Three weeks. It had been three weeks since anyone in the Foster household had seen Callie. Everyone knew that Stef was trying her hardest, always pulling late shifts, doing everything she could, in order to locate the girl, who just prior to her disappearance, had agreed to become her adopted daughter. An unnatural silence had fallen over the house, blanketing everyone in a dreary fog. Even Jesus had cut down on the amount of jokes he cracked. With Callie gone, and Lexi leaving, his grin seemed less genuine lately. Mariana had obviously been feeling the stress from her two missing friends as well, spending more and more time on her computer, emailing Lexi and Callie, attempting to reach them. Jude was doing better than Brandon thought he would. For the most part he was quieter than he had been when Callie was around, and he spent most of his time hovering around Lena who was always there, trying to make him smile, reminding him that everything would be okay. But Brandon knew that Jude blamed himself. Sometimes at night he could hear the younger boy crying, his shuddering sobs wracking his small body. On nights like that he would enter Brandon's bedroom and sit at the foot of the bed. He would stay there; listening to Brandon's faint piano playing until he fell asleep, then Brandon would lift him up and carry him back to his own bed. He knew what it was like. He knew how Jude felt, with the guilt gnawing at his insides. That's why he stayed awake, for hours on end, letting his fingers drift across the keys of his keyboard, over and over again, as he pictured Callie smiling at him as she joined in the song on her guitar. Brandon glanced over to the clock he had on his desk. 5:37. He stood up from the hard bench, wincing at the numbness that gripped his limbs, and roughly plowing his hands through his hair. He sprawled out on his bed, turning his head to gaze out the window. Rain drummed on the roof top and he watched puddles form on the streets below, the streetlight throwing shadows against row after row of houses. Brandon's eyes began to flutter shut, and with a shaky breath, slipped into sleep.
A crack of thunder jarred Brandon from his rest a short time later. It was still dark out, but the rain was coming down harder. The clock had shifted its slow hands to 6:15 in the morning. There was no point in going back to sleep now, not with school approaching quickly. Besides, he couldn't have even if he wanted to. Since Callie had left he hadn't been sleeping more than a few hours a night, if he was lucky. So, with that in mind, he rolled off his bed and began preparing for his day.
School was a blur. Brandon's eyes were permanently unfocused, he was emotionally and physically exhausted. His classes bored him. They dragged on and seemed less and less interesting as the days passed. All he wanted was to escape to the music room with Callie, to have her all to himself. What he would give to hear her laugh or to see her smile at him. He shut his eyes, hard. He tried to stay in his mind and block out the rest of the world. He thought about how Callie would roll her eyes at him if she knew he was ignoring school, she was always calling him the golden child. The idea made him grin. Then a hand on his shoulder retrieved him from his daydream. He looked up to see Talyas expectant face bestowing a wide smile on him. When she saw she had his attention she leaned down and pressed her lips to his. It was a familiar feeling, warm and pleasant. He gave her a small smile in return. Talya was trying, and even if he was capable of detecting a vague happiness emanating off of her ever since Callie had left, she was doing her best; For him. The bell rang signalling the end of the day and Talya grabbed his hand and led him through the bustling hallways. As they walked she began to fill him in on the latest gossip that was circulating the school seemingly without stopping to take a breath. He could do this, he thought. Talya was a good girl, yes they'd had their differences, but she was good to him. If Callie was ever going to come home he had to move on from her. If he was ever going to have her in his life he would make it okay. Being with Talya wasn't hard. Being with Callie was one of the most difficult things he'd ever faced in his life. But he was certain, no matter how much effort he had to put forth, he had to find a way to keep Callie. He could grow to see her as a friend, as a foster sister, any way that meant he could be around her, was worth it. With that in mind he and Talya ran hand in hand to his car, dodging the bullets of the ever persistent rain.
That night Talya stayed for dinner. The entire family seemed content for the first time in a while. They talked and laughed whilst sharing stories about their days. Jesus was in the middle of a particularly graphic tale about how a surprised Mariana had shot milk out of her nose during lunch when Talya leaned in towards Brandon, telling him that she had to get home in order to finish homework. They excused themselves from the table and walked towards the front door. Brandon placed his hands on Talyas waist and kissed her. The kiss was slow and delicate, friendly and safe. Brandon smiled at her and she gave him a peck on the lips once more before she headed out the door, waving behind her as she hurried to the car to avoid getting wet. By the time Brandon returned to the dining room everyone had finished eating and Stef was pleading with Lena to go get ice cream. With the Fosters being happier than they had seemed in weeks Lena couldn't say no, and requested that the family go see a movie as well. Although he hated to disappoint his family Brandon declined the offer, telling them he had too much homework to do, which wasn't untrue, but he wasn't going to do it. Mostly he had just run out of energy. The idea of having the house to himself so he could decompress appealed to him immensely. Instead of piling into the car with everyone else Brandon stood in the door way and waved as they drove down the water logged street. The night itself was warm, despite the rain. It felt good. It wakened Brandon up somewhat. He stood there, watching the droplets pour from the sky. Then he was seized by the desire to go outside. He had to feel the water run over his skin. He needed it to soak his clothes and hair. Callie had told him once, in one of the rare moments when she revealed something about herself, that she loved the rain. She had told him that she used to run through the streets while the rain proceeded to tumble down from the heavens as she gazed wistfully out at darkening sky. Now he had to do the same. He wanted to feel closer to her. Maybe, in wherever Callie was, it was raining too. His legs carried him a few steps out of the front door until he began to feel the cool water wash over him. He closed his eyes and tilted his head up to the sky, his lips parting ever so slightly so raindrops fell onto his tongue. He stood there, absolutely still, his heart pounding in his chest, reminding him of how very alive he was. And as he cherished that fact, he thought of Callie's heartbeat; hopefully beating right along with his, somewhere, in the pouring rain. He smiled wide and laughed at the darkness above him. By then he was completely soaked through, and began to turn around when he heard something from down the driveway.
"Brandon?" her voice inquired.
Suddenly his heart wasn't beating; it was pounding, like a hundred drums being play a thousand ways. His voice got stuck in his throat. He managed only one word. It came out as a breath, somewhere between a gasp and a sigh.
"Callie."