“Phil Collins,” Walter said. “Classic.”
The drummer/superstar had taken the line from Groucho Marx, but Callie had more important things on her mind. “When you tell Leigh about seeing me, don’t tell her I was high.”
Walter had an uncomfortable set to his mouth. “If she asks, I’ll have to tell her the truth.”
He was way too good for this family. “I commend you for your honesty.”
Callie stood up. She was wobbly around the knees. The methadone was lingering. Or the long-release coating on the Oxy was doing its job. This was the reward for tapering off. The more slowly you eased yourself back in, the longer the euphoria could linger.
Until the lingering wasn’t enough.
Callie gave him a tight salute. “Adios, friend.”
Her knee gave out when she started to turn. Walter stood to help, but Callie stopped him with a wave of her hand. She didn’t want Maddy to see her father struggling with a worthless junkie in the stands.
She picked her way down the row, but the stairs nearly did her in. There was no railing to hold on to. She stepped carefully down, down, down. Callie tucked her hands deep into her jacket pockets as she walked along the field. The snail paperback crowded out her fist. The sun was so intense that her eyes were wet with tears. Her nose was running. She should not have given away the goggles. She still had nine tanning sessions left on her membership card; $9.99 for new goggles was a lot of money to burn when you only had fifteen bucks to your name.
She used the back of her sleeve to wipe her nose. Stupid sunlight. Even in the shade of the tunnel, her eyes kept watering. She could feel heat coming off her face. She hoped like hell she didn’t run into the security guard on his golf cart. Her mind kept playing back the pity in Walter’s eyes when he had watched her walk away. Callie’s hair was knotted in the back because she hadn’t been able to lift her arms high enough to use the comb this morning. Her fingers had not been able to squeeze the tube of toothpaste to brush her teeth. Her jacket was stained and wrinkled. Her clothes were the same ones she’d slept in. The abscess in her leg was throbbing because she was so fucking pathetic that she couldn’t stop injecting poison into her veins.
“Hello, Callie.”
Without warning, the gorilla snorted his foul, hot breath onto the back of her neck.
Callie spun around expecting to see the flash of white fangs as he lunged at her throat.
There was only a man. Tall and slim with sandy blonde hair. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his navy trousers. The sleeves of his blue shirt were rolled up just below the elbows. An ankle monitor bulged above his left loafer. A giant gold watch was on his left wrist.
Buddy’s watch.
Before they had chopped off his arms, Callie had unstrapped the watch and placed it on the bar. She had wanted Trevor to have something to remember his father by.
And now, she saw that he did.
“Hey, Callie.” Andrew’s voice was soft, but it had a familiar deepness that brought Callie right back to the first time she had met Buddy. “I’m sorry it’s been such a long time.”
Sand filled her lungs. He was acting so normal, like this was nothing, but her skin felt like it was being flayed off her bones.
“You look—” He chuckled. “Well, you don’t look great, but I’m glad that I found you.”
She glanced back at the stadium, then toward the exit. They were completely alone. She had nowhere to go.
“You’re still so …” His eyes flickered across her body as he seemed to look for the word. “Tiny.”
You’re so fucking tiny but I’m almost there just try to relax okay just relax.
“Callie-ope.” Andrew sang her name like a tune. “You came a long way to watch a bunch of girls play soccer.”
Callie had to open her mouth to breathe. Her heart was jumping. Was he here for Walter? For Maddy? How had he known about the school? Was he following Callie? Had she missed something on the bus?
Andrew asked, “Are they really that good?”
Her eyes found his hands tucked deep into his pockets. The hair on the back of his arms was slightly darker than the hair on his head. Just like Buddy’s.
Andrew craned his neck, looking into the field. “Which one is Harleigh’s?”
Callie heard the small crowd cheering from the stands. Clapping. Shouting. Whistling. Then the cheering died down and what she heard, what she knew was inside the tunnel with them, was the gorilla.
“Callie.” Andrew stepped forward, close but not closing in. “I want you to listen to me very carefully. Can you do that?”