Twenty-Four
twenty-four
WONDERWALL - OASIS
OWEN - JUNE 12, 2013
W hen I texted Callie early this morning before my shift, I expected the usual banter or a light-hearted message in return. What I didn’t expect was the picture she sent back—a shot of her in bed, the camera angled in such a way that the first thing I notice is the hint of cleavage. My heart races for a second, a grin pulling at my lips. I don’t know if she meant to show that much, but damn, I’m not complaining. It’s the kind of thing that makes me second-guess every choice I’ve made about keeping things friendly between us.
I shake it off, trying to focus on the job. But as the day drags on, one problem after another, my thoughts keep drifting back to that picture. I tried to play it off when she apologized for the picture and a part of me wonders if she did it on purpose just to toy with me.
Just as I send off my response admitting that I am, in fact, a boob guy, Will shouts my name, needing help with a valve that’s giving him trouble. The day spirals into one problem after another from there, with no time to catch my breath, let alone check my phone. We even worked through our lunch break.
Now, eight hours later, I pull out my phone as I head to the break room to grab my lunch box full of food I didn’t have time to eat today, and there’s another message waiting for me—this time, a photo that’s even more daring. My breath catches. She’s really pushing the boundaries now, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve been reading this all wrong.
“Damn, Callie,” I mutter, shaking my head but not able to suppress the rush of excitement. She’s bold. Bolder than I expected. I type out a quick message, trying to keep it light:
Me:
You sure know how to get a guy’s attention.
After I hit send, I feel a tug of unease. Callie’s playing with fire, and it’s making things complicated. I’m still seeing Karissa, and while we’re not exclusive, it feels like I’m stuck between two very different situations. As much as I’ve tried to keep things platonic with Callie, the lines are blurring fast.
My phone buzzes, and her message pops up, instantly pulling me back into the tension of it all.
Callie:
Well hey, stranger! Is that why it took you like eight hours to respond?
I chuckle, but the pit in my stomach grows. I type back:
Me:
Sorry about that, work’s been a beast today.
Before I can finish the conversation, Will claps me on the shoulder and I quickly exit the text thread. Callie’s pictures are still burned into my mind, and I hope to God he didn’t see anything. “You heading out?” he asks, his usual smirk plastered on his face. I really hope he didn’t see her–because if he did, I might actually have to gouge his eyes out.
Callie may not be “mine,” but the thought of anyone else seeing her like that sends a flare of primal possession through me. I push the thought aside, shaking off the ridiculous idea of threatening one of my best friends over a girl I’m not even dating.
“Yeah, man. Just wrapping up,” I say, slipping my phone into my pocket, feeling like I’ve just dodged a bullet.
As soon as I’m out of the hospital and safely in my truck, I pull my phone back out. This thing with her is spinning out of control, and I need to reel it in before I end up doing something I’ll regret.
Callie:
It’s all good. Just forget I sent those pictures this morning. Obviously my brain fell out when I was sleeping last night.
Forget? As if I could.
Callie:
So, any plans tonight? Or just the usual unwind after a long day?
She’s giving me an out, and I should take it. But instead, I go for the safer middle ground.
Me:
Probably just the usual. Need to recharge. How about you?
I hit send, but my mind’s already racing. Just friends, I remind myself. But those pictures, that teasing—it’s making me second-guess everything. I grip the steering wheel harder than necessary and start the truck, my thoughts a jumble of conflicting emotions.
I roll the windows down, knowing I’m going to need some fresh air on the way home. Just as I’m about to put the truck in reverse and pull out of the parking lot, my phone buzzes in the cup holder where I’d set it.
Callie:
Same here. Maybe we can chat later? I could use a distraction. Today was rough.
A distraction. Is that what I am to her? It feels like there’s more going on here than either of us wants to admit.
Me:
Sounds good. I’ll text you once I’m home.
I set my phone back down and look out the window just in time to see Karissa walking towards me in the parking lot. She waves and continues walking over.
“Hey, Owen,” she says with a smile, oblivious to my internal conflict. “I was wondering if you’d like to go out again tomorrow night? Some of the nurses are getting together to go to Black N’ Gold.”
I nod, feeling a mix of excitement and uncertainty. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll text you later to confirm?”
“Perfect,” she replies, her smile widening. “I’ll see you then.”
When I’m about halfway home, I decide to give Sabrina a call so I can talk to Barrett. I miss him. The apartment is too quiet without him and I’m not looking forward to going home alone. Sab picks up after a couple of rings.
“Hey,” she says, sounding distracted.
“I just wanted to see if I could talk to the little turkey for a sec. Is he around?” I ask. I need to hear his little voice.
“Yeah, just a sec.” There’s some shuffling before I hear his excited voice come through.
“Daddy!”
I can’t help but grin. “Hey, buddy! What’s going on?”
We talk for a few minutes and he tells me all about his day. No major events but sometimes, it’s just good to hear him ramble and forget about the rest of the chaos in my life. By the time we hang up, I feel like I can breathe easier.
I pull into my parking spot and just sit there for a minute. My phone buzzes–it’s another text from Callie, checking to see if I made it home okay since I had such a long day at work. Her thoughtfulness makes me smile.
Me:
Hey, just got home. Got some time to chat?
Her reply is instant, and I swear I can almost hear the relief in her words:
Callie:
Yeah, definitely. It’s my first night in a while without Sara and I hate the quiet. Thanks for keeping me company. How was your day?
I could keep it simple. I could avoid the elephant in the room. But the guilt from her earlier photos still gnaws at me. I owe her honesty, at least.
Me:
Crazy busy. Barely had time to breathe. But… I feel like I should be upfront with you. I’m going out with Karissa again tomorrow. I didn’t want to hide that fr om you.
There’s a pause. Long enough that my chest tightens with dread.
Callie:
Oh. Well that’s great, Owen. Really. I hope it goes well for you.
I can’t tell if she’s being genuine or just putting on a brave face. Either way, the tension is thick now, and I can feel the distance creeping in.
Callie:
I feel like I owe you an apology for the pictures this morning. I shouldn’t have sent them, especially since you made it clear you just want to be friends.
Right. Just friends. I sit back on the couch, staring at my phone, debating whether I should delete the pictures. I really should.
Me:
It’s okay, I promise. I don’t want to lose our friendship. You’re important to me, Callie. I don’t want to hurt you.
I toss the phone down on the coffee table, rubbing my hand over my beard. The apartment is too quiet–the quiet makes my thoughts seem louder. I get up, walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, hoping to wash away the tension.
Callie:
I know. It get it, really. It’s just been a day.
Me:
What happened? Are you okay ?
Her next message is longer, explaining how Adam showed up at the coffee shop where she works and started issues with her. Apparently Matt was there when it happened, bringing her flowers and asking her to go out with him. A pang of jealousy hits me although I know it shouldn’t.
I can feel my jaw tighten. This guy better treat her right if he’s going to keep showing up. My sense of possessiveness from earlier returns and I can feel the jealousy burning beneath my skin.
Thankfully, her next message makes me chuckle:
Callie:
Is today over yet?
I wish.
Me:
Not quite.
Callie:
Hey, you’re handy, right? Think you can build me a time machine and get this day over with?
Me:
Let me grab the Delorean and I’ll be right there.
Callie:
The what?
Me:
Oh my God. Callie! Have you never seen the cinematic masterpiece that is Back to the Future?!
Callie:
I mean… I’ve seen parts of it. I’m assuming the Delorean is that ugly si lver car?
Me:
I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who hasn’t seen Back to the Future.
I shift, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV to avoid the silence in my apartment without Barrett here.
Callie:
Listen, I have a good reason. I watched Dennis the Menace when I was a kid and Christopher Lloyd is terrifying in that movie. I don’t think I can handle him as some sort of spastic Doc!
Me:
You wound me!
Callie:
Good thing you’ve got that nurse to take care of you now…
Ouch.
Callie:
I’m just teasing. Thanks for listening, Owen. I appreciate you.
I glance at the screen for a second, then type out my reply.
Me:
Ditto.
I set the phone down, feeling a heaviness settle in my chest. The weight of the day, the uncertainty, and the mess I’ve created with Callie—it all presses down on me. I close my eyes, knowing that no matter how I spin it, someone’s going to get hurt.