Unchained Melody (12 page)

Now she wished she could be pissed at him again, as she had been since the start of October. It had been distracting, helping her crave distance. But once he’d looked at her like that and pinned her to the mattress… she sighed again. It was like Ryan and Hunter had been coloring outside the lines all week and she had been policing them. Then, in complete frustration, Callie had grabbed a black marker and slashed it over the flawed picture, rendering it unrecognizable.

Now she had to live with the knowledge that she actually liked Hunter. Since their close encounter that afternoon she’d been so hyper aware of his body language that she’d kept tuning out of the conversation, analyzing every breath he took, every look he shot her. She didn’t know how deep her feelings ran for him in the romantic sense, but she knew she probably wasn’t going to be able to think anything over rationally until the fog of hormones lifted. And under those hormones was a foundation of friendship. So if the two could come together like that, then wasn’t falling in love sort of inevitable?

Maybe it seemed that way, to her. But she had no clue what Hunter was thinking. Yeah he’d made the moves, talked the talk- but what path was he going to walk after? Meredith had called after dinner, and Hunter had taken the phone out to the porch and spoken to her for twenty minutes. So did he think that he could just sleep with Callie behind his girlfriend’s back and then carry on like nothing had happened? And if he did, was that what Callie wanted? Had she accidentally offered herself to him as way to break the tension with no-strings attached? Or had she hoped that the encounter would have been so wonderful that things would have just fallen into place after, or gone back to normal?

It sure seemed like Hunter was up for the drive-by sort of hook-up. Obviously, he didn’t like her enough to break up with his girlfriend or even try to hold her hand or something in front of Ryan. In fact, when she’d all but said ‘take me’ she’d held her breath for a kiss that hadn’t happened because he’d flown off for a franger. Just recalling that made her feel cheap. Maybe Hunter, being a boy could just have sex with his female friend and not put any thought into it, but though Callie could separate sex from love; what mattered to her was the dynamics of their friendship- and the way she had been obsessing over Hunter’s every smile and laugh all afternoon told her that she wanted more than an exchange of virginities with Hunter. Maybe she wanted to be his girlfriend. And if she slept with him and he went back to Meredith without a backwards look, it was going to hurt her. But she didn’t want him to know that in case it scared him off, not just as a lover, but a friend.

And then, at the end of it all there was Ryan, who had been the first one to drag his crayon over the line. The idea of being wanted had never really occurred to Callie before. She’d never felt butterflies, had never even been turned on. But it was like one look from Ryan that previous Friday night had grabbed her by the hormones and shaken her senses clean out. Maybe she didn’t want Hunter at all; maybe she just wanted to feel like she mattered to someone because Ryan had stolen her breath and then punched her in the stomach with rejection. Maybe it was Ryan she wanted to be with and was just working her exasperation out on the nearest warm, deliciously hard body.

Maybe she was like every other girl after all. Maybe she was just as stupid and show-offy and narcissistic. Maybe she only wanted Hunter because he had been ‘hers’ and now she didn’t want to share with the other kids. The only thing she knew for sure was that if she didn’t get her act together, she was going to ruin everything.

Her sanity felt like it was threatening to slip away. Maybe she had freaked out on Monday afternoon and imagined the whole scene with Imogen in Mr Banks classroom, but she had not imagined the way the woman had confronted her at the disco, and she had Marnie to witness it! So what had happened? For all the times Callie had suffered panic attacks from her phobia, she had never imagined women attacking her or breaking glass or submersion in unseen water before. Nothing was making sense. So there was only one thing to hold onto; music.

‘I hope the gig goes well tomorrow night.’ She whispered. ‘This cyclone is getting close though. Will the bar even be open?’

Ryan shrugged. ‘If Cyclone Addison is that close, then there won’t be a gig because we’ll be here passing you paper bags.’

‘Not if the music is loud enough,’ Callie whispered back, actually confident in making that statement as she tweaked the end of his nose. ‘Or good enough. It’s all on you fellas.’

Ryan mock-nipped at her finger then grinned. ‘I’ll sing my heart out then Cal, just for you.’

Callie flushed pleasantly and a squeak of bedsprings prevented her from having to answer.

‘What are you two whispering about?’ Hunter’s voice sounded agitated. ‘We all need our beauty sleep, you know.’

‘Precisely what we were discussing,’ there was an edge to Ryan’s voice.

Callie sighed and rolled onto her back. ‘You’re right Hunter. Sorry.’

‘It’s okay.’ Hunter’s voice had softened. A second later, Callie felt one of his fingers trace up the centre of her wrist and then stroke the sensitive flesh there. Her heartbeat accelerated again. Out of the corner of her eye to see that Hunter had rolled to the very edge of his bed, so close to the edge that he was half hanging off it in order to touch her.

Why are you doing that? She wanted to ask him, but couldn’t. What about Meredith? What about Ryan? Why did I lose my mind this afternoon and jump you right back when I’m supposed to be the level-headed one?

But then Hunter’s fingers laced through hers on one side, just as Ryan snuggled closer to her, resting his forehead against her bicep. Callie stiffened, opening her mouth to exclaim: ‘What is going on with us?! If either of you actually want to be more than a friend to me speak now, or forever hold your piece- and your own damn hands!’ And just clear the air. But she couldn’t because if they turned that question on her, she didn’t have an answer either! So she lay in the dark and wondered if they could feel the thickness of the air as she did. Then she wondered if they were each flooded with warmth and desire, as she was.

And then, she wondered if, after the gig was over, they would be too. She reached down, pressed her headphones to her ears and hit play on the Discman, letting Shania sing her to sleep.

Now was not the time to rock anything- but roll right under the radar.

11.

Callie spent most of the day barricading herself in Hunter’s room, attempting to read her book and not act like a complete nutcase every time the wind whistled through the trusses of the house in a way that sounded like one thousand banshees were descending to rip her head off her shoulders.

The heavy rain started at about one in the afternoon and when the lightning started around two, Callie rushed into the living room like a snake had bitten her, throwing herself at Hunter’s mum, holding the too-narrow woman tightly.

‘I’m sorry.’ She whispered, staring at the television over Josie Mark’s shoulder, where the Channel 7 team were showing flooding in Proserpine. Then it flashed to a neon satellite pic of a red and purple circular cloud rotating closer and closer to the central part of QLD. She cringed; Horizon wasn’t on the map but Araulen Valley was and it was well within the ‘red’. She shuddered and looked around the room, noting that Josie had put away her breakables and marked the glass of the windows with large ‘X’s’ in masking tape. They were in trouble then- Hunter’s mother didn’t even allow blue-tack on walls.

‘It’s okay sweetheart.’Mrs Marks whispered soothingly.

After Josie had held her for a while, Callie accepted a sandwich and sat across from her, sipping tea and trying to make idle chit chat while hiding the fact that she was squeezing a balled-fist between her knees and trying not to scream. The rain sounded like machine gun fire on the roof. She blew the steam off the top of her cup and smiled gratefully at Mrs M. ‘Thanks for this.’ She said softly. ‘I know how busy you guys are.’

‘Oh honey, think nothing of it.’ She reached over and patted Callie’s hand. ‘And it’s the least we can do for you, Callie. You’re such a good influence on my boy.’

Callie thought of the way Hunter had sucked back a tequila worm the week before and then had scrambled around his room the day before, looking for a condom packet on her behalf, and blushed down into her fine china tea cup. ‘I don’t know about that…’

‘Oh I do.’ Josie began to say. But then there was a sudden crash and both she and Callie jumped. Callie screamed, then clamped a hand over her mouth, then immediately turned to see what had caused the sound.

‘Oh my goodness! Oh and we just re-stained the deck!’ Hunter’s mum was up already, heading for the screen door leading to the porch. Callie didn’t have to get up to see the massive tree branch which had flown from goodness-knew-where and smashed into the verandah railing. It was wedged between the topmost and middle railing and looked old, brittle and still breaking. Then another crash resounded, this one on the roof, and Callie bolted to the nearest corner, backing up against the breakfast bar, and screamed again as she began to crouch. She hugged herself and rocked, trying to keep it together. ‘What was that?!’

‘Nothing honey, just branches coming off the trees over in the meadow. The damn council should have had them lopped back before bushfire season!’

‘Is it safe for you to be standing there?’ Callie whimpered the question. Mrs M didn’t even hear her. She was holding her hand out, as though the sensation of the sheets of rain coming sideways through the door and onto her polished floors was pleasant against her palm. ‘Hey! Rick’s home! That’s odd.’

Callie felt slightly better, knowing that a masculine type was going to be around. She got to her feet and glanced out the kitchen window to the forest behind them, wondering how strong the trees were… what the chances were that one would topple down on Hunter’s house- or hers!

‘Rick! What’s going on?’

‘Close the door woman! Those winds are already up near fifty knots.’ There was a bang, the metallic one of the flimsy screen door shutting followed by the thunk of the ornate timber door slamming behind it. Callie saw Mr M walk inside and toss an inside-out umbrella onto the couch. His wife instantly clucked her tongue and picked it up like it was a dead rat; by the end, and carried it into the kitchen.

‘So… faulty umbrella?’ Callie made a weak attempt to joke. She couldn’t help it; Hunter’s father was so wet that he looked like he’d swum home. In fact he was a handsome man and sort of looked like Hunter had been soaking in water until he wrinkled.

‘It is raining cat’s dogs and well, I think I saw a Zebu land next to the rhinos in the pond which was once that meadow.’ Hunter’s father had golden hair like his wife and son but grey eyes which were always crinkled in humor. He cocked his head at Callie and said: ‘How you holding up now that it’s shaping up to be a category five?’

‘A what?!’ Callie felt every cell in her body pop like fairy lights plugged into White Zombie’s amp. She hated herself for her weakness and the brittle sound of her voice but then she saw Hunter’s mother’s eyes bug out of her head and she instantly felt a little better not to be the only shocked one. Then she felt worse, because if she wasn’t overreacting, then shit was getting bad. She’d slipped on one of Hunter’s green flannelette shirts earlier and now she pulled it more tightly around herself.

‘Category five?’ The older woman’s awed tone reflecting Callie’s alarm. ‘Where is it hitting?’

‘They’re saying closer to Airlie now. The whole town has gone into lockdown.’

Callie shuddered like electricity was trying to purge itself from her bloodstream. Airlie Beach was only just over an hour away! That didn’t put them in line for the eye but if it was becoming a category five then Horizon was going to get beaten by the outer edges of the storm.

‘Oh honey, don’t worry.’ Hunter’s mother crossed to her and drew her into her arms. ‘It’s not supposed to hit until the middle of the night. That leaves us with over nine hours for it to weaken over the reef.’

‘Which it always does.’ Mr M pointed out. But his face was strained. He looked at his wife and said. ‘I am worried though, about Sadie…’

Sadie? It took Callie a moment to realize who he was referring too and then she remembered; Hunter’s parents kept an eighteen foot, show-room condition sailboat down at the Shale Creek Marina.

‘Right...’ Josie Marks blanched. ‘What should we do?’

‘Gazza says we can put it in his air-hangar but we need to hurry if we’re going to get to Shale Creek before the roads go under.’

Callie’s stomach dropped. Uh-oh. She thought. Drive to Shale Creek? In this?

‘Okay. Good.’ Josie shot Callie an apologetic smile. ‘I hate to do this to you Callie but…’

Callie looked from Hunter’s mother, then to his father, and bit her lip. ‘Look guys, I totally get it- you need to go get the boat, and you know damn well that I won’t be going anywhere near that outside mess that’s a-brewin’.’ She smiled, trying to keep her mood light. ‘It’s okay. Just go. I’ll barricade myself in Hunter’s room and crank up Metallica until someone comes back.’

Hunter’s father’s forehead creased. ‘Thanks Callie, but we promised your parents that we wouldn’t let you out of our sight-’

‘An optimistic promise for parents to make about a teenage girl at the best of times.’ Callie was working the heels of her hands against the cuffs of her sleeves- she didn’t want them to go! But she knew they had to.

‘We’ll wait until Hunter comes back.’ Hunter’s mother said to her husband, her eyes cautioning him to play along.

But Callie shook her head. Storms were scary, but costing her mate’s parents over ninety thousand dollars in damages? That was chilling. ‘Hunter won’t be back for hours. I’ve actually handled this weather a thousand times better today, with you as witnesses, than I’ve handled a thunderstorm in the past. Mum was right- I can deal if I just try.’ She motioned to the door. ‘Now scram! If worst comes to worst, I’ll be under the bed,’ she smiled thinly, ‘with one of those sandwiches I’ve yet to finish.’ Trying to be the picture of calm, Callie walked on trembling legs to the dining table, collected her plate and her cup of tea, and inclined her head towards the hallway. ‘I’ll keep the phone close by and ring someone if I start to lose it. Which I won’t.’ She bit her lip, pausing on Hunter’s threshold. ‘Just… be safe okay? And quick.’

Hunter’s parents exchanged a look. Callie could see that they were trying to protest, but that her argument had sold them on her stability.

Ten minutes later, Callie was back in Hunter’s room, her untouched sandwich on the plate while she wriggled under the bed with Hunter’s walkman at her side and the largest earphones she could find on her head.

But even Nothing Else Matters cranking at thirty decibels in close range couldn’t muffle the sound of her crying from herself, as the wind increased, the rain began to fall like lead, and Callie Clay began to come apart.

*

The weather had gone from creepy to downright unnerving and with every passing second, Hunter’s inner anxiety over Callie’s state of mind began to increase. He felt stupid for having gone to school; half of the kids hadn’t shown up anyway, but the principal wasn’t letting anyone leave unless they were collected by a parent. Apparently, the roads were washing out and the bus services cancelled.

Still, Meredith was there and despite her displeasure over how the wind and rained ruined her hair, she was as excited about the gig as she had been the week before and promised Hunter that they’d all be there with bells on to dance and cheer. Hunter had hugged her in his excitement, grateful for her and her loyalty, and completely drowning in guilt for having almost cheated on her the night before. And feeling guiltier still because he knew that despite the regret he was already feeling, he’d just as soon jump into bed with Callie anyway if the offer came up again- even if his girlfriend offered it first- because it was Callie he wanted, Callie he was falling for. He was using Meredith for her friends, and as soon as he and Ryan had impressed the lot of them, Hunter was going to find a way to end things with Meredith so he could pursue his best mate. He was a horrible person but screw it, he was going to be a legend, and legends had stepped on heads in the past and would again.

Besides he’d heard Meredith and Sacha giggling and whispering about what a ‘basket case,’ Callie Clay was for having missed so many days of school over weather. In the past, they’d always covered up her absences by saying she was sick or whatever but because Reece and Marnie had walked in on Callie during a meltdown the week before, the cat five was out of the bag and the way a lot of people were reacting to learning that she had a severe phobia was just as Callie had always feared; she was being mocked. More than usual. Meredith was being lovely to him, maybe, but he could see now that she wasn’t a lovely person through and through, not like Cal, who’d sent Marnie her electric typewriter on Tuesday so Marnie could stop writing the book she was working on by hand. Marnie wasn’t gossiping about Callie’s Astraphobia. Marnie, like Callie, was sweet. Meredith was jealous and petty, so he’d use her for what he could until Callie demanded exclusivity, which hopefully, was coming. He honestly didn’t know where she was at. The comment about Ryan’s blue eyes was still gnawing on his pride.

The day dragged on but eventually, he and Ryan made it to his car, getting saturated in the process, before driving over to Wolf’s. Hunter was so relieved to see that the neon red wolf’s head silhouette was lit on the roof of the bar that he could have cried. Inside the bar, everything was as it was supposed to be although it looked weird in the daylight and seemed to smell worse.

‘I hope you guys have an unplugged set planned.’ Darren, the owner said, sliding a pot of beer along the bar and into the hands’s of Zeke Green, one of the solo musos who frequented the bar, and the marquee out front. ‘I don’t know how long this power is going to hold out for.’

‘I heard it’s a cat five now.’ Zeke said, before taking a long swig. He wiped the foam off his upper lip off the back of his tattooed hand and shook his head. ‘Getting closer too. They reckon it’s going to make landfall around one now.’

‘Seriously?’ A line appeared between Ryan’s eyes. He glanced at Hunter. ‘Should we just reschedule?’

‘Hell no.’ Hunter didn’t even consider it- he wanted this moment too much! He went to the bar, which was a dusty black, and placed the wet music stand in front of a stool. ‘There’s a busload of tourists stranded down at the Comfort Inn tonight- they’re gonna want to drink, and they’re going to want to enjoy their authentic ‘Aussie’ experience. And we need to be that experience.’ He’d been looking forward to this slot for two months, and they’d have to pry it from his cold, dead hands. ‘We go on. And yes, we have acoustic instruments in case things get a bit campfire around here.’

The phone on the wall jangled and Darren hefted himself off the bar lazily to answer it, exchanging a smirk with Zeke, no doubt thinking of how ‘cute’ Hunter was to be so excited for his big night.

‘I guess that could be cool.’ Ryan admitted. ‘Hey I told you about the song I wrote right? The one Callie’s gonna sing with me?’

Hunter nodded curtly, feeling his mood sour at the recollection of when he’d learned about that song. Then he thought about all of the ‘Callie’ songs Ryan had written, and his annoyance turned to guilt. He shot Ryan a sideways glance and asked: ‘How are you going with Marnie anyway?’

Ryan shrugged despondently. ‘She’s cool.’

‘Hey Hunter… you’re mummy’s on the phone…’ Darren boomed, cracking himself up as he held the standard issue and heavily stained Telecom phone out to Hunter to take. Hunter snatched it, too worried to be embarrassed and hoping he could talk low enough not to be audible over Fire Water Burn on the juke box.

‘Mum? What’s going on?’