Mistakes I’ve Made by Jordan Marie

23Reed

“Hey, Reed! Someone is here to see you,” Joe hollers from the front office of the garage.

I’m under a car, changing oil. I like working here. It numbs my brain. Most days I’m the first here and the last to leave. Then again, I don’t have much outside of the garage. I did think about going to Austin. Jake left out yesterday. I don’t know why I didn’t. I don’t know why I do much of anything these days.

“Just a second,” I call out, pushing myself so the mechanic’s creeper I’m on rolls me out from under the old Buick that I’m almost finished with. I’ve got a brake job to work on after that. Lately, it helps me to reiterate to myself everything I must do. Like, I make mental lists of what has to be accomplished so I have a goal. It makes me feel more in control and lately, everything feels so out of control I can’t think.

I grab an old rag and clean off my hands and slowly walk toward the office. I can’t imagine who is here to see me. I figure it’s no one I really want to talk to. When I walk through the door and look across the counter, I’m fully expecting to see Mitch or maybe my old man. The last person I thought I would see would be Callie.

“Hey,” she mutters, her face blushing slightly. She looks at me for a minute, and now it’s my turn to look away. I’m afraid she’ll be like me and see a stranger.

I clear my throat, summoning up the courage to talk to her. My heart beats erratically in my chest. Callie’s wearing her hair up in a ponytail. She’s got on a black tank top and cut off jeans. She looks every inch the country girl. It’s hard to believe she’s actually from New Hampshire. She’s beautiful. I long to just go to her and hold her close, breathe in her scent and let it calm me. Somehow, I know that she would be able to stop the world from spinning around me.

She would be my anchor.

“Hey,” I respond. “Everything okay?”

“I…” she stops, her teeth coming down to worry her bottom lip. She just continues to stare at me, her hands fidgeting nervously on the counter in front of her.

“Callie?” I ask, worried, because she’s obviously struggling—maybe as much as I am.

“I was wondering if we could talk,” she finally says, exhaling. I rub my fingers through my hair. It’s longer than I’ve ever wore it. I need to get it cut.

“Sure,” I respond finally, my chest feeling so tight that it feels like an elephant is sitting on it. “Uh… we can go outside,” I mumble, looking around the dirty shop. I lead her outside, wondering why she’s here. I don’t have any hope it’s to forgive me. She’s too distant.

When we’re outside together, we stand by the old, blocked façade of the front of the garage. “We could go to my truck—”

“Uh, no,” she says, her face going pale.

Fuck.

I’m an idiot.

“I’m sorry, Callie,” I mumble, feeling like an asshole.

“I have Mildred. We can talk in her if you want,” she suggests, motioning over toward her car.

“Sounds good.”

I wait for her to lead the way, and then I follow her. She gets in on the driver’s side and once she opens the door, I get in the passenger’s. We don’t talk for a bit. Instead, she turns the car on, and the air starts running. I helped her fix Mildred up some, so she runs solid, and the air is ice cold—even if she still looks like a rolling wreck.

“So,” I say finally. The silence weighs down on us. The air in the car is so fucking heavy it feels as if I’m choking on it. There’s so much I’ve wanted to say to her, but now, I can’t think of one thing.

“Jake came by to see me last week,” she whispers. “He said he was leaving town.”

I frown, because of all the things I thought she would want to talk about, Jake wasn’t it. Still, she sought me out and I’ve really missed her. I swallow, trying to calm my nerves. It’s not that it’s Callie. It’s just that being around people is hard lately.

“He did. He went to Austin. He tried to get me to go with him,” I respond.

I’m staring staring out the windshield, looking at the store. There’s a flagpole at the side of the building and for some reason, it’s so much easier to stare at it—instead of Callie. I watch the faded red, white, and blue flop in the wind, the tattered edges proclaiming loudly that it’s way past time someone replaces it. In a lot of ways, I feel like that old flag—aimlessly seesawing in the wind with no direction and just waiting for someone to get rid of me.

“He tried to get Katie to go, too.”

“Yeah. I told him that she wouldn’t.” I’m still staring at the flag. I can hear a distant clicking noise of a pendulum on a clock. I know it’s just in my head, but it seems to be getting louder and louder.

“She owes everything to her grandmother. If it wasn’t for her, she’d be out on the streets,” Callie says, and I know she’s right. That’s what I tried to explain to Jake. He’s always had a great family life, so he doesn’t understand the scars that shit leaves on you.

“Yeah…”

“He also said you could use a friend.”

I turn to look at her. I know she can see the shock on my face. There’s no way I can hide it.

“I’m sorry. Jake shouldn’t have bothered you.” The words nearly choke me. I rub my hands down my faded jeans, my palms damp with sweat.

“Is he right? Are you struggling?”

“Callie—”

“We were best friends, Reed. Jake called me out on that. I have no right to cut you out. It’s my fault you didn’t know how I felt about you in the first place.”

I grip my knees with my hands, digging in because I have the strongest urge to scream.

“Nothing I did was your fault. What you saw… I can’t remember it, but I can only imagine how horrible that was for you, because it would have been the same for me if it had been you, Callie.”

“You can’t remember?”

“Not really. Bits and pieces, but it’s all a blur. There was a bottle of tequila. I don’t remember drinking that much… but I must have.” I shrug. I jerk my head around to look out the windshield again, not wanting to see the disappointment on Callie’s face.

“But you don’t drink, Reed.”

“I guess that was the problem,” I mutter. “It’s not important, Callie. I’ll be okay.”

“Listen, I can’t—I mean, I’m not going to say it will be easy, but I can’t imagine not having you in my life.”

“What are you saying?” I ask, unable to breathe.

“Maybe we could start over,” she suggests, and I swear to God, my heart stutters in my chest.

“As friends?” I don’t know what makes me ask that. I guess I just want things clear. I don’t think I can handle any more drama. I’m a basket case as it is.

“How about we start there with a possibility for more?”

She looks at me and I can see she’s nervous. She has no idea that she just offered me the world. I have no idea if I can get myself under control enough not to scare her away.

But God, I’m going to try.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. But, Reed, I can’t see you with Chasity. I can’t…”

“I haven’t spoken to her since the morning after the prom, Callie, and I don’t want to. I just…” I trail off because I don’t know how to put it into words. I think I’m even afraid to say it out loud. If I tell her what I’m afraid of that will make it more real. How do you tell the woman you love that you think someone might have drugged you? It sounds crazy. It’s not like I have any proof. I searched for that damn tequila bottle and couldn’t find it. Hell, Callie might even think I’m lying to try and make her forgive me. I bottle up all the questions and worries I have and shake it off. Then, I turn to look at her. I’ll just put it behind me. I can do it, as long as I have Callie. “I just want to put it behind me, Callie. I never want to think about her again.”

“On that we can agree,” she says giving me a smile that actually reaches her eyes. I feel like my heart lodges in my throat, then stops beating before it takes off again.

“Is it too soon to ask you out?” I don’t plan on saying the words. They just tumble out.

She laughs, but it’s an easy laugh, the kind we used to share. It makes a smile tug on my lips.

“I’m watching Mrs. Johnson tonight,” she says, and I nod. I should have known that. “But, I’m free tomorrow night. I get off work at the flower shop at six.”

“I’ll pick you up tonight at the Johnson’s,” I tell her, but before the words even leave my mouth, her smile falters.

“Reed, I know it’s silly—”

“I’ll take care of it, Callie. Trust me.” I reach out and place my hand over top of hers. I feel her tense, but she slowly relaxes, turns her hand over and links her fingers with mine.

“Okay,” she says, and for the first time in what seems like forever, I feel hopeful.