by Jay McLean
-LUCY-
His car pulls up outside the restaurant, music blaring and brakes squealing. I eye Heather and Mark for a quick moment, but they're too busy watching the scene play out.
The passenger's door rises; Roxy steps out first, and then Cameron from beneath her.
I look away—too heartbroken to see anymore.
"What the hell?" Heather mumbles. She says my name, but I pretend to not hear her. I stare down at the table, trying to hide my sadness and disappointment that I'm sure is evident.
"Hey," he says, taking his seat next to me.
"Is that your car someone else is driving?" Mark asks.
"Yeah," Cam laughs, "It's all good. The dude’s in AA—he's straight as an arrow." He puts his hand on my leg under the table. "Hey babe." He kisses my temple quickly, and then moves away. "Mother."
I don't know what her reaction is because I'm too afraid to look up.
"So," Cam says loudly. "What's everyone ordering?"
Heather sighs. "We've already eaten."
Cam's fingers on my leg dig in. "What do you mean?"
I push his hand off me and finally lift my gaze. Ignoring the stench of beer reeking from him, I face him. My voice comes out a whisper. "You're three hours late, Cameron."
His face drops and he looks around the table. "Huh," he says. "Would have been cool to have a phone so I could actually tell the time." He glances between Mark and Heather. "Did Lucy tell you she threw it at my head and smashed it on a wall? He laughs a bitter laugh. "Bet Princess didn't tell you that."
And now I'm crying. I frantically wipe my tears and stand up. "I'm gonna go," I squeak out. I shut my eyes and try to regain my composure. "Heather, Mark, it was nice seeing you again. I'll be sure to come by and visit over the summer."
I don't wait for a response. I rush to gather my stuff so no one sees me break down.
His hand curls around my arm, spinning me to face him. He's on his feet now, towering over me. "So what?" he snaps. "Things aren't going your way so you just walk?"
I glance around the restaurant, knowing people are watching.
"What about me, Luce? When the hell do I get to walk away from it? Never! That's when. You think I want to be here... playing happy boyfriend? All the fucking time, that's what I am." His voice gets louder with every word.
I flinch, like his words physically hurt me. Because they do. They hurt so damn much.
"I'm so fucking sick of this pressure. All the time—this goddamn pressure."
I want to speak. I want to tell him to shut up. But I can't breathe.
Finally, he releases my arm. "'You could be an architect, Cam.'" he mocks. And then he laughs once. "Your dad tells me that I could be an architect and all of a sudden I'm changing my fucking classes and reworking my entire life plan. You wanted to go to UNC, so that's where I go. You never asked me what I wanted, Lucy. Not once."
Silent tears fall and I wipe them. But I don't look away. I want to see his face, so I can remember it clearly—the moment he destroyed me. Destroyed us.
"Your dad 'encourages' me by making me a draft table and light box and I'm supposed to appreciate it, when really, what he's saying is 'Hey, poor little dumbshit, you're not good enough for my daughter, make something of yourself!'"
"Cameron!" Heather snaps.
I stay the same, crying, feeling every part of me falling apart.
"He's drunk." Mark tries to calm Heather down. But whether he's drunk or not, it makes no difference.
"I'm sinking under this pressure, Lucy! From you, from my parents, from your dad. You all expect me to be something and I don't even know if I want to be that! The classes, the studying, the scholarship, the work... I never wanted this. I never asked for it! You did! You wanted me to be this!" His words come out clipped, harsh.
"Oh and the scholarship!" he laughs again—that same bitter laugh. "You don't think I know your dad's floating me? No architect firm wanted to support me. It's his money! I'm not fucking stupid, Lucy." He's in my face now, pointing his finger down at me. His brows are furrowed and his nostrils flare. He's so mad, but he's so wrong. "How the fuck do you think that's supposed to make me feel? I can't fail. I can't drop the ball. I'll disappoint everyone. And all you guys do is push push push. I'm on the fucking edge here, Lucy! How much more can you push?"
I suck in a breath, my voice so quiet compared to his shouts. "I didn't know that I was pushing you, I just thought I was encourag—"
His eyes roll, cutting me off. "Of course not, Luce!" he yells again, louder than ever.
People gasp.
I flinch.
"You don't get it! You don't understand! Because everything's been handed to you. You've been raised with a silver spoon in your mouth and you've never had to worry about a goddamn thing in your entire fucking life!"
And there it is.
The moment of destruction.
My body shakes. Not from the sob. Or the adrenalin. But from the hurt.
My eyes shut.
I breathe in. Out.
Once.
Twice.
It feels like eternity.
My hands flex, ball.
Flex.
Ball.
"Lucy, honey," Heathers coos. And I don't need to see her to know she's crying.
Breathe.
Shut. It. Out.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Once.
Twice.
My eyes snap open, fixed on Cam.
All blood has drained from his face.
His shoulders sag.
His eyes are sympathetic.
"Lucy?" Mark sighs.
I turn to him and fake the perfected smile I mastered when I was fifteen.
"I'm fine," I tell him.
A single fine. A single lie.
"I'll see you later."
And then I walk away.
Away from my forever.
-CAMERON-
Her eyes snap open, and when they do, I die.
What the fuck did I just do?
It's been years. Five, to be exact—since I saw that look in her eyes.
The same look she had when I saw her in the laundry room at her house after her mom's funeral. It was the calm before the storm—only this time, there was no storm. No breaking of the dam. Back then, I wanted to be the reason for that calm look in her eyes. And now I am—but it was the wrong kind.
I should have been the calm. Not the reason.
I slump back in my chair, wondering how the fuck I'm going to fix this.
"Her dad isn't paying for your scholarship," Mom says quietly. "The first year was genuine, Bradman gave you that scholarship fair and square. The year after, they wanted to pull it. It wasn't beneficial for them. Tom knew—he came to us—offered to pay for it." My gaze lifts, trying to focus on her. "I wouldn't accept it, Cameron. And I knew you wouldn't either. So I sold the house and went to Bradman, I asked him to say it came from them, because I knew you wouldn't accept it from me. They said they would do it if you worked there. I didn't know, Cam. I didn't know that it was going to be too much for you, and that you'd turn into this." She sniffs and wipes her tears, then turns to Mark. "I'm going to try to catch Lucy, she needs a mother right now."
There's a stabbing pain. Right in my heart. I want it to hurt—more than it does. I deserve to feel the pain.
Mark—he just shakes his head, a look of disgust on his face. "When did you become an asshole?"
And then he gets up, and he leaves.
Everyone leaves.
A familiar figure holding a tray comes into my vision. She starts clearing the table. I slouch in my chair, kick my legs out, and tilt my head back, eyeing the ceiling. "I fucked up, Amanda."
She doesn't respond, just continues clearing the table.
I sit up now, trying to compose myself. "I've lost her and I don't think I'll ever get her back."
She freezes mid movement, and then faces me, her eyes filled with tears. "At least you know why, Camero
n. I didn't even get that."
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
-CAMERON-
After everyone left I sat at the bar and drank until I could no longer feel my face. Amanda ignored me the entire time. She hates me too.
I wanted to call Lucy but I had no phone. And I doubt she'd answer.
I think, Ethan, Amanda's brother, who was there watching over her, gave me a ride home. I say I think, because I don't really remember.
I ended up at her room, knocking louder than I should. Rose answered, but she told me she hadn't been home all night.
Now, I'm sitting at my cubicle at the firm with my head on the desk and my arms covering it, trying to drown in my own self-pity and sorrow.
"Hey C-Money."
I grunt in response.
"I drove your car back, how you feelin'?"
My head's pounding. My body aches. My heart is dead. I try to reply, but all I can do is moan.
"Heads up," she says.
But I'm slow to react, and then Lucy's voice fills my ears. "Cameron."
My head lifts. My eyes snap to her. And all of a sudden I'm alert. I know my heart’s alive again because it's hammering so hard, so fast. "Babe," I croak.
She smiles. That same fake fucking smile from last night. And from the days after her mom died.
Roxy shifts from her leaning position on my desk. "I'm gonna go," she says slowly.
"No," Lucy cuts in. It's fast. Too fast. She's afraid to be alone with me. "It's okay, Roxy, stay." Her eyes move to me. "I just came to give you the key to the cabin and bring your stuff from my dorm."
Only now do I see her holding a box. All my shit's in there, including the folio where she kept all my sketches. My sketches of her. My heart.
She continues, "I cleared out the room overnight, so I wanted to give it to you."
Fuck.
The burning in my chest is so strong I feel like I'm going to burst.
I stand up and clear my throat. "I thought we were leaving on Sunday?"
She smiles again. I've never hated a smile so much in my entire fucking life. "I know that you wanted to stay at the cabin because you felt awkward staying at Mark's house." That was a lie. I didn't care where I stayed, but I wanted to be with her. Alone. I wanted her to myself so I made it up.
"I told my dad you were gonna be there. I haven't told him what happened, so you don't have to be uncomfortable."
Even though I know the worst is happening, still, I ask, "What do you mean what happened?"
Fuck her fake smile. Fuck it all.
She sets the box on my desk, and the key next to it. "I gotta go," she sighs, looking down at the floor. "Micky's in her car waiting." Her gaze lifts. Her eyes bore into mine. "She's taking me to the airport, Cameron."
"What!" I step forward and take her hand. "Where are you going?"
She pulls out of my hold. "I'm just going away for a little bit."
"Away?" My heart pounds faster. Harder. Panic rushes through me. "Away?" I repeat. "Away from me?"
She has that look in her eyes again. That calm that shouldn't exist, not when the world around us is falling apart.
She nods once.
And I lose it.
I pull on her arm and drag her into an empty office. Slamming the door behind me, I turn to her. "What the fuck is happening right now?" I say to anyone that will listen.
She just stands there, her arms at her sides and sadness in her eyes I hoped to never see again.
I link our fingers. She lets me. Then I lean against a desk and pull her between my legs. She pulls a hand out of my hold and raises it, reaching up to wipe the tears on my cheeks. I can't stop crying. Her name leaves my lips. It sounds like a plea.
"I'm sorry, Cameron," she whispers.
Why the fuck is she sorry?
"I'm sorry that you felt like I pushed you, or pressured you—"
"Stop."
"No." She rests her forehead against mine. "I need to say this, and you need to hear it." Her voice is strained as she talks through her own cries. "I believed in you, and your art, so much that I thought I was encouraging you. I never thought that—" Her voice breaks, she clears it before continuing, "I never thought that I was pressuring you, or pushing you. And I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that you never felt like you were good enough. I'm sorry that I never told you that I would love you regardless of what you chose. Regardless of who you wanted to be. I'm sorry that our time together has been about me. And that you have always been about me. Cameron..." She stops to take a few calming breaths. We both do. We stand, our foreheads touching, breathing the same air, but there's endless space between us. "I loved you before you told me. I loved you before you kissed me. I loved you every day since we were fifteen. And I've loved you more with each passing day. But last night, you destroyed me. You took that love and you ruined me."
I drop my head onto her shoulder and sob uncontrollably. I release her hand and wrap my arms around her waist. I don't want to let her go. "I fucked up," I tell her. "I fucked everything up. And I didn't mean any of it."
She can't control her cries. And neither can I. She pulls back, holds my head in both her hands and looks me right in the eyes, wiping my tears as she does. "I would have loved you, every single day, forever, Cameron."
My head slowly shakes from side to side, because I know what this is. And I don't want it to happen. "Don't say that," I almost shout. "Don't, Lucy. Please. You're talking like we're done. That it's over." I stop to take a breath. "We promised each other forever. Don't you remember? Forever, Luce. You promised me."
"We both did," she says, her voice calm now. "We promised each other our forever. But maybe our forever is over."
My fingers curl into the back of her dress. I don't want to hear any of it. I don't want to believe it. "Don't say that," I beg. I plead. "I don't know how to fix this."
She pulls back, reaching behind her to unclasp my hands. I grip tighter.
"Cam, please," she sobs. "I have to go. This hurts too much."
And at her words, I release her. Because the last thing I ever wanted was to hurt her.
She leans up on her toes, the saltiness from both our tears combine with our kiss.
One kiss.
One final goodbye.
"I loved you so much," she whispers.
And then she's gone.
I drop my head in my hands and sit on the floor, too exhausted to stay standing.
And then I cry. Get angry. Cry. Get angry.
And then I do it all over again.
Because she said loved.
She loved me.
CHAPTER THIRTY
-LUCY-
Lucas meets me at the airport in New Jersey. He was the one that answered when I called last night to speak to Dad about Cameron staying at the cabin. He knew instantly that something was wrong. I told him what had happened, and I told him not to tell anyone. He let me cry for I don't even know how long. And when he knew I was done he said, "Luce, I'm sorry. Shit happens. You don't deserve it. Let's get fucked up." I laughed, and twenty minutes later we had flights booked to New Jersey.
We wait outside the airport for my friend Claudia and her brother Jason to show up. We all grew up together. Jason and Lucas were inseparable when they were kids, and even now, years later, it's like time hasn't passed at all.
"So my parents are away for a few weeks, somewhere in the Bahamas. We have the house to ourselves," Claudia informs, winking at me in the rear view mirror.
I try to smile, but the ache in my heart stops it from showing.
"How small is your fucking car?" Lucas says from next to me. He's crouched over in the tiny space of Claudia's two door. "My nose is itchy but I don't—" He starts to wiggle around, making a show of not being able to move.
I scratch his nose for him as a joke. He sighs when I do. "You're just lucky you got Mom's height," he tells me.
I laugh. A genuine laugh. He smiles when he hears it. And it hits me, how much things have changed. I miss my family. I
miss my friend.
"Hey guys," Jason says, turning in his seat to look at us. "Your mom was what? Five-one? Five-two max. And your dad's what? Six-five?"
Lucas and I glance at each other quickly, and then nod at Jason.
His nose scrunches. "How did they have sex? A lot of doggy style I'd think."
"DUDE!" Lucas yells.
"That's sick," I tell him.
Claudia pipes up. "What are you doing thinking about their parents having sex?"
Lucas makes a gagging sound.
I lean back in the seat and look out the window, promising myself to try. Try to live without my forever.
*
"He hasn't called?" Claudia sits on the lounge chair next to mine.
"He has no phone, so no. But I don't know that he would. And I don't know that I'd answer. I think I need time, you know?
She smiles. "Are you sad?"
I lift my sunglasses on top of my head and face her. "No, Claud. I'm devastated."
***
The next day Jason and Lucas spend a good three hours reminiscing about their high school days together. They enjoyed it so much that the day after that, five of their friends showed up from home to hang out with them.
Now there are seven boys in the house. The pool is always in use, music is always up and alcohol is always flowing. And that's the way it's been for the last two weeks.
Sometimes Claudia tries to get me to talk about Cameron. I don't really have much to say, so I stay quiet. But that doesn't mean that I don't think about him. All the time.
"You think it was about time?" she said once. I asked her what she meant. She just shrugged and said, "He's always been so great, what you've always needed and wanted. You always made him out to be so perfect, and I didn't really ever believe you. Five years you guys have been together and this is the first time you can say anything bad about him? So he has flaws, so what? Maybe that's what makes him perfect."
-CAMERON-
Jake: Kayla just told me she went by the cabin but Lucy wasn't there.
I throw my phone on Jake and Micky's coffee table and slump back on their couch. I've been staying here since the day after Lucy left. I didn't bother to go home. I didn't want to stay at our—I mean her—cabin. And Mom and Mark... I can't even deal with hearing the disappointment in their voices let alone seeing it in their faces.
