Page 79 of Chasing Callie
“Yeah. Like when you’d post a picture but no context, I’d fill in the blanks. Create this whole narrative about your day.”
Curiosity swims across her face. “Give me an example.”
I pull out my phone before I lose my nerve, scrolling back through the screenshots I definitely shouldn’t have saved. Finding the one I’m looking for, I turn the screen toward her.
It’s a selfie from last winter, her cheeks pink from cold, the Wollman Rink in Central Park blurred behind her. She’s grinning, snowflakes caught in her dark hair.
“This one.” My voice comes out rough. “I imagined your friends struggling to stay upright on the ice, wobbling around. But not you.”
Her lips part slightly as she stares at the photo.
“I pictured you skating circles around everyone, like you used to do on the pond down Old Basket Road before Mr. Rogers would chase us off his property with his shotgun.” The memory makes me smile despite the ache in my chest. The gun was never loaded, but the four of us screamed and ran away as if it were, scurrying off his property while we laughed. Mr. Rogers’s threats never stopped us from going back. Being on the ice with Callie and my brothers is one of my favorite memories.
“You were fearless on the ice. Still are, apparently.”
“Knox.”
Now that I’ve started, I can’t stop. She has to know how much she means to me. How even when hundreds of miles separated us, her memory was the thing that kept me moving. Somehow, I knew she’d come back to me. “I imagined your hair whipping in the wind, your cheeks getting pinker from the cold and the speed. Everyone else hanging onto the walls while you glided backward.” I’m lost in the fantasy now, the one I’ve played out in my head a hundred times. “And then I imagined myself there, leaning against the boards, watching you.”
“In my head, you’d skate up to me at the end, all breathless and laughing. And you’d. . .” My voice drops to barely a whisper. This is the most shameful part of my fantasy—imagining that she loved me.
“I’d what?”
I clear my throat. “You’d kiss me.”
The silence stretches between us like a taut wire. I force myself to meet her gaze, expecting to see pity or worse, panic. Instead, her eyes are guarded.
“You think I’m fucking crazy.” I start to put my phone away, but her hand shoots out to cover mine.
“No.” Her voice cracks. “Knox, no. That’s not what I think at all.”
“Then what?”
“I-I felt that pain too, you know. Life without you and your brothers was awful. It was like walking around missing this huge part of my heart, and I didn’t know how to function without it.” Her features pinch and she rubs at her sternum. “I made a lot of stupid decisions after I left because I didn’t have you by my side.”
“I was so hurt, Knox. Scared to even think about you guys sometimes. What Penelope did, what I thought you did?” Her breath catches. “Sorry. I’m not mad at you anymore. I know it wasn’t you, but back when I left, it felt like I’d been cut open and left to bleed out.”
My throat constricts. I should have done more to talk to her. To tell her the truth. “Callie,” I begin, but she doesn’t let me finish.
“But I’m so happy I came back.” The words rush out of her, broken and honest. “God, Knox. I missed you so much.” A tear tracks down her cheek.
I reach across the table and brush the tear away. “I missed you too.”
She smiles and blinks rapidly, trying to clear her eyes. “Look at us,” she says with a laugh. “Sitting here crying when we have pad thai in front of us.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m maintaining my reputation as a heartless bastard.”
“Right. That’s why you’ve been mentally ice skating with me in Central Park for the past year.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “Are you going to use that against me?”
“Oh, absolutely. This is high quality evidence. I could extort you.”
“Well shit,” I say, blowing out a breath. But I’m grinning now, and that knot in my chest finally loosens. “Don’t forget, I know where you used to hide your diary.”
She squints at me. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Shrugging, I take a sip of my beer and swallow. “Try me, Alley cat.”
