Chapter Two
A few days passed since the dinner. And Brandon was ever more determined to "get it". Like Callie had said.
Because one thing was becoming undeniable, Brandon liked Callie. It was her protective wall that kept getting rebuilt that he liked.
He thought he had gotten through to her, he really did. But then she ran. And that was the challenge.
It was against every rule in the foster book to even think about Callie like that. But that didn't stop any thought running through his head.
He wanted her. Callie could tell that he did, and she tried to ignore it.
Wyatt liked the drama, he thrived on it. Hard to tell, by his demeanor. He enjoyed watching Brandon give looks to Callie, and glaring at him, because it was drama. But he couldn't help it either, Callie was hard not to like. Yes, they were dating, which should mean he liked her from the start, but people like him and Callie didn't play that way. It was interest, than kiss, than like. And the last part was a rarity.
But for both boys, Callie was different. One just knew how girls like Callie worked, and Callie knew how he worked. It was easy. The other, was different for her. Boys like that had showed interest in her, but not repeatedly. They didn't give her brooding stairs that made her wish to go back in time and not run away.
Callie couldn't help noticing Brandon right back. Though she was more discreet about it.
She knew he always went to bed later than everyone else, whether he was reading or listening to music. Some late nights she heard clicking, only to find Brandon with his Keyboard turned off, but him playing it. He was a night creature. And a day one too. Did he ever sleep, she had started wondering this. It had become her routine; go to sleep, and then wake up a few hours later, to listen through the walls at what Brandon was doing that night.
She hated she did this, but still she did. Every night like clockwork.
But she was delusional like he was. She knew whatever thoughts she had listening to him late at night, had to be gone by morning. Admitting anything she thought at night, would be bad. She had something at stake here, he didn't.
That's another thing, Brandon would never get. Being able to lose something. The threat of losing something hanging on the line. He didn't have that threat.
But here she sat, at one at night. Listening to the clicking from next door.
What did he think about? What was keeping him up? Had he always done this, or was Callie and Jude's presence driving him to late hours for privacy?
Next door to Callie the clicking continued.
There was Brandon. Calmly pressing keys that made no sound. It seemed a little mad to him, to sit in a room and press buttons that did nothing, but somewhere inside him it calmed him.
It calmed him from everything he thought during the day. The way Wyatt was with Callie. The looks Callie had passed at him, that were icier than kind, but he felt the ice melting. Soon they'd talk again. Not just the occasionally getting, the kind of talking where she confessed pieces of her past. He longed for those moments, where he was let inside her brain. He could look past it all, but he also understood that if she wanted to tell she would.
With all these thoughts, he pressed keys, and tried to forget it all.
Somewhere in his mind he knew they both had everything to lose, if anything happened, but he didn't care. He wanted Callie, in any way she would let him.
Like an answered prayer, there was a knock on the door to his room. Tip-tap. A light unsure sound.
Outside the door, Callie was ready to plead insanity. She pushed the door open.
"Hey," Brandon said slightly shocked by his new visitor.
Was that all he ever said to her, she wondered slightly.
She sat down on his bed across from him and his key board.
"Hey," she answered back, folding one leg underneath her.
Was this breaking Foster House rules? That was the thought crossing both their minds as the silence overcame them.
"Couldn't sleep?" he questioned eventually drawing out every syllable.
"Do you ever?" she asks back, he smiles lightly. What was she doing here? That was the question that went unanswered between both of them. Neither knew.
"Not enough hours in the day," he replied, a small smile etched on his the corners of his mouth.
He didn't have anything to smile about. Not yet anyway. He still wondered what Callie was doing here, but he didn't prod.
"So how you've been? I feel like we haven't talked since I came home drunk," Callie questions, a little midnight air affecting her normal state, she was just a bit crazy enough to flirt, but would she with Brandon?
"We haven't really," he admitted, "I've been pretty crappy," he decided on honesty.
"Why's that," she heard herself asking, although it did not go through her brain beforehand.
His look said it all. She should know, and she did. Wyatt.
"What's the big deal about Wyatt?" she questioned wondering if the late night was getting to him as well.
Through the haze of sleepy eyes, she saw Brandon. How cliché was her brain being? But she did. He was tall with brown hair, and caring eyes. He wouldn't do anything to hurt someone, and he held some of her most important secrets. And he knew some explanations, too.
So why didn't she trust him? She had too much to lose, which she had to remind herself. Or his always half-awake eyes, and lazy smile would get to her. And she didn't get got to. She was Callie.
The late night always got to Brandon. He was more open, if that were possible. But this was the rare times he let himself be selfish. Usually no one was awake for him to be selfish to though.
So there eyes met in the silence, and everything was said they couldn't say, for their different reasons. I'm here. I care. Let me be how I know how. These words like a song between their eyes, nothing was said. But nothing needed to be. It was his eyes, that made Callie forget. She forgot about her past, she forgot about what she had to lose, and she just was. His eyes were the relief she had needed. It had been so long since she had just been Callie. Not Callie in foster care with all the baggage.
"He's with you," Brandon admitted quietly, looking anywhere by Callie.
She fought back anger, as she stood up, whatever intimate moment they had had was over. Those words shook her back to reality. That's right, Callie. You're Callie with baggage now, and Brandon is feigning like he gives a damn, because you're interesting.
"Yeah. Well that shouldn't bother you," she said, her familiar position coming back, arms crossing over her chest.
"And why not," he questions, knowing he'll hate the answer.
"Because Brandon. You and I, will never happen," she takes another dangerous step closer to where Brandon was sitting.
"And why not," he repeats. The most daring he's ever been. He wanted a reason. He deserved a damn reason on why Callie couldn't be with him. Sure there were a dozen in the back of his head, but he needed to here hers. That was truly the only one that mattered.
"And don't say, I don't get it. I get it. You're scared, Callie. I see that, and I get that," he says quickly, taking away the only reason she truly had had blindsided her.
But that was it. He got the man reason, and she was terrified. Her body shook with terror, and hate, and confusion.
"No. I'm protecting myself. Something you've never had to do. Now if you don't mind I'll go now," she said turning on her heels.
"Why'd you come in here," he asked, hoping for any sort of answer.
Callie decided he deserved one. After all of everything she'd said and done and thought, he deserved a reason to why she had entered his room late at night.
She took a deep breath. All she had to do was leave one piece on the line, and maybe, maybe, he'd be satisfied to leave her alone. She let down her wall for just a second, as the words tumbled from her mouth.
"I was feeling lonely. And I heard you," she nodded towards the key board before leaving the room quickly.
But Callie had gotten it wrong. Letting a piece of her wall down only encouraged Brandon. He know wanted to know even more about her, he had to.
He thought about what she had said you, I heard you. Of course she had. Her room, her bed where two feet from her, through a wall of plaster. He knocked lightly on the plaster. And received a light knock back.
Now he was fully encouraged. He would figure out a way to break down her wall, and he would also figure out a way around the walls.
Callie settled under the blankets in the bed she was given. What had she done? She let him know, she cared. She shared a burning look with fire, that fire was also called Brandon. But she would get burned if she got to close.
That was something they both knew. No matter how it happened or how it ended, somebody got hurt. Things couldn't break without a little pain.