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Callie’s seventeenth birthday seemed to pass quietly. It was a Sunday, but the store was too swamped for her father to take off. He left before she woke up, and Callie awoke to find a card with her name written on the front and a small gift bag left on her bedside table.
If it were any other year, Callie would’ve walked out to the kitchen, still half-asleep, to see her mother making pancakes. She would’ve gotten a warm smile from her and a “happy birthday, sweetheart”, and the pair of them would probably get along marginally better for the day. Her mom usually was willing to give her a bit more leeway on her birthday. That evening, when her dad got home, they’d go bowling before they went out to dinner. Callie usually rolled her eyes and scoffed at her parents’ attempts at a “fun” birthday, counting down the seconds until they went home and she could hang out with her friends.
This year, though, she missed it.
She was staying at a motel with her dad because her mom was, as it happened, not only a psycho murderer, but was also wildly paranoid, and possibly a threat to their safety.
Callie picked up the card off her nightstand, opening up the envelope. Inside, there was a card with a picture of a grinning unicorn wishing her a “magical” birthday. She looked it over, reading the message written inside.
Happy Birthday Cals!!!
I couldn’t be more proud of you. Everything’s gonna work out. I’ll be home early today to celebrate.
Love, Dad
The words made her heart ache, though she couldn’t pinpoint why. All of it, she supposed? How different her parents really were struck her oddly. How they ever got together was anyone’s guess. She reached over inside the gift bag, finding a small jewelry box with a silver necklace inside. She remembered asking her dad for it earlier that year, when things like jewelry still felt like they matter.
Still, it was nice. Callie put it on, brushing her hair aside to do the clasp. She stood up from the bed, still in her pajamas, and walked to the mirror. For the first time ever on her birthday, she actually felt older. Maybe it was just that she was tired. She hadn’t been sleeping well since her mom started being paranoid and acting crazy. Or since her dad maybe-probably killed that cop. Or since she became an accomplice to murder. Or since her mom had murdered her boyfriend. Or–
Well, she could go on.
Callie combed her fingers through her hair, letting out a long sigh. She supposed there could be worse birthdays, after all.
The day passed uneventfully. With her phone line disconnected, there weren’t any “happy birthday” texts from any of her friends, or even from any brands advertising a coupon, which oddly, she felt herself missing just as much. There was no text from her mom, either.
Which, of course, was the point.
It still hurt.
For most of the day, Callie sat on the couch, flipping through the channels on the TV or swiping through her phone. She wasn’t forced to stay inside this motel room like she was the last one– she just didn’t feel like bringing herself to leave. To go out was to face the world and say that she was totally okay, and that nothing was wrong, that her parents were just having the usual kind of spousal arguments. She couldn’t force a real smile onto her face if she wanted to.
So the day passed slowly.
That evening, as she waited for her dad to get back, Callie lay on her back, staring at her phone.
“Yellowjackets Crash 1996” was typed into the search bar with a picture of the soccer team before the crash.
Most of the faces, Callie couldn’t recognize. They’d never made it home. She used to believe that they’d all just died in the crash, but lately, the things that people said about her mom and her friends online were sounding more and more likely.
She focused on the faces she did recognize. Her mom and the women she’d found her with in the compound stood out clearly, but there was another one that she’d seen before, too.
Naturally, she’d never met Jackie. She remembered going over to the Taylor house a few times when she was younger, until Mrs. Taylor said something about her that made her dad furious. Her parents never took her over there again after that. But Callie remembered the framed photos on the walls, and how eerie they’d felt when she was a kid. It felt like her mom’s dead best friend was staring at her, haunting her through the picture.
Jackie’s smiling face in the photo on her phone seemed to have the same effect.
“Calls! Get in here!” Her father’s voice sounded from the kitchenette. She must’ve not heard him come in. Callie was thankful for something to pull her away from her thoughts. She stepped out of the bedroom, leaving her phone on the bed.
It was a one bedroom suite, and her dad had been sleeping on the pullout couch, letting Callie have the one actual bed. It made her feel guilty, but her dad insisted that he didn’t mind before launching into a speech about how couches like that were actually made much different now than years ago, and they’re actually very comfortable now.
In the kitchenette, she saw her dad lighting birthday candles that’d been stuck into a scoop of vanilla ice cream. When he saw her, he gave her a smile and walked over to her, holding the ice cream and singing Happy Birthday. Callie blew out the candles with a half-hearted smile.
“Thanks, Dad.” She said, closing her eyes as her dad kissed the top of her head. “I, um, I’m not super hungry, though.”
He seemed a little surprised– and maybe a bit disappointed– but waved it off, anyways. “Ah, no worries. I’ll put it in the freezer, though, so you can have it later, alright?” He gave her hair a gentle tousle before turning back towards the fridge to do just that. “You going out with Alana tonight?” He called back over his shoulder.
Callie sat down on the couch, bringing her knees up to her chest. “No.”
There was a pause. “Why don’t you go find us something to watch, then? We can order some pizza or something later.”
She obliged, grabbing the remote and flicking through. Eventually she settled on some trashy reality show just as her dad sat down next to her. A pleasant calm fell over the room after they settled in. Even in her off mood, her dad’s jokes about the nonsense on the screen made her laugh. In spite of everything, within the past few months, Callie had felt a lot closer with her dad. He was the only one who could really even start to get what it was like, how truly scary things had been.
On screen, one of the stars of the show was arguing with her mother, shouting at each other at some party. Callie couldn’t pull her focus away from it. Not until, mercifully, the commercial break started. Halfway through an ad for some car dealership, Callie turned to look at her dad.
“Have you talked to Mom lately?” She asked, trying her best to pretend it was a normal question under very normal circumstances.
After a pause, her dad pursed his lips and shook his head. “Just to tell her that… we needed space while she is… going through what she’s going through.”
Callie nodded, fixing her gaze on her hands in her lap. “Do you think she’s okay?”
There was an even longer pause. “Calls, I…” He hesitated. “I think your mom’s still… dealing with whatever happened out there. And I don’t really blame her for that. You know, she wasn’t much older than you when that plane went down. If that all happened to me at that age, I think I’d be pretty messed up, too.” He concluded. “I just think that it’s… safer for all of us that we keep our distance for a little while.”
Callie absorbed what he said, letting out a quiet sigh. Seventeen had always sounded older than it was, back when she’d read about what’d happened to her mom and her team. It felt mature, adult. But now that she’d actually made it there, seventeen seemed so small. She still felt like a kid, she still wanted her dad to protect her and her mom to love her. She bit the inside of her cheek too hard, and the iron-y taste of blood filled her mouth.
“...The night that, um, the night that Lottie died,” she began, considering her words carefully, “she told me that the wilderness they got lost in was like, a part of me.” Memories of her mother flooded her mind– the cool and calculated way she made threats, her fake meek demeanor, the way she’d covered-up a murder with seeming ease. “...I think that, whatever’s wrong with Mom, it’s wrong with me, too.”
Her dad put his hand on her shoulder, shaking his head with a troubled expression. “Callie, it isn’t like that. Just because your mom’s still processing whatever trauma she has, it doesn’t mean that you have to carry it for her, too.” He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “...and, to tell you the truth, Lottie had stuff going on before she even got on that plane, alright? Don’t put any weight into what she said.” He offered her a small reassuring smile. “There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s just… a lot to deal with. A lot that you shouldn’t have to deal with.”
After a moment, Callie returned his smile with a nod, though she wasn’t convinced.
“Tell you what, I’ll go ahead and order us pizza. Makes up for having to hang out with your old man on your birthday, huh?” He offered, getting up to walk over to the phone on the wall.
After that, the evening passed quietly. Once her dad had decided to go to bed, Callie had gone back into the bedroom, and was laying on her stomach, scrolling through old texts from her mom.
It was all normal mom stuff, just “love you” and “text me when you get home”, mostly. A few asking her to take something out of the freezer. Nothing felt off. Still, Callie read them all over and over, searching for some sign she’d missed, some indication that there was something wrong. She could find none.
As she closed the apps on her phone, the photo she’d been looking at earlier that night caught her eye. She narrowed her eyes on it, focusing on her mom’s face. She looked perfectly normal. Happy, even. Just like any other teenage girl. She certainly didn’t look like someone who could grow up to murder anybody.
Callie supposed that she looked like a normal girl, too. Appearances could be deceiving.
The thought made her feel sick.
She quickly shut off her phone, putting it onto the nightstand before she rolled onto her back and tugged the covers over her. She shut her eyes tight, willing sleep to take her from her thoughts.
When she opened them again, she was in the hallway at school, standing in front of the trophy case memorial. The school was empty, which felt uncomfortable. She wasn’t used to seeing it like that.
As she peered into the trophy case at the photos that’d been left there, she became aware of a figure in the background of her reflection approaching her. Startled, Callie turned around to see a girl her age standing just a few feet behind her.
“You should totally try out for the soccer team. I bet you’d actually be pretty good. You look like you’ve got Yellowjackets potential.” The girl said, a smile on her face.
Callie recognized her. She didn’t look the way she did in pictures, though. Her face was pale and ashen, her cheeks hollower. Her outfit, though, was identical. It was that soccer uniform Callie felt so stupid for wearing to that party.
When Callie didn’t say anything, the girl tilted her head slightly. “You know, you look just like your dad. You two are identical, it’s kind of freaky.” She said with a light laugh. “I would know, he and I were dating before I died.”
Callie swallowed hard, watching the girl cautiously. “...Jackie…?”
Jackie all but ignored her, just going on. “You’re not like him, though. I see right through you. You remind me so much of your mom. Murder apple doesn’t fall far from the murder tree, I guess.”
Callie took a step back away from her.
“So, who’s next? Taissa? Misty?” She interrogated with a smirk. “I mean, you didn’t seem to have any trouble with Lottie, did you?”
Callie shook her head quickly. “No, that was… That was an accident. I didn’t mean to kill anybody.”
“Oh come on, you don’t have to lie to me. I’m dead, who am I gonna tell?” Jackie laughed at her own joke, but when Callie didn’t respond, she rolled her eyes and scoffed. “You really are like her– you’re no fun, either.” She shook her head. “Whatever. It’s not like you can help it.”
Callie started to back away faster.
“You’re basically already one of us.”
She awoke with a scream, fear in her eyes. Immediately, her dad sprang up and ran to the bedroom, throwing open the door and flicking on the light.
“Callie? Jesus, are you okay?”
She, still catching her breath, nodded quickly. “Yeah, I- sorry- I just had a bad dream, is all.” She said dismissively. “I’m fine, I’m sorry I woke you.”
He let out a breath he’d been holding, looking relieved as he nodded. “Good, good. Um, you sleep well. Come wake me up if you need me.” He said, turning to leave but pausing in the doorway.
“Cals?”
“Yeah Dad?”
“I love you. You’re a good kid.”
“...thanks, Dad. I love you, too.”
There was a pause.
“We’re gonna be okay. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you from her before. I’m going to now, okay?”
“Okay.” She said quietly, watching her father turn around and reach for the lightswitch. “Leave it on, please?”
He nodded, stepping out of the room. “Sure thing. Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Goodnight, Dad.”
The door was shut, and Callie was left alone.
She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her mind of the dream. She sat up in bed, hugging her knees to her chest.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her own reflection in the mirror on the wall.
She didn’t look like herself. For a moment, Callie could swear she saw a different face.
She saw her mother at seventeen, staring straight back at her.
Callie blinked, and the vision was gone, and she saw her own face reflected back at her.
For a moment, she looks just like her.