Anterograde by Kallysten Page A

back and forth, hands pressed to his ears. He
was right in the spot where Eli had found him, two years earlier, his heart
already slowing down from an overdose, a syringe next to him, the phone with
which he’d called Eli still in his hand. The memory slammed into Eli until he
was sure he would be sick.
    “Not
true,” Calden muttered. “You know it’s not. I didn’t choose. I couldn’t have,
but I didn’t even know. I didn’t! ”
    The
last was an agonized shout as Ca l den grabbed his hair with both hands.
    “Ca l den,” Eli said
quietly. “You need to calm down. I need you to calm down. You’re scaring the
hell out of me.”
    Wide,
bloodshot eyes settled on him. “Eli. Say you believe me, please.”
    “I
believe you,” Eli replied automatically as he took slow, cautious steps toward Ca l den. “I have no
idea what she is saying, but I do know one thing. Sh e’d dead. I know that, and you know that. Don’t you?”
    Ca l den lowered his
hands. His eyes were gleaming with tears. “I don’t know anymore. She knows me .
She knows everything about me. She always did. What if she’s right? What if I
just don’t want to remember she’s right?”
    “Does
she know what you decided on June first?” Eli asked, taking yet another step
closer.
    A
jolt shook Ca l den’s body as though Eli had just hit him. He became
very still and stared at Eli fixedly.
    “How
do you know—”
    “Don’t
ask me,” Eli tutted. “Ask your sister . Ask her what she knows about June first .”
    Ca l den didn’t say
a word, but he turned his face slightly to Eli’s left, his eyes focusing on
nothing.
    “She
knows,” Ca l den said brokenly. “How does she know? I didn’t tell her. I didn’t tell
anyone. I didn’t tell you. Did I tell you? How do you know?”
    “I
don’t.” Eli raised a hand and curled his fingers around Ca l den’s wrist. “I
have no idea what you decided on June
first , because you wouldn’t tell me. You
said if you couldn’t tell what was real or what wasn’t, I should mention that date . You
said if whoever you saw knew about it, it proved that person was nothing more
than a product of your mind because no one else knows. So now you tell me. Is your sister really here ?”
    Ca l den looked at Eli,
looked at the empty space next to him, then looked at Eli’s hand on his wrist,
right below the tattoo exposed by his rolled sleeve .
    “Eli,
I think I need to go home,” he said, trembling.
    Eli
let out a shaky breath. “Yes, yes, you do, you idiot. Let’s go.”
    Eli
didn’t let go of Ca l den’s wrist as they went down and retrieved his
jacket. He had to let go in the car,
but he held on to him again as soon as they arrived home. Only after closing the door behind them did he truly let go and
say, “You’re going straight to bed. Up you go.”
    Ca l den’s answer
was a shaky nod. He hadn’t said a word since the roof, although he sometimes
mouthed words or shook his head. Eli followed him up to his bedroom. He stood
by the door, arms crossed and staring at his shoes as Ca l den stripped
down to his boxers and climbed into bed.
    “How
long?” Eli asked then, walking over to the window to close the curtains.
    “Nine
days,” Ca l den murmured.
    Eli
clenched his fists twice. “Why?”
    He
knew the answer, but he needed to hear it.
    “I
just had to know,” Ca l den said blankly. “I needed to know how long I could
function .”
    Eli
snorted. “I don’t call this functioning, Ca l den. You’ve been seeing her for days, haven’t you?”
    Ca l den was silent
for so long that Eli thought he’d fallen asleep.
    “I
could ignore her at first,” he finally said. “I knew she wasn’t there. But then.
I miss her. I wanted her to be there, even when she said horrible things.”
    “And
because you wanted her there, you couldn’t ignore her anymore,” Eli finished
for him. “And you still didn’t think to yourself, ‘hey, maybe I should stop
pretending and actually