“What’s going on?” She dropped the extinguisher.
I would have flinched if I could. But all I could manage was to turn my eyes away from her, to the smoldering pile of stupidity that I thought made me okay. “I’m fine,” I repeated. I needed her to believe it was true. “I’m fine.”
“It’s okay, Cam. It’s okay.” But it wasn’t okay. I had failed her. And now she had failed. And now we were two failures in a town house garage, trying to bury the lie that we weren’t. I could hear her moving very slowly toward me. My insides clenched tighter, wanting to hide what she could never see. She reached out and said, “And it’s okay if it’s not okay, honey,” and put her hand on my shoulder.
It was hardly there, but even its delicate touch sent fissures through my stone facade, shattering it. My stomach uncoiled. The brace on my legs snapped. My chest swelled. Tears streamed from my eyes. I was unable to hold it back any longer.
The truth.
“I’m not fine.”
It took a few minutes, a box of tissues, and a round of warm hugs for me to finally breath normally again. As I curled on the couch, a weird buzz tingled through my muscles. With a crusty nose and blotted eyes, I finished telling my mom the whole damn story. “. . . I sat through the entire interview like an asshole. And now Kaia thinks I’m the good guy and she doesn’t even know Steve’s cancer isn’t getting better. It’s all my fault. God, you must hate me.”
“Hate you? Why do you think I would hate you? Nothing you could ever do would make me hate you.”
“Are you serious?” I wiped my nose again and looked at her. “There’s a million things I could do to make you hate me. I hear it every time I walk past you when the news is on.”
“Oh, come on.” She grimaced in disbelief. “You know I’m kidding about that.”
“Are you?” I felt a wave of anger rear up. “Because you don’t sound like you’re joking. And don’t get me started about Dad.”
She recoiled, confused. “What’s that asshole got to do with this?”
“That’s it. That’s exactly the problem! You’re always calling him an asshole. Telling me how terrible he is.”
“I’m doing that to make you feel better. I didn’t want you to be sad he wasn’t around.”
“Yeah, well. It worked. I don’t care that he’s not around. But I’m also terrified I’ll end up like him.”
“Oh, come on.” She laughed the idea off. “You could never end up like him.”
“And what if I did? Would you disown me?” I watched as the thought of it played out in her eyes—her son, the deadbeat asshole.
And she hesitated.
I sat up and pointed at her, at the truth she had let slip. “See! See!” I felt tears returning and I needed to get the words out fast. “You have to think about it?! How do you think that makes me feel? Like at any minute you would . . .” and then the tears caught up and I couldn’t finish.
She sat forward as if to catch me. “No. No. No. No . . . Never, Cam. Sweetheart.” Regret rattled her voice. “Shit. Shit. What did I do . . . I’m sorry . . .” And now her eyes began to well up. “I’m just trying so hard to do this right and . . .”
“I know you are . . .” I didn’t want her to cry, too. I didn’t want either of us to cry. Still, I had to get it out now. “But all that pressure to be the best, all the time, to never mess up—”
“God, I pushed you too hard.” She sounded so angry at herself.
“And I know you wouldn’t disown me, but I’m so tired of being scared all the time. I’m so scared . . .” I looked away and felt the emptiness rearing up to swallow me.
“Oh, Cam. No . . .” She grabbed my hand and sat close, so close, like when I was little. When I had let her get that close and comfort me. “Are you scared that I don’t love you?”
I didn’t say anything. Because I didn’t know how to say the whole of it.
“Cam . . . ,” she pleaded.
“Not just you,” I said, my voice fragile.
“Who? Kaia? Steve?”
I held it in for one last moment and then, finally, let it go.
“Anyone.”
I could swear I heard my mom’s heart break.
“Oh, Cam . . . ,” she said, and hugged me tight. “Everyone’s not your father.”
“I know. I know. And it doesn’t make it any better.” In fact, it made it worse. Because it reduced me to something so small. A person who couldn’t get over his father. A person who was nothing, just a little kid who believed he wasn’t worth hanging around for. And now, thanks to Dad, that void roared to life with every possible rejection, with every opportunity to change the story. Now that was all I was. A stupid, broken victim. A walking void. As I started to fall back into it myself, another wave of despair crashed down.
“I’m the wors—” I started to say through the tears.
But something stopped me. A voice (or two) in my head. I couldn’t keep doing this. It took some effort, but I finally found the words to accurately describe how I felt. “I think I’m a little fucked up.” It came out sounding like a joke, and my mom laughed. I wiped away tears and laughed as well.
“Oh, Cam. Even if you’re ‘a little fucked up’ right now, you’re still the best kid anyone could ever want.” I normally cringed at those words, but today they weren’t so bad.
“And you’re still the best mom, even though you are a little fucked up, too.”
She smiled and shook her head. “You have no idea.” She gave me a noogie and I squirmed away.
Then I sighed once more, letting as much go as I could in one breath. Fuck, that was a lot. Just because I couldn’t ask a girl out.
“God, I should never have done any of this.”
But my mom took my hand. “Hey, listen . . . ,” she started, but then dropped her voice to make something very clear. “And don’t mistake this for me approving or condoning anything, but . . .” She squeezed my hand. “You weren’t happy. You were busy, but I never saw you with friends your age. You know? And you need people. More than just your annoying mother.” I nodded and she continued, “It may have been the wrong solution to the problem, but . . . at least you know what the problem is now.”
“Yeah. I think so,” I said. At least, I hoped I did.
“And if some dumb girl or guy doesn’t like you? Fuck them. They are not your father, right?”
“Right,” I said. “But I still need to fix this, if I can. Steve and Kaia should be together. The only reason they aren’t is because of me. He broke up with her to protect her from having to see him in pain. If that isn’t an act of love, I don’t know what is.”
“That does sound stupidly romantic. Totally misguided, and he should respect Kaia enough to let her judge for herself, but, yeah, sounds like they deserve a chance.”
I stood up, a new urgency pumping through me.
“And if it doesn’t work out and everything is messed up and you can’t fix it . . .” My mom paused and waited, until I turned to listen. “I’ll still love you.”
“Thanks.” We exchanged a moment of understanding. I headed for the door but then stopped, wanting to get one last thing off my chest. “Mom . . .” She leaned in, ready to say yes to anything. “You’ve got to stop moisturizing my elbows at night.”
She put up her hands, offended. “I don’t—”
“Mom.”
“I don’t—”
“They’re unnaturally soft!”
“They’re perfect!” I raised my eyebrows at her. “Fine.” I waited. “I’ll stop.” I crossed my arms. She rolled her eyes. “I’ll stop! Okay?”
“Good.” I turned and opened the door.
As I left, she called out, “But seriously, Cam . . . lotion! Every night. I put a lot of work into those things and I’m not seeing my masterpiece destroyed.”
19
I was already texting Kaia as I hurried to my car.
Me: You around? Need to talk.
There wasn’t an answer by the time I’d buckled up and turne
d on the car. Not wanting to wait, I called her number. The phone rang a few times and then went to voicemail.
“Kaia? It’s Cam. Um, can you give me a call? It’s important.” I hung up. I couldn’t exactly say “I’m responsible for your boyfriend breaking up with you. Also, you should talk to Steve because he might be dying” in a voicemail. Maybe I could go find her? But it was the middle of the day. She could be anywhere. Her house, setting up for prom at the Radisson, getting her hair done, squeezing in some extra time at the food bank—it was Kaia; with her schedule, there was no way to know. And I couldn’t just drive over to her house and ask her parents, because, I realized, I didn’t know her address. We’d always been at Steve’s.
Steve. At least I knew where he lived. And as far as I could tell, he pretty much never left. I thumbed out a text to Steve and threw the car into reverse. It might actually be better this way. I could apologize to him and then we could explain things to Kaia, together.
There was no response from Steve by the time I pulled up to his house. I leaped up the stairs to his front door and hit the doorbell. It was only after I heard the ring echo through the foyer that it occurred to me: Steve might not want to hear my apology. There might be a reason he hadn’t answered my text. There was a very good chance Steve hated me and never wanted to see me again. But then the door swung open. I squeezed my eyes shut in reflex, bracing for Steve to yell. I wouldn’t even blame him for a punch. I kind of deserved it.
But there was no fist to my face. There was a hug. A really manly hug.
“Cam! My boy!” My eyes flew open as Steve’s dad crushed me in his arms. I could smell beer.
“Mr. Stevenson,” I choked out. “Hi.” He released me and I stumbled back a step. “Um, it’s nice to see you. Is Steve around?”
“He’s not here, bud. Left to get Kaia a while back. You’re lookin’ sharp in your tux, though.” He made guns with his fingers and shot me. Now that I wasn’t being anaconda’d, I could see that his eyes were a little bleary.
“To get Kaia?” I repeated, not sure I’d heard right.
“She’s something else, right? My boy landed the hottest chick in class.” I nodded uncomfortably, meanwhile thinking there was no way Steve had left to get Kaia. Not with the way they’d left things. But if he wasn’t home, where was he? “And you!” he continued. “Steve told me about the other night. Three college girls! That’s my man.” He held out a fist and waited. I realized he wasn’t putting it down until I tapped it. I rapped my knuckles weakly against his. He grinned. “Steve said you’ve been a really great friend through all of this.”
“He did?” That hurt a lot. It was too easy to picture Steve sitting at the dinner table, his bald head shining under those giant chandeliers, telling his family over forkfuls of lasagna that I was his friend. Oh god, I had screwed things up so bad.
Steve’s dad must have read something in my expression, because his eyes got watery. “Yeah. Glad you’re around.” He tried to hide a sniff. “I’m sure he told you, but shit went a little sideways this week.”
Sideways.
Oh no.
Steve’s dad kept talking for a moment. I must have responded, because he nodded. Then with a final fist bump, he shut the door.
Sideways.
It was just a turn of phrase. It didn’t mean . . . Steve wouldn’t . . .
I started driving. My phone rang. It was Kaia. She was probably calling to say she and Steve had made up. That’s why she hadn’t answered before. They’d been too busy making out and talking about what a jerk I was, and I didn’t care because Steve was fine.
“Hello?”
“Cam? Just got your message. I’m in the middle of setting up. Purple balloons showed up instead of aqua. People are freaking out.”
“Is Steve with you?” He was. Right? Putting up balloons. That seemed like a totally Steve thing to do.
“What?”
“Is Steve with you?”
“Sorry! Can’t hear you! Reception is terrible! Text me.”
One hand on the steering wheel, I tapped out:
Me: Steve with u?
I’d barely pressed send when Kaia’s response buzzed back. And then kept buzzing.
Kaia: Fuck no! That cheating ballsack!
Kaia: He on his way here?
Kaia: Assbooger is not trying to apologize is he?
Kaia: Do I need a restraining order?
Kaia: Maybe just a bat?
Me: Np
Me: *No!
I pulled over to the side of the road.
Kaia: He should have got cancer in his junk. Anyway, if it’s not about my loser ex, why’d you call?
I stared at my phone. Should I do this over text? Where did I start? Before I could decide which disastrous piece of news to lead with, my phone buzzed again.
Kaia: Sorry. Can this wait till tonight? It’s crazy here. Gotta go. Aqua balloons arrived.
“Oh god!” I slammed my head against the headrest. Steve wasn’t with Kaia. That meant . . . that meant he might . . . he could have . . . Picking up my phone, I typed:
Me: Steve. Call me. I will do anything to make this right.
Please let him respond.
Please let me be wrong.
Please don’t let it be too late.
My text sat at the bottom of the screen. I waited. I closed my eyes and counted to ten, then looked again. Nothing. I closed them again. He was going to respond. He was. I opened my eyes.
There was a little bubble and three dots at the bottom of the screen. My heart started to beat again. I’d been panicking over nothing.
Steve: You can’t always save the shark.
And then a photo of the aquarium.
No.
No no no no no no no no no no no no no no.
I was still miles away from the aquarium.
But I could get there.
I had to.
The engine of the Prius whined in protest as I weaved in and out of traffic, my phone propped against the steering wheel.
Me: Steve. Do not do this.
Me: Steve. Listen to me.
Me: Steve!
Three dots popped up on the screen, and I breathed easier for a moment knowing he was still on the other side, but then they eventually disappeared.
Shit. I called his number. It went straight to voicemail.
“Steve! You stay away from that shark! You stay away.” I clicked off and punched on the gas just in time to sail through a yellow light. I was almost there.
I needed to call Steve’s parents. Scrolling through my phone, I searched for any sort of contact info. Finally, I found his dad’s email and typed out a quick message telling them to come to the aquarium and that Steve needed help.
I could see the entrance to the parking lot of the aqua park up ahead, blue and yellow flags fluttering in the breeze. A cheerful cartoon dolphin helpfully pointed the way with his fin. Yanking on the wheel, I made a hard left and turned in, ignoring the angry blast of a horn as another driver had to swerve out of my way.
It was late enough in the day that the parking lot was clearing out. Parents dragged sticky, sugared-up children back to their cars, defeated and exhausted by a day of fun. I took the first open spot I could find and jumped out of the car, pounding across the vast expanse of asphalt toward the entrance. The archway, made to look like a giant wave with happy sea creatures cavorting in it, seemed impossibly far away. My stupid shiny patent leather shoes that came with my tux skidded every time I tried to pick up speed, their slick soles providing no traction.
Finally, I made it to the wide paved entrance with its trio of ticket booths and giant clamshell fountain squirting water into the air. There was only one worker slumped by the turnstiles, her aqua park baseball cap pulled low over her eyes.
“Cam?”
I whipped my head around but didn’t stop running. Todd, Patrice, and a handful of protesters were camped near the edge of the entrance where the aqua park property ended and became public beach acc
ess again, battered signs at their feet. They’d been out here nearly every day since the city council meeting, though recently fewer and fewer people were showing up. Todd waved, eyes hopeful. “Cam! You joining us?”
“No,” I panted. “Got to save him.”
I turned my attention to the turnstile and picked up speed, even as I heard Todd’s confused shouts. The park worker snoozed on, her chin tucked on her chest. I judged the height of the metal bars. Yeah. I could do it. With one final burst of speed I ran forward, slamming my hand onto the silver metal column for leverage and twisting my body to the side, flying up and over the turnstile. I landed with a thud, nearly losing my balance as my shoes slipped on the pavement.
“Hey!” The aqua park worker startled awake, but I was already running. Behind me I could hear Todd’s and Patrice’s surprised cheers.
The light was fading as I ran deeper into the park, the shadows slicing across the wide manicured paths. I passed signs for sea lion tanks and jellyfish exhibits, gift shops with stuffed dolphins in the window, and snack stands promising penguin pops and fish-shaped fries. A few janitorial workers looked up in surprise as I thundered past.
I followed the signs to the shark exhibit, a cartoon shark with bloody teeth pointing the way, still burning with rage each time I passed one. Finally, I reached the tank. It looked even bigger than I remembered, a wide glassy pool that seamlessly blended into the ocean beyond, the only obvious thing separating the two a discreet row of buoys far in the distance. I could hear the quiet hum of the generator that filtered impurities out of the ocean water but kept the pen at the correct salination point. I scanned the amphitheater. With the sun inching toward the horizon and reflecting off the gently rippling water, it was hard to see through the glare, but even so, there was no sign of Steve.
I stood for a moment, too scared to move. I’d thought for sure once I’d rounded the corner, I’d find him standing by the pool—and in my most panicked moments, about to jump in. But there was nothing. Just the lapping water. I edged closer to the tank and looked over the ledge. There was murky green ocean, some algae, and not much else.
“Steve?” I called. There was no answer. Was I too late? I couldn’t be. There’d be some sign, some evidence, something to show what had happened. Not just this shining, placid nothingness.
Save Steve Page 20
