A Girl Named Callie

<Callie> A Girl Who is on the Brink of Something New

Chapter 1

<Callie Stevens>

Way back on the radio dial, the fire got lit in a bright-eyed child. Every note just wrapped around his soul, steel guitars to Memphis, all the way to rock n' roll.

A smile spreads across my lips as the familiar lyrics roll softly off my tongue. The words and the sounds of the acoustic guitar remind me of days spent down at the train tracks, the sunshine, the green grass and Jasper. His blonde hair and blue eyes flash across my memory as the song reaches its second verse. He used to tell me that he liked the simplicity of the song, the honesty of it, and that it was the kind of music he wanted to write if he could ever get out of Everington. Every now and then, I wonder if that's still true or if the lure of L.A. changed his dream to something more manufactured.

The song comes to an end and I take the keys out of the ignition, the heat from the direct sunlight immediately settling in the atmosphere of my small Honda Civic. I gather my binders and notebooks from the floor, mentally preparing myself for the hour and a half of abnormal psychology I'm about to endure. I double-check that I have all my materials, including the thick article I had to read last night and a bag of kettle corn to get me through the class. I sling my bag over my shoulder and step out of car into the April sunshine. The car lock beeps behind me as I make my way towards the large building that has housed all of my major classes these last four years.

A blast of air-conditioning greets me as I step inside, holding open the door for a few people who are exiting their early morning lectures. They thank me, and I nod politely before letting the door close gently behind them. I walk leisurely down the hallway, the sound of my flip-flops being the only interruption to the studious environment. I locate my classroom and step inside, taking my usual seat up front. I pull out my notebook and a ball point pen that's completely chewed up on one end. I brush some crumbs from the bottom of my bag off the cover of my notebook and then I trace the faded golden lettering. It's a souvenir from my one and only trip to see Jasper in L.A., right after I finished my senior year of high school. He bought it for me from one of those little souvenir shops we saw when I forced him to play tourist with me. I dragged him to the Hollywood sign, the Walk of Fame, and Griffith Park, all sights I hadn't had the chance to appreciate, even when I was living there.

People begin to fill in the chairs around me, their chatter drawing me out of my reverie. I hear the shuffling of papers and the powering-up of laptops as my classmates prepare for the lesson ahead. I pull out the article we had to read and begin to review my notes and highlighted sections. Someone slips into the seat next to me and sets their laptop on the table in front of them.

"Hey, you got a charger?" I look up and find my friend, Ray, smirking at me.

"Four years and you still don't have your life in order." I roll my eyes in a good-natured way and pull the charger out of my bag.

"Where would I be without you, angel?" Ray winks and plugs his computer into the portable charger.

"You probably would've lost your head second semester freshman year." I reply as our professor comes into the room, setting her briefcase on a podium in front of a projection screen. She waves to me and takes out her notes for class. A clearing of her throat brings the lecture hall to attention, silencing all the needless chatter. With a smile, she begins speaking.

"I trust you all have read the article," Professor Barfield says with a smile. The class nods as we all scramble to make sure our copy of the article is in front of us. Professor Barfield nods and pulls up a powerpoint on her computer. "Before we break into our discussion groups, I have a few clarification points." The lights dim as she begins to scroll through her powerpoint.