Page 9 of We Thought We Were Invincible
“Let's make this year epic.”
“Okay.” She drew out the word.
“I mean it. This time next summer, we'll all be going our separate ways. I don't want to leave with any regrets. We can be great this year.”
I leaned forward, excitement spilling forth. Callie stared out across the water for a long moment before nodding her head and turning back. Something unspoken swirled in her eyes and I knew she needed this just as much as I did. And she knew I was right. We were young. We were free. We could do anything.
This was the feeling we both needed. What we'd only found one place. And now it was here, brought by the most unlikely of people.
She pursed her lips, still meeting my eyes and then finally grinned. “Epic, huh?”
4
Callie
“Callie, wake up,” Aunt Kat called for the third time. “We're going to be late.”
I rolled over with a groan and pressed my face into my pillow.
“I'm not kidding, kid!”
When she used “Kid” I knew she must be really annoyed. Most of the time she indulged my perpetual lateness, anything that reminded her of her sister, but I also had a tendency to push her over the edge.
At the sound of my door opening, I rolled back over and sat up rubbing my eyes. “You don't look like Kat.”
“Whew, that's a relief.” The bed bounced as Colby threw his weight onto it.
“How are you so awake when you got home later than me last night?” I asked, yawning.
“It's my superpower.” He looked around my messy room, clothes strewn about, and raised an eyebrow. “I thought you cleaned this yesterday.”
“I did.”
“Okaaay. Why did Jamie drive you home last night? He missed the last half of the party. Frankly, I'm surprised you guys got along long enough to sit in the same car.”
I grabbed my pillow from behind me and whacked him with it. “We aren't that bad.”
“Yes.” He took the pillow from me. “You are.”
It was obvious Morgan hadn't told Colby what happened, and I didn't feel the need to mention it. I don't know why she kept it to herself, but I was grateful. Colby didn't need to get into a fight on the first day of senior year. Not like he was usually a fighter, but he was protective of me whether or not he always showed it.
“Jamie was just being nice,” I finally said.
“That doesn't sound like him at all.” His voice was skeptical, but he let it go. “Anyway, Kat will have a coronary if you make us late for church again.”
I sighed. “Fine.” Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I looked at him. “See? Getting up. I can be ready in twenty. Tell Kat you succeeded in your mission.”
He nodded, a small triumphant smile curving his lips. As he left, his words from the night before came back to me. I knew we wouldn't talk about the fight. That wasn't our style. Fake it 'til you make it and all that. Whenever we argued, we'd act like it hadn't happened, both of us hoping the other would forget our harsh words. We never did.
Colby and I were too different to be what we needed each other to be. We were inseparable as kids and then the unthinkable happened. Everything was ripped away until all we had was each other, only we didn't really have each other anymore. Even once Kat took us in, we were both desperately lonely. The difference was, he snapped out of it much sooner than me. That loneliness still lingered in the back of my mind, creating a wall between my brother and me.
I took a super quick shower before drying off and throwing on a pair of khaki shorts and silk shirt. Tying my wet hair into a messy bun, I looked in the mirror at my puffy eyes, dabbing the tiniest bit of foundation on under them. Some quick eyeliner and I was as ready as I'd ever be.
I slipped my flip flops on, knowing full well how some of the women in the church would view them. If it was up to them, we'd all be wearing hideous floral dresses with heels that were too difficult to walk in. No thank you. This was as dressed up as I got.
Kat and Colby were waiting by the front door when I came out of my room, and we rushed out to the car. We lived in an old prefab house in Gulf City's south side. Three bedrooms with a small kitchen and living space. It wasn't anything special, but it was all we'd ever known. When mom died, Kat didn't have the heart to sell it, and she took care of it as much as she could, but she was one person. The yellow exterior paint was peeling, in desperate need of a new coat. A crack ran the length of the driveway. Florida isn't kind to houses. Between the storms and the heat, they took a beating.
It took us ten minutes to get to the church in Kat's old Chevy Tahoe.
