good, the bad, the painfulness, the heartache, the loneliness, the

happiness, the need, the knowing that there’s more out there to

life than what I grew up with.

And for the first time in my life, I feel it all and tell myself

that, in the end, I’ll still be okay.

Callie

I cry myself to sleep and when I wake up, I feel different.

Kayden’s pressed up against me, with his arm around me, clinging

onto me like I’m the most important thing to him in the world as

he sleeps off his overwhelming day. I have a necklace around my

neck that he gave me because he thinks I’m good luck. Seth is still

gone and again I wonder if he has spy cameras all over the place

because it’s like he knows what he’d be walking into if he came

back to the room.

I also feel lighter—braver. I want to be free from the one

thing that still pushes me down. I want to tell my family about

Caleb, not just because I want them to know, but because I want to

free Kayden from the burden of letting his father buy Caleb off.

If I tell my family, then they’ll be on my side—and

Kayden’s—once they understand why he beat Caleb up. At least

that’s what I hope. Honestly, I have no idea how it’ll all turn out.

Maybe they’ll crush me and decide not to believe me. But

whatever the outcome, it’s time to face my worst fear and not

allow it to own me anymore. Then maybe Kayden and I can move

forward, together, with a little less weight on our shoulders.

I decide to check my voicemail but give up after the fifth

repetitive message and switch to texts. Skimming through them, I

come across one that catches my attention. After numerous

threats from my mother, she finally finds my weak spot, although

I’m not sure how she knows it exists.

Mom: Callie, I don’t even know who you are anymore.

You run off with those boys who are nothing but trouble. I’m

not going to let them ruin you and neither will your brother or

Caleb. We’ve all decided that Caleb should press charges. You

need to come home and side with this family. We’re going to

be there for him.

I drop the phone and get out of bed. I get dressed in jeans, a

long-sleeved thermal shirt, and my coat. I write Kayden a note and

leave it by the pillow.

Please don’t freak out when you wake up, but I had to tell

them by myself and I know you’ll understand. I’ll be back soon. I

promise.

Love,

Callie

I slip my shoes on and then sneak out the door, letting him

sleep. As much as I would love for him to come hold my hand and

be my security blanket, he’s already dealt with enough today and

I’m going to force myself to be brave all on my own. Besides, after

that message, I know my mom will attack him the moment he

steps foot in the house.

I walk the quiet streets underneath the clouds and the sun,

hoping that ultimately they’ll part and let the sun shine freely. This is all your fault, Callie. If you ever tell anyone, that’s what they’ll think. I keep walking, quickly and determinedly, one foot in front of the other until I reach my house. You better keep quiet. I swear to

fucking God, you’ll regret it if you don’t. The snow has been

shoveled from the driveway and my dad’s truck is parked in front

of the shut garage. The curtains are open and the steps have been

sprinkled with blue salt. One foot in front of the other. Just keep

going. I open the side door and stand in the doorway, taking in the

overwhelming memories rising in my head. Come with me for a

second, he says. I have a present for you, and I skip after him,

excited.

My mom turns from the sink. There’s a dishrag over her

shoulder and her hair is done up in a bun. Her skin is bare of

makeup and she has a pair of slacks and a pink sweater on.

“Callie Lawrence,” she says, tossing the towel onto the

counter and placing her hands on her hips. “Where the hell have

you been?”

I turn to my father sitting at the table, wearing a hooded

sweatshirt with the high school’s logo on it. He’s eating eggs and

toast and drinking juice and my brother is next to him, texting on

his phone.

“I need to talk to you,” I tell my dad in an uneven voice. I’m

not quite sure why I choose him, other than that we use to get

along really well when I was younger and I know he’ll be more

stable than my mother. “Alone.”

Glancing up at me with confusion in his eyes, he sets his fork

down and without arguing he rises from his chair. “All right,

honey.”

My brother scowls at me as he sets his phone down on the

table. “Aren’t you even going to tell mom where you’ve been?

She’s been worried.”

“It’s not important where I’ve been,” I say. “It’s only

important why I’m here.”

He frowns at me and then shakes his head before returning

his attention to his phone. My mom starts shouting that I need to

explain where I’ve been and I’m surprised when she doesn’t follow

my dad and me to the living room. Once I’ve settled down on the

couch, and he’s sitting in his tattered leather recliner across from

me, I give myself a final quick mental pep talk. I look at the photos around the room, the ones with our family and some even with

Caleb.

“That was fun, right?” I point at one photo of the two of us

wearing jerseys and standing in front of a stadium with smiles on

our faces. I was eight and I was happy.

He tracks to where I point and then a smile turns up at his

lips. “That was a good day.” His forehead creases as he looks back

at me. “Honey, your mother and I have been really worried… about

what happened that night and then you just ran away with those

boys you barely know.”

“Those boys are like my family, Dad,” I say truthfully. “They’ve

really been there for me.”

He fiddles with the string on his hoodie, tightening it and

then loosening it. “Yeah, they always seemed like they were good

kids.” He smiles. “They kicked ass on the field too.”

I know right then and there that I’ve made the right choice

by telling him first. He’s looking past the fact that Kayden beat

Caleb and maybe that’s because he’s looked a little deeper into

the situation.

“I have to tell you something.” I clear my throat. “And it’s

going to be kind of hard, not just for me to tell you, but it’s going to be hard to hear.”

“Okay…” He’s puzzled and uncertain, which it is

understandable.

I take a few deep breaths and then I take some more, until I

feel like I’m going to pass out. And then I stop breathing all

together. You better not fucking tell, or I swear I’ll hurt you. I clutch the clover hanging on my neck in my hand, needing to hold on to