Callum & Harper (6 page)

And when the last note rung through our ears, and the music stopped altogether, a deafening silence filled the room. We stilled, neither of us wanting to remove one another from our embrace.
It’s not you she wants, Callum,
I chided myself for believing for even a moment that it was
me
she wanted. Me, a complete stranger.
We’ve been neglected all our lives. Hugs are a rare commodity,
I reminded myself.

“
You’re warm,” she said gently, breaking my train of thought.

Not able to stop myself, I inhaled her hair again.
    “Uh,
Callum
?” She giggled.
    “Yes,” I said, a grin hitting my reddening cheeks. I purposely kept her cheek to my neck to avoid her stare.
You’re the king of humiliation.
   
“Are you-Are you smelling me again?”
    “No,” I said, before breaking out into laughter.

I felt her chest shake in amusement before I hear the chuckling. She tried to pull away and I hugged her tighter but instead of pushing harder against my chest to break free, she held tighter and my stomach dropped to my feet.

I have perfect timing because I decided to yawn embarrassingly loudly.

    “
Tired?” She teased into my chest.
    “I might be,” I conceded. I cleared my throat. “Uh, Charlie keeps egg crate foam in here,” I said, pointing to a closet she couldn’t see.
Doofus
. She said nothing to that so I broke away from our hug, still avoiding eye contact. I reached into the closet and start pulling out clean sheets and the egg crate. “Sometimes Charlie stays so late he doesn’t feel like cabbing it home so...” I trailed off.

I unrolled the foam and it came spilling out in one large square, taking up most of the little studio booth. The studio is large but compartmentalized, leaving a series of medium to small rooms. The soundboard booth was the smallest besides the voice recording booth but it was the only one with an air conditioner to keep the expensive equipment cool. “So,” I continued, “he keeps all this junk here. I secretly think he keeps it here to help me more than to help himself. I called him on it,” I rambled, setting out the clean, folded sheets, “but he insists that he’s a selfish jerk who thinks only of himself and that I should watch my mouth because he has a reputation to uphold.”

“
But why would he make sure the sheets are clean if it was only for him?” She stated.

“
Exactly.”

“
I think I like this Charlie,” she teases.

“
He’s kind and I think he’s going to love you,” I said, without thinking, assuming she and I would know each other long enough for her to even get to know Charlie.
She did commit to the concert in two weeks, Callum. Guess she’ll meet Charlie after all.
Then a heavy stone of realization settled in my stomach.
What if she meets Charlie and he takes to her?

Charlie had a knack for getting girls. I can’t tell you how many times I’d liked a girl and he’d gotten her instead. It’s not like he steals them or anything, he probably doesn’t even know I was interested in them, but girls just flock to the guy.
Oh God, what if Harper likes Charlie? What if they hit it off and start dating? I’ll have to endure them together or fight Charlie.
Either leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

“
So,” she interrupted my rambling thoughts, forcing me to take note that I’d been standing over the egg crate just staring down at it like an idiot.

“
Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “You can have the pallet and I can sleep in the chair.”

“
Absolutely not,” she vehemently disagreed. “If you hadn’t helped me when you did, I would be sleeping on a sidewalk somewhere.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that’s, more than likely, where we’d both be sleeping the next night. “So, it’s only fitting that I sleep in the chair. Besides, you’re much taller than me. You take the pallet. I’ll be more than comfortable in the chair.”

“
Well,” I said seriously, “if you made me sleep on that pallet, I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep knowing you were in that chair. Then, finally, when my body couldn’t take it anymore, succumbing to sleep too late, I’d sleep through my alarm. I’d wake up late, miss my appointment with my advisor, and lose my scholarship.

“
Then, I’d be forced to take a job waiting tables while going to a community college and as we both know, no one finishes community college. So after dropping out and enduring six years of working in the food industry, they’ll offer me a management position and I’ll be forced to take it to support the eight kids I had with the girl I met at ju-co in my theater electives class but left me to pursue her ‘acting career’. I’ll be bitter and grow a beer gut...”

“
Okay! Okay!” She giggled. “I’ll take the pallet but
only
if you take the pallet with me.”

My throat instantly dried and the smirk that graced my stupid face fell.
    “Wa-
with
you?”
    “Yes,” she said turning her back toward me and taking a t-shirt and some shorts from her piles of clothing and heading for the door. She stopped at the edge. “You sleep with your feet at this end and I’ll sleep with my feet at that end.”
Harper winked at me before leaving to change.

“
Oh,” I said to no one, the blood returning to my face but disappointment following soon behind.
You’re still sleeping right next to her, genius.

I used the time she was gone to ready myself for bed. I usually slept in my boxers because I didn’t make it a habit to sleep with women, hardy har, har, but wasn’t sure what to do because I didn’t have anything else. I scrambled through my belongings and found a pair of old Adidas track pants. I removed my t-shirt and threw on the pants.

Harper

I can’t believe I suggested we sleep on the pallet together.
I know
why
I did it. I genuinely couldn’t let him sleep in that gosh awful chair but if I was being honest with myself, it wasn’t the
only
reason why I did it.
You can’t lie to yourself, Harper.
And I couldn’t.
Alright, fine.
I did it because I wanted to know what it was like to lie next to a warm body, to feel close to someone sincere because sincerity is one of those rare human qualities that feels a bit like discovering a lost treasure. It is a rare commodity but once found, is absolutely priceless. That was Callum, pretty much in a nutshell. And I, to be perfectly frank, could count the people I’d found to be genuine on my right hand.   

I came to the door and knocked before stepping in, so as not to disturb him getting ready.

“
Come in,” I heard.

But there wasn’t enough preparation in the world to ready me for what I saw when I opened that door. Callum, standing above the pallet, the lights out but the faint glow from the hallway glistening across his perfect chest and highlighting the eight pack that painted his stomach. I gulped audibly. I stood there, staring like an imbecile.
    “Uh, Harper?”
    I shook my head. “Um, yeah?” A blush crept up my neck and plastered my face in crimson.
    “You okay?”
    “Uh, huh. Why do you ask?” I said, biting my bottom lip to keep from a nervous laugh and staring at everything in the room
but
Callum, a feat in and of itself.
    “Because you’re just standing there. Listen, if you don’t want to sleep with me on the pallet, I understand.”
    “No, it’s okay.” I answered as breezily as I could. I set all my stuff on the table with our clean laundry and headed for the soundboard to turn on some low tunes. “Do you mind?” I asked.
    “Not at all,” he said. “I can’t sleep without it.”
    I look at him, surprised. “Neither can I.” It’s how I used to drown out the nightly yelling my last three foster parents used to embark on every evening after getting drunk or when they were getting in a fight or when I just wanted to drown out my situation.
    I turned and walked over to the pallet. He watched me settle in before laying on top of the blanket I was underneath, his feet at my head, pulling another quilt at his side over his own body. Basically, we were as far apart as two people sleeping next to one another could get. After a few moments, he turned out the lights and it became pitch black and
that’s
the moment I chose to start laughing uncontrollably which, in turn, caused him to follow suit.
    “What’s so funny?” He asked me.
    “Everything, Callum. It’s all so incredibly surreal and this is incredibly awkward but I’m going to ask anyway.”
    “Okay, shoot,” he said, still laughing.
    “Can I sleep up there with you? Right next to you, that is? And before you turn me down...” I started but he interrupted me.
    “Come here,” he said.
    I climb up to his side of the pallet and get underneath my blanket again, the very thin blanket that still separated our skin.
    “I’ve never slept with anyone before,” I stupidly say.
This makes him laugh and suddenly I’m extraordinarily grateful that it was dark because I’m sure my face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“
Neither have I.”

    “
I meant that I’ve never literally gone to sleep with someone.” I paused. “Actually, I’ve never
slept
with anyone before, either,” I admitted, staring up at an invisible ceiling.
    I heard him turn toward me. “Neither have I,” he admitted.
    “Seriously?”
    “Really,” he said, “and this is incredibly embarrassing to admit to anyone, especially a hottie, but I figure, what the hell, I’m lying next to you shirtless and that’s about as intimate as one can get with a stranger, I think. Or, you know what I mean.

“
Anyway, I’ve never done anything because I just feel like it’s the one part of myself that I still have control over. I have nothing to give anyone, really. It’s the one gift I can give that has any kind of value. It makes me feel worthy.”

   
I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. I mean, I struggled a little after the hottie part, of course, because Callum had this school boy effect on me and all.
He thinks I’m pretty
, I stupidly and giddily admitted to myself. I stayed quiet for a moment just absorbing what he’d said before answering. “I think that is just about the sexiest thing I think has ever come out of a man’s mouth,” I blurted.
    “Are you sure?” He asked. “Because you’ve never seen me spit to hit a mark.”
    “See, now you just killed it.”
    Callum snorted. “I think you’re the only person on this planet that seems to agree with me on that particular subject,” he joked.
    “Not at all, dork. I can think of a million girl’s names right here and now that would be right there with you.”

“
But not you?” He boldly asked.

“
Callum Tate! I’m riding the v-train with you, aren’t I? Got the ticket and everything. Gotta’ admit, it’s the slowest and most boring train ride ever but, sheesh, I know the destination will be worth it. Give me a little credit, will ya’?”

“
Callum!” I screamed, laughing. My face turned another shade of red. Like I said, thank God for the dark.

I turned to face him and felt his breath move my hair. Callum surprised me by reaching out and tucking it behind my ear but doesn’t return the hand behind his head like it was before. Instead, he laid his left hand on my own and we drift off to sleep, each lulled by the warmth of a sincere body.

    The next morning, I woke groggily to quiet and pitch black but Callum’s hand wasn’t on my own. I instinctively reached out but it continued on to the end of the pallet.
He’s gone
. I sat up, wondering why Callum would have left for his advisor meeting without me. Deciding to stand, I stretched and lifted myself up to search for the light switch, fumbling along the wall for the raised plastic rectangle. In my haste to find the switch, I forgot to feel around at my feet and ran into something hard, falling to my knees.
    “Crap!” I said, my hand going to my right knee. My fingers come back warm and wet.
Bleeding, great
. I hobbled toward the door but before I could reach it, it opened, revealing a casually dressed Callum. I take note that t-shirts and jeans should be his clothing of choice, regardless the occasion.
I’d marry that t-shirt and jeans,
I thought to myself.
Wait a minute. Where did that come from?
He strode in and flipped on the light. I squinted my eyes at the sudden brightness.
    “Sorry, I didn’t wake you, did I?” He asked, then noticed me bleeding. “Oh, crap!” He set down the cups of coffee and bag he was carrying on the table with our clothing and knelt at my level. “You okay? Here.” He grabbed his bath towel and pressed it lightly against the small laceration.
    “It’s really not that bad,” I offered, slightly embarrassed but growing fascinated by the masculine hand still at my knee. Callum surprises me by taking my hand but before I can read too much into it, he replaces his hand with mine.
    “Keep pressure on it,” he said, before standing and spinning toward, what I assumed, was our cooling breakfast.
    He reached for the bag and pulled out two bagels and cream cheese.
    “I hope you like bagels,” he smirked.
    “I like them. You did good, Callum.”
    “How do you take your coffee?” He asked.