And I remember her as if we still spoke. As if that night we were caught together didn't tear us apart completely. I remember the smell of her shampoo and the slight curl in her hair. The way she smiled was always just a bit crooked, like she wasn't used to the gesture. I remember the feel of her smooth lips against mine, the feel of her hands in my hair. And I remember the way seeing her used to make me feel, like she was the only one around when she walked into a room. I remember the way the lights would always shine brighter. She was a breath of fresh air in my stale life. She brought me down to my knees literally begging her to kiss me again. To love me forever and I guess in a way she did. She does. She changed my outlook on life in the short period of time she was with us. She changed me, if I was being completely honest with myself. Callie Jacobs was an enigma, one I never really got to solve.
I remember the night she left us, with nothing but a note begging us to take care of Jude. She had said it could never be the same, she couldn't stop loving me. She didn't want to stop loving me, she didn't even want to try and that made me smile. She said she didn't mean to cause any pain, but she had and so it was time for her to move on. She thanked moms for their hospitality, the words written so eloquently in her neat little cursive. She claimed that she would be okay, that she had a skill set to fall back on. I hoped she was right about that, but at sixteen what skills did she really have?
I remember the immense pain I felt when we realized she wasn't coming back. The burning in my throat from unshed tears, the hunger gnawing at my stomach from lack of sustenance. The frustration of not being able to keep anything down. I remember waking up one morning and feeling okay, and then immediately hating myself for feeling that way. I remember I used to sit in front of my keyboard for hours playing a song for her until my fingers were stiff from playing. The pain of them jolting me into remembering why I sat here hour after hour, day after day. I remember eventually I stopped playing altogether and that killed me more. It would have killed her too.
I remember the distance I put between myself and my moms, blaming them for her leaving. The hurt looks that crossed their faces will forever be etched into my mind. I remember going to school and coming home. I would stare at her bed for hours, knowing she was safe when she was here. I used to sit there for hours inhaling her scent. The bed is still made with the guitar I gave her neatly propped against the pillows she hasn't used in months. I remember hating her for leaving me here to deal with this alone. For making me learn to live without her, it was a cruel and unusual punishment. And when it got to hard to remember, I drank to numb myself, because at night I fall asleep to her face.
I remember reading a file my mother had left on the kitchen counter one day. It was hers and I cried at what I read. She ended up in juvie yet again, and was to be released next week. I remember moms whispering about what they were going to do about it. I remember crying tears of joy when they decided to pick her up and bring her back home. I remember begging to go with them that day, but the mile long road I put between us was littered with too many roadblocks to cross in one day. Too many open ended conversations, too many things left unsaid. I remember sitting in the living room on that rainy day waiting for her to come back with them, I sat there like a kid on Christmas morning. She was my present. I remember the crooked smile I had when I saw the car pull into the driveway.
I ran outside, with no shoes on, no jacket and certainly no umbrella. I stood there waiting for her to step out of the car. And when she did I felt everything snap back into place, I felt everything shift and I felt whole again. She had a black eye and a busted lip just like the last time. But this time there was a twinkle in her eye and it belonged to me. She was wearing my school sweatshirt, a ratty old pair of converse sneakers and jeans with a hole in the knee. And when she finally looked at me she was wearing that jagged smile. I remember shouting her name over the rolling claps of thunder, praying she could hear my pain in the word. She yelled back and I knew she meant she was sorry. I remember shrugging as if to say it was okay, and honestly for the first time in months it actually was. And I stepped forward my toes squishing into the wet grass, the rain beating onto my head, and trying to embrace her. I remember being told no, not by her but by my mother. I remember the look I gave her, one of pure hatred and confusion. As if to say this will bring me back to you, she will heal me, why can't I have her?
My mother spoke, I hardly listened anymore but I tuned in this time. She said that it had happened again, and to be careful. That we all would have to talk. I tilted my head my eyes flashing with such hurt. I remember asking her what had happened, and when my mother uttered his name I remember howling out in pain. My knees buckled and I hit the ground hard, frustration building up inside of me that all I could do is scream and beat the ground in anger. I didn't realize she was standing above me until she spoke. The words she whispered gave me a sense of direction, and in that moment she changed the course of my life again. Wait for me. Three words spoken so softly between roars of thunder but yet conveyed everything I had wanted to hear. She was okay, or as okay as she was going to be, for now at least.
And after we had both showered and the family welcomed her back with open arms and moms doled out her semi punishment for running away, we sat in the living room. The coffee table between us, cross legged on the floor, staring at each other. I remember the conversation like it was yesterday. I asked her why she left. She said it was easier than getting kicked out. I said I didn't understand they both ended with her away from me. She responded with her way was better because it brought us back together. I had to agree. And then we sat in silence, just looking at each other, knowing that things would be okay. And for right then it was.
She had to go to night school to make up the months she missed, and she begged moms to let her go to summer school instead. The dark seemed to scare her now, I guess she knew better than any of us what exactly lurks out there. It didn't help matters that he was out on bail. I remember the day she walked into my classroom, her eye swollen shut and her lip bleeding just a bit. I stood up anger radiating off of me in waves. She looked at me, her bottom lip trembling, her eyes begging me to not make a scene. I huffed and sat back down, watching as she grabbed her missed assignments and left the room.
I remember how I exploded that night asking her a million questions while she sat on the couch with her head hung and her hands clasped between her knees. I remember the sad look in her eyes when she said that this is what happens when she stays in one place too long. That he always finds her. I was so angry by that point that I didn't even think to console her. I stormed out of the house, and to my car. I heard her screaming behind me, begging me not to do anything stupid, pleading with me to stay. But I trudged on, the last thing I remember seeing was her tear streaked face.
I don't know the rest of the story but I piece it together by the snippets of conversation I hear throughout the days. I went looking for him, to give him some of his own medicine. I found him alright, and I thought I had beat the shit out of him. I thought I left him for dead in his shitty apartment but I was wrong. They say he ran me off the road, head first into a tree. By the time she had found me I was already bleeding out heavily. The surgery was a success they say, and they say I could wake up today, tomorrow, a year from now, or never at all.
It's when I hear her voice for the first time that I try to open my eyes. And when she leaves I lose my will to fight. But she comes back the next day, and the next, and everyday for the week after and the week after that. She comes back to me begging me to stay with her and I do.
She tells me she misses me, and she knows how I felt when she was gone. She took up the piano for me, and plays me a lullaby. She says my bed doesn't smell like me anymore and moms are fighting because they can't express how much they miss me. She says they adopted Jude, but she declined because no matter what she does, she still loves me.
And I remember her as if we still spoke, I remember the scent of her hair and how good it felt to hold her. I remember how much I love her and how I can't be without her. I remember what it felt like to live. And I realize that the last time I saw her was with tears streaming down her face, and all I wanted to do was see her smile.
"C-C-Callie?"