by Anne Mercier
"What injuries did she sustain?" he asks, his brow furrowed with concern.
"Broken arm and some major bruises from what I've heard. This is all second-hand information so it could be a bunch of BS. All I know is she is everywhere. It's creepy and I don't even have my boyfriend to talk to about it. He could talk to her, ask her to back off—not that it would do any good, but he could try. But he's not here," I bite out.
"Have you discussed this with your friends? Alexa? Sebastian?"
I nod. "I have. They know what's going on—well, Sebastian does now. He found out last night."
"What did he say about it?"
"Let's just say he wasn't too happy he didn't know it was still going on." I shift on the couch, then get up and start pacing. "I just didn't want to bother him, you know? He's my friend, yes, but I've laid so much at his feet since we've met—it's just not fair. This friendship seems one-sided and I don't like it," I tell him.
"Doesn't he lean on you, as friends do? About classes or his family?"
"Well, yeah, but I dumped the accident on him right after we met. He's helped me cope with the loss of my friends and face the fact they're not coming back. Then factor in Cam and Alison," I sigh. "I admit, he makes it easier for me. The thing is, his problems are nowhere near as heavy as mine. Mine are like lead while his are like feathers."
"It may not feel like that to him. What you feel are feathers might feel like lead to him," he informs me.
"I guess," I agree, sitting back on the couch.
"If it's that concerning to you, discuss it with him, and with Alexa. Communication is the key to every relationship."
I nod. "It's just not easy sometimes, that level of communication."
"No, it's not. It puts you in a vulnerable place and no one enjoys that, but if they are truly your friends, they won't take advantage of that. Instead, they'll ease those insecurities and help you if they are able. You know all of this, Olivia. Is there something more going on?" he asks, seeing more than I want him to.
"No. I just don't want to be anyone's burden."
"Do you trust your friends?" he asks.
"Of course."
"Then why are you hesitating?"
Good question. "I trust them. It's my own insecurities… and you just said they'll help me with those."
"I did. So what are you going to do?" he asks, tapping his pen on his thigh.
"I'll talk to them tonight. Oh, it's Friday… Cam…" Screw that. "He can wait. I doubt he'd even notice I wasn't there."
"Olivia, I know yours and Cameron's relationship is new, but I see it weighing on you and you're beginning to resent him."
"What?" I ask, stunned.
"Think of what you just said to me. 'He can wait. I doubt he'd even notice I wasn't there'."
"Oh," I whisper.
"Resentment and anger aren't good tools for any relationship, but more importantly a new one."
"What should I do?" I ask quietly. "What can I do? I don't see things getting better anytime soon. Do I break up with him? I can't even believe I'm saying that," I admit, wiping a tear from my cheek.
"Don't think of it as breaking up so much as taking a break to see how things go. If you still feel the same about him when things with football slow down again, then you can try to start again."
He says it so reasonably, so logically. It hurts to think about it.
"I don't know. I need to think about that."
He nods. "You've told me in the past that when you had issues you'd go to your friends, the Fab Five, for advice. What do you think they'd say about all of this?"
"Wow. I don't know—well, I do. You just caught me off guard." I miss them so much right now. They'd know what to do and they wouldn't be shy about telling me either—especially Simon. Tears begin to fall and I reach for the tissue box.
"I think Simon and Danny would tell me to dump Cam—then Phil would agree and so would Cassidy," I admit.
"But?" he asks.
"But it's not that easy. I don't know if I can do it. I love him. How can I be without him?" I ask.
"Right now you're not really with him, though, are you?"
Everything's a question. I want to stomp my foot and demand he tell me what he's getting at without making me say it for him.
"Yes… and no. More no than yes."
He nods and just watches me.
"I know what I have to do but I'm not ready to do it."
"Only you can decide what you want to do. You've made so much progress since you started coming here all those months ago. I don't want to see it undone for, yet, another reason," he advises.
I nod. "Okay."
"Now let's talk about Alison."
We spent the last twenty minutes talking about psycho bitch and all the shitty things she's done to me since she arrived. Needless to say, Dr. Wheeler advised me to get a restraining order and talk to the police. Thing is, she really hasn't done anything bad. It's just been petty, stupid stuff—bullying, and while that's a crime, I have no real proof. I decided from now on I'd keep my phone handy and use my recording app whenever psycho gets near. I need proof—evidence—if anyone's going to believe me—including Cam.
I walk out the door to see Bash leaning against his car. Shit.
"What are you doing here?" I ask lightly.
"Waiting for you." I make my way down the walk to where he's standing. "Come here often, do you?"
I sigh. "Yeah. Two times a week since I got here." It was three when I first arrived in New York, but as I've been feeling more stable and like myself, the doc and I agreed to cut back to twice a week.
He nods. "That's good. I'm glad you're talking to someone."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you—I don't know why I didn't," I babble. "I know I can tell you anything but I just needed to work on things on my own, I think."
He pulls me into his chest with one arm and gives me a quick hug.
"I can understand that. You don't owe me any explanations, Livvy."
I look up at him. "I feel like I do."
He shakes his head. "You'd have told me when you were ready."
"How did you know I was here?"
"I was driving by when you walked into the building."
"You've been waiting this whole time?"
"Nah. I went and dropped off my groceries and some for you that Lex had me pick up. Then I came back. Why'd you walk?" he asks.
I shrug. "I don't know. I've walked to every one of my appointments with Dr. Wheeler."
"Pretty soon it's going to be too cold to walk this far."
"True. And the snow will definitely slow me down."
"Definitely," he agrees. "I heard from Vince Martinez you're trying out for the basketball cheer squad."
I smirk and nod. "I am. So is Lex."
"I thought you didn't like cheerleading?" he asks.
"Do you remember every single thing I've ever told you?" I tease.
He shrugs. "I try."
I nudge against him with my shoulder. "I didn't like cheerleading when it was forced. Back then I felt like I didn't have a choice and I wanted to be doing nerdy things. I'm pretty excited about it now that I actually want to cheer."
"Good. I hope you make it. We'll get to hang out a lot," he tells me, opening the passenger door.
"We already hang out a lot."
"Yeah, but the squad got a donation or grant or something so they can come to the away games with us," he tells me with a wink.
"Get. Out," I tell him with a shove.
He chuckles. "Serious."
"That would be so awesome."
He closes the door and walks around to get in the driver's side.
I slide my eyes over to him.
"What?"
"If Lex and I make that squad, we are going to get into so much trouble," I tell him with a sly smile.
"That's all part of the fun," he agrees with a wink.
His eyelashes a
re too long for a guy—I want them for myself. I'd be able to go without mascara, and the fact that they frame those chocolate orbs, has me staring into them longer than is polite.
"Like what you see, Livvy?" he teases.
"Eh. You'll do."
five
We went to see a movie before we headed over to the frat party. I didn't even want to go, but I went for Lex. She does a lot for me, it's only fair—and Bash being along helped a lot.
I'm nervous. I don't know why I'm nervous. It's the same people at the same party week after week. Nothing has changed—except for my relationship with Cam. That has changed, at least for me. After hearing from him via text—and one phone call—all week, it's changed a whole hell of a lot. And after my appointment with Dr. Wheeler, it's left me with a lot to think about.
"C'mon, darlin'," Bash coaxes, urging me ahead with his hand at the small of my back. It's amazing what such a simple gesture can do to soothe anxiety. Knowing he's there, supporting me—well, it means more than it should—and that, right there, is going to give me more to think about.
The music blasting, the crowd loud and raucous, the beer and liquor flowing. Nope. Nothing's changed. I look around, trying to see if I can spot Cam anywhere, lifting up on tiptoe to get a better view. There he is. The sight of him causes my breath to catch, my heart to plummet, taking my disappointment to a whole new level.
"How could he?" I mutter aloud. Lex cringes and Bash grinds his teeth.
"Let's go find out," Bash replies.
I lead the way, and when Cam spots me, his eyes go wide with surprise? Guilt? Either way, it's telling—so is the fact that Alison is sitting on the arm of his chair.
"There's my girl," Cam slurs loudly.
I cross my arms over my chest and curl my lip.
"Aww, c'mon Liv. Don't be mad," he slurs again, reaching for me.
I take a step back into Bash's chest and he settles his hands on my shoulders.
"Easy," Bash says in my ear.
I cut my eyes to him and nod.
"Oh, Cam, I think she's pissed at you," Alison giggles.
He gives me a look. "I didn't do anything, Liv."
No kidding. Barely a phone call. Three weeks of this without an end in sight. Did I want to deal with this—again—because really, in this moment, he reminds me a lot of a drunk Danny.
I just stare at him, my frown tucked into place, and, for support, I lean back a little to rest against Bash. Cam and I have been together for a couple months—that's including when we were just screwing around. He'd been different with me, but right now, with the sneer that's formed on his face, he reminds me of the Cam from Destiny.
I should have known better.
"It's all good. You can sit here and continue to flirt with this psycho bully bitch and I'll go back to my friends."
He doesn't like that. At all. His eyes flare with heat.
"I'm not flirting with anyone," Cam tries to defend.
Alison giggles and runs a fingernail down his heavily muscled arm. "Well, you were a little."
He cuts her a look and she simply rolls her eyes. Just like days of old.
I straighten my spine and walk toward him, resting my hands on the arms of his chair—giving Alison a shove off—and leaning into his space. He reaches for me and I just shake my head.
"No. That's not why I came over here," I tell him, my mouth close to his ear.
"Then why did you?" he asks.
I pull back, looking into those gorgeous emerald eyes, searching for the man I thought I fell in love with—but he's nowhere to be seen. What I see now is the boy I once knew and feared.
"I think we need a break," I tell him flatly.
His mouth screws up and he snorts before he gets to his feet. "Come with me so we can talk about this in private."
Bash gives me a questioning look and I just shake my head. I've spent too much time being lonely and sad over this. Maybe talking will make a difference, maybe not. All I know is, I need to hear what he has to say.
Cam leads me out the back door, back toward the wall we sat on only a short time ago. It seems longer.
I scoot up onto the wall and he does the same.
"What's this about, Olivia?" he asks, his tone neither kind nor cruel. It's…empty, annoyed.
"I think with everything you've got going on, you don't have time for me, so it's best if we just take a break."
"A break," he says flatly.
I nod. "Yeah."
He tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes. "You mean a break or a breakup?"
I shrug. "A break. When you have more time, then we'll see if we're still in the same place. I just don't want to keep sitting around waiting for the scraps you throw me, all the while you thinking I should be grateful for them."
He stands up and starts pacing. "I've been busting my ass for the game. You know that."
"I do. But I don't see any of the other guys freezing out their girlfriends. In fact, I spoke to Erika, Denison's girlfriend, and he sees her every day," I say bravely—and it sounds so much more courageous than I feel.
"He's not looking to get drafted next year. I am. It takes everything I've got to keep up with school and the pace coach has set for me," he tells me, running a hand through his hair. That gesture used to be sexy, now it's just that—a gesture, and one of frustration.
"This is what I mean, Cam. A break is a good thing. Like you just said, you don't have time for anything else," I repeat.
"God damn it, Olivia, I don't need this shit right now."
"What shit?" I ask, feeling my anger rise.
"This," he says with a wave of his hand. "The girlie shit."
I snort. "I hate to break it to you, pal, but I am a girl."
"Fuck! That's not… I thought I'd be able to count on you," he scoffs.
"And I thought I'd be able to count on you—my boyfriend—to have my back with all of your ex-girlfriend's bullying, but here you are, besties, flirting just like back in Destiny," I sneer, my anger getting the best of me.
"She's just fucking around, Liv. I talked to her and she said she's backed off."
I lean up into his space. "She lied. Surprise, surprise."
"Set her straight if what I said isn't working," he instructs.
"And make it to get worse? No, thanks," I mock.
"What can she really do? Honestly. Stupid childish pranks?"
"Are you kidding me with all of this right now?"
He gives me a confused look.
"You're going to tell me to suck it up, this whole Alison thing? Seriously? And you can't count on me? Are you fucking kidding? I am always here for you, no matter what you need!" I shout.
He reaches for me, pulling me into him, and grinding his erection against my belly. "Then give me what I need right now. Let's fuck. Right here. Right now."
"What?" I ask, rearing back in shock.
He lifts a brow and smirks. "What? You're here for me, you said. No matter what I need, right? Well, right now I need a really good fuck and you are my girlfriend, right?"
This is like a flashback—only worse. I know this boy. This is the one who's frustrated and needs a punching bag. Well, not this time.
"No," I whisper.
"What?" he asks.
"No," I say louder, lifting my eyes to his.
He smirks cockily. "No, you don't wanna fuck?"
I shake my head. "No. No, I don't wanna fuck; and no, I'm not your girlfriend."
"That's new."
"Yeah? Well, I was your punching bag for years. Not anymore. Go fuck Alison and scratch your itch with her," I growl.
He rubs his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "That's not a bad idea."
I hold steady even though I want to flinch as if he slapped me—because that's exactly what it feels like. It feels like he slapped me hard across the face then punched his fist into my chest and ripped my heart out.
"Better we
ar a condom. I'm sure she's full of STD's," I call over my shoulder, walking away.
He grabs my arm, spinning me around.
"Get your fucking hand off me!" I shout. "I. Am. Done. You will not be taking your shit out on me. Not anymore. I deserve better." Traitorous tears slip from my eyes.
"Liv—"
I shake my head at his tender tone. Too little, too late.
"Get your shit straight, Cameron. I don't even know who you are right now." With that, I turn and walk to the house, wiping the last of the wetness from my cheeks. I've given too many of my tears over the years for reasons like this. It stops now.
I don't look back as I enter the kitchen, walking through to the large living space, and toward the front door where Bash is waiting for me, his fists opening and closing.
"You all right?" he asks, draping his arm over my shoulders and pulling me in to his side.
I nod.
"Why does this not surprise me?" Cam booms behind us, loud enough to draw everyone's attention.
I turn around and sigh. "What are you talking about now?" I ask, so completely tired of his shit.
"You and Smith, here. Have you two been fucking while I've been busting my ass on the game? Because I haven't given you enough attention?" he derides.
"Are you serious?" I ask with a roll of my eyes. Bash's hand tightens on my shoulder, just a little but it's enough for Cam to notice.
"Whatever. Like I give a fuck, anyway. You want her? You've got her, Smith. She's too fucking needy for me anyway," he barks, then walks back through the now silent crowd.
I roll my eyes, hiding my hurt and embarrassment, and turn to Bash. "Let's go."
We walk down the porch steps and out onto the sidewalk.
Bash pulls me closer and I wrap my arm around his waist, leaning into him—leaning on him.
"You okay, darlin'?"
I sigh, my heart hurting—but not as badly as I thought it would. Maybe the three weeks Cam disappeared from my life helped lessen the blow.
"I'm fine."
"What happened?" he asks.
