Frustrated, I toss my phone, leaving Noah’s text unanswered. I don’t want to deal with him right now.
I strip out of my clothes and climb between the cool sheets. The same feeling of emptiness washes over me, like it always does when I sleep at home. Only this time, I feel like I might have something else I care about. And I hate myself for it.
By the time morning rolls around, I haven’t slept a wink. I’ve checked my phone at least a thousand times, and contemplated calling Hayley at least a thousand more. In the end, I convinced myself that it’s better this way, for us to stay friends. But I don’t even know if that is a possibility. Maybe that’s better too. I don’t need her complicating my life and she doesn’t need me fucking up hers. It doesn’t stop me from wondering how if she’s okay though, and if her daughter is going to be alright.
I scrub my face, feeling exhausted from tossing and turning all night. I climb out of bed but instead of hitting the shower I pack my swimming bag. Glancing at my watch I see it’s only seven a.m. I have three hours until my first class and there’s only one place I want to kill that time. It’s the only place where I know I can forget about life for a while. I throw on a pair of shorts and polo shirt and grab my bag. I’m on autopilot when I drive to the swimming pool, and when I change into my gear. I don’t even register that the water is freezing. I just swim. And I keep swimming until my legs start to cramp and my lungs threaten to self-combust between my ribs. But when I hoist myself out of the water and sit on the edge, catching my breath, I’m unable to ignore the one feeling I wish I could stomp out.
Guilt.
* * *
The rest of my week passes in a similar fashion. Wake up, swim, go to class, and come home. I pretend that I’m fine, that I don’t care about Hayley or the fact that I hurt her. I pretend that it doesn’t bother me that I haven’t seen her in a few days. But in reality, I’ve been looking for her everywhere. She stopped taking Hannah’s calls and every time Hannah has stopped by their house, Hayley’s grandmother says she’s not there. Noah asked me what is going on and since I’ve already acted like a complete jerk, I figured lying to one more person wouldn’t hurt. I tell him I lost interest, and Hayley didn’t take it well, which I guess is only half true. He reacted the way I expected him to - he shrugged and said, “That’s too bad Cam, I bet she would’ve been great in bed.” It was the first time I wanted to punch my best friend in the face and knock him the fuck out. And then I felt like knocking myself out for being such a hypocrite. I was no better than he was. I had every intention of getting Hayley into my bed, even if that meant waiting a few weeks. But somewhere along the line, it was as if a switch was flipped and wanting her for that felt…wrong. Because deep down I know she’s more than a quick fuck or one nightstand.
All this pretending is making me cranky and Noah and Hannah have been trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. Instead of talking to someone about it, I take my frustration and guilt out on my body, in the water. The only person who doesn’t complain is Coach. My times so far have improved and because of all the extra training I’ve been putting in, we’ve been doing really well in our swim meets. I’m completely wiped out by the time I get home but that also suits me. It saves me from having the conversation with my mother that is two years overdue and the source of my internal misery.
It’s been an entire week since I last saw Hayley and I’m walking out of the Cafeteria when I spot Hannah coming from the opposite direction. She looks pissed and her angry eyes are directed straight at me. “This can’t be good,” I mutter to myself. I stop and wait for her to reach me. But that was very stupid because she’s not pissed, she’s in a flat out rage and I seem to be the cause.
“What it wrong with you?” she half-yells, not giving a flying fuck that we’re in public.
“Hi Hannah, it’s so nice to see you. I’m great, thanks for asking,” I reply sarcastically. What the hell could she be so mad about?
“Don’t get smart with me you douchebag,” she snaps. Her black hair is a mess and it looks like she literally just rolled out of bed. The slippers on her feet are a dead giveaway. I resist the urge to laugh at her disheveled state. I always avoid provoking Hannah when she’s in a mood like this.
“What is wrong with you?” I ask, suddenly irritated. “Are you on your period or something?”
The way Hannah’s face reddens and her eyes bulge are an indication that I have clearly said the wrong thing. Her hands fist at her sides and I watch as she struggles to reign on her anger.
“How could you, Cameron?” she asks angrily.
My irritation escalates. Why can women never say what they mean, instead of expecting us to guess all the damn time? “How could I what Hannah?”
“I always knew you could be an asshole, and I tried not to hold that against you after all the shit you’ve been through. But you stooped the lowest you ever have Cam. I can’t believe you.”
Before I can stop myself, I yell, “What the fuck are you talking about Hannah? I can’t read your fucking mind woman! Spell it the fuck out for me, in English!”
“You told Hayley you wouldn’t have asked her out if you knew about her daughter!” she screams. Her anger gets the better of her and she allows a few tears to slip down her cheeks. She wipes them away furiously as I stare at her.
Lowering my voice, I ask, “What did you expect me to do, Hannah? I don’t need complications in my life, you know that. I don’t do relationships, and I sure as hell don’t do ‘moms’ either.”
“You could’ve handled it so much better, Cameron. You had no reason to say any of those things to her, especially not at the damn hospital!”
“Well when did you expect me to say it? After I’d had sex with her?”
Hannah snorts. “We both know it was about more than sex with Hayley.”
I bristle, crossing my arms over my chest. “What is that supposed to mean? Of course it was just about the sex, it always is!”
“Then tell me honestly, in the last two months that you’ve become friends with Hayley, how many times did you think about Rachel? Or having sex with someone else, huh?”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” I retort.
“The hell it doesn’t. Just admit that you care about her, Cameron.”
And there it is. The crux of my problem. The very thought that has kept me awake every night since I left Hayley in that emergency room. I look down, afraid that Hannah will see everything I’m trying so hard to hide written all over my face.
My voice is barely above a whisper when I reply, “I can’t.”
“Why not?” Hannah probes.
“Because!” I yell again. “I destroy everyone I give a fuck about!”
Hannah’s face drops as my words register. She knows what I mean; she’s one of the few people cognizant of what haunts me.
“Cam,” she breathes, taking a step closer to me. “You can’t keep living your life this way because of one mistake you made two years ago. It was an accident, and your mom and Candice don’t hold you responsible.”
“But they should,” I reply. “It was my fault. It’s my fault my dad is…”
I swallow my words. I can’t even bring myself to say it. Just thinking about what I’ve done to my family, to my father, is enough to make me sick.
“Please, Cam,” Hannah pleads quietly. She touches my cheek with her palm. “Make it right with Hayley. She makes you…different.”
“How?”
Hannah’s mouth tilts up, giving me a half-smile as she replies, “Happy.”
She’s right. Even as a friend, Hayley made me feel happiness. It’s foreign, because I denied myself of that feeling for so long that I forgot what it felt like, what it looked like.
What scares me, though, is how I need to make things right with Hayley. There’s only one way I can fix this and I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet. I would have to show Hayley the ugliest part of me. Maybe then she’ll see that I actually did her a favor, because I can’t gi
ve her what I think she wanted if there’s nothing left to give.
Chapter 9
~ Hayley ~
I sit next to Ari’s hospital bed and watch her sleep. I am way past the point of exhaustion, barely having slept at all over the last week. To say this has been a nightmarish ordeal is putting it mildly and making light of a rather traumatizing experience for both Ari and me. It has been the longest week of my life and I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve cried out of pure frustration. There is nothing worse than feeling helpless, watching them wheel your baby girl into surgery knowing that all you can do is wait. The waiting didn’t last that long but when a nurse came out about half way through Ari’s surgery I had my first breakdown as a result of sheer panic. I was sure something had gone wrong, and while I wasn’t sure if it was possible for a child to die during a procedure as common as an appendectomy, it didn’t stop my mind from going there. The nurse informed us the surgery would take a little longer because Ari’s appendix had burst but they managed to stop any infection in her stomach and that so far the surgery was going well. I felt a war of emotions coursing through my body. It was a battle between panic, because she’s so small and so young to have to go through this, and relief, because she was doing okay under the circumstances.
When they finally brought her out and settled her into a room, I cried again. Seeing her with I.V drips and giant plasters on her tiny stomach was my undoing, and then hearing her scream when they needed to clean her wound had me fighting the urge to knock more than one of the nurses out. They had to do their jobs, but last time I checked that didn’t include hurting my baby.
The door opens slowly, filling the small room with light. My grandmother walks in, smiling at me with sympathy and understanding.
“Sweetheart, have you slept all today?” she asks me, her voice gentle yet laced with concern.
I shake my head, “No.”
“Have you eaten?”
I shake my head again, “I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat Hayley,” she admonishes. Her hands rest on her hips and I know we’re about to argue. Stubbornness runs in the family. “How are you going to take care of Arianna when it’s time to go home tomorrow if you’re exhausted and starved?”
I shrug, “I’ll be fine.”
My grandmother frowns at me. “No, I am not allowing this any longer Hayley. I understand how hard this week has been, trust me sweetheart I do, but Arianna needs her momma strong and healthy. She’s going to need you to take care of her and you can’t do that unless you’re taking care of yourself. Now, I’ve packed some clean clothes and you’re going to take a shower.”
“But - “
“But nothing,” my grandmother interrupts. “I’ll stay with Arianna while you get cleaned up and that’s the last I want to hear about it. Understood?”
Sighing, I stand up and reply, “Yes ma’am.”
My grandmother snickers behind me as I walk into the tiny en suite bathroom, mumbling “Crazy old lady,” when I think she’s out of earshot.
“I heard that!” she whisper-yells. I close the door and roll my eyes. My grandmother drives me crazy, but I love that woman more than I’d ever be able to put into words. Without her, I would not have made it through this week in one piece and not once did she tell me I was overreacting. She simply said it was ok for me to be scared and that most mothers’ ‘freaked out’ at least once with their first-born. At this rate, I have no intention of ever having another baby. Ari is enough.
I turn on the hot water and step into the bath/shower combo. The water hits my shoulders and for a few seconds I feel myself relax. I allow my mind to drift, away from the hospital, to a place where it’s quiet and peaceful. It doesn’t last long when unsolicited thoughts about Cameron and our date surface behind my closed eyelids. I’ve managed to keep my thoughts about him to an absolute minimum, putting all my focus and attention on Ari. But now and then they’d show up and I’d be in that kitchen on our first date all over again. Of course, the sting of his rejection and harsh words would follow soon after and the anger comes along with it. I chastise myself. How can I be mad when I expected him to react that way? Or maybe it was his words that left me feeling angry.
I wouldn’t have wasted my time…
For some stupid reason, I have been holding out hope that he’d call, to at least find out if I’m okay, but I guess our friendship also meant nothing. Or it was just a pretense, to get into my pants.
Should’ve seen that coming
I think to myself.
Boys like that don’t do relationships, unless they’re of the entirely sexual kind.
If I had met Cameron two years ago, I would probably play that game better than he does. But I’m not that girl anymore; I haven’t been for a long time. I hate admitting that it’s possibly better off this way but in hindsight I knew it was coming, and as fake as our friendship might’ve been, I wish there was still a way to have Cameron in my life. If friendship was all that we could’ve had, I would’ve taken it, gladly. But I suspect that’s gone now too.
I wash my hair, grateful that my grandmother remembered my shampoo, and start to feel a bit more like myself. I dry off quickly and throw on some clean skinny jeans, which are looser than they were before, with a white tank top. I pile my wet hair on top of my head, securing it with a headband. I stop short when I hear murmuring and I soft giggle coming from the other side of the door.
Stepping out, I see that both Hannah and Taylor, with Macy in tow, have stopped by to see Ari. They have visited every night this week. Hannah looks over at me and gives me a sad smile. I’m somewhat thankful that she knows about Ari, even though telling her proved to be harder than I anticipated. Not that I had much choice though. After I stopped answering her calls, she started showing up at my grandmothers’ house and after three days my grandmother finally caved and told her where to find me. She was surprised, and when I told her everything, I waited for her judgment and condemnation to surface. But it never came. Instead, she showed me what it means to have at rue friend, someone who will stick with you through the good, the bad and the scandalous. She also asked about my date with Cameron and after I filled her in, it took everything in me to convince her to leave it alone, rather than strangle Cameron the way she wanted to. But I couldn’t blame her. This was something she just couldn’t understand unless she was in my shoes.
I walk over to the bed and Ari’s eyes light up when she see’s me. My chest constricts and it feels like days since I last saw her, when in actual fact I haven’t left her bedside all week. I see a giant pink teddy bear sitting on the floor, with a giant gift basket of goodies, all for Ari. I look at Hannah and she shrugs, saying, “I couldn’t visit without bringing something for the patient. That’s rude.”
I chuckle. “Thank you, Han, but you’ve already done so much for me this week.”
It’s true. Hannah has been helping me stay up-to-date with all my classwork and assignments and spoke to all my professors about rescheduling a few tests.
“Oh please,” Hannah brushes me off. “That’s why you have me.”
“And me!” Taylor pipes up.
Macy yells, “And me!” and that has all of us giggling.
I slide past them and take a seat next to Ari on the bed, careful not to move around too much, and gently wrap my arms around her.
The door opens and I watch as Dr. Gates, Ari’s pediatric surgeon walks in.
“Good morning ladies,” he greets politely.
He stands at the end of Ari’s bed, making notes on his clipboard, and then smiles down at her. He’s a lot younger than I expected and far better looking than any other doctor I have ever seen, with his thick black hair, olive skin and dark brown eyes. I watch Taylor from the corner of my eye, and snicker. She’s flustered and totally beguiled by the good doctor. I’m tempted to tell her he had that affect on all of us, even my sixty five year old grandmother, but decide to wait until he’s left. I clear my throat and she whips he
r head back to me. Her cheeks flush crimson.
“How is my patient feeling today?” he asks Ari.
“Rough night,” I answer for her. “She didn’t sleep well.”
Dr. Gates frowns and makes notes again. He comes to stand on the other side of the bed, brushing past a still flustered Taylor, and moves to examine Ari’s cut. She squirms, trying to get away from him.
“It’s ok, Ari,” I reassure her. Her scared brown eyes meet mine and I give her a soft, comforting smile. “Dr. Gates just wants to make sure your tummy is getting better, ok? He won’t hurt you, I promise.”
Her little hands slide away from her stomach and Dr. Gates lifts her pajama top, going about examining her wound. He presses down and Ari flinches.
“Hmmm,” he says, scrubbing his chin. “It’s still quite tender, but that could be because we had a hard time getting her to keep still when she came out of surgery. I’ll give her something a little stronger for the pain, and something to help her sleep tonight, and then she should be okay to go home tomorrow. You’ve been shown how to clean the wound?”
I nod, remembering how I’ve been the only one, aside from Dr. Gates, who Ari has allowed near her stomach.
“Great,” he continues. “I will be back to check on you in the morning, Miss Arianna. And you ladies must enjoy the rest of your day.”
He looks at each of us, his gaze lingering a little longer on Taylor, and then promptly leaves the room.
Precious Consequences Page 8
