{ A/N – Here's the part we've all been waiting for! Please vote, comment and enjoy. }
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No one spoke on the way home. Bitter, pitiful silence and the whir of the heating turned up to maximum temperature filled the car as Callum drove me straight back to our apartment block. Holly was walking Brenna back by hand – it had taken nearly five minutes for one of the stewards to catch her and thankfully she was unharmed, though shaken. I'd stood by numbly, soaking wet and discouraged, as the disaster unravelled itself before me.
"Sorry for making your car wet," I said blankly, puncturing the silence. I didn't think Callum would let me into his precious car in my state, but surprisingly he made an exception – after laying out several picnic blankets to protect the seat first.
"I could hardly let you walk home like that. You'd catch pneumonia," he said, making no effort to disguise the concern in his voice.
"And people would laugh at me," I said bitterly.
He managed a small laugh. "No. Only me."
I didn't reply, my mood too foul to indulge in banter.
"Not such a good show, huh?" he said softly.
I scowled at the window. "That's an understatement. It was disastrous."
"Don't lose faith though, Madison," he tried to console me. But, right now, no amount of uplifting words could heal the ache in my heart and my body – only a warm shower, clean clothes and my bed held that power.
He pulled the car into a vacant parking space in front of the apartment block, and I raced out of the car before he'd even killed the engine. I left a puddle of water behind me as I darted towards the lift, each footstep squelching against the clean tiles of the floor. The elevator seemed to take three times longer than usual ascending, and I hobbled straight towards the welcome warmth of my apartment and grabbed a towel.
"Callum?" I raised an eyebrow at him when I noticed he'd trailed into my apartment as well. I jutted one leg out, hand on my hip pointedly. "What are you doing here?"
"We need to talk," he replied.
I rolled my eyes, biting back a sigh. "Callum, I'm really not in the mood."
"It's important," he persisted.
"I just had an unimaginably disastrous show with the horse that's supposed to take me to Kentucky Horse Trials in less than a year. I'm exhausted and stressed and upset and I could really do without a lecture from you right now," I snapped. "And what could you possibly have to say to me, anyway? It's no secret that there's a feeling of mutual dislike between us. Have you just come to snide?"
"What?" his faded cobalt orbs widened with shock, like this was news to him.
I gritted my teeth, folding my arms over my chest. I hadn't intended for the words to escape quite so bluntly - exhaustion and stress had pushed them off my tongue - but they were true. "We hate each, Callum. It's not exactly a secret."
He chuckled dryly. "Oh, I'm certain about the dislike. But I'm going to reject the fact that it's 'mutual'."
"What?" now it was my turn to look shocked.
"What makes you think that I hate you, Madison?" his lips twisted into his infuriatingly attractive smirk.
"Really?" I rolled my eyes at him.
"Yeah, really. Tell me. I'm curious."
I sighed. "With everyone else you act all charming and cheerful and compassionate, yet whenever you're with me you act all hostile and impatient. You never say more than necessary either. It's clear you just don't like being around me."
He was silent for a long moment, his features shifting into a grave frown that took over his whole face. The only sounds in the apartment were the soft humming of the fridge and the faint rotations of the clock hands.
"Why do you hate me so much, Madison?" he said lowly after a while, his gaze dark as the tides in the azure oceans in his irises crashed into each other. I tried to hold it, but it was too intense.
"You want the truth?" I said. He replied with a short nod. I sighed and strode over to the window slowly, glancing out across the framed view of Ashling. Rolling green hills tumbled over each other, verdant blades of grass dancing in the winter's breeze. By now, dusk had fallen on the horizon, painting the sky in a pale shade of cotton-candy. A huge cloud loomed overhead like a dark umbrella, so close I could almost touch it. "Callum...you have the air of someone who gets whatever they want without even trying. You're so used to charming your way into getting whatever you want. And you're arrogant about it! Whereas I...I've worked my ass off for every opportunity I've ever received."
He laughed dryly. "Really? That's why you hate me?"
"Yeah," I said gruffly, arms still folded over my chest.
"Isn't that a bit immature, Madison?" he said wryly.
I shrugged, frowning at the window.
"You hate me because I'm charming and arrogant?" he said, running a hand through his hair and cruising his perfectly aligned teeth over his bottom lip. He was leaning against the arm of my sofa, letting out a jesting laugh and the rich sound filled the space in my apartment and bounced back across it.
"Isn't that a good enough reason for you?" I retorted.
"You hate me because I don't try hard enough?" his voice was thick and taunting.
I scowled in response.
"You hate me because we're opposites?"
I turned to face him, letting my arms fall to my sides. Any last embers of patience flickering in my stomach now extinguished. "Callum, please. I can't deal with this right now. Just go."
His eyes narrowed with a feature that was foreign to him. Determination. He strode towards me purposefully, each stride ringing through the walls off my apartment. He stopped a little too close to me and touched my arm just above the elbow, letting his hand slide down until my fingertips were lightly pressed into his hand. For a moment, I let him.
"I don't hate you, Madison," his voice was thick and low, every syllable in my name sounding purposeful.
"Okay," I said breezily, pulling my hand from his grasp.
"No, really. I've never hated you. At all," his voice was insistent, willing me to believe him.
"Then why do you act as if you do?" I met his gaze and held it. There was something swarming behind those cerulean irises, something that made my stomach churn.
"Because..." he looked away, his gaze creeping to the window. "Because you're right."
"About what?" I was starting to get frustrated again.
"I do get what I want without even having to try. Things come naturally to me. I'm so used to charming my way into getting what I want - especially girls - that..."
He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. When he met my gaze again, he looked slightly bashful. Well, that was a first.
"I'm so used to charming my way into getting things that I was kind of taken aback when it didn't work with you. I didn't know how to act."
I bit my lip, searching his gaze. The azure tides were calmer now and his tone was earnest, so I believed his words. "So...you decided to act cold and hostile?"
"I didn't mean to come across like that! Maybe I was a little mad because you were the first person I'd met that didn't succumb to my charm straightaway, but I've never hated you."
My gaze wandered to the window again, and I felt him pressing my fingers into his hand once again.
"I've never met someone so...determined," he said, his tone soft.
I've never met someone so arrogant. The thought scurried across my mind but didn't find its way to my lips.
"I know," I said gently. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Good in most cases..." he replied. "But not when you're so determined not to give in to my irresistible charm and good-looks."
I glanced at him to see a smirk playing on his lips. I allowed a small grin to sneak over mine too. "Can't be that irresistible then."
He grinned too for a brief moment, before his features rearranged themselves to look earnest again, with a hint of bashful. "It's more than that..."
"What's more than what?" my tone was slightly exasperated again.
"Madison...you're special to me," he confessed. He couldn't meet my gaze, running a hand through his hair and looking slightly nervous – an emotion I'd never before seen on him. "I admire you. I admire your talent and your determination and your strength. But it's more than that."
"Thanks," I blushed, flattered by his compliment. Avery's words fluttered in my head once more – it's so obviously you he likes! Was a variation of those words now falling from Callum's lips? Was Avery right? "Callum, I'm not entirely sure what you're trying to say."
"Me neither," he admitted sheepishy. "I don't think there are words for it."
"Words for what?"
"Madison...I like you. A lot."
As the confession fell from his lips, suddenly everything fell into place. I now saw things between Callum and I through a new, clearer, brighter lens. His actions had not been an expression of shallow detestation, but of subtle affection. How he'd found ways to be closer to me – joining me on hacks and cross country schooling and offering me lifts home – despite his grumpiness near me. Being concerned when I'd sprained my wrist and taking me to hospital. Candid smiles, bottom lips chewed off, hands grazing. The new lens unveiled a picture in dazzling, brilliant colour.
But there's a thin line between love and hate. True, I've harboured a strong hatred for Callum's arrogance and ability to get whatever he wants without trying since that day I met him. But, in all honesty, he was too attractive for a part of my heart not to fall for him. There were oceans in his eyes and it was easy to get caught in his currents. I recognized now how childish it was to detest Callum simply because we were opposites, and with the new knowledge that he likes me there was nothing to stop me from falling wholeheartedly.
Before I had the chance to reply, Callum was walking towards the kitchen and filling the kettle with water.
"There's something else I need to tell you, Madison," he announced over the low drone of the kettle boiling water. "Would you like a cup of tea?"
It felt like such a simple, trivial request considering it followed such a significant confession. I nodded slightly, not trusting myself to speak yet as I couldn't yet find a way to arrange the words in the right way.
Neither of us said anything as the water boiled. I watched him numbly as he placed tea bags into two mugs and waited a minute for the tea to brew. Wordlessly, he poured soy milk into both cups, puncturing the silence only to ask if I wanted sugar or not. One spoon for me, two for him. He handed my mug over silently and sunk onto the sofa. I realised at that moment that my clothes were still slightly damp, but it didn't seem like an appropriate moment to change.
"About a year ago..." he launched into his story immediately, pausing only to blow on his steaming mug. "About a year ago, I went to a very prestigious show jumping competition in Florida with my most talented horse, Billboard. There were a lot of experienced international riders there – all big names in the business – so we were the complete underdogs, considering hardly anyone had heard of us before. But Billboard, Billie – he was an absolute star – and we won."
I clasped my steaming mug between my hands, letting the warmth of the liquid inside seep heat into my frozen hands. Callum took a sip of his tea, glancing at me hesitantly. The words were still caught in my throat.
"Me and my best mate, Ben, went out to a bar afterwards to celebrate. We got quite drunk. No, we got really drunk. And at some point after midnight, Ben told me he was going to take Billboard home. I didn't go with him because I was...preoccupied with some random girl I'd met. But even though I knew that he was completely pissed, I let him go. To be fair, I was too out of it myself to think straight. The show was based in Miami and we lived in Boca Raton, less than an hour away, so it wouldn't have taken long to get back anyway."
He trailed off, a distant look clouding over his eyes. Like the pale cobalt waves were retreating into low tide. "There's a reason there's a law against drink-driving, and I discovered it that night. Ben was too drunk. He...crashed the car. Both him and Billie lost their lives. My best friend. My star horse."
A bitter silence filled the apartment as the weight of Callum's losses fell upon us. I wanted to offer him words of consolation, of empathy, but they caught in my throat. No amount of kind words would bring back Ben and Billboard.
"And the worst part?" there was an iciness in Callum's tone now. The sadness, the ache, the loss faded into bitter regret and guilt – something I could identify all too well after Harry's accident. But this was on another scale. Remorse and self-blame dripped from Callum's voice like poison. "It's my fault. I knew Ben was too drunk, but I still let him go. If I hadn't, they would both still be alive."
"No," I said firmly, finding my voice at last. "You can't blame yourself. It was an accident, it could've happened to anyone. Accidents happen and tragedy strikes the people who don't deserve it. If I could take away the pain or change what happened, I would. But all you can do now is accept that what happened is in the past and try to move forward."
I recognised the words as identical to the ones Avery had offered me when I blamed myself for Harry's accident. And judging by the way the oceans in Callum's eyes came alive again, they'd had the same consoling affect on him that they'd had on me. In a strange, twisted way, it seemed in that moment that Callum and I weren't as different as I'd first anticipated. The distance that had been caved between us was bridged together by two separate tragedies that allowed us to relate to each other, find comfort in one another – though his pain was amplified several times more than my own. Harry and I would recover, but Ben and Billboard never could.
"Thank you," he said softly, but I could tell that the full weight of his gratitude stretched beyond those two simple words.
I offered him a small, sad smile in reply.
"I haven't had a sip of alcohol since," he said dismally.
"Does that also happen to be part of the reason why you're so precious about your car too?" I raised an eyebrow, attempting to inject some warmth and humour into my voice to lighten the atmosphere.
He managed a weak, watery smile and a small shrug.
"Callum, there's something I need to tell you too," I announced softly. He looked up, meeting my eyes for the first time since I'd told me about his tragedy. Sadness mingled with hope danced behind his faded denim irises. It was a haunting look, one that I knew would instantly be cemented in my bones and engraved in my mind's eye.
The words had fallen off my tongue before they had formed in my mind. I didn't know how to explain my feelings to him, because I didn't understand them yet myself. So instead, I closed the distance between us and all coherent thoughts were pushed from my mind. The only thing I was aware of was Callum's lips, gentle and soft yet insistent on my own. All the cheesy descriptions about kisses with chemistry and fireworks evolved into life and suddenly I developed a new respect for whoever first recorded these internationally recognized metaphors.
In that moment, nothing mattered except the intimate embrace we were caught in.