going back to that.” I slip my arm out of his and wrap my jacket

tightly around myself. “I just can’t stop thinking about him… how

he looked. It’s stuck in my head.” It’s always in my mind. I didn’t

want to leave Afton, but my mom threatened me, saying if I failed

the semester she wasn’t going to let me stay at the house for

Christmas break. I’d have nowhere to go. “I just miss him and I feel

bad for leaving him there with his family.”

“It wouldn’t have matter if you had stayed. They still won’t let

you see him.” Seth brushes his golden blond hair out of his honey

brown eyes and looks at me sympathetically as rain drips down on

his head and face. “Callie, I know it’s hard, especially when they

said he did it to… when he did it to himself. But you can’t break

apart.”

“I’m not breaking apart.” The drizzle of rain suddenly shifts to

a downpour and we sprint for the shelter of the trees, shielding

our faces with our arms. I tuck damp strands of my brown hair out

of my face and behind my ears. “I just can’t stop thinking about

him.” I sigh, wiping away the rain from my face. “Besides, I don’t

believe that he did it to himself.”

His shoulders slump as he pulls down the sleeves of his black

button-down jacket. “Callie, I hate to say it but… but what if he

did? I know it could have been his dad, but what if it wasn’t? What

if the doctors are right? I mean, they did send him to that facility

for a reason.”

Raindrops bead down our faces and my eyelashes flutter

against them. “Then he did,” I say. “It doesn’t change anything.”

Everyone has secrets, just like me. I’d be a hypocrite if I judge

Kayden for self-infliction. “Besides, they didn’t send him. The

hospital transferred him there so he could be watched while he

heals. That’s all. He doesn’t have to stay there.”

Seth offers me a sympathetic smile, but there’s pity in his

eyes. He leans forward and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I

know, and that’s why you’re you.” He moves back from me, turns

to his side, and aims his elbow at me. “Now come on, we’re going

to be late for class.”

Sighing, I link elbows with him and we step out into the rain,

taking our time as we head to class.

“Maybe we could do something fun,” Seth suggests as he

opens the door to the main building on campus. He guides me

into the warmth and lets the door slam shut behind us. He releases

my arm and shakes the front of his jacket, sending raindrops

everywhere. “Like we could go to a movie or something. You’ve

been dying to see that one…” He snaps his fingers a few times. “I

can’t remember what it’s called, but you kept talking about it

before break.”

I shrug, grabbing my ponytail and giving it a good wringing

so the water drips out of the end. “I can’t remember either. And I

don’t really feel like seeing a movie.”

He frowns. “You need to quit sulking.”

“I’m not sulking,” I say and massage my hand over my heart.

“My heart just hurts all the time.”

His shoulders lift and descend as he sighs. “Callie, I—”

I raise my hand and shake my head. “Seth, I know you always

want to help me out and I love you for that, but sometimes hurting

is just part of life, especially when someone I lo—care about is

hurting too.”

He arches his eyebrows because of my almost-slip. “Okay

then, let’s go to class.”

I nod and follow him up the hall. My clothes are wet from the

rain and there’s water in my shoes. Even though it’s cold and the

water sticks my clothes to my body, it reminds me of a beautiful

time full of magical kisses and I need to hold onto that.

Because for now, it’s all I’ve got.

* * *

Time drags on. Classes are ending, wrapping up for winter

break. I’ve been staring at my English book for so long it feels like my eyes are bleeding and the words look identical. I rub my eyes

with my fingertips, pretending like the room doesn’t smell like pot

and that Violet, my roommate, isn’t passed out in the bed across

from mine. She’s been like that for the last ten hours. I’d be

worried she was dead, but she keeps muttering incoherently in her

sleep.

On top of studying for the English exam, I’m supposed to be

writing an essay. I joined a creative writing club at the beginning of the year, and at the end of it, I’m supposed to turn in three

projects: a poem, a short story, and a nonfiction piece. As much as

I love to write, I’m struggling with the idea of putting truth down

on paper for other people to read. I’m afraid of what might come

out if I really open up. Or maybe it’s because it seems silly to write a paper about the truth of life when Kayden’s in an institution

living the truth. All I’ve typed so far is: Where the Leaves Go by

Callie Lawrence. I’m uncertain of where I’ll go with this.

The rain from earlier has frozen into fluffy snowflakes that

sail from the sky and a silvery sheet of ice glistens across the

campus yard. I tap my fingers on the top of my book, thinking

about home and how there’s probably three or four feet of snow

and how my mom’s car is probably stuck in the driveway. I can

picture the snowplow roaming the town’s streets, and my dad

doing warm-ups inside the gym because it’s too cold to be

outside. And Kayden is still in the hospital under supervision

because they think he tried to kill himself. It’s been a few weeks

since it happened. He was out of it for quite a while from the

blood transfusion and lacerations to his body. Then he woke up

and no one could see him because he’s considered “high risk” and

“under surveillance” (Kayden’s mother’s words, not mine).

My phone is sitting on my bed next to a pile of study sheets

and an array of highlighters. I pick it up, dial Kayden’s number, and wait for his voicemail message to come on.

“Hey, this is Kayden, I’m way too busy to take your call right

now, so please leave a message and maybe you’ll be lucky enough

that I’ll call you back.” There’s sarcasm in his voice like he thinks he’s being funny and I smile, missing him so badly it pierces my

heart.

I listen to it over and over again until I can hear the

underlying pain in his sarcasm, the one that carries his secrets.

Eventually, I hang up and flop back on my bed, wishing I could

travel back in time and not let Kayden find out that it was Caleb

who raped me.

“God, what time is it?” Violet sits up in her bed and blinks her

bloodshot eyes at the leather-band watch on her wrist. She shakes

her head and gathers her black-and-red-streaked hair out of her

face. She gazes out the window at the snow and then looks at me.

“How long have I been out?”

I shrug, staring up at the ceiling. “I think, like, ten hours?”