by Jay McLean
"What?" My eyes narrow. "What the heck is wrong with you?"
Her shoulders stiffen and her eyes thin to a glare. "Just tell me."
"Tell you what? Why are you so pissed?"
She grips the bottle of wine tighter as Mark takes a seat next to her, rubbing her shoulders to keep her calm. "Why am I pissed?" she seethes. "Maybe because my fifteen-year-old son is about to tell me that he knocked up a girl and has his own sons with her... and he's kept it a secret! When did this happen, Cameron?"
I laugh.
All out laugh.
"This isn't funny!" she yells.
I can't stop laughing.
"Stop laughing!"
I hear her. I do. But I just can't. I can't stop laughing.
She throws a cushion at my head while laughing. And crying.
Women are dumb.
"CAMERON!"
I hold up my finger to tell to her to wait a minute while I try to control myself.
"Is that where you've been every night? Seeing to your kids. Oh my God," she moans, "I'm a grandmother."
And my laughter just gets heavier.
"I'm done!" She stands with the bottle of wine clenched to her chest. "I'm going to go knit, or play bingo, or do whatever it is grandmas do... and you can just sit there and laugh at me."
"I'm sorry," I manage to get out. "But it's absurd."
"What is?"
"I haven't gotten anyone pregnant."
I hear Mark release a breath.
"But yes, she is where I've been every night." I take a few calming breaths until I know my words will come out even. "I'm just helping her out."
She sits down again and places the wine on the coffee table. "What do you mean helping her out? She goes to your school? What boys are you talking about? Where are her parents?"
I suck in a huge breath and try to answer her questions as straight as possible. "Yes, she goes to my school. The boys are her brothers-six of them." Her eyes go huge but she doesn't speak. "Her mom passed away a few weeks ago. Her dad is... unstable. So she just needs some help."
She lets out all the air in her lungs and leans back into the couch. "Okay," she says, then shakes her head slowly. "So you've been going there and what?"
I shrug. "I entertain the boys while she cooks dinner... or whatever. I just help her clean up a bit... get things done. There's a baby, Mom. She's in my class, she's fifteen and she carries the weight of the world. She wakes up, gets them ready for school and her aunt comes during the day to watch the baby while she's in class. But then she goes home and she does it all over again. She doesn't sleep well. And her brother—he told me she gets so sad that it makes her sick. I don't know what it means but I can't not do anything to help. She's alone. She has no one."
Mom wipes at the fallen tears on her cheeks. "I don't know what to say, Cam. I mean... you've always cared too much. Even as a kid you were bringing home strays... but this... this might be too far, even for you. This is someone's life. Someone's family. You take away some of that burden from her and it becomes yours. That's a huge responsibility for a kid your age. Are you sure no one else can help her?"
Her words instantly piss me off. She doesn't need anyone else. She has me. "I just want to help."
She nods slowly, picking up the wine and taking another sip. "We have to talk about this some more. Let me think about—"
"Think about what? I'm not stopping." My tone's defensive. Because even though she's trying to help, I know she's trying to find a way to take Lucy away from me. "You can't stop me from seeing her."
There's shock clear on her face, and I get it. I really do. But she has no idea how much Lucy means to me. And until right now, neither did I.
"Honey, I'm not going to."
"Good." I stand up with a huff. "Because I'm a good kid. You can't deny that. I always do what you ask. I never break the rules and I'm not doing anything wrong."
"I know that, Cameron." She stares up at me with pity in her eyes and I glare down at her. My heart pounds hard against my chest. I'm angry. I'm annoyed. And I'm frustrated because she doesn't understand it. But then again, neither do I.
Then Mark clears his throat. "She's kinda cute, right?"
I can't help the hint of a smile that forms on my face. "I'm going to bed."
"Goodnight," they both say, but I'm already half way up the stairs.
"At some point, you're going to have to start acting like his dad, Mark, not his cool big brother," Mom says quietly.
"Heather, I'll adopt him right now and start acting like a dad if you finally say yes to marrying me."
I chuckle under my breath.
Mom responds, "That's not gonna happen."
"You're breaking my heart, you know that?"
I close my bedroom door and throw myself onto my bed. I'm exhausted. But then I think about Lucy, and how tired she must be, and it doesn’t even compare. Shoving my hand in my pocket, I pull out my phone and bring up her number. I don't even think, I just dial.
"Hello?"
"Lucy?"
"Yeah..."
"Thank you for bringing me my phone. I don't think I said it when you were here."
Silence.
I clear my throat. "It's Cameron."
More silence.
I hang up.
Shit, that was awkward.
My phone vibrates in my hand. Her name flashes on the screen. I stand up and start pacing. The ringing stops. "Shit." I dial her number—busy tone. I try again—same thing. Then mine rings. I answer. "Hello?" I'm so anxious I smash the phone to the side of my face. And then I drop it...
"Hello? Cam?" The sound of her voice through the speakers fills all my senses.
"Hang on!" I yell. "I dropped the phone." I turn in circles rubbing the side of my face and looking for my phone. Where the hell did it go?
"Hello?" she says again.
"Shit."
"Hello?"
I drop to the floor and search for it. It's under my bed. Of course it is. I move the stack of porn hidden there and reach for it. "I dropped my phone. Just wait. Please don't hang up," I yell.
"Okay."
When the phone's in my hand, I start to panic.
A knock on the door has me jumping out of my skin. Covering the phone with my palm, I open the door.
Mark's eyes narrow when he sees my face... then widen when he sees the phone in my hand. A slow smirk develops. "Lucy?" he whispers.
I nod frantically.
He places his hands on my shoulders and shakes me gently. "You got this, kid. Just be yourself." I keep nodding. His eyes wander to somewhere behind me. "Your porn's on display." I turn around to see the last year's worth of magazines spread out on the floor. I must've knocked them over. I kick them back under the bed. By the time I turn back to the door, he's gone.
I blow out a huge breath and bring the phone to my ear. "Hello?"
"Hey."
My fist clenches at my side as an attempt to reign in my nerves. "What are you doing?"
"Uh... not much, just packing the boys' lunch for tomorrow."
"Cool." Cool? Loser! I'm a fucking loser!
"What are you doing?" she asks. I can hear her own nerves in her voice and for some stupid reason it's reassuring. Like I'm not the only one that feels like the future lies in this one conversation.
"I'm just laying in bed. I'm exhausted."
She chuckles—it's the first time I've ever heard it. "I know what you mean."
"Yeah? You can't do the boys' lunches tomorrow morning?"
She yawns, loudly, for so long it makes me laugh.
"I'm sorry," she says. And I can almost picture her smiling. "No. If I do it tomorrow I'd have to wake up at four. It's just easier this way."
I try to think of a way to help her out. "I'd come over in the morning, but I have early practice."
"Oh no, I don't expect you to do that. You do so much already."
It hits me as strange now—how open she is on the phone, compared to how shut
down she is in person.
"Crud bucket," she whispers.
I laugh. "Crud bucket?"
"Lachlan's up. I gotta settle him."
"Oh." My heart sinks. I was hoping to spend some time talking, getting to know her a little.
"It should only take a few minutes. I could call you right back?"
"Yes!" My eyes snap shut. I'm eager. Way too eager.
"Okay. I'll call you soon. Don't drop your phone this time."
"Okay," I say through my stupidly huge grin.
I take the time to settle my nerves so that I don't sound like a dick on the phone. A few minutes later, she calls back. "So your mom and dad seem nice."
"Oh that's not my dad. That's my mom's boyfriend."
"Really? Well... he seems nice."
"Yeah, they're good people."
"How did they meet?"
"You really wanna know?"
"Yes. I love a good romance. Please, will you tell me?"
So I do—because I don't think I could ever say no to her.
I tell her everything, and she listens and asks questions. And even though none of it really matters to her, the fact that we're actually talking matters to me.
"So you read a lot?" I ask.
"Yeah. Well, I used to. It's hard to find the time now. By the time everyone's in bed, I study. I normally fall asleep with my e-reader on my face." She laughs quietly. "I'm such a dork."
-LUCY-
He sighs into the phone, and I try not to imagine him lying in bed, with his messy, dirty blond hair smeared all over the place, and his huge dark eyes staring up at the ceiling, blinking away the tiredness the way he does. Then I try not to wonder what he's wearing, or not wearing. "You're not a dork," he says. "You're cute."
My breath catches, and he must hear it because he apologizes before I can speak. I push back the hurt of him taking it back. I want to be cute for him.
I don't know what we talk about for so long, but by the time we hang up, it's nearly two in the morning. I rest my head on my pillow with a smile on my face. And then I remember everything. I remember what my life is. And what I can't have. And I remember that she's gone. And that I have no right to be happy. To be smiling. I get out of bed and silently move to the bathroom, where I punish myself for even thinking about the possibilities of a happy future.
CHAPTER THREE
-CAMERON-
I thought after what happened last night that things would change. She ignores me at school, and goes back to ignoring me at her house. I hoped for a moment that maybe some of the sadness in her would be gone, but she seems worse today. There's an uneasiness in the pit of my stomach that's telling me that maybe I caused it. Maybe I should have said or done something differently. "Are you okay?"
She starts the dishwasher and glances around the kitchen, but there's no one around—the boys are occupied or down for the night. Her frown deepens and her gaze drops. She doesn't answer. She just walks away.
One of these days, I'm going to stop her from walking away from me.
I stay as late as possible without breaking curfew. Just as I'm about to head out the front door, I hear her voice. "Okay Dad," she says quietly, then a door shuts and quiet footsteps come down the stairs. "You're still here?"
I ignore the question, and the annoyance of her mood switch since talking last night. "I wanted to talk to you."
Her eyes narrow in question.
"My dad's coming into town tomorrow for a meeting. I'm spending the day with him, so I won't be at the twins' game... and then I promised my boys I'd hang out with them tomorrow night. Logan's giving me shit that I never do stuff with them anymore..."
"Okay," she murmurs, her eyes darting to mine. And I swear it; I see disappointment in them. "No one forces you to come here, remember? You don't need to inform me, or ask for permission, or whatever."
I swallow my nerves, or anger, or both. I release it all in a giant sigh. "Bye Lucy." And then I leave. I get on my dumb bike, put my feet on the stupid pedals and ride home. The second I'm under my covers, all I want to do is call her. So when my phone rings and her name flashes on the screen, I almost piss my pants. Almost. I'm so pre-occupied wondering whether I actually did pee a little that I don't realize I've answered until she says hello for the third time. I bring the phone to my ear but all the words are trapped my throat.
"It's Lucy," she says.
"I know," I clip. Because I've suddenly turned into a dick.
She lets out a heavy breath. "I'm sorry for calling. I didn't mean to disturb you." She sniffs once. Is she crying? Fuck. I've made her cry.
Then the phone cuts out, or at least that's what I tell myself, because I really don't want to believe that she hung up on me.
I try calling back.
Six times.
She never answers.
***
Spending the day with Dad meant sitting around his hotel room while his phone was glued to his ear. He's a hot-shot sports agent from New Jersey and came here to see a sophomore that has so much potential pitching talent, the MLB were already chasing him. I didn't tell him that I was friends with the kid he was meeting with. If my dad knew that we went to the same school, he never mentioned it. And if Jake was interested in my dad representing him then he'd make that choice without any influence from me. He did ask me what my season's batting average was, but his phone rang before I got a chance to answer. And that was that.
I tried calling Lucy.
Three times.
She never answered.
"What's with you, Cam? You've been so out of it lately." Logan's gaze follows some blonde across the room. When his eyes finally leave her, he takes a swig of his beer, then points it at me. "Where the hell have you been lately?"
I shrug and play dumb just as two girls walk up to us. And that's when I know that whatever 'boys night' Logan had planned for us is no longer in play. He and Jake will have their hands full in two seconds. And me—all I can think about is the sad, broken girl I've been spending way too much time dreaming about.
So it's no surprise at all I leave the party and end up where I am... walking down her stupidly long driveway. It's past ten, and the inside of the house is dark. I take the steps to get to their lit-up closed in porch, where she currently stands with her back turned. She's in her pajamas; yellow with blue books on them. "Lucy?"
She slowly spins around—her hair a curtain around her face. And then she looks up...
If heartbreak had a sound, it would be her sob.
She lifts the watering can in her hand and waves it slowly around her. "These were hers," she whispers, pointing the can to the pots of roses around her. Her eyes bore into mine when she continues. "I keep thinking that if I keep them alive, then maybe she'll come back." Her tears fall, but she doesn't wipe them away. I cover the distance to get to her. I don't touch her. I don't speak. I don't know what the hell to do. "Do you think it'll work, Cameron? Do you think she'll come back? If I take care of things like she did... maybe it won't be so bad for her to come back. I don't even care if she lays in her bed dying. She could just do that." She sucks in a shaky breath. Shit. What the fuck do I do? "It's my fault," she says through a cry. "I wanted her to die. I wished for it. And now she's gone..." Water spills on the floor as she drops the watering can, and then herself—crashing to her knees and burying her head in her hands. And I'm right there with her, holding on to her. "She's gone and all I want is to have her back. I miss her so much." She cries hard into my chest. "I miss holding her hand. I miss her voice. I miss the smell of her." She pulls back slightly and searches my face. Her hand reaches up to my cheek, wiping away tears I didn't know were there. Then she releases a breath, her shoulders dropping with the force of it. Her gaze moves toward the house, then back to me. "Please don't tell anyone," she whispers. And I have no damn clue what the hell just happened. I nod anyway. Slowly, she comes to a stand, bringing me with her. And now we're face-to-face, closer than we've ever been. "Are you hungry?" she asks.
She takes my hand and leads me into her house. I don't like being far from her. And right now, I have a feeling that she needs someone close.
*
"You're not eating?"
She sits opposite me with nothing but a glass of water and slowly shakes her head.
"I kind of feel weird sitting here eating your food alone."
She shakes her head again. "It's yours. I made it for you."
My eyes narrow as I take in her words. "I told you I wouldn't be over today. Did you forget?"
"No." Her fingers pick at a worn spot on the table. "Just in case you decided to show," she says quietly.
My heart picks up. "Did you want me to show?"
Her head lifts and her eyes lock with mine. She nods slightly. It's a small movement, but one that's enough to flip my entire world off it's axis.
I hide my smile with a mouthful of food.
We sit in silence until I'm done.
"You're out past curfew?" She takes my dishes and places them in the sink.
I get up and shake my head. "Curfew's not until one on weekends."
"Oh." She looks from the clock to me—a small smile plays on her lips. It's as confusing as it is gratifying. I force myself to believe that I'm the reason.
I'm the reason she's smiling.
"So..." she starts, looking uncomfortable. "You wanna watch some TV? The boys say we have Netflix. I don't really know how to use it, but I'm—"
"Sure," I interrupt. "I don't really care what we do. I'm just glad you're not asking me to leave."
And there it is; that smile again.
-LUCY-
We're supposed to be watching a movie, but I keep catching him watching me. It makes me uncomfortable, but not in the way that it probably should. It makes me feel like I should change from my pajamas into something nicer. Something prettier. For the first time in my life, I wish I were prettier. I want to be prettier for him.
"I have to go," he says quickly, standing up and walking to the kitchen.
I try to calm my breathing before walking in after him. He's washing his dishes from earlier.
