I turn onto my side and stare at the rain hitting the window pane. The weather is about as good as my mood right now. I should feel good – after the doctor gave me a clean bill of health, I moved out to live in an apartment of my own. My mom had a hard time with it, but I really needed some privacy and I was happy to finally be self-sufficient. For the first time in my life, I was deciding things on my own.
The sound of the doorbell shakes me from my reverie. I glance at my watch, wondering who would call at this hour and risk venturing out in this horrible weather. But when the bell rings again, I rush downstairs to open up. I don’t know who I was expecting, exactly, but when Camille turns out to be on my doorstep, soaked to the bone because of the rain, she takes me completely by surprise.
To be quite honest, I don’t feel like seeing her. Not yet. I’m not ready. But once look at her sad face makes it clear to me that she hasn’t come to me to share good news. So I do the decent thing: I open the door wider and let her in.
* * *
From the open kitchen I watch Camille sitting on the couch. She’s still shivering and huddles down in the blanket I gave to her. I take the two mugs of coffee from the Senseo machine and walk over to her. She reaches out for one of the cups and gives me a smal, grateful smile before warming her hands on the hot mug, staring unseeingly at the steam rising up from the liquid. We sit there for a while, the silence between us stretching. I still don’t have the faintest clue why she is here and I’m feeling increasingly awkward.
“Why are you here, Camille?” I finally break the silence.
Her sad eyes find mine.
“I’m so sorry, Vincent. I never wanted this.”
Her statement is followed by more silence. What the hell am I supposed to say – that it’s all okay? It’s not. Both Camille and I know it. It still hurts me every second of every day, but I can also see that it’s tearing her apart.
“We can’t change what happened, Camille. But why are you here now? What do you want from me?”
A pained laugh escapes her lips.
“I know you’re the last one I should be asking a favor of,” she says in a weak voice. “But I literally have no one else to ask and I need help.”
My heart contracts at the pain that is evident in her voice. Even though she fully realizes I should be the last person to turn to, she still came to me. That makes it clear just how much trouble she is in. And no matter how angry I am at her, this is still Camille. She has a place in my heart. I already know now that I will help her if I can.
I get up from my seat and sit down next to Camille on the couch. I take the mug from her hands and put it down on the coffee table. She glances down and away, unwilling to look at me, so I slip my finger under her chin and force her to look at me.
“Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
Present day
Jonathan
The voice of Tim, our bass player, shakes me from my daydream.
“You got a date for tonight?” he asks.
We’re in the Full Moon van with the entire band, riding it back to the hotel. My eyes open slowly while I consider Tim’s question. Last night’s party and the lack of sleep haven’t been kind to me. Even this morning’s jogging session didn’t manage to fully wake me up. We just did an interview with a local radio station and all I want to do is hit the sack and catch up on some sleep. I really don’t feel like attending tonight, and Tim’s question just reminded me of our duties.
“Nah, I don’t think I’ll come. I know it’s for a good cause, but...”
Joe hears my comment and turns around in the seat in front of me. “Jonathan, I know you don’t feel like going to the charity ball, but you have to. You owe it to the band.”
“I don’t think you understand, Joe. That charity ball reminds me of Camille way too much. Chances are she’ll be there too, and believe me, it would not be good for our reputation if I bumped into her there.”
Anger flashes across Joe’s face. “It’s high time you forgot about that woman,” he hisses. “It’s been what, five years? Get over it, man.”
This is what happens every time I bring her up. Joe always gets into a huff when I mention her and I have to suffer the consequences of his irritation. He simply can’t understand how much Camille meant to me. He doesn’t know what it feels like when the person you trust most in the whole world stabs you in the back like that.
Sure, those first few months we were abroad I screwed up: I drank too much, was always late for band practice, concerts even... but I managed to get my act together after a tough-love conversation with Max, our lead singer. That’s when I realized Full Moon was my life, and I didn’t want to lose the band for anything. Ever since that day, I dutifully performed all my tasks. That doesn’t mean I forgot about Camille just like that, though. My memories of her aren’t a TV show I can switch on or off at the flick of a switch.
“I don’t give a fuck what you think,” I growl.
Joe leans in so close that his nose almost touches mine. “Now you listen to me, Sticks, and listen close,” he snaps. “You are going to the charity dinner, no matter what. Even if I have to personally drag you in. Is that clear?”
He turns around before I even answer and stares stonily in front of hem. Looks like there’s no way out of that charity ball for me. Every muscle in my body hurts, I’m wrecked and my mood just plummeted below zero. Why can’t I stop thinking about her? After everything she did to me she doesn’t deserve one more second of my contemplation, and yet I can’t get her out of my head. I can’t even close my eyes for one moment before I conjure up an image of a naked Camille, lying in my bed, waiting for me.
If I tasted her now, would she still be as sweet? Or has she changed like I did? What would it feel like to slowly penetrate her, hear my name tumble off her lips when she comes for me?
Fuck – I have to focus on the here and now. The last thing I need is a raging hard-on while I’m on the bus with my fellow band members.
To make things worse, I have no way of getting out of my duties. Our manager, Joe, thinks it’s the ideal way to reintroduce ourselves to potential sponsors in Belgium. I seriously don’t know if I can bring myself to go in there. Memories of the previous charity event haunt me – memories of her. Camille is the reason I was so reluctant to come back to Belgium. So many places here remind me of her. Memories of the things we did together cling to every single thing here. Things I thought meant something to both of us, but clearly I was wrong. I blindly trusted Camille. Well, I won’t make the same mistake again. My hands turn clammy and it’s a heavy weight presses down on my chest. I’m gonna have to face my demons; I can’t keep running away from the past. The moment will come when I run into Camille again. Belgium isn’t big enough for the two of us not to meet at some point.
How will I react when that happens?
I have no fucking clue.
Our first concert we’re playing back home is scheduled for next week and it’ll take place in the same music hall where it all started. Let’s just say I’m not looking forward to it. I do look forward to the concert, of course, because if there is one thing that will never change, it’s my love for music, for playing the drums. Focusing on my music has helped me get through these tough times. But that music hall... it’s the venue where Camille tumbled into my arms when I freed her from that restroom stall. The place where we got reacquainted after the childhood we spent together.
* * *
When the van stops in front of the hotel, I’m the first one to get out. I need a drink, right fucking now. More than one, in fact. I don’t miss a beat and make a beeline for the hotel bar, where the bartender immediately comes toward me after I sit down on a bar stool.
“Something strong, please.”
He smiles at me and turns around to face the bottles with hard liquor. He pours out an amber drink for me and I chuck it down in one go. As I gesture at him to pour me another one, I see Max take a seat next to me. He raises his finger to indicate he
wants the same.
“Still the same ray of effing sunshine you were this morning, I see?”
If there is one thing I can’t use right now, it’s being preached to by Max. He means well, I know that, but I’m not in the mood to hear him complain about my attitude.
“If you decided to sit down here to tell me off, I suggest you think twice, Max.”
“I’m not here to tell you off, Sticks.” He takes a sip of his drink and turns toward me. “But you’re not the only one who’s having a hard time. Keep that in mind.”
Just what is Max going on about? I don’t like people being vague on purpose, so I put down my glass with a loud clunk.
“My dad was diagnosed with cancer,” Max continues. “We’ve known for a while, but my dad didn’t want the other band members to know.”
Max finishes his drink too. We sit there in silence for a while, staring into our empty glasses. Maybe he’s right – I could be worse off. Being backstabbed by the woman who you thought was the love of your life isn’t the end of the world. My problems suddenly seem so small compared to what Max is coping with.
“I’m sorry,” I finally say.
Max shrugs a bit non-committally. “So far, so good. Treatment is going according to schedule. I told him to come home, but he won’t hear of it. He doesn’t want to be a burden to me and my sister,” he sighs. “What I really came to say is this, Jon: if you’re still hung up on Camille, if you still have so many questions... why not look her up, demand some answers, then close that chapter of your life? Life’s too short to spend it regretting things you didn’t do.”
I give my friend a piercing look. I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe that’s exactly what I need: closure. Knowing why she did what she did. Why she thought it was necessary to toy with my feelings instead of just asking for help. But what if her answers aren’t the ones I want to hear? Am I ready to face that? There’s only one way of finding out.
I will have to look for Camille and say goodbye to that part of my life once and for all.
“Sounds like a plan.”
Max grins. “Just be a bit more careful this time. I don’t want your heart broken all over again.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Let’s not get sentimental.”
Max’s laugh booms through the bar. “Nah. We’ll leave that to the others.”
I get up from my stool and put some bills on the bar. My expression softens when I look Max in the eye. “You do know we’ll all be there for you if you need us?”
“Duly noted, Sticks. I appreciate it. Now go get some answers.”
With a final pat on his back, I turn around. Get some answers – sounds great, but where to start?
Five Years Ago
Vincent
Camille is still on my couch and stares ahead unseeingly. Then, she looks up and I give her an encouraging nod. I want to know why she came to me of all people. It has to be for a serious reason. I see her puckering up courage. The words she then utters are a complete and total surprise for me.
“I’m pregnant.”
I need a few seconds to process this and recover from the shock. If Camille is pregnant, it means Jonathan will become a father.
“Does he know?”
Camille quietly shakes her head.
Anger flares up within me. I don’t understand a damn thing about her decisions anymore. Why did she push my brother away like that? And why would she keep such important news from him?
“Why didn’t you tell him?” I ask her gruffly.
When Camille looks at me again, I see the agony in her eyes. She lets out a tired sigh. “You think I didn’t try? I know you’re still mad at me, but I thought you knew me better than that. He doesn’t even want to talk to me on the phone anymore when I call him. I left him a message two days ago when his manager answered the phone, but he hasn’t called me back yet. I don’t think he will, frankly.”
I stare at her as though she has grown two heads.
“That’s impossible,” I say decisively.
Camille shrugs. “Believe what you want, but please know that I tried. He doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I can’t blame him after all the drama at the hospital.”
No, I simply can’t believe this. Even though I know seeing us together must have hurt him like hell, I can’t believe Jonathan would turn his back on his own child. Not after what he lived through with our dad.
I put my hand on her leg and squeeze it reassuringly. “Why did you do what you did, Camille? I’ll be honest with you: I’ve been wondering about it for days now. I thought you really cared about Jon.”
“It’s because I care about him so much.”
I shake my head. “You’ll have to be clearer than that.”
And then Camille comes clean about everything: about overhearing Jonathan, him saying he would give up the band for her. The pain in her voice is evident. She didn’t want him to give up his music for her. I can understand that. It’s infinitely sad that she used me in a move to get rid of Jonathan and convince him. That kiss... I can still feel it in my toes when I think of it. I’d been waiting for that kiss my whole life, but in my dreams it had a much happier ending than in real life.
“I’m sorry I used you,” she says, “but it was the only way Jonathan would decide to leave me. You know just as well as I do that he wouldn’t have let me go otherwise.”
I sit and stare at her for a while, taking the time to process what she has just told me. I honestly can’t believe Jonathan wouldn’t care. Sure, he’s probably still livid, but why would you punish a child for what his mother did?
Now that Camille has confessed to me why she kissed me, I understand. Sort of – I don’t agree with her, but I do get why. After all, I was the one who initiated the kiss, so I’m not entirely innocent either.
She looks so fragile, so lost in her upside-down world. The fact that she’s here demonstrates just how shaken she must be. But maybe, just maybe, I can win Camille’s heart by being there for her in these difficult times. After all these years, here is my chance to prove to her that I can take care of her. I have more to offer than just being the little brother of the man she loves. If Jonathan doesn’t want to take responsibility, I’ll make sure I will. I’ll take care of Camille.
I caress her cheek with one hand, then gently press my lips to hers. It startles her, but she does allow me to deepen the kiss. I sweep my tongue over her lips and wait for her to allow me access. Our tongues collide and I taste her unique aroma mixed with the coffee she drank. My hand strokes her cheek, then run down her neck and my fingers get tangled in her hair. I pull her into me as closely as I dare.
When we finally break apart, I rest my forehead against hers.
“We’ll manage. We’ll stick together.”
Present day
Jonathan
I‘ve been sitting here staring into nothingness for over an hour now. I haven’t even tried to find a date for this ball anymore. Admittedly I wouldn’t have had a lot of trouble if I wanted to find someone to accompany me, but the poor girl would have been bored out of her mind with me for company. As for the other boys, they managed to each snag a hot chick. Which is the reason I’m sitting here all by my lonesome right now. The rest of the band is on the dance floor, dancing to a slow, romantic song with their dates.
My gaze skims the crowd and all I see are happy couples with beatific faces and broad smiles. It makes me slightly sick. I probably looked just like that five years ago when I was here with Camille. This is where I saved her from that creep her family wanted her to hook up with. It feels like yesterday, but so much has changed.
And instead of being here with Camille I’m sitting here at this table feeling sorry for myself. Just what I needed to pick myself up. Ever since we got back home I can’t stop thinking about Camille. It’s what I’ve been afraid of. Every place we visit reminds me of her, and that’s the reason I didn’t want to come to this thing. If only I’d told Joe to ‘stick it where the sun don’t shine’.
He’d have been on my case about it for weeks afterwards, but eventually he’d have let it go. All things pass, after all. The only thing that seems to stretch out endlessly is this evening.
I lift my bottle of beer to take a swig and that’s when my gaze lands on a girl walking toward the restrooms. She’s tall and her brown hair is in a tight bun. My eyes trail down the open back of her dress towards her bum. I may be in the blackest of moods, but I’m just a man. A woman like this would catch the eye of any guy. The lady in question not only has a fine ass – her legs are divine, too. Okay, so I decided not to have one night stands anymore as recently as this morning, but I’ll gladly make an exception now. I’m sure that ass will look even better once it’s red and blushing from me slapping it. And those legs look like she can wrap them all the way around me while I’ll be drilling in and out of her, fucking her deep to forget about my painful memories.
As I take another swig of beer, the lady in question looks over her shoulder and I inadvertently spit out my beer, spewing it all over the table. Was that..? No, it can’t be. For a second I’d have sworn it was Camille. Could it be true? The similarities are striking. Maybe I’ve had one beer too many. It can’t possibly be her... right?
I’m sure my own imagination is taking me for a ride. I’ve been thinking about her so much today that any woman bearing even the slighest resemblance to her looks like her to me.
I think back to the conversation I had with Max earlier and decide to find out who she is. There’s only one way to take away my doubts. And besides: what do I have to lose? If it turns out not to be her, then at least it’ll be a fuck to remember.
I set down my beer bottle with a thud and get up to chase her. I manage to tap her on the shoulder just as she wants to slip into the ladies’ room. She turns around and drops her handbag in surprise. The small clutch bursts open and everything spills out.
Say You Need Me Page 2
