Page 60 of Unscripted

I didn’t have to wait long to find out as he came in and joined me at the sink.

We brushed our teeth next to each other in heavy, weighted silence.

When I was done and about to head back into the girls’ dressing room, he finally spoke.

“Have a nice night?” he said, his tone laced with a hint of antagonism.

“Yes, actually. It was lovely. I had a great chat with James,” I said, thrilled I was able to throw it in his face.

“I saw,” he said.

“And you? Have a great time with Sara tonight?” I asked, unable to stop myself from bringing it up.

“The best.”

“Wonderful.”

“Great.”

It was definitely not great, nor wonderful. We were throwing our words at each other, and in the silence after, all that remained was his intense gaze meeting mine.

How did it always end up like this, with us in some kind of tense staring contest?

I was suddenly exhausted by it all. Not wanting to play games anymore, I turned and walked out of the bathroom.

Getting into bed, I quickly rolled over and away from Callum’s side. I willed my body to relax, but it was no use. Despite being depleted by the day, I was wide awake.

Feeling much more sensible than an hour ago, I could see that talking to James had been a horrible idea. If anything, Callum and I were now even further apart. The whole thing was a mess, and a way out of it seemed increasingly impossible as time went on. I wasn’t sure where we could even go from here.

The bed sank next to me as Callum climbed in. I could feel his body heat, always so warm and radiating, as he also rolled over.

Away from me.

***

The next morning began the same as all the others.

Wake up to blinding lights, ignore Callum in bed, talk to the girls, get ready for the day.

Only this time, when I headed out to the garden, I was in no mood to engage with anyone. I was drained by the past two days' events and tired of thinking them over so obsessively.

I managed to avoid dealing with anything until after lunch. Turning into the kitchen, I found, yet again, Callum talking with Sara. They weren’t doing anything untoward, both were just filling up their water bottles from the sink’s tap, but seeing them together again, and standing so close to it this time, something in me snapped.

I needed to talk to Callum.

We can’t keep doing this. I can't keep doing this.

“I’m going for a smoke,” I announced, loud enough for him to hear me. Catching his eye, I gave what I hoped to be a look that communicated he should follow.

Ten minutes later, sitting on the tiny bench in the smoker’s area, I was about to give up and go hunt down Callum myself when the gate was pushed open, and he walked through.

I gestured for him to turn off his mic, which he did, and then it was just us two, staring at each other.

“You called?” he said, not one hint of friendliness in his voice.

“What the hell is going on with you?” I asked, jumping to my feet.

“Me? What’s going on with you?”