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THERE WAS nothing more sacred to Callie than a morning routine. It was the difference between a good day and a bad day. It held power over her life and how it went, so she swore to herself at age eleven that she would start every morning the best way she could. Maybe if she started it off good, it would stay good.
Her routine went as follows: wake up promptly at six (ten on weekends), brush her teeth, wash her face, change, do her hair and makeup, and eat a fulfilling breakfast. She never deviated from the routine and stuck to it like she would die if she didn't follow it exactly.
Monday morning, she trudged through her routine. She woke up at six. She brushed her teeth. She washed her face. She changed into her favorite floral printed bell-sleeved dress. She put her hair into two braids that went down her back. She copied an old Stevie Nicks makeup look. She ate a bowl of oatmeal. By seven, she was out the door and getting into the car.
At 7:10, her car was parked outside of Jodie Stephens' house. At 7:15, she and Jodie drove to Andy Jones' house. By 7:30, the three girls were on their way to school, music cranked to the highest setting with the windows all the way down.
Callie, Jodie, and Andy could not be more different. Callie was a child of the Earth, believer in the powers of crystals, hippie in the 80s. Jodie used to be very rebellious, but now she was a serious goody-two-shoes and stand-up student. Andy did so much weed, was really very depressed, and had almost zero tolerance for anyone outside of her circle. And yet, somehow, they had become best friends ━━ no, sisters.
When they got to school at 7:45, they had five minutes until the bell rang (this was Andy's fault, she took too long to get ready). They grabbed their bags and bolted into school, saying quick goodbyes as they rushed to homeroom. Callie burst through the door as the bell was ringing and slid into her seat quietly, cringing as everyone stared.
As the teacher began taking attendance, Callie stared anxiously at the letter sticking out of her backpack. It contained her address, which wasn't the reason for her anxiety. It was what it meant. This letter meant that Robin Buckley would forever and always know where she lived. What if she toilet papered her house one night? Callie's parents would make her a delicious meal infused with the deadliest poison. She highly doubted Robin would do that, but she didn't actually know her.
She forced her leg to stop bouncing and went along with her day, waiting for lunch. When it finally came, she sat at the circular table she, Jodie, Andy, and Chrissy Cunningham had claimed (there were no assigned tables, but everyone sat in the same place every day anyway. If you switched tables, you messed it up for everyone, so nobody ever moved).
Callie found Robin and was watching her intensely. When she stood up and walked out of the lunch room, Callie needed to follow her. Jodie was going on about an assignment when Callie stood up suddenly. "I think I got my period," she stated, reaching for her bag. She had put the letter in the little purse she carried her tampons in earlier when she came up with the idea.
"Ugh, I got mine yesterday," Andy sighed, mouth full of food. Gross. "You need somethin'? Tampon, pad?"
"I'm fine," Callie gave her a stiff smile. "I'll be right back." She took the purse and scurried out of the lunch room in the direction she saw Robin going in.
She stepped into the hallway and looked around. She was about to give up and just go back in when Robin peeked around a corner, signaling with her fingers for her to come over. She did. They were close, pressed up in a little indent where the trophy case the basketball team had smashed in a tirade of celebration had been.
She took the letter out of the purse and held it out. "My address. Don't toilet paper my house."
Robin took it with a curious look. "Thanks?"
Callie leaned back against the wall and propped her white-booted leg against it. "This would all be a lot easier if you weren't trying to keep it a secret."
"I know," Robin groaned, running a hand through her hair. "I'm just embarrassed. It's like, I've never needed this kind of help before, you know? Like, I could always make it work on my own. If I was having a problem, I solved it myself, but now, here I am, paying you, to fix my problem. It's mortifying." She stopped to catch her breath when she realized what she had done. "Sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to ramble-"
Callie let out a quiet laugh. "It's fine. Can I just clear something up, though? I'm not fixing your 'problem', I'm giving you the tools to fix it yourself. I'm the instruction manual that comes with the furniture, but ultimately, you're putting it together yourself."
"That was a pretty good analogy."
"Right? I just thought of it on the spot."
"When you put it that way..."
"It's not so bad, right?"
"Yeah."
"This is where you would say, 'Thank you, Callie! You totally changed my perspective! I'll pay you ten dollars an hour now!'"
"In your dreams, Madison."
Callie clutched her heart and feigned offense. "Not even my first name? Low blow, Buckley."
"I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yep. Be at my place right after school, 'kay? Around three? We'll chill out, relax our brains for a minute, and then get started."
"Shouldn't we just jump right into it?"
"I mean, we could, but I physically cannot do work directly after school. I need a break first. You could always come over at a different time, but this way, we can also get to know each other."
"I don't w—" She let out a breath. "Fine. Whatever!"
"That's the spirit! See you tomorrow, my little prodigy," Callie booped Robin's nose as she glided past her, not missing her face scrunch up in pure disgust. That made Callie smile a little, knowing she got a reaction out of her.
Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.
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NOTE
Short (and bad) chapter but I wanted to put Tuesday in a different chapter so it wouldn't be SO long LMAOOO
Anyway let me know your thoughts so far!!!! Love you 💖 also the next chapter is SO MUCH BETTER WRITTEN I was just struggling so bad w this one and the prologue idk why
