A tear glides down my face when I feel my soft pillow under my cheek. I’m not ready to be back here. I want to go back.
Squeezing my eyes tightly closed, I pray to whatever god will listen to send me back.
Send me back to the beast.
Don’t make me stay here alone.
Don’t make me wait another month to see him again.
I open first one eye, then another. My heart clenches in dread when I’m still lying in my room at my parents’ house.
Throwing the covers off and draping my legs over the side of my bed, I stand and start getting ready for my day.
I hear my parents’ hushed voices outside my door, but I can also hear two voices I don’t recognize. Quickly, I change into my clothes, then tiptoe down the hallway to see what’s going on. There are two police officers standing in my parents’ living room. “What’s going on?” I ask.
Every eye in the room turns toward me. My mom’s hand goes to her mouth, and she asks, “Where have you been?”
My dad wraps his arm around her shoulders and turns to the two police officers. “It looks like she’s snuck back in, officers. We’re sorry to have bothered you,” he tells them.
My dad follows the officers to the front door, and my mom comes to me and wraps her arms around me. “Where have you been, Callie? When you didn’t come out of your room yesterday, we called the police. They made us wait twenty-four hours before they would come out and report you as a missing person.”
“I need to tell you guys something. Dad, if you could come sit on the couch with us?”
When we’re all settled, one parent on either side of me, I start from the beginning. I tell them again all about finding the journals. About reading the story inside. But I continue past what they already know, recounting my first journey to the journal world and me thinking it was just a dream. I tell them about the people there and about the impending war happening. I can’t help but smile as I tell them about the beast until I get to the part where he was injured right in front of me.
“Oh, my God,” my mom responds.
My dad reaches across me to grasp her hand before asking, “Why did you leave on Christmas night?”
I look down at my hands, fiddling with my top, nervous energy needing to be released somehow. “I can’t control when I go. Or at least, I haven’t figured out how to control it yet. I was here for a month after he was shot. Not knowing if he survived the… the…” I bring my hand to my mouth, take a breath trying to steady myself from the memory of that day, “wounds. And when I finally got back there, the infection had almost killed him.”
“You love him, don’t you, Callie?” my mom asks. My eyes snap to hers. I look at her through tear-filled eyes. “We don’t always know why the universe chooses us for things. My ancestors never knew why they were the ones gifted with the chest. Just as you will probably never know why you are the only one of us able to travel to the prison world. But I have faith that you will figure out what you need to do in time.”
My phone rings in the other room, and I stand to get it and answer without looking at the screen. “Hello?”
“Callie.” That’s the only word out of his mouth, the only thing he says before waiting for me to respond.
“Where the fuck have you been?” I am pissed. He’s been missing for over a month, not responding to any messages or phone calls. I assumed he had just ghosted me and I was resolved to never hear from him again.
“I’m sorry.” I scoff at the lame words. He has a whole lot of explaining to do if he expects me to give him the time of day again. “I was… injured. Today is the first I’ve been able to use my phone since it happened.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Mason, you’ve ghosted me for over a month and the best response you have is ‘I’ve been injured and couldn’t use my phone’?” If I could spew fire like a dragon, it would be coming out of my nose and mouth right now.
“It’s the truth, Callie. I haven’t been able to use my phone in… a month? Has it been a month?”
“Yes, Mason, it’s been a month. A month of unreturned phone calls. A month of unanswered texts. A month of me assuming you’d just ghosted me. You missed Christmas with my family, by the way.”
I hear a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone. “Callie, I’m so sorry. Tell me what I need to do to make it up to you?” he pleads.
A soft touch on my back makes me turn around. My mom is standing behind me. “Give me a second, Mason,” I say into the phone, hitting mute so he can’t hear whatever my mom has to tell me.
“Give him a chance, sweetie. Maybe he really was hurt?” If my mom wasn’t standing right there, I would tell Mason to fuck off and block his number. But with my mom’s eyes pleading with me, I can’t just be the bitch I want to be.
Hitting the button to unmute the phone, I bring the phone back to my ear. “Are you doing anything for lunch?”
He takes a moment to respond. I’m sure feeling a bit of whiplash from my sudden tone change. “I was going to just cook some ramen and settle on the couch. Why, what do you have in mind?”
“Why don’t you come eat with me and my parents?” That way, I have some backup if he doesn’t show.
“Text me the time and address, I’ll be there,” he says, and I end the call.
“If you think I’m in love with the beast, why would you push me toward Mason?” I ask.
“Because, sweetie, the beast is trapped in a prison world we don’t know he’ll ever make it out of. And if the two never meet, they never have to know about each other, right?” She winks at me before laughing her way out of the room.
As soon as she’s gone, I pull out my phone and open up the Besties Group Chat.
Me
Stacy
Jen
Huxlee
Me
Huxlee
Jen
Stacy
Jen
* * *
He’s using a crutch and limping when he gets to my parents’ place. A large bandage is wrapped around his thigh. “Oh, my God, what happened?” I motion to his leg.
“Uh… farm accident.” I decide for my mom’s sake to take his answer at face value, although I would really rather probe a little more.
After helping him get settled into a chair, I go into the kitchen and help Mom get lunch ready. “I hope you like leftovers,” she says, carrying a tray of various things leftover from our Christmas feast.
“If they taste as good as they smell, I’m sure I’ll never want to leave,” he answers.
We all settle around the living room. Dad turns on a movie channel that plays continuous holiday movies this time of year.
I sit far away from Mason on the couch, both because I’m still a little angry at him for ghosting me, and because I don’t want to jostle his leg. But when my mom comes in, she glares at me. Hard. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, grabbing my phone before getting up. From my hiding spot, I open up the Besties chat.
Me
Stacy
Me
Huxlee
Jen
Stacy
Jen
Me
When I get back in the living room, I sit closer to him.
He nonchalantly rests his hand, palm up on his thigh, an invitation for me to hold it. Reluctantly, I entwine my fingers with his. He squeezes them in response.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see my mom’s slight smile as she steals a glance at us.
Overall, we have a pleasant lunch. He gets along with my parents well and other than the fact I keep thinking about him ghosting me for over a month; I decide to give him another chance.
This will be the last one.
* * *
He hangs out with us until well after dinner. Finally, I help him out to his car. He opens the driver door and shoves his crutch inside before leaning against the backdoor and grasping my hand again.
I let him pull me to him and rest my hands on his hips. Gently, he holds my face, sweeping my cheeks with his thumbs. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” I stare into his brown eyes.
“I really am very sorry, Callie. If I had any control over the situation, I would have been here. I swear it to you.” His tone is so honest and raw, my heart thaws a little more.
Too soon, he’s saying goodbye, and he repeats again, “It’s important to remember, looks can be deceiving.” Then he climbs into his car. I wrap my arms around myself while I watch him pull out of the driveway, going off into the wintery night.
That damn phrase is going to drive me crazy. What does he mean by it? Why does he keep repeating it? What does it mean? His injury is a lie? He really wears makeup to cover up his hideous face? Maybe he wears a toupee? But no, his short brown hair appears to be his own. The fact he has yet to answer me when I ask also concerns me.
When I’m lying in bed with the journal, I get a text from him thanking me again for letting him come over today. I reply and decide to put the journal away for another time.
Opening up the Besties chat, I send them a text.
Me
Huxlee
Jen
Me
Stacy
Smiling, I set my phone on the nightstand before falling asleep.