Free Sports Games
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.
