eighteen
Evan
I didn’t expect Callie to come to my house. Fuck, I didn’t expect or prepare for anything that has happened in the last couple hours, but as I lie in the bed with her, her body pressed to mine while I become intoxicated by her lavender and vanilla scent, I am so glad she’s here. I don’t want to tell her about what happened, or even really discuss it since I feel fucking stupid, but I want to be with her. I want to see her, feel her, and talk to her. I may not want to get into a deep conversation about anything, really, but there is no way I am going to give up the chance to talk about Nico.
Callie’s lips press together, and I smile, moving her hair behind her ear. “Seems you’ve been hiding a major detail about your life from me, and I’m unsure why.”
“I don’t think I was hiding it, just avoiding,” she says nervously.
“But why?”
She shrugs. “When you didn’t recognize me the first time we ran into each other, I used that to my advantage because I know how Nico can be, and his threats can be a bit scary.”
“They can be,” I agree, because Nico Merryweather is a scary dude. But I feel bad; I feel like I should have put two and two together. “I hope you didn’t take offense that I didn’t recognize you.”
“Not at all. It wasn’t like we were hanging out with each other. Nico wouldn’t even let anyone near me, and a lot was going on for you.”
I appreciate that she’s so forgiving, but I want to apologize. “Still, I’m—”
“Shh,” she whispers, putting her finger to my lips. “Since you didn’t recognize me, it gave us a chance to get to know each other without anything or anyone holding you back from that.”
“True. Though, now that Owen knows, I’m sure he’ll let Nico know pretty quickly.”
She pauses, her eyes burning into mine. “Does that mean you don’t want to see me anymore?”
“I want to see you, Callie. Desperately,” I say almost as my next breath, and she grins widely at me. “But I also have to figure out how not to end up in a body bag,” I joke, and she laughs.
“Honestly, I doubt Owen will say anything. You two shared a room. He doesn’t want you to die.”
I chuckle as she fights back a grin. “You’re right on that one.”
“But actually, I’ve always been attracted to you. When I heard you were coming to Bellevue, I wanted to know you, to see if we could be something, but I knew Nico would be an issue. Thankfully, he wasn’t at first, and I hope he won’t be now.”
I swallow hard, holding her gaze, and she once again presses her lips together before she starts to ramble. “Not that I’m saying we’re a couple or together or whatever like that, but I hope we can continue getting to know each other, exploring this. Y’know what I mean?”
I nod, and something inside me is worried that can’t happen. I stare into her eyes, trying to figure out what to say or even how to express what I am feeling. I don’t want to scare her off, but I know I need to warn her. She is too beautiful, too smart, too talented, to be held back by someone like me. But I don’t want to seem pathetic with what my mind is trying to convince me of. I don’t want her to think I’m a loser, which is completely contradictory to what my mind is telling me, but I care so much for her.
I sigh, unable to look away as her sweet eyes hold mine with such compassion. “I’m fucked up, Callie. Truly. Fucked. Up.”
She reaches up, holding my jaw. “Aren’t we all?”
“No, not you. But me, I’m constantly fighting my mind. I don’t want to seem weak—”
“Evan, you are not weak,” she says, each word so forceful and direct. “You are so strong, so beyond what your mind is telling you. Some people can’t even get out of bed when they suffer with what you do, and yet you were in the NHL, and you played hard.”
“Not good enough.”
“To you,” she reminds me. “All of us thought you were incredible, and we didn’t even know you were suffering.”
I lay my head on the pillow, nuzzling her neck. “I wanted to be more, and I couldn’t handle it.”
“And? Does your family love you less?”
I don’t answer, and I know she doesn’t need me to.
“Do your friends think less of you?”
Again, I don’t have to answer. We both know, though sometimes I forget.
“Evan, you are moving on. Look at you, an RA, a trainer for a gymnastics team, and you want to help wherever you can. How can you not see how much you are winning against your brain?”
“I just had a panic attack because I couldn’t go on to the ice to help with the hockey team,” I admit, and I look up, feeling like a fucking loser. “I’m not winning.”
“Untrue. That’s an obstacle, but you will win against it because you’ve won against everything else. How do you expect to be able to face something like that so soon when it was so traumatic to leave it? I mean, look around your room, a constant reminder of who you were, who you thought you needed to be. How do you expect to overcome all that when it’s all in your face like this?”
I hadn’t thought of it like that.
“Evan, your peace is so important. Protect it. Be honest. Tell people what you want, what you can handle, and what you need.”
I direct my gaze to hers. “I feel like a failure.”