounced as Colby threw his weight onto it.

“How are you so awake when you got home later than me last night?” I asked, yawning.

“It's my superpower.” He looked around my messy room, clothes strewn about, and raised an eyebrow. “I thought you cleaned this yesterday.”

“I did.”

“Okaaay. Why did Jamie drive you home last night? He missed the last half of the party. Frankly, I'm surprised you guys got along long enough to sit in the same car.”

I grabbed my pillow from behind me and whacked him with it. “We aren't that bad.”

“Yes.” He took the pillow from me. “You are.”

It was obvious Morgan hadn't told Colby what happened, and I didn't feel the need to mention it. I don't know why she kept it to herself, but I was grateful. Colby didn't need to get into a fight on the first day of senior year. Not like he was usually a fighter, but he was protective of me whether or not he always showed it.

“Jamie was just being nice,” I finally said.

“That doesn't sound like him at all.” His voice was skeptical, but he let it go. “Anyway, Kat will have a coronary if you make us late for church again.”

I sighed. “Fine.” Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I looked at him. “See? Getting up. I can be ready in twenty. Tell Kat you succeeded in your mission.”

He nodded, a small triumphant smile curving his lips. As he left, his words from the night before came back to me. I knew we wouldn't talk about the fight. That wasn't our style. Fake it 'til you make it and all that. Whenever we argued, we'd act like it hadn't happened, both of us hoping the other would forget our harsh words. We never did.

Colby and I were too different to be what we needed each other to be. We were inseparable as kids and then the unthinkable happened. Everything was ripped away until all we had was each other, only we didn't really have each other anymore. Even once Kat took us in, we were both desperately lonely. The difference was, he snapped out of it much sooner than me. That loneliness still lingered in the back of my mind, creating a wall between my brother and me.

I took a super quick shower before drying off and throwing on a pair of khaki shorts and silk shirt. Tying my wet hair into a messy bun, I looked in the mirror at my puffy eyes, dabbing the tiniest bit of foundation on under then. Some quick eyeliner and I was as ready as I'd ever be.

I slipped my flip flops on, knowing full well how some of the women in the church would view them. If it was up to them, we'd all be wearing hideous floral dresses with heels that were too difficult to walk in. No thank you. This was as dressed up as I got.

Kat and Colby were waiting by the front door when I came out of my room, and we rushed out to the car. We lived in an old prefab house in Gulf City's south side. Three bedrooms with a small kitchen and living space. It wasn't anything special, but it was all we'd ever known. When mom died, Kat didn't have the heart to sell it, and she took care of it as much as she could, but she was one person. The yellow exterior paint was peeling, in desperate need of a new coat. A crack ran the length of the driveway. Florida wasn’t kind to houses. Between the storms and the heat, they took a beating.

It took us ten minutes to get to the church in Kat's old Chevy Tahoe.

Gulf City Presbyterian was at the center of town. It wasn't the only church in the area, but it was the biggest. Stained glass windows adorned the front of the brick structure, giving it an air of opulence. Perfectly manicured lawn surrounded white pillars along the walkway from the parking lot to the front door.

“See,” I said. “We aren't late. People are still arriving.”

Neither Colby nor Kat responded as the large glass doors were held open for us. The greeter extended bulletins toward us, and we thanked him.

“Colby.” Morgan walked up to us. Well, walking was probably the wrong word. It was like she bounced everywhere she went.

“Hi Morgan,” Kat said affectionately.

“Wait, how do you know Morgan?” I asked. “Was I the only one who didn't know about this?” I waggled my finger between my brother and the girl who was now holding onto his arm.

“You've been kind of wrapped up in your own stuff this summer, Cal.” Colby didn’t meet my eyes.

Was he right? I tried to think back on this summer, remembering only that I surfed when the waves came in and was with Jay the rest of the time.

I didn't have time to think on it more because Colby led us to a pew right behind Jamie and his parents. I slid in next to Kat, working hard not to notice the boy who was trying to get my attention in front of me.

“Earth to Callie,” Jamie whispered, earning a glare from his father.

“What?”

“Don't tell me you're reneging on our deal.”

I looked up and saw him staring at me like he actually cared if I backed out. Could we really be friends? If I declined to go on his quest for greatness, he'd have others lining up to take him up on it.

“I don't know what's in it for you,” I admitted. “Did Jay put you up to this? Ask you to look out for me or something?”

His expression turned confused and hurt.

“James Candice Daniels,” his father said. “If you don't turn around right now and shut your mouth…” He let the threat hang there and much to my surprise, Jamie did as he said, slumping in his seat.

The service started, and it was just like any other service on any other Sunday. Reverend Jones was a good speaker, but it never felt like he was speaking to me, like I could relate.

I zoned out and instead thought of Jamie. He'd seemed hurt when I questioned his motives, yet he had to see why I would. I've known him my whole life. We were even friends once. As we grew older, he stayed close to Colby and Jay stayed close to me. It'd been like that for years, and I'd assumed that was how it'd stay. Usually, the two of us bickered like siblings.

If I thought hard about it, I didn't actually hate him, and the more I thought about it, I didn't know why I thought I did. Maybe being friends with him would mean this year didn't have to be as bad as I thought.

We filed out of the church an hour later. Colby watched as Jamie followed me.

For the first time, I got a look at the other side of his face and gasped. He had a nasty bruise that ran along his cheekbone.

“Jamie, oh my gosh.” I reached out and touched it. He winced but didn't push me away. “I'm so sorry.”

“Tony had it coming.” He shrugged.

“I guess it's not the first fight you've been in.”

He was a known hot head. On the soccer field, in the school halls, at the beach. Pretty much anywhere he went, there was a chance he'd throw a punch.

“No.” He chuckled. “It's not. Look, I know it's weird, me saying I want to hang out with you, but we used to be friends.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Do you remember two years ago, when Alex Terrel stopped bullying you?”

“Yeah, I always assumed Colby talked to him.”

“Terrel was not about to listen to reason,” he scoffed. “More like he had words with my fists.”

When I was silent, he continued.

“Or last year when I went out with Kendra Lane? You were so mad at me.”

“Because she was never anything but a bitch to me. She snapped the fin on my favorite board.”

“Then she suddenly stopped,” he said.

“That's why you agreed to go on a date.” I started to catch on.

“See, I've always been your friend. And yes, Jay may have asked me to keep an eye on you, but I would have done it, anyway.”

“Jamie Daniels, you aren't nearly as much of a jerk as everyone says you are.”

“Just don't tell anyone. Have I convinced you yet? For some reason, I think we'd have fun. Plus, with Jay gone again you've got to be desperate for friends.”

“Gee, you really know how to sweet talk a girl,” I deadpanned.

“I'm not trying to sweet talk you.” He laughed. “If I was, you'd know.”

I shoved him as we kept walking, not answering. Instead, I smirked. “So, your middle name is Candice, huh?”

“Not a word,” he growled “How did I not know about this?”

“It's not exactly something I share. It's a family name.”

“Can I call you Candy?”

“I'm trusting you with my life here,” he pleaded.

When I stayed silent, torturing him, he grabbed my arm and spun me to look at him. “Not. A. Word.”

“Whatever you say, Candy.”

* * *

Monday came way too early. The last first day of school. Unless I go to college that is. Ugh, college. I didn't even want to think about it. Colby knew exactly where he wanted to go and already had a scholarship offer to play soccer. Me, I had no clue what my future held, but I wasn't sure it was more classrooms and lectures.

I stood at the front counter in the diner making coffee as Kat was back in the kitchen with the morning cook, preparing the first orders.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

I whipped around, expecting to scowl at whoever it was that called me sweetheart, only to find Seth Franklin sitting at the counter. He always used that nickname for me, and I let him get away with it because he was just a sweet old man.

“Morning Seth.” I poured him a cup of coffee and slid it across the counter. “What can I get you?”

“Shouldn't you be at school, young lady?”

“Free first period all year. I'll be leaving soon.”

“Oh good. An education is important, you know.”

“Thanks for the tip, Seth.”

He laughed. “Yeah, here I am going on about things you already know. Listen, my grandson is a senior, like you this year. Think you could keep an eye on him?”

“Sure thing. What's his name?”

“Matthew.”

I nodded, knowing exactly who the kid was. Everyone did. If Morgan Cook represented one end of the popularity spectrum, Matthew was the other end.

Seth put in his order, and I laid it on the pass-through window before balling up my apron and tossing it under the counter.

“Bye, Kat.”

“See you after school.” She looked up pointedly. “Try to be nice to people today.”

I shook my head, grabbed my backpack, and headed out the door. Was I really that bad? It really sucked when you saw what your family thought of you. Colby didn't like to be around me, or at least didn't try, and Kat thought I was pathetic. Just wonderful.

My truck sputtered to life, and I drove the two miles from the diner to school. The halls were empty save for the other seniors lucky enough to have a free first period. Finding my locker, I tried my new combination.

“Crap,” I grumbled when it failed to open on the third try.

“Need help?” A tentative voice asked beside me.

Morgan stood there with her perfect makeup and even better outfit. A pair of cuffed jean shorts hugged her hips below a baby doll t-shirt that never would have looked that good on me.

I stepped out of the way, and she got my locker open on the first try. Was there anything she didn't do well?

“It's finicky,” she said, trying to make me feel less like an idiot.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Grabbing the books for my first two classes, I shut it, the sound echoing down the hall.

“What do you have first?” Morgan asked. I didn't know why she suddenly insisted on talking to me after years of silence but had a sneaking suspicion Colby was behind it.

“Creative writing,” I answered just as awkwardly.

“Me too!” This seemed to make her less nervous. “We can totally walk together.”

“Uh, sure.” Kat's voice suddenly popped into my head telling me to be nice. One of her favorite things to say over the years had been to try harder. Well Kat, here you go.

The bell rang, releasing hordes of students into the hall. The surrounding noise lessened the need for me and Morgan to talk on our way to class.

“Here it is.” Morgan led me inside. I found a seat near the back, and she took the one beside me. Did she know these would probably remain our seats all semester?

A few of her friends walked in, and I was sure she would move, but she just waved to them as they sat near us.

“Can you say sexy?” Morgan whispered, leaning toward me and nodding toward the man who'd just walked in.

“Is he Mr. Chase?” someone else said.

He was young, the youngest teacher I'd ever had. Tall, wide shoulders, styled black hair, and the beginnings of a beard, he was also the hottest teacher I'd ever had. Scratch that - the only hot teacher.

“Hello,” he said, a thick British accent clear. “I'm Mr. Chase.”

“Oh my gosh,” Morgan gasped.

I silently agreed.

“I am your creative writing teacher,” he continued, doing his best to make eye contact with each person in the small class. “This is my first year at Gulf City High. Before this, I was teaching at a school in Tampa. A little about me, hmmm…” He tapped his long fingers against his chin. “I don't know if you can hear my accent. It's barely there anymore.” Pausing for laughter, he wasn't disappointed. “But I'm from just outside of London. I lived there until I was seventeen. Then I moved to Florida with my mum and went to Uni in Tampa.”

A girl in the front raised her hand.

“Yes?”

“And how old are you now?” She giggled.

Indulging her, he answered. “Thirty-one. Now,” he continued. “This year we will work on your writing, but it will be fun. Writing should always be fun, or else what's the point of doing it?”

The class was overwhelmingly female, and he had our rapt attention as he went over the syllabus.

When class ended, a few girls stayed back, including Morgan, and I used that as my cover to slide out without having to talk to anyone.

There was no way Calc would be as interesting. I kept my head down as I walked through the crowded hall. If I didn't make eye contact, I wouldn't have to interact.

It turned out, someone had other ideas. I felt a hand wrap around my upper arm. Remembering Saturday night, my fight instinct kicked in, and I spun around before being pushed into an unused classroom.

The door shut behind me.

“What the hell, Jamie?” I yelled, shoving him into the wall as I felt the usual anger he evoked rising.

“Chill, will you?”

“Only when you leave me alone.”

“Here we go again.” He threw his arms up in the air.

“Look, I didn't mean that how it sounded. I'm just not used to you actually talking to me at school.”

“It was you who didn't talk to me.” He pointed at me to emphasize his point.

“That's ridiculous.”

“You're ridiculous,” he countered.

“Your mom's ridiculous.”

A laugh burst out of him. “Did you just 'your momma' me?”

I smirked. “Ended the argument, didn't it?”

“I thought you liked arguing with me?”

“You just make it so easy.” I laughed.

“Well, do you want to know why I'm making you late to class?” he asked.

I looked at the clock on the wall and turned toward the door. “Crap. I have to get to Calc.”

“No, you have to get to the beach.”

That stopped me. I turned back around and looked up at him. “Why?”

“There's a storm coming.” He grinned.