Page 13 of Pitcher Us
Fuckity, fuck, fuck.
Chapter 7
Callie
The next morning, I do not put Will’s sweatshirt back on. As appealing as the idea is, I need to set that boundary. Granted, all morning I’ve done nothing but think about putting the warm sweatshirt back on as I’m having one of those days where I hate everything I try on. My clothes feel itchy and unnatural, but I know that’s just my brain hyper fixating on the fact that while it was embarrassing getting busted by Will last night, it also felt really good to see him checking me out.
I’ve thought about it all morning and while there are many things about my brain that just piss me off, the top one is my lack of impulse control. Which has now led me to the predicament I’m in now.
“Calliope Reyer, I can’t even begin to express my disappointment in you right now. Aphotographerfor abaseball team.” My father’s angry voice booms through the speaker and I wince.
I know I should have looked at who was calling before answering but I was off in Lalaland thinking about Will’s sweatshirt. My phone was ringing, I answered it. Threw it onspeaker as I’m cooking the classic bitch-on-a-budget meal of ramen.
“Dad, please, let?—”
“And to hear about it fromhisfamily? Are you kidding me? How could you do this to us?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, not sure if it's to prevent an oncoming headache or crying. I hate the words coming out of my dad’s mouth right now. I hate that I’ve disappointed him, but the life he wants me to live will end up killing my soul in the long run.
“Dad, if you would just listen to me?—”
“No, you listen, Calliope. I let you have your little temper tantrum with your let-down of a brother. No more. You have till Wednesday to get your ass home.
Tears prickle at my eyes but I shove them down. It’s always been this way. “Calliope, do this.” “Calliope, sit still.” “Calliope, Calliope, Calliope!”I hate that name.
Before my debacle with my ex, these mean words and demands would have had me caving. Doing whatever I was told to keep the peace, but I can’t go back there. Not without some sort of olive branch at least. To show that they can see my side of things…is that so hard?
Swallowing down my emotions, I take a deep breath. “Dad, I’m not coming home.”
I can see it now. The great Harrison Reyer too stunned to speak by the actions of his children. I count to five in my head, like clockwork.
“Calliope Elizabeth Reyer, you will come home. I’m tired of you constantly disrespecting this family’s name. You and your brother both. After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you treat me? How you treat this family?”
I try to blink back the tears, but I know this time it’s pointless. I hide behind my hands as his reign of terror continues through the speaker.
“You are such a little ungrateful brat. You’re probably out whor?—”
The phone clicks off at the words I know I’m thankful I won’t hear again, but I didn’t turn it off…
Slowly looking up, Adam is looking at me in shock, my phone in his hand. I hadn’t even heard him come in. I must have left the door unlocked again.
“I promise I’ll be better at locking my door.” I sniffle, because I’m trying really hard not to break down right now.
Adam sighs as he shakes his head. “Cals.”
“I…” I don’t even know how to explain this to him. Adam hasn’t spoken to our parents since he got drafted into the minors. Dad never raised his voice at me until the day he moved out.
My big brother wraps me in a giant bear hug, and I honestly couldn’t tell you the last time I got a hug like this. A true, let-it-all-out hug.
“I didn’t do anything, Adam. I swear,” I cry.
“I know, Callie, I know.” And he does. Adam was always the victim of Dad’s verbal lashings growing up and then some. I don’t blame him for not thinking about me becoming the next target. Adam was nineteen when he left, and I had just turned twelve. I was still “Daddy’s little girl”at that point.
“Does he talk to you like that often?” I open my mouth to answer, but he stops me. “Actually, I already know the answer. Damn it, Callie, is this why you moved in with me?”
Adam danced around this question from the moment I knocked on his door. I’m not sure if he was too afraid to ask or if the guilt of leaving me behind was too much for him.
While he cut off our parents completely, he still reached out to me. But we never talked about family. Period.
