Chapter Forty

I settled into a routine, one that wasn't particularly amusing, but at least livable.

I'd wake up every morning at eleven, creep into the shower in hopes of avoiding Sawyer in my towel, have breakfast with him and Lauren (Tess was an early riser) and go out to the beach to hang out with the group of temporary friends I'd made.

We were all of slightly varying ages, from about fourteen to eighteen. We were all jocks or cheerleaders. We were clichéd beautiful people that hung out on the beach all summer because we had absolutely nothing better to do. We bitched about our tans and flirted outrageously, we played beach volleyball in skimpy bikinis.

I was half-heartedly making out with a blonde boy, Jesse, the day that my life changed forever. We were in semi-darkness on the beach, for once not surrounded by the usual horde of other blonde people.

I glanced at my watch over his shoulder.

"Oh, we have to go," I said, pulling down. He got up onto his forearms.

"Now?"

"Yeah, we said we're supposed to meet everyone on the boardwalk," I reminded him.

"Can't it wait?" he asked.

"Jesse, I'm not having sex with you," I told him. He rolled away and allowed me to get out from under him. I smoothed out my white and red sundress.

"Are you a virgin?" he asked finally. I glanced irritably at him.

"Yes."

"Oh. I thought you and Sawyer…"

"He told you that?" I said sharply. He shook his head.

"No. It's just what everyone thinks. Come on," he said. He took my hand and led me to the place we always met our friends in the evening.

We talked and laughed, being as cool as people ever were in the town-much smaller than even Tree Hill. Someone passed around a joint.

"Hey, look," said Sawyer, gesturing to his right. I looked. An abandoned basketball court came into sight.

"You play?" asked a tall, busty, dark haired girl.

"I can hold my own," he said flirtatiously.

"Let's play," spoke up another of the girls. She was small, like me, but a couple years younger. She was pretty in a not so obvious way, with dark hair and vaguely familiar blue eyes.

"You got game?" asked Sawyer of her.

"Yeah," she said in slight annoyance. I giggled at the obvious rejection.

"You playing, Cal?" he asked, looking over his shoulder. I nodded slowly.

We quickly assigned teams. Sawyer and I, along with a girl I knew, Sandra, and a boy, Kevin, were against the blue eyed girl, Jesse, and two others. The rest of them took to the stands, passing around bottles of beer and cigarettes.

Sawyer won the thing with the ball in the beginning, and passed an easy shot to me. I dribbled for a few feet before glancing over my shoulder at him. He ran to me, and lifted me up by the waist so I could make the shot. The entire group cheered as I did so.

The girl and I met in the middle. Sawyer dropped the ball in front of us, and she easily got it. She sent it toward the net from well beyond the three point line, and it made it in. Sawyer looked at her, obviously surprised.

I lunged for Jesse and jumped on his back as soon as he was near enough to take a shot. He allowed his free hand to roam my upper thigh, and I slid off him in disgust, losing my balance in the process.

I fumbled three steps backwards before I ran into something solid. Hands gripped my shoulders, steadying me. I turned around slowly to face him. His hands stayed on my shoulders.

"Thanks," I whispered. He nodded, and released me as he took the ball in his hands.

Jesse was tall and strong, with the build of a basketball player, but the girl was the real competition. She was crafty and skilled, and it took a surprising amount of Sawyer's vast skill for us to win.

I charged at him when at last we'd won, into his waiting arms. It was so familiar. We'd always done this. He spun me around and set me gently down as the crowd whistled.

"Good game," said Sawyer, shaking her hand. I shook hers next.

"That was incredible. What's your name?" I asked.

"Lucy Wheeler," she said briefly. "Yours?"

"Callie Jagielski."

"He's your boyfriend?" she asked, indicating Sawyer.

"No, just a friend. Why, you like him?" I asked.

"God no. How old are you?" she asked.

"Seventeen."

"I'm just fourteen," she said, looking almost embarrassed.

"Okay. Where do you live?" I asked, getting on with the list of mandatory questions.

"California."

"Cool, I live in North Carolina," I told her. She nodded, seemingly uninterested.

"Let's play truth or dare," suggested the same busty dark haired girl.

"What are we, twelve?" asked another boy, sounding game despite this.

We began to play, dares made up mainly of making out with a stranger, truths of how far we'd gone.

Lucy spoke up after she'd completed her dare of flashing the most attractive boy her age.

"Sawyer Scott. I dare you to… kiss Callie," she said. I whipped my face around to look at hers, and she winked.

"Sawyer's not going to…"

"As if," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder to turn me to face him and covering my mouth with his.

It took us about half a second to sink in to the kiss, to fall back to our old habits and desires. His fingers roamed my lacy bra strap, mine traveled tantalizingly down his back. I became vaguely aware of the whistles of the brainless pretty people around us, but I didn't care particularly.

My other hand somehow wound up caressing his neck. As his went around my waist, we were pressed completely together, like the day in the library.

He pulled away, surprising me.

"Are you going to leave again?" he asked.

"No," I said in confusion.

"You're sure? Sure you're not going to change your mind in five minutes and drag my heart through town?" he asked.

"Why are you being like this?"

"You know what I want, Callie Jagielski. And I thought you I knew what you wanted. But apparently, you need a little more time to sort out your priorities," he said harshly.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I said angrily.

"I can only take so much," he said, giving me back my wrist and departing in a rush.

I couldn't follow him. My pride wouldn't allow me to. But apparently, I'd already damaged his pride beyond repair.

I hung around with my friends long enough to avoid suspicion before leaving.

I silently eased the door open and crept into the dark beach house. I tip toed past the open door to the dining room, but was stopped, suddenly, by a voice:

"You really think we'd go to bed?" asked Haley Scott. I looked into the room-the four of them were sitting around a table, accompanied by an open bottle of wine, the lighting dim. I blushed.

"Sorry."

"Sawyer's not back yet, is he with you?" asked Uncle Nathan.

"No, I haven't seem him in a while," I said.

"I'm sure he'll be in soon," said Mom, analyzing me with her eyes. Suddenly I was worried she knew what had happened.

"I'm going to bed," I said. I entered the room and bid goodnight to the lot of them before departing for my room.

I stopped at the top floor in the familiar hallway. It was the last day in Maine. The time had come to make a choice.

I could go into my door. Continue on the way I had been with Sawyer, missing him and resenting everything I heard about him and other girls.

Or I could go into his room. Wait for him, do everything with him, trust him with my heart, accept that he was the only one for me.

It was a scary thought, the thought of so much trust. If I entered his room and his bed, there would be no backing out. The deal would finally be sealed. I'd be his and he'd be mine.

The door of my room beckoned to me. It was the easy way out. There was no easier. And Sawyer and me would happen eventually either way, that was fairly undeniable. Did I want to use my time as I'd been using it, hooking up with random hot guys who did nothing for me? Wanting Sawyer to come and be protective so he'd at least look at me?

Did anyone in the world really know what they wanted?

The better side of me won. I turned to the left, opened the door. It took a long moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, to the obviously empty bed. I slipped my sundress of my shoulders, carefully placed my bra and underwear in the same pile. Fumbling, I made it to the bed and carefully sat down in the centre of it, wrapping the covers around my body.

When he came in, a half hour later, I was ready. In the darkness, our eyes met in confusion. He took a hesitant step toward me.

"I want you," I said simply. He came closer.

"I love you," he promised.