The first week of school had crept by sluggishly, with little disturbance from Eva or her brainless lackeys. I started to recognize the hierarchy in Castle Rock High. Eva and said gang were at the top of the ladder, while people like Chris (or those that were associated with him) were hanging on to the last rung, second only to the most deplorable nerds (some of which were convinced colour televisions and such other inventions would eventually inhabit every American household as a relatively cheap, commonplace item).

I'd received another note, this time passed to me by Eva's own hand in class when no one was watching. It told me, in not so many words, that I would have a chance to avoid total social suicide, and risk less danger to my wellbeing if I cut off all connections with "that Chambers filth". I gave Eva her answer by crumpling up the paper and flinging at her. It bounced off her head and landed at her feet. The teacher, who had seen none of this, then turned around and ordered Eva to put it in the garbage, along with a sharp reprimand for leaving trash on the floor. She glared at me afterwards, but nothing else was done.

It was Friday night, and Chris and I had just gotten back from school and were lying side by side in my backyard, basking in the warm sun and watching fluffy clouds pass by. These quiet moments were the best; the feeling of Chris' shoulder touching me and the quivers it sent up my arm, the whisper of the lightly blowing grass, and the hushed rustling of the trees as the zephyr breezed through. I still remember the hawk that was circling overhead when Chris shattered this harmony.

"Why didn't you tell me about the note?" Chris asked abruptly. He immediately began to fiddle with a piece of long grass.

I lifted my head up and stared at him in surprise. Not knowing what else to say, I asked, "What note?" After all, there had been more than one. A technicality, but it was arguable nonetheless.

Chris breathed out in agitation, or maybe annoyance. "You know what note, Callie. I'll hazard a guess that it was yellow paper, stuck in our locker, and had writin' on it that looked a lot like that bitch Eva's."

I let my head drop back down to the grass wearily. I wasn't sure which note would have been the optimal one for him to know about. Neither of the two was good, that's for sure. "How do you know about that?" I asked, defeated but curious to know, since both slips of paper had been thrown out.

He sighed and he slumped back down beside me. "I found a note in our locker today, for you. Among the threats, it hinted to me that there had been other notes."

Ah. So he had gotten to our locker first and found it.

Chris turned onto his side; his head propped up on an elbow, he looked intently at me. "Will you tell me now?" he almost whispered, still gazing into my eyes.

My resolution had broken with that one tactful move of his. I couldn't lie with him looking at me so. I told him everything, even the part about Eva and the locker room. By the time I had finished reiterating everything she had said there, Chris was shaking with anger.

"She had no right to say that. She can't even come close to understanding what happened that day. How dare she say that to you." His voice was now a trembling whisper.

Sitting up, I wrapped my arms around my boyfriend and held him tightly. At first he stiffened, still upset, but he quickly relented and buried his face into the crook of my neck.

Chris didn't cry, but I came very close to it. In truth, we were both feeling incredibly cheated, for a few reasons, which were quite similar. Both of us felt cheated out of the type of father that came home after work at played with his children, laughing and smiling. We felt cheated out of the acceptance we deserved in the sole high school of Castle Rock.

"Is every place in the world so…so prejudiced?" Chris asked me when he lifted his head.

"No," I replied, thinking about all the different places I'd lived in. "I mean, some people in the big cities are, but not like this. I guess it's mostly in the small towns where everyone knows everyone else's business."

"I'm sorry I'm dragging you along with this. I just wish people weren't so set in their wrong idea of me."

I shook my head, telling him there was no reason for him to apologize. "One day you'll change their minds, Chris. You'll make them all see how wrong they were." I ran my fingers through his hair. "You were meant for more than this town, Chris. You'll go on to be someone important, make a difference. You're gonna get out of this town."

Chris met my eyes and smiled hesitantly. "Only if you come with me," he said softly, running his fingers down the side of my face.

I smiled and gave him a tender kiss. "I'd follow you to the ends of the earth, Chris Chambers."

Chris' forehead rested on mine; his nose tickled mine. "Same for you, Callie Jordans.".

A door slammed in the yard next door, Chris' yard. We were suprised by the sudden bang and turned towards the source. We were even more suprised to see Mr. Chambers stumble drunkenly onto his backporch and down the steps. He had been away for several days, and usually when he came home he slept for days, sometimes sparing a bit of time to torment his family. He very rarely spent time in his unkempt backyard.

Chris and I stood up to go inside, not relishing the idea of watching his father shoot empty beer cans with the Colt .45 his hand was loosely holding. Chris opened the backdoor and walked in first, holding the door open for me. Something moved in the corner of my eye so I turned my head slightly. What I saw chilled me to the bone. Mr. Chambers had the .45 aimed at me and rose it up in a mock shooting gesture. I quickly stepped into my house, dismissing what I had just seen as I tackled Chris to my living room floor.

A little more than a month passed by, and the most recent trip to my physician notified me that I was now able to participate in gym class, as long as I was cautious. He reminded me that although the incisions had healed nicely, and my body seemed to have adjusted excellently with the absence of the spleen, I was not to forego any of the future appointments made to ensure that that was always the case. Jadedly I agreed and rushed out of there as quickly as I could to meet the gang at the diner. It was, after all, a Saturday afternoon.

I reached Blue Point Diner and made my way to our gang's usual booth. Surprisingly, only half of the gang was sitting there. I slid in next to Chris with a puzzled look on my face. "Where's everyone else?"

Sara, who was sitting across from me beside Gordie, answered my question. "Teddy and Vern have some sort of shops project they have to work on together, and apparently Kadance's mother locked her in the house to teach her how to properly serve tea." She made a face at that last statement.

"That blows," I commiserated. I looked out at the clear October sky and sighed contentedly. The leaves on the trees were just starting to turn colours, and I couldn't wait until they were vivid red, yellow and orange. I didn't enjoy the coolness that came with the season, but it was hardly much to fret about. All I needed right then was long sleeves or a light sweater.

After we shared a plate of nachos, I suggested we go outside and walk along the river. "It'll be fun," I enthused. "We can go watch the ducks and look at the pretty colours of the leaves."

Chris laughed. "Sometimes I wonder about your idea of fun," he teased me. "I'm just kidding," he quickly added with a smile after I gave him a death glare. "I think it's a great idea."

I looked towards Gordie and Sara. They looked at each other for a moment and then agreed. "It's not so cold out yet," Sara replied. "It'd be nice to get out before it is."

The river was as pretty as I'd imagined it would be. Its lucid waters reflected both the cerulean sky and the shades of the leaves. I stopped beside it and watched some ducks paddle by and a frog kick off a rock into the cooling water. Chris came up beside me and put his arm around me while Gordie and Sara walked a little further to the timber bridge. I leaned into him gladly, closing my eyes and enjoying his warmth. I gave a small smile as I thought about how much I loved him. For some unknown reason in this idyllic moment the memory of the incident with Chris' father in the backyard with the gun revisited me.

I can see how that would have been stupid, just forgetting about something like that. But I really believed Mr. Chambers did not pose a substantial threat to me. He hadn't so much as looked at me since that day I went over to Chris' for dinner. The only thing he'd done that hurt me (besides calling me a slut) was indirect, from him hurting his family, specifically Chris. Moreover, I wasn't altogether sure he'd pointed the gun at me; for all I knew, there could have been a squirrel near me.

In the obscured recesses of my mind, I suppose I always knew I was wrong. But it didn't become apparent until much later.