The Redemption of Callie and Kayden by Jessica Sorensen Page A

on the bed on my side.
    “I’m just wondering what it’s going to be like… seeing him again.”

    He considers this as he sweeps his bangs off his face. “It’ll be
    like the first time I decided I was going to talk to you. You have to think of Kayden like a skittish cat. If you say the wrong thing, he
    might flip out.”

    “You thought of me as a skittish cat?”

    “A skittish kitten.” He grins and winks at me. “You looked like
    you were going to claw my eyes out the moment I approached
    you.”

    I fluff the pillow and tuck my hands under my head. “What if
    I say something wrong, though, and he gets upset?”

    He unlatches his watch and rolls to the side to set it on the
    Tupperware bin next to the bed. Then he pivots to his hip and
    faces me. “You won’t.”

    I lift my legs up and slide them underneath the blankets.
    “How can you be so sure?”

    He smiles and touches the tip of his finger to the tip of my
    nose. “Because he opened up to you the first time, which means
    you’ve already said the right things. So all you have to do is go
    there tomorrow and be yourself.”

    “I hope you’re right.” I click the lamp off and the room goes
    dark. The pale glow of the moonlight filters in through the window.
    “I really hope you are.”

    “I’m always right, darling,” he says, and then squeezes my
    hand. “Just don’t overthink it.”

    I shut my eyes and hold onto the thought that tomorrow I’ll
    see him, alive, and not bleeding on the floor. Maybe then I can
    finally get the god-awful image out of my head.
    Kayden

    It’s mid-December, the start of winter break. If I weren’t here,
    I’d be heading home from school, probably with Callie and Luke.
    It’s weird knowing she’s probably driving into town right now, just
    getting home, so close to me in distance, and yet she still seems
    far away, almost unreachable, since I’m stuck in here and she’s out
    there.

    I’ve secretly been collecting rubber bands and I have five of
    them on my wrist. Not that Doug knows it. I kept pretending that I
    broke them until I had a collection. The thickness gives more of a
    sting and it settles me on the inside each time I flick them. I need a lot of settling because my mother showed up tonight and has
    been here for over an hour trying to work things out with the
    doctor and Doug to get me released.

    They’re over by the doorway having a conversation about me
    like I’m not even here. It’s actually more of an argument than a
    conversation.

    “But we’ll be there watching him at all times.” My mother
    talks with her hands a lot and she’s got long fingernails. Every time she says something she swings her arms animatedly and almost
    nails the doctor in the eye.

    Doug fans through his yellow-sheeted notebook and reads
    through his notes. “Look, Mrs. Owens, I know this must be hard for
    you, but I don’t think it’s healthy for Kayden to leave the facility
    just yet. In fact, I’d advise against it.”

    My mother taps her foot on the floor and crosses her arms
    as she stares Doug down like he is a small, insignificant piece of
    shit. “Look, I understand what you advise, but I’d rather not take
    advice from a doctor who got his PhD from some low-budget
    college.”

    “I got my PhD from Berkley,” he says, pulling out a pen from
    his pocket.

    Her gaze sweeps over him and she elevates her eyebrows.
    “Really? Then why are you here?”

    Doug stays calm as he balances the notebook on his arm
    and writes something down. “I might be asking you the same
    thing.”

    I think I like Doug at that moment and I smile to myself as I
    wiggle my finger under the bands and flip them against the inside
    of my wrist and let the burn soothe me. I’m sitting in the corner of
    the room, not the one I sleep in but a larger one with a lot of
    tables and chairs scattered around. The walls are brick and cracked
    with old age, but it’s more comforting than the dull white ones in
    the room.