Tale of Life (Essence Series #2) (10 page)

“Girls problems—
great
,” he said sarcastically. “Those are the worse—there’s no right answer. The creatures are impossible to decipher.”

Calloway smiled, feeling better already. “Is that why you are a bachelor?”

Mr. Avey laughed. “And among other reasons,” he said. “Why do you shy away from commitment? You are established as partners, right? Is there foul play?”

“No, of course not,” Calloway said.

“Then I don’t understand your meaning.”

“I—I just can’t completely accept her into my heart,” he said. “I can’t explain it. I’ve refrained from kissing her and being alone with her because I’m not ready to be emotionally intimate with her. I just keep pushing it back.”

“Is Miss Reese getting frustrated with this arrangement?”

“Yes.” Calloway nodded. “She doesn’t understand why I am taking so long.”

“And why are you?”

Calloway was silent for a moment. “I—I don’t know.”

Do you like her?”

“Yes, of course I do. I care about her very much,” Calloway said.

“Do you love her?”

Calloway shifted his weight in his chair. The question was very personal and intimate, and he wasn’t even sure what being in love meant. “I don’t know.”

“You do or you don’t,” Mr. Avey said. “It isn’t something that develops over time—it’s innate.”

“I’m too young to be in love.”

Mr. Avey laughed. “You are wise beyond your years, Calloway, but you are also completely wrong. We have the capacity to love and have been ingrained with the ability since birth. You aren’t too young to love, Calloway, but you are too young to understand it—that’s the difference.”

Calloway nodded. “Then I don’t understand if I love her or not.”

Mr. Avey shook his head. “You do or don’t,” he repeated. “You’ll recognize it when it comes your way. It’s powerful and spellbinding, like a bright light in a dark place. Even though you can’t touch it, it’s real, and the light shines directly into your heart. There’s no mistaking it Calloway. When the time comes, you’ll know.”

“So you don’t think I love her?” Calloway asked.

Mr. Avey shrugged. “I don’t know what you feel, Calloway,” he said. “I’m just telling you what real love is. You’re the only one that can answer that question—no one else can.”

Calloway shrugged. “I guess.”

“Does she love you?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “She hasn’t told me.”

“Time will tell.”

“So it seems,” Calloway said. “I feel like I could love her but—I just can’t.”

“What’s holding you back, Calloway?”

Calloway held his hands together under the desk. Weston immediately popped into his mind, her smiling face as she danced with him at the formal. The way her lips felt against his cheek.
The way she held her hand in his. And then he remembered the night of New Year’s Eve, when Weston kissed someone else at midnight, clearly uninterested in Calloway. There was no mistaking her feelings toward Calloway; they were completely platonic. His voice was quiet when he spoke. “Nothing.”

The school day passed so quickly that Calloway couldn’t recall most of it. He spent his lunch period with Beatrice. Then in photography he took pictures of her while she searched for a subject to photograph. Beatrice assumed he took photos of her just for fun, but Calloway had made her face the object of his collage assignment, which was due at the end of the year. His pictures were mixed with images that reminded him of her; blossoming flowers, penetrating rays of the run, and tall blades of bright, green grass. Calloway wasn’t sure how she would react when she found out about his school project but he had no desire to photograph anything else besides her—nothing interested him.

After school, they went to the Headquarters where Easton deciphered the text quietly while Calloway worked on his math homework. Breccan sat at the table and ate a bag of chips, staring outside the window, being completely unproductive. Calloway advised him to finish his schoolwork but Breccan never listened, choosing to do nothing instead. A Hara-Kir hadn’t made an appearance for several months, as far as they knew, and their absence made Calloway feel more uneasy. Why did they disappear? Easton translated a few chapters but the information was irrelevant—they already knew most of it—and the parts they didn’t understand were beyond their comprehension. Calloway was anxious to travel through the portal but he agreed with Beatrice—the text had to be translated first. There were only a few months left of school and Calloway wasn’t sure how he felt about the fast approaching end to his high school career. Now that Hawk had dropped his constant ridicule, his school days weren’t so unbearable, and seeing Beatrice every day always made him happy, when they weren’t arguing, at least. They didn’t talk about the future. Calloway assumed she planned to attend college but she hadn’t spoken of it. He still wasn’t sure what school he was attending in the fall, or if he was attending
anywhere
. It was still a possibility that he hadn’t been accepted to any school he applied to. Perhaps his poor grades couldn’t be saved by his outstanding test scores and he would be stuck at Togo’s for the rest of his life. Hawk would certainly tease him about that.

By the time Easton dropped them off at home, Calloway was exhausted, wishing he could just collapse on his bed, skipping dinner. Between school, research, work, and having a girlfriend, Calloway had no time to do anything—especially sleep. When they walked into the house, Calloway dropped into his seat at the kitchen table across from Uncle Scott and waited for Aunt Grace to serve dinner.

Uncle Scott, who had his thick spectacles on the bridge of his nose, stared at Calloway’s sagged eyelids. “Long day?” he asked.

“You could say that,” Calloway said, leaning back in his chair with his chin tilted toward his chest. “There are just a lot of projects and homework.”

“Well, you are almost done,” Aunt Grace said happily. “Soon, my two babies will be grown men.” She placed the plate of grilled chicken in the center of the table then clapped her hands together. “I’m so proud of both of you.”

Breccan, who had his back to his mother, rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, and then grabbed a strip of chicken from the dish, placing it onto his plate alongside his potatoes and
broccoli.

“How was school?” Aunt Grace asked as she sat down. Her thin arms were more fragile than Calloway had ever seen them. She quit her job after the camera had been paid off, but her time working seemed to take a negative toll on her body. It was easy to forget she was really suffering from an illness because she was so happy all the time—it didn’t seem like anything was wrong.

“It was okay,” Calloway said.

Breccan stuffed his mouth with potatoes. “It was fine,” he mumbled.

Aunt Grace directed her twinkling eyes on Calloway. The buoyant look was enough to warn Calloway of her upcoming words.

“So, should we expect any guests for dinner—tomorrow perhaps?” said Aunt Grace, smiling expectantly at Calloway. “We enjoy having company.”

Calloway ate his potatoes, chewing very slowly so he could stall as long as possible. “No,” he said. “It will just be Breccan and I.”

Aunt Grace leaned forward. “Your uncle and I really want to meet this girl, Calloway. She sounds lovely.”

Calloway glared at Breccan for a long moment and his cousin returned the look with a smile. “She’s busy.”

“Then we could do it another night.”

Calloway played with his fork for a while, trying to articulate a reasonable response to his aunt’s constant pressure. “I’ll ask,” he said quietly.

Aunt Grace practically jumped from her seat. “That’s wonderful,” she said excitedly. “I know exactly what I’ll cook.”

Calloway concentrated on eating the food on his plate. He felt guilty for lying to his aunt; he had no intention of inviting Beatrice to the house. Even though his aunt would embarrass him with old pictures and recollections of him wetting the bed, he wasn’t concerned about being humiliated by his family. He just didn’t want to meet hers in return. If this relationship became serious it would happen eventually, but Calloway wasn’t ready for that just yet. As much as he liked Beatrice, he was just in high school and wasn’t ready for a true relationship. His purpose was to finish his father’s work, stopping the Hara-Kirs from taking the essence from humans, and he didn’t know how he could be with someone that had no knowledge of that. He would have to tell Beatrice eventually or end the relationship, and he had no desire to do either. Calloway was procrastinating, had been for several months, but he didn’t know what to do. His friends were adamant about keeping their plans a secret—no one could know.

When they finished their meal, Calloway stood up to wash the dishes, but Aunt Grace pushed him back in the seat.

“Hold on,” she said. She grabbed a stack of mail and placed it on the table before him Calloway stared at the letters with a blank expression. “Open them.” She smiled. She returned to her seat and stared at him with a happy expression.

Uncle Scott placed his reading glasses into the case Calloway got him for Christmas then nodded, encouraging him to open the mail. Breccan just shrugged—he didn’t know what was happening either.

Calloway skimmed through the envelopes and his eyes widened—they were his school letters—rejection or acceptance notifications. His palms were soaked in sweat instantaneously and his heart beat grew sporadic and uneven.

“Open one!” Aunt Grace clapped. The sight of her excited expression made Calloway feel nauseous. What if he was rejected from every school? Calloway couldn’t handle the disappointment—from himself as well as his family.

“Okay/” Calloway sighed. With shaky hands, he opened the first letter that was from a prestigious university in Southern California. He suspected he wouldn’t be admitted to their institution—his grades were that bad. When he read the words of the letter his heart fell—it was a rejection. Calloway looked up and shook his head.

Aunt Grace patted his hand gently. “It’s okay, honey,” she said. “Open the next one.”

Calloway had no interest in opening the rest of his letters—they were probably all rejections. He felt stupid for even bothering to apply. He wasn’t college material and he knew it. But Aunt Grace’s smile of encouragement pushed him forward and he tore open the next letter with shaky hands. It was from a state school an hour away. He scanned through the letter and he felt his heart relax—he was accepted.

Calloway held up the letter. “We have a winner.”

“Yes!” Uncle Scott said, banging his fist on the table.

Aunt Grace clapped happily. “I knew you would get in somewhere!” she said. “Now the other letters don’t matter. You can relax.”

The acceptance letter, even though it was from a mediocre state school, had relieved his anxiety immensely. At least if he wasn’t accepted anywhere else he had one place to go. Fresno University was his desired institution but he was concerned that he wouldn’t be admitted—even if he was local. Calloway grabbed the next letter and saw the address—it was from one of the most prestigious universities in the United States—if not the world—and he stared at it for a moment. Instead of opening it, he dropped it into a separate pile. “I already know what that one says.”

“Just open it,” Uncle Scott said. “You never know.”

“It can’t hurt, honey,” Aunt Grace said encouragingly.

Calloway sighed, his hands shaking, and picked up the notification. When he read the letter he felt his heart explode. He dropped the letter on the table, his hands suddenly becoming immobile. “I—they—picked me,” he stumbled. “They accepted me.”

Aunt Grace jumped up again. “That’s two!”

“Yes!” Uncle Scott yelled.

Breccan nodded. “Good job,” he said awkwardly. He leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling, completely uninterested in the phenomenal moment.

“Let me see,” Aunt Grace squeaked. She took the letter from his hand and read through the paragraphs. “This is the best college in the country, Calloway,” she said in a mesmerized voice. “I didn’t even know you applied.”

Calloway shrugged. “It was just for fun,” he said. “I never expected to get in.”

Uncle Scott clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m very proud of you, Calloway.”

“And they offered you a full scholarship!” she screamed. “I can’t believe this. Honey!” she yelled at Uncle Scott. “Look! Calloway’s entire education has been paid for—by the most competitive school in the country! I can’t believe this.”

“Let me see,” Uncle Scott said, putting on his reading glasses. He skimmed through the letter and his eyes became enlarged as he read. “This is wonderful.”

Aunt Grace started to cry. “I’m so proud of you, dear.” She grabbed Calloway and hugged him to her chest, squeezing him so tightly that Calloway couldn’t breathe, and she cried into his shoulder. “So proud,” she sniffed. “Your mother would be so happy.”

The mention of his mother stung his eyes but he fought back the emotion, knowing it would make his aunt more hysterical than she already was.

She kissed him on the cheek before she returned to her seat. “This is so wonderful,” she said as she wiped her tears away. “We haven’t even gone through all the letters and I’m already an emotional wreck!”