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Brandon was drawn by the familiar chords, simple notes played by a single guitar. He followed the music, silently walking down the hall, stopping just outside Callie and Mariana’s room. The door left ajar, he could barely hear Callie’s voice over the twang of the guitar.
“I think we might be outlaws. I think I might be in love,” she sang, the words wet and wobbly. “'Cause I’m all out of reasons, like seasons, Winter, summer, fall, they’re all washed up.”
Playing Outlaws so frequently with Someone’s Little Sister, the song so far removed from it’s quiet acoustic origin, had lost its sting and became just another song to him. Now, in Callie’s soft alto, the words full with her broken heart, each spoken lyric cut like shattered glass.
“If you’re still way over there, maybe slide on in by my side, ‘Cause I’m just an outlaw, wanted if you want me.” With a shuddered breath, she stopped playing and spoke the last line, “I love you everyday and every– night.” Then there was the heavy thud of body meeting guitar, and the quietest sob ever heard.
With the tips of his fingers, Brandon pushed open the door. He found Callie on her bed, collapsed over her guitar, her body shaking with silent tears. Had he not noticed her playing, no one would have known she’d been crying.
“We can’t be in this together.” His words came up fresh in his mind, as he wondered how many times over the past seven years she’d had to keep her tears secret. Now, she kept them even from him.
He blinked until his vision cleared and knocked on the door frame.
Callie’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise and her hair a mess of brown waves around her shoulders. She hurriedly wiped the tears from her face. “Sorry,” she said with an embarrassed laugh, “I didn’t know anyone was up here.”
“Problem with a family this sized,” Brandon replied with a shrug, “It’s hard to find a place to be alone for long.”
He leaned against the doorway, folding his arms against his chest, fighting the urge to hold her.
“I’ve never heard you play it before,” he remarked with a nod to the guitar. “I didn’t realize you knew it that well.”
“You heard that, huh?” she answered, chewing on her bottom lip.
Brandon felt like the air was being sucked out of the room, making it increasingly hard to breathe. “Why?–Why play it now?”
She looked away from his face, placed the guitar down beside her, and folded her arms. “I was, um– I was thinking about the first time you played it for me.” She cleared her throat and sniffed. “In that moment, we were so happy. I was happy. I just–”
Her gaze shifted back to him, eyes red and watery, chin quivering, the cords of her throat tight as she fought not to cry. For awhile, she just looked at him, not saying a word.
He felt it. The pull. The need to go to her–the ache in his chest that was almost crippling. He tightened his hands to fists, his fingers wanting to wipe the tears from her eyes.
“I got what I wanted,” she nodded with a tight smile. “I’m adopted– It just cost me the person that I love, who happens to also be my best friend, and to pretend like I feel nothing at all. To act like everytime I see you, I don’t want to burst into tears.”
“Callie,” he said, half warning and half pleading for her not to continue.
These moments were the dangerous ones. These moments were when they broke, and he couldn’t do it again. Every time he kissed her, bits of his heart burned away when he inevitably had to lock it all away again.
“It’s not your fault,” she said, while a tear dripped down her cheek. “It was my choice. Always my choice.”
Brandon closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Will it always be like this? he wondered. Will it ever stop hurting?
“Brandon?”
He opened his eyes and looked at her. Even tear stained and stubbornly fighting back her emotions, she was still the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.
“I want you to know, I don’t regret it–what happened in Idyllwild.” Callie promised, fierce determination reflected in her brown eyes. “It was one of the happiest moments of my life, and I don’t have too many of those–so, don’t feel guilty, okay?”
Brandon nodded. “Me too,” he choked out. “I mean, no regrets.”
“Good.” She pressed her lips tightly together, her face crumpling as she lost the fight against her grief. “Now can you do me a favor?”
“What?”
“Can you go? I need to be alone now.” With that, she laid down and rolled to her side- facing the wall, pulling her knees tight against her chest.
He slowly shut the door behind him and leaned against it, a whole new wave of pain crashing against him. This was not like last time. This was so much worse.
It was possible this time around, everything wasn’t going to be okay.