Bitter

twenty-nine - lydia

I was staring down at the ground, at the place I fell when West pushed me off the monkey bars. Funnily enough, it was the same place I "attacked" Cal (more like defended myself) when he had made fun of me for the first time.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?" Cal commented from the swing beside me. I finally tore my gaze away from the circle of mulch and looked over at him. His dark eyes were already on me and what he did next caught me off guard. He smiled, just a little, but it was still something. He was probably thinking about all of those dumb pranks he pulled on me and the countless rumors he started.

But that's all they had been. Rumors and pranks. If it had been West Haley tormenting me all those years, things definitely would've been different. I might've lost a hand or something or wound up dead.

Looking at Cal now, I realized that he was nothing compared to West. Not even close. Cal was back to studying the playground equipment when I blurted out, "What happened in the pool?"

The only sounds that filled the air were the crickets, the soft breeze, and the squeaking of the swings as I let my legs dangle above the ground. Cal's low voice was the fourth sound that cut through all of them, drowning them out when he eventually answered me. "He had the switchblade," was all he said. And that was all I needed to know. I didn't need any explanation on who Cal was talking about or what occurred because I could already fill in the blanks. Cal had summed up everything in those four words.

"Was West with you the whole time?" I suddenly asked. Cal then turned to face me again, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah, why?"

Thinking about the hand (at least that's what I thought it'd been) that had grabbed my ankle in that room at the party, I swallowed hard and looked down at my shoes. "Someone was hiding under the bed in that room with the balcony," I explained, "at Jason's house," I clarified. "I think they were expecting me or...somebody, I don't know."

   Cal didn't say anything. I could see the wheels turning in his head, thinking over what I'd just told him. Obviously it was great West couldn't be in two places at once, but it was a little concerning that someone else besides the lunatic was out to get me (or Cal, or both of us) and we didn't know why.

   "Did you get a look at them?" he questioned, to which I shook my head. I'd just wanted out of that bedroom as soon as possible, so I didn't bother sticking around and I ran for it with Meg. Cal gave a humorless laugh and shook his head in disbelief, looking away. "Seriously?" he muttered.

   I wanted to slap Cal right then and there (unfortunately, I didn't). How was I supposed to see the person in complete darkness? Especially when I didn't know their intentions and if they had a weapon. The way their hand latched onto my leg, so tight their grip burned my skin made me glad I hadn't wasted any time struggling to free myself.

   I heaved an exasperated sigh. "And who let West get away?" I mumbled.

   "Hey," Cal snapped, glaring at me once again, "I couldn't leave Marco drowning."

   I guess he was right on that one, but I didn't tell him that. We both fell back into a blanket of silence. I pulled my phone out and checked the time (2:34). Judging by the fact I hadn't received any worried texts from Mom, I knew she was asleep and hadn't gone in my room at all. I hoped it stayed that way for at least another half hour. I'd have to walk all the way back to Jason's house, then to mine. A yawn escaped me and I realized just how tired I was and how much I was dreading the long, dark trip home.

"I'm going to go now," I decided, getting up from the swing and stretching my arms. Better leave sooner than later.

"Wait," Cal spoke. I turned to see he was standing too, his swing abandoned and gently swaying in the wind. My eyes flicked up to look at him, his face half-doused in shadow. Then he tersely handed me his phone. Or tried to. I hadn't taken it yet. I was still staring at it like it'd kill me if I touched it. "If Haley has someone helping him, then maybe we can..."

He never said the words "work together" or "help each other" (it was like he'd throw up if he ever let that slip from his mouth), but I could guess that was what he was about to say. Cal went on. "He doesn't know you know me, remember? He's never seen me with you, so when you're with him you can text me anything he might be planning and I'll—"

"What makes you think I'll help you?" I cut him off. He obviously wasn't expecting me to ask him that because he just stared at me, the rest of his sentence caught on his tongue. "You hate me and I hate you," I reminded him. That was how the game between us had always been. I was also wary of the idea of being around West any more after tonight.

Determination flashed in Cal's eyes in the moonlight and he took my hand, turned it palm up and set his phone in it. "Well," he said, taking a step back, "maybe we don't hate each other as much as we thought."