Clinch: Chapter Four
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Being no one else was home; Callie pushed her homework aside and went to answer the phone. The caller-ID extravagantly declared the name 'Momma', and a wave of anxiety overcame her. Should she tell them about her Vico Theory?—no, it wasn't a theory, it was a fact. Vico hurt Brandon—that, she was certain.
But would she tell them?
She had to. Wait, no, she couldn't—it might lead to Brandon getting in trouble. But she should—Vico had to be stopped. He would not get away with this. But...
No. She was telling them. Secrets have the power to destroy lives. She learned that the hard way.
"Hello?" Callie answered quietly.
"Callie," said Lena, her voice laced with exhaustion, fear, and weariness. "Hi, sweetie. How's everything going over there? Is everyone alright? How are you?"
"Um, everything's fine, everyone's fine," Callie answered, and then asked awkwardly; "How are you guys doing? How's...how's Brandon?"
"Well, so far there are no complications with the surgery, which is positive. The other injuries are healing slowly but surely. They're keeping him sedated for just a little bit longer."
"I'm glad to hear that."
"So are we." Lena sighed. "You're sure everything's okay over there? Do you need anything?"
"No, we're okay." Callie paused. "Are...are you gonna be home soon?"
"Everyone here's been telling us we should—especially with all of you at home. But Brandon's not going to be able to just go home after he wakes up; we'll be here a lot. I can barely pry mom away from the hospital room for a glass of water."
"Oh, okay."
"You guys can come see him when it's not as...critical. I miss all of you so much."
"We miss you too."
"Alright, sweetie, I gotta get back. We'll be home very soon, I promise. Love you."
"Love you too," Callie said, but then her eyes widened when she remembered what she was about to say. "Wait,"
"Yeah, honey?"
Great. How was she going to put this?
"I, um," Callie inhaled, clutching the phone tighter. "I think I know who...who did this to him."
There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Well, who?"
"Vico,"
Another pause. "Vico? Are you sure?"
"I'm-I'm pretty sure,"
"Mike said the exact same thing." Callie was certain Lena hadn't meant for her to hear that. "Why?"
"Well, remember the whole fake-ID thing? When Brandon and Vico were in the office together?"
"How could I forget?" Lena mumbled.
"Vico..." Callie took a deep breath. No more secrets. "He got kicked off the wrestling team. He was gonna get a scholarship for it. He blamed Brandon for ruining it for him. So...I think Vico tried to ruin Brandon's piano thing by screwing up his hand...and kinda beating the rest of him up along with it."
There, she said it.
But she wouldn't reveal that she'd actually spoken to Vico.
"Okay," Lena breathed; a new, hurried tone in her voice. "Okay. I'm gonna talk to mom about that. Thank you for telling me, Callie. We'll get this all straightened out. I don't want you to worry about anything, okay?"
"Okay." Callie suddenly felt exhausted.
"Love you, honey. Tell everyone we love them, and that we'll be there soon. Bye."
"Bye," Callie breathed, clicking the phone off.
As the doctors performed x-rays on Brandon's hand and jaw, analyzed all of the other injuries, and checked the frightening equipment surrounding him, Stef, Lena, and Mike stood right outside the hospital room, discussing the conspiracy that Callie of all people had spilled to them.
"It makes sense, it really does." Stef breathed, rubbing her forehead with her fingers.
"I'm surprised Callie told you all this." Mike said, folding his hands across his stomach.
"Which makes me suspicious as to where she got it from, but I guess that doesn't matter right now." Lena sighed. "But still, just because it makes sense doesn't mean it happened."
"I had that kid in mind from the start." Mike said under his breath.
"Congrats, Sherlock," Stef mumbled from the seat she'd plopped down in.
"Don't start."
"Look," Lena interrupted. "Callie made it sound like Vico blamed Brandon for ruining his wrestling dream or whatever, and that Vico apparently got back at him by ruining his piano dream. That's what makes sense. You don't slam someone's hand into a door that hard and leave it there without a reason."
"It was more than the hand." Stef chimed in, miserably.
"I'm aware."
"Here's the thing; if we question him through the police, it might dig up all the fake-ID stuff, and get Brandon in trouble." Mike said.
"Which is exactly our problem," Lena sighed.
"If Vico even mentioned anything about the fake-IDs, whether it's for his defense or some other thing, it would just get him in more trouble than he already would be. He can't get Brandon in trouble without getting himself thrown under the bus too." Stef yawned after speaking.
"What if we're just accusing a random kid?" Lena sat down too.
"Vico's not a random kid. He's someone who wants revenge on Brandon, and has hurt him before. He showed that with his Winter Dance charade." Mike added.
"So, what do we do? He's not proven guilty." Lena leaned back in her chair.
"We have a police report started, Captain already knows." Stef said. "But they couldn't go anywhere with it without a suspect. But now we have one."
"Can't go anywhere without a witness, either. You know Vico wouldn't admit to anything, and we wouldn't be able to prove he's wrong." Mike looked at her pointedly.
"Any other discoveries, Mister Holmes?" Stef asked sarcastically.
"Your sarcasm is just lovely." Mike replied.
"He says as he ridicules sarcasm by using it."
"Enough," Lena groaned. "So, the only witness is Brandon himself, right?"
"Right,"
"Great," Lena groaned, closing her eyes and resting her head against the wall.
As a tense silence fell upon them, Mike took note of how obviously exhausted Stef and Lena were. They could barely hold themselves upright in their chairs, their eyes fighting to remain open against their heavy eyelids. How long had they been there? Almost three-and-a-half days now? Without going home once? Hell, if they didn't get some rest, they'd look no better than Brandon did.
"Why don't you two go home and get some rest?" Mike proposed gently.
Stef and Lena looked at him like he'd just grown a second head, and they slumped back into their chairs.
Mike sighed. "You guys will be more of a help to Brandon if you're healthy and well-rested. I'll be here with him the whole time."
"Can we actually trust you on that?" Stef snapped.
Ouch.
"Stef," Lena warned.
"Don't start this, Stef. Don't even go there with me." Mike sighed. "Look, you have four other kids at home that haven't seen you in three-and-a-half days. They need you guys. They need you, and you need them."
Stef and Lena's stubborn faces slightly softened.
"Not to mention, you need to take care of yourselves. You're exhausted. Go home and relax." Mike then playfully added; "Brandon's not going anywhere."
Stef and Lena's faces flashed from stubborn to reluctant to worried.
"Seven hours. That's all I ask. They're taking him off the sedative at eight, which is in eight hours. Go home for seven hours, take care of yourselves, take care of the other kids—the ones who haven't seen you in days. Okay? I'll be here with him the entire time. I swear it."
Stef and Lena passed each other stubborn, questioning, and thoughtful looks, and finally, Lena said to Stef; "For the other kids. They're ours too, you know."
"If you don't stay true to your word—" Stef hissed. Lena led her by the arm out the door.
"I will. Now go home, Psycho."
"So," said a smug-sounding voice from somewhere behind her. "Brandon hasn't been in school in a few days."
Startled, Callie spun around, and was met with a smirking strawberry-blonde.
Speak of the devil.
Talya leaned against a set of lockers, and stared Callie down with a complacent expression on her face.
"What do you want?" Callie asked, angry but unsure.
Talya shrugged; a playful smirk on her lips. "You know, Callie, you ruined his life."
"Get away from me." Callie demanded through clenched teeth. No. She was so not doing this right now.
Talya laughed, looking at Callie with ridiculing eyes. "It's true, you know. You completely screwed up his entire life. I watched. Brandon's just too stupid to realize it."
"Listen," Callie hissed. "You know nothing. You know nothing about how he is or what his life is like. Don't talk about things you don't understand."
"Funny," She crossed her arms. "He said the exact same thing."
"What do you even want?"
Talya seemed to ignore this. "You two are the laughing stock of this school. Anything good Brandon ever had here—it's gone."
"You really think he cares about that? You don't even know what he's going through right now." Callie snapped.
"You don't know that. Don't talk about things you don't understand." Talya repeated mockingly. "When you piss someone like Vico off, and he gets you alone—in the dark, it's not that hard to figure out what happens next."
Callie slammed her locker shut, glaring at Talya with daggers in her eyes. "What did you know about this?"
"I knew enough."
"And you did nothing to stop it? I thought you still cared about him." Callie said mockingly.
"Callie," Talya sighed, fake-sympathetically. "If I still cared about Brandon, that whole plan at the Winter Dance would have never happened."
"Get out of my face. And don't come near me again."
"What, are you gonna punch me, Juvie Girl?"
Callie took a mental note of how frequently that pet name was used. Turning her back, she blinked an annoying tear away, and stormed off, not looking back once.
"Lover Boy and Juvie Girl—the incestic match made in heaven." Talya's voice rang in her eardrums, far behind her.