by Tara Sivec
He’d always kept his face cleanly shaven, and after years of hanging around Aiden, who shaved every day, I started to think I must have a thing for men who had a smooth face. Until now. Everett’s facial hair coming down from his sideburns, making a trail down his cheeks and covering his chin and around his mouth, is short and neatly groomed, and dammit if it doesn’t make him hotter.
That thought suddenly makes the tears in my eyes dry up and all the emotion I felt at seeing him again for the first time in years vanish in the blink of an eye. How dare he just show up here after all this time after not one word in almost five years. How dare he go from being one of the most important people in my life to someone who threw me away and never looked back. Who couldn’t even be bothered to reach out to me when our best fucking friend died.
I resist the urge to close the distance between us and throw myself in his arms, dying to feel the heat from his body and the beat of his heart against my own, reassuring me that he’s real.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
His lips twitch with the urge to smile, and my anger that he thinks anything about this is funny pisses me off even more. He has no right to show up out of nowhere, at my camp, thinking we can just pick up where we left off.
“It’s good to see you, too, Cam. You’ve got hay in your hair,” he tells me in a soft voice, the corner of his mouth tipping up in a half smile when he says the same thing he used to say to me all the time when we were younger. It makes my insides feel all mushy, which makes me want to throw my fist through something.
Like his stupid, hot face.
I hate that his use of my nickname turns me to jelly no matter how mad I am at him, but I refuse to let him see that he has any kind of effect on me. I lock my knees even tighter when he takes a few steps in my direction until he’s standing so close to me, I can smell his light, woodsy cologne. Of course he’s wearing the same damn cologne he’s worn since we were teenagers and I first bought him a bottle of the stuff for Christmas one year, and I liked the way it smelled on him so much, I got him one every year. I’m so flustered and confused with everything I’m feeling right now that I let my anger take over and drive this bus of emotional exhaustion instead of collapsing at his feet in a puddle of tears.
“Jesus, you look good. I missed you so damn much.”
That’s it. That does it. Any hope of calming myself down and acting like an adult goes right out the window when he says those words.
My hand flies up from down by my side, and before I can stop myself, my palm slaps against his cheek so hard I’ll be feeling the sting of it for a week. His head jerks to the side with the force of my smack and he keeps it turned away from me as I slowly lower my hand, panting with furious breaths.
“Don’t you dare say something like that to me,” I tell him through clenched teeth, squeezing my hands into fists down by my side before I hit him again, with a punch to the nose this time. “You’re the one who decided to ignore me for almost five fucking years. You have no right to come here and say that to me.”
He closes his eyes and sighs, turning his head back to face me before opening them again, and it almost takes my breath away. I can see the pain, the sorrow, the hurt, and the misery shining right back at me, mirroring everything I’m feeling inside, but I’m not about to go easy on him now. He hurt me deeper than any person in my life has ever done before. He broke my heart and he left me behind. I will never forgive him for that.
“I know. I know and I’m so fucking sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am.”
His eyes plead with me to understand, but I don’t. I can’t. I’ve spent all these years wondering what I did wrong and wishing I could fix it. All these damn wasted years where I couldn’t let him go and couldn’t move on. And I’ve spent the last nine months mourning our best friend alone, without him.
“I don’t give a shit how sorry you are. You should have been here. You and your fancy fucking medical degree, out saving people you didn’t even know. Aiden needed you. I needed you and you weren’t here. I mourned him alone. I buried him alone. I FUCKING BURIED OUR BEST FRIEND ALONE!” I shout, my voice cracking with tears when I think about Aiden’s funeral.
Even being surrounded by friends and family, their arms around me and their tears falling with mine, I’d never felt more alone than I did standing by Aiden’s grave and watching them lower his casket into the ground. I wasn’t mad at Everett then, because I knew he was probably in some remote area of the world where he couldn’t just drop everything and leave. I forgave him for not being at the funeral and a part of me feels horrible for throwing that at him now, when he had no control over being there, but I can’t help it.
Even though he didn’t find out until it was too late, I know from Jason that he still found out a few weeks after Aiden died. But he never came home then. He never called me. He never e-mailed. He never did ANYTHING. All those years I spent being his friend and the one time I needed him, he wasn’t there. Someone was always with me, day and night for weeks after Aiden’s death, but I’d never felt more lost than I had during that time, because Everett wasn’t there. My parents and Amelia have done everything they could to pull me out of my funk for the last nine months, but nothing worked because Everett wasn’t here. He was the only other person in the world who would have understood what I was feeling, but he wasn’t here. And now that he is here, I hate him for thinking he can make everything better with an apology. Words can’t heal the scars that his actions left behind.
“Cameron, Cameron, are you there?”
The squawk of the radio attached to the waist of my jeans stops me from screaming at Everett again. With my angry eyes still locked on to his sorrowful ones, I snatch the radio from by my hip, bring it up to my mouth, and press the button to talk.
“Amelia, I’m a little busy here. I’ll be up to the main house in a few minutes.”
Everett moves closer to me as I reattach the radio to my jeans. I’m so wrapped up in my sadness and anger, wanting him to feel all of the hurt that’s lived inside of me without him, and distracted by Amelia radioing me, that I don’t realize he’s touching me until it’s too late. His arms are sliding around my waist and my brain wakes up right before he pulls me toward him.
I take a step back from him so quickly that my feet tangle together and I almost trip, steadying myself at the last second before I go down. Everett looks more shocked that I wouldn’t let him touch me than he did when I smacked him across the face. What the hell does he expect? Ever since I was thirteen, I dreamed about him wrapping his arms around me and holding me close, pulling me into his chest so I could rest my cheek against it and feel the thudding of his heart against the side of my face. I dreamed about it, fantasized about it, wished for it…and all I ever got were side-armed hugs and the casual fling of his arm around my shoulder if I was lucky. I learned my lesson a long time ago that loving Everett did nothing but cause me pain, and I’ll be damned if I get sucked down into that rabbit hole again.
“I’m sorry,” Everett says again, sighing in frustration as he runs his fingers through the short hair on top of his head, nervously shifting from one foot to the other.
I’m not sure if he’s still apologizing for being a shitty friend, or for his attempt to put his hands on me, and I don’t care.
He brings his hand down from his head to rub his palm against the side of his face where I smacked him, and I open my mouth to apologize, but quickly clamp it closed when I remember he deserved it. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m not this person. I don’t go around smacking people, and I hate Everett a little bit more that he’s turned me into this kind of woman who throws a fit out in the open for all to see.
“Aiden was right. You have developed a mean right hook over the years.”
His attempt to get me to smile falls flat. Bringing up Aiden’s name and reminding me that the two of them remained in contact over the years he was gone when I was left in the dust makes my heart crack into a thousand pieces.
“Screw you,” I whisper, swallowing thickly a few times to stop the burning pain in my throat from the need to cry.
I will not cry in front of this man. I will not let him see just how weak he makes me feel.
“Cam…”
He takes a step in my direction but pauses when my radio crackles to life with Amelia’s voice again, high-pitched and screaming this time.
“CAMERON! SOS! YOU HAVE TO—”
With an irritated growl, my hand goes to my hip and I quickly turn the dial for sound until it clicks off. I take a deep, calming breath before addressing Everett for the last time.
“I don’t need you here. I don’t want you here. Go home, and leave me alone. You had almost five years of practice doing just that. It should be pretty easy for you to pick up where you left off.”
Refusing to look at him anymore before I do something stupid like launch myself into his arms and apologize for being such a bitch, I hold my head up high and walk around him.
I was always a sucker when it came to Everett Southerland and I’ll be damned if I fall back into the same old patterns just because he’s suddenly decided to walk back into my life.
Chapter 8
Cameron
Wishing in the past…
Fifteen years old
Happy birthday, kid! We still on for seven o’clock tonight?” Aiden asks, mussing up my hair as he rushes by me, turning to walk backward as he makes his way to class.
“Stop messing up my hair! And yes, seven. Don’t forget the snacks!” I shout after him as the warning bell rings, kids start moving faster down the hall, and lockers slam closed.
He gives me a salute before turning around and running through the sea of students.
“Is he still dating Michelle Lanford? I heard they broke up. Do you think he’d say yes if I asked him out?”
My head turns to the side as I close my locker to see a girl standing next to me with a dreamy look on her face as she stares after Aiden.
“Yeah, they broke up last week. Doesn’t hurt to ask,” I tell her with a shrug, hefting my stack of books up higher in my arms as she thanks me and goes running in Aiden’s direction.
Shaking my head, I start walking down the hall to algebra class when my books are suddenly snatched out of my arms. I look up to find a smiling Everett staring down at me, and my stomach flops as he tucks my books under his arms and walks me to class.
“Happy birthday, Cam. How does it feel to be fifteen?” he asks, bumping his shoulder against mine.
I nervously reach up and twirl a lock of my hair between my fingers, forcing myself not to giggle.
“Like I’m too young to drive and too old to play with Barbies.”
Jesus, Cameron. Barbies? Really? Way to make him try and see you as a woman instead of a little girl. Real smooth.
Everett just smiles at me, pausing by the algebra room door and handing my books back to me. He puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me against his side for exactly three seconds before dropping his arm and moving away.
“Have a good day. See you at the treehouse tonight,” he tells me with a wave.
I stand in the doorway watching him walk down the hall and let out a long sigh.
“He’s so hot. I can’t believe you’re friends with him,” Allison Brantley says, stopping in the doorway next to me to stare after Everett.
Allison Brantley has had a crush on Everett since the beginning of the school year and has flirted shamelessly with him. She lost her virginity a month ago to Alex Conrad, a senior and a football player who’s friends with Everett. Ever since then, she thought she was hot shit and she’d upped her flirting game with Everett and it made me want to puke. SHE’D never talked about Barbies in front of him.
“I’m gonna ask him out tonight at lunch.”
My head whips in her direction and I can’t stop the scowl that takes over my face. I hate Allison Brantley.
“He doesn’t date skanks,” I inform her, ignoring the pissed-off look on her face as I shoulder past her and into the room to take my seat.
No matter how rude my statement was, Allison would never argue with me or make a scene, because she knows I have the upper hand. Just like every other girl in this school when it comes to my two best friends. Maybe that makes me a total bitch, but I don’t care. Every girl here knows if they piss me off, they’ll never have a shot with Aiden or Everett. Well, maybe not Aiden. He’d date anything with a vagina, no matter how skanky or pathetic she was. But not Everett. Everett listened to me when I gave my opinion on the girls he dated, even though just the fact that he went on dates with other girls made me sick to my stomach. That thought gives me pause as I set my books on top of my desk, not hearing a word the teacher says when he walks into the room. Why DOES Everett always do what I say, when Aiden always does the exact opposite? Does he really value my opinion? Does he know I have a crush on him and he’s just doing it not to embarrass me? Oh, my God, please don’t let that be it. I hope he just listens to me because I’m his friend and I’m a girl, therefore I know how other girls think.
Besides I wasn’t a complete jerk, even though I wanted to be. I didn’t put my foot down with everyone. Just the girls I thought had potential to steal his heart. I learned how to be okay with Everett dating other girls, as long as they weren’t “happily ever after” material. It’s not like I thought Everett would fall madly in love with Allison and run off and marry her, but it’s my birthday, dammit. Nothing is going to ruin this day, especially not Allison Brantley and her giant boobs, skinny waist, long legs, and missing virginity.
* * *
“Stop laughing at me. I am totally your pimp.”
Aiden ignores my order, laughing so hard he has to wipe the tears from his eyes.
“The struggle is real. ‘Do you think Aiden likes me?’ ‘Do you think Everett will ask me out?’” I say in a high-pitch, annoying voice. “I am your pimp, letting the female population know when you’re free for a new hook-up. It’s disgusting. I should start charging both of you.”
I bring the bottle of beer up to my mouth and take another drink, realizing quickly how drunk I am when half of it dribbles down my chin instead of going into my mouth.
Everett takes the bottle out of my hand, using the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe the beer from my face. I don’t even realize I’ve stopped breathing until he moves his arm away and smiles at me.
Aiden decided Grape Crush wasn’t enough for us this year, and brought along a case of beer with his usual provisions. At eighteen, Aiden and Everett have both had plenty of opportunities to drink when they hang out with friends their own age, but I never have. I thought it was the perfect way to show Everett that I’m not a little girl anymore, but somewhere after my third bottle, things got a little hazy and I started slurring my words, talking about pimps like a complete idiot. This is why he’s always dating skanks. Because I’m just a little girl who can’t hold her liquor, and those skanks are women who probably can.
At least I’m not talking about Barbies anymore, so I have that going for me.
“I think you’ve had enough,” Everett tells me, looking away to set the bottle on the other side of his legs.
Everett and I are sitting side by side, our legs straight out in front of us, and Aiden is sitting cross-legged across from us. I stare at Everett’s profile when he leans forward, busying himself collecting all the empties, clinking the bottles together as he pushes them into a cluster on the floor of the treehouse. I want to reach over and rest my palm against the side of his strong jaw, say something to make him smile so one of his dimples pops out and I can lean in and kiss it.
“You’re such a buzz kill, Ev,” Aiden jokes, finishing off his beer and setting it down next to the empties Everett just collected. “It’s her birthday, she can get drunk if she wants to!”
When Everett leans back and puts his hands on the floor behind him, he sprawls his legs out and his thigh brushes up against mine. My heart starts hammering in
my chest, and for the first time since I was seven years old, I wish Aiden wasn’t here with us.
I hate that that thought is going through my mind. I love Aiden, but right now, I just want to be alone with Everett. I want to move closer to him until our shoulders are touching, I want him to look down at me and smile, I want him to brush my hair over my shoulder like I’ve seen him do with girls he’s dated, I want him to look at me and really see me. As a woman and not as his best friend.
“Good thing you already wrote down your wish and put it in your box; otherwise I might have had to help you and I would have seen what you wished for,” Everett says, giving me a wink.
I was kind of grateful for that, too, until just now. If he’d helped me write my wish, he would know how I feel. It would be out in the open and I wouldn’t have to keep pretending anymore. I’m so tired of pretending. I’m so tired of wanting something I feel like I’ll never have, no matter how much I wish for it, no matter how hard I try to prove to Everett that I’m not a little girl anymore and I can make him happier than any of those slutty girls at school.
“Aiden! Are you almost done? I’m bored!” a voice shouts from outside, down at the base of the treehouse.
“Oh, my God. Did you seriously bring a date to my birthday party?” I complain, glaring at Aiden while Everett chuckles and shakes his head at him.
“Hey, it’s not my fault I’m irresistible and my social calendar is full. And besides, it’s not like I brought her up here. I made her wait for me down below, like a gentleman. You can’t be pissed at me, kid,” Aiden explains with a smirk.
I roll my eyes at him, but the action makes the room spin and I wave my hand at him, concentrating as hard as I can on not throwing up.
“Go. Go be with your skank.”
