SAINT, SINNER AND THE GIRL IN BETWEEN

CALLA

This summer felt like a movie.

Sun on my skin, water in my hair. Late night swims in the lake behind the summer house while our parents drank wine on the deck, and Miles cannon balled into the water drenching me completely. I splashed back at him, laughing, but his grin was infuriating. He moves like he is always on the ice, fast, deliberate, and impossible to catch off guard.

We have done summers together since kindergarten. Our families vacation every year like it’s tradition. Same place, same inside jokes, same two families tangled together as if fate had it planned. But this year was different. Miles looked at me differently after what felt like forever.

It started small. A hand lingering at the small of my back when he passed by in the kitchen. A knee pressing against mine at the table. The way his eyes held mine a second too long when he said my name.

“Cal.”

Only he called me that. Then, one night, everything changed. We were on the dock past midnight. I was talking about college applications, senior year, how weird it feels that everything is ending... and he just watched. Not distracted, not teasing how much of an obsessive nerd I am... he just stared at me.

“What?” I laughed, nervous.

He shook his head slowly. “You have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen.”

“What?” This time, my lips quivered a little. Miles never said such things to me. Ever. I was apprehensive, and then he leaned closer. Something inside me snapped and my mind screamed when his warm breath filtered into my skin.

When he kissed me, it wasn’t rushed or messy. It was precise and certain and warm. His hands moved through my hair as if they belonged there. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

This is it, I thought. After all these years. After watching him date girls who didn’t see him the way I do. After listening to him complain about them. After telling myself timing just hadn’t been right.

This is it. And then we crossed every line we had tiptoed around since we were thirteen. Every glance he gave me afterward made me feel chosen. I was foolish enough to believe it would all last.

Now, standing in my driveway the night before senior year starts, I can feel it slipping through my fingers. He won’t meet my eyes.

“Calla,” he says quietly.

My stomach drops. He only says my name like that when he is about to say something serious.

“I have been thinking.”

Not good. I wrap my arms around myself. “Okay.”

He runs a hand through his hair, looking conflicted.

“That night on the dock.… and everything after… it wasn’t a mistake.”

Hope rises stubbornly as I imagine starting off senior year as Miles Bennett’s girlfriend. Finally.

“But,” he continues gently, “I don’t think we should make it more than it was.”

More than it was?

“I don’t... um... what was it?” I ask before I can stop myself.

He exhales. “It was a summer fling, Cal. We were both caught up and it just happened.”

It just happened, like tripping in the rain. Not like years of silent longing, not like all those nights I dreamed he would notice me had finally come true.

“I thought you said you weren’t hiding how you felt about me anymore,” I remind him, my voice steadier than I feel. I can literally feel my heart challenging every vein holding it steady.

“I know,” he steps closer, lowering his voice. “I meant that at the time. I just…. things with Brina aren’t as done as I thought.”

There it is. Always Sabrina Holt.

“She came over yesterday,” he says quickly. “We talked and I realized I might have rushed things.”

I swallow something bitter that aches all the way to my stomach as reality hits. I was the impulse, the fun distraction.

“I don’t regret what happened between us,” he adds, touching my wrist. I almost pull away. “I care about you more than anyone. You know that.”

My throat tightens.

“I just don’t want to ruin us over something that wasn’t meant to be serious.”

Wasn’t meant to be serious? I stare at him, my verbal ability completely ripped out. It would be easier if I could look away but my brain is too heavy to perform even such an easy task.

He steps closer carefully. “Tomorrow is the first day of senior year. I don’t want things to be awkward. I don’t want to lose you over this.”

Wow. I never thought anyone could act so cool while breaking a heart.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he adds with a nervous chuckle. “Say something?”

Like what? Broken? Angry? Desperate? And say what?

I swallow hard. “Okay.”

He searches my eyes, trying to convince himself he is doing the right thing. Maybe he believes he is, and that’s what makes it worse.

“You are my best friend, Cal,” he says. “That’s never changing.”

Best friend. That word sounds wrong. I nod because I don’t trust myself to speak.

He squeezes my wrist once more, then steps back. “We are good? You are not mad at me?”

The question hangs in the air. God, I want to punch him in the face, dismantle his perfect jawline, butthead his runway model nose, and maybe smash his teeth in. But I force a perfect smile.

“We are good,” I whisper.

Relief washes over his face. That’s what breaks me. He smiles softly, grateful, and starts leaving. I stand there still silent, trying to figure out how something so big could shrink into this. Then he stops. Part of me hopes he feels bad and wants to take everything back. Only for him to pull out the only string holding me together.

“By the way, can we keep what happened between us private? Brina can’t find out. You know she is not as understanding as you are.”

Oh, sure. Make me feel like a dirty mistress too, Miles. I can take it.

“Mm-hmm.” I nod, biting my lip because I’m trying not to give the mess I am away.

“Great! You are the best, Cal. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you.”

I don’t clock how long I stand there, or when I walk past my parents in the kitchen, to my bedroom. There, the tears I have held back entirely break free. I sob uncontrollably into my pillow, muffling the sound because I don’t want anyone knowing how humiliated I feel.

Then, my phone pings. I grab it, once again reviving some hope. I don’t learn, do I?

Brina Holt tagged me in a post. I freeze, then I open it.

Miles is kissing her. He is wearing the same shirt he wore minutes ago. The caption reads, “Back where we always belonged.” I get another notification, this time from Miles. His caption reads, “My cheerleader. No one can come between what was meant to be.”

That douchebag!

It was posted two minutes ago. He didn’t go home to think. He went straight to her after breaking my heart into a million pieces, and didn’t even realize it. I stare at the screen until the image blurs.

I really thought I mattered. Turns out I was just a chapter he skimmed past.