The F Word (Redefining Me #1)

by Michelle MacQueen

  “I’m sorry you were injured, Cam. I am. It sucks. I’m sorry your parents are dicks and that your homecoming has been…not great. But you know what? It’s a leg. Just flesh. You got a replacement. And running… I know you could still do it if you wanted. You lost your dream. Again, so what? None of that matters!” She sighed, the tension leaving her shoulders.

  “We are what matters. Not our legs or any other physical thing we could lose. Pey lost herself when Coop died and Julian left. She lost you. That’s worse than any leg. I’ve watched that girl be in love with you the entire time I’ve known her. And yet, you’ve made her feel unlovable.” A tear slid down her cheek. “How could you do that, Cam? After everything that’s been taken from you, how could you give away the one thing that was irreplaceable?”

  She turned to trudge back up the hill and paused. “Peyton won’t care about the leg, Cam. It doesn’t make you damaged. It doesn’t change who you were before. I hope you can find him, the Cam we all knew. When you do, please bring Peyton back to us. We all need her. Not everyone sees that. Coop is gone. Julian is…something else. Avery blames all of us. And Addison… Something happened to her that night to take her from us too. Peyton is the glue, or the metal, used to fill the holes on our cracked surface. And you… You’re the crazy old guy on the beach with a metal detector, trying to find the treasure that’s been buried in the sand.”

  She turned her head to meet his eyes and smirked.

  Cam couldn’t help his smile. “Crazy old guy on the beach, huh?”

  She nodded. “Completely crazy. But you’ll find her. You always do.” She climbed the rest of the way up the path to her car.

  Cam sat back down on the bench, Nari’s words rolling around in his mind. She was usually the quietest among them, the self-proclaimed nerd of the group. But maybe she saved her words for just when they needed to hear them. She’d done it before on the night of the accident. She’d said the words that gave him the courage to face his feelings for Peyton.

  It doesn’t make you damaged. It doesn’t change who you were before.

  He fumbled open Peyton’s box, pulling out the envelope marked “Us.”

  The note he chose was longer than the rest. Peyton’s words rolled off the paper, cloaking him in their memories.

  Do you remember when we were kids? We thought nothing could ever hurt us. We were wrong. But every time I hurt, Cam, you’re there. No matter what happens, we’ll always be there for each other.

  “No matter what happens,” he whispered, folding the note and slipping it into his pocket. Nari was right. Cam’s leg wouldn’t change the way Peyton saw him. She was better than that.

  He had to tell her before she found out some other way.

  Could he fix them before it was too late?

  9

  Peyton

  ~ Peyton,

  You’re going to be okay without me. You have to be.

  Cam ~

  “Listen to this one,” Katie said.

  “The pursuit of perfection is an illusion none of us will ever attain. No matter how thin, pretty, or rich we are there will always be something society tells us isn’t good enough—something we’re supposed to be ashamed about.

  Two days ago at lunch, one of my ‘friends’ said she’d rather kill herself than be fat—and she looked right at me when she said it, like I should take her advice! Luckily I’m strong enough not to care what she says, but there are plenty of girls out there who would let a comment like that affect them.

  But you know what’s sad? According to my doctor I am at the perfect weight for my height and age. I’m a healthy weight and I have people telling me I should kill myself for being fat? Is that really what our reality is like? Why do we do this to each other?”

  @Healthy&HappySoLeaveMeAlone

  “Yes! That’s so perfect,” Peyton said. “I need to pull that quote for the project portfolio.”

  “You’re so going to win this scholarship, Peyton,” Katie said.

  “I can’t believe people at our school are really using my app. I kinda thought the initial interest would fade after a few weeks.”

  “Now that we’re back at school, No BS is even more popular.” Katie tapped a few more keys on her computer, checking the latest app activity. “I’m kind of obsessed with it myself.” She laughed. “I check it all the time.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you and your mom’s help,” Peyton said. “I wish I could pay your mom for all the work she’s done helping me get the security system in place. No BS would never work if we couldn’t guarantee absolute anonymity to our users, or at least work toward that. And I would have fallen flat on my face without your mad coding skills.”

  “We make a good team,” Katie said. “I don’t have the creativity to do what you’ve done with the app. It’s really amazing, Peyton. I’m thrilled to be a part of it behind the scenes.”

  “I wish there was a scholarship in it for you too.” Peyton felt bad that Katie had spent so much time volunteering to help with Peyton’s summer project when there wasn’t much in it for her. The grand prize was a full ride to Peyton’s choice of STEM-focused universities. Peyton had a talent for coding, but there were some aspects she was still learning. That was where Katie’s mom swooped in and saved the day.

  “I’m happy to help. It’s so rewarding to see so many people dealing with the same issues and coming together on this app to support each other. It’s phenomenal.”

  “It really has opened my eyes in a way I never expected,” Peyton admitted. “When I started planning No BS, I had girls like me in mind. The fat girls who never get a voice. Do you know how hard it is to listen to people ridicule a girl with a weight problem and then watch her brush it off like it’s no big deal because she’s really not allowed to defend herself. Girls like me see that harsh judgment in everyone’s eyes wherever we go, but our bodies are all anyone ever sees. People don’t see my GPA or how I speak two languages and can code circles around our STEM team. They don’t see how kind I am or how creative I am. They don’t see the things that make me the person I am. All they see is the imperfection I wear for the world to see every day of my life. Other people can hide their imperfections, but fat girls don’t get that luxury. So, I made No Body Shame to give them a small community where they could vocalize their deepest hurts and fears to like-minded listeners. But then I discovered this whole other world of secret hurts and shames that we all deal with no matter how big or small, and I realized No BS was for a much larger community.”

  “I’m glad you opened it to the whole school and not just a beta group.” Katie started packing her things. “It’s opened my eyes too. I always thought I was alone in my struggles. Few people give the weird girl with the odd fashion sense much credit either. I’m easy to mock, and I know it. I used to think I should conform just to get the targets off my back. I tried for a little while in ninth grade, but I hated me, and everyone else was just as indifferent as ever.” She shrugged. “So I promised myself that I would just let my freak flag fly and be happy with who I am. Having No BS has shown me there are plenty of other weirdos out there who feel the same way. I’ve made a few new friends on the app, and we’ve even met IRL, and it’s been great. Your app gave me the kind of friends I never thought I’d have. And that includes you.” Katie leaned in to give Peyton a hug. “You deserve whatever good things come from No BS. I can’t imagine you won’t win. No Body Shame is exactly the kind of online social experiment the competition was made for. You’ve got this in the bag, Peyton.”

  “We’ll see.” Peyton sighed. “The final submissions are due this week, and I’m so nervous!”

  “When will you find out if you won?”

  “The grand prize will be awarded right before the holidays.” And that was the reason Peyton had entered in the first place. No matter how small her chances were, if she made it all the way, she could count on having a great distraction during the worst time of year for her and her family. And if she actually won, t
hen this time next year she would be far, far away from Twin Rivers and all its bad memories.

  “I’ll have my fingers crossed for you,” Katie said as she left.

  Peyton sat at her laptop, engrossed in the No BS comments from the past few days. She attempted to respond to everyone, but the more popular the app got, the harder it was for her to keep up.

  Her STEM studies teacher, Mr. Hale, was really impressed with her project and wanted to present it to the state school board after the winners were announced. He thought the app should be available statewide to all public schools. Peyton smiled at the very idea of so many schools participating in something she created.

  “I had an argument with my best friend over a stupid dress! She borrowed my favorite dress for a date she was really excited about. But she’s way more chesty than I am and accidentally split the bust seam. I was upset, and I called her a fat slut, like just because she has big boobs that automatically makes her a slut? I don’t even know why I said that! What’s wrong with me? How do I fix this?”

  @GirlsBeKindToGirls

  @GirlsBeKindToGirls, Unfortunately us girls have inherited some bad habits from previous generations. Somehow the busty girl is supposed to be the slut and the mean girl has to be mean in order to stay on top of the rest of us, the girl with glasses is always the smarty pants nerd and the cheerleader is the snobby rich girl. It’s like we’re programmed to think this way and make these snap judgments that have no real basis in truth. We have got to be the generation that stops this madness.

  If she’s really your best friend, she will forgive you. True best friends forgive and forget—no matter what. But you’ve got to own up to your mistakes and really talk about what you said and why you said it. Talk it out with your friend and then make a No BS pact to never body shame each other again.

  Best of luck

  @CupcakesAreMyNemesis, @NoBSmod

  Peyton clicked send before her own words really resonated with her. True best friends forgive and forget—no matter what. Did that include surviving the death of a brother and the disappearance of said friend? Since his return, Peyton had avoided Cameron as much as possible. Facing him, facing everything that had happened, was just too much. But what kind of friend was she if she didn’t give their friendship a chance? Didn’t give Cam a chance? She’d gained weight since that night, and she hated herself for it, but the Cameron she knew would never judge her. He was better than that.

  10

  Cameron

  ~ Cam,

  Do you remember when we were kids?

  We thought nothing could ever hurt us.

  We were wrong.

  Peyton ~

  Son, we think you need to see a shrink. Of course, because his father would only use the term that belittles their profession. It was how he operated. The appointment must have been his mother’s idea. His father was more of the “man up” kind of guy.

  Cam let the appointment card fall into the trash can. He’d seen a psychiatrist during his entire stay at the Emerson facility. They’d claimed it was necessary for his recovery. Maybe it had been, but all he remembered about it was sitting in front of a complete stranger being asked to spill his innermost thoughts. He’d never even been someone who’d shared how he felt with the people he trusted.

  He replaced the appointment card that had been in his hand with another one of Peyton’s notes.

  Potato Pancakes.

  Just two words and Peyton could help him forget about another crummy conversation with his parents. Potato Pancakes.

  During freshman year, Peyton’s mother was hospitalized with exhaustion. Peyton’s father wouldn’t leave the hospital, which meant the diner either had to close or be run by four teenagers.

  Mrs. Callahan told them to close the doors and turn customers away. She even called the cook herself and told him not to come in. But, Peyton, being Peyton, decided they could handle it. She enlisted Cam to help her cook while Cooper and Julian waited tables.

  It wasn’t until they got there that she learned the only thing Cam knew how to cook was a potato pancake recipe his grandma taught him. She didn’t panic though. She still trusted him in the kitchen more than her brothers. So, she put out a sign that called it potato pancake day.

  The four of them perfected the pancake flip—sending a potato pancake flying from the griddle to a plate held by one of the twins. They were such a hit Mrs. Callahan had them do it again the next year. She also made them clean every inch of that kitchen for disobeying her order to close.

  He read the note again. Potato pancakes. The memory of the four of them together put a huge smile on his face.

  Who needed therapy when they had Peyton?

  But he didn’t have Peyton. Not quite. He wanted her back, like they used to be. Lazy weekends in the diner. Hanging out by the river. Support. Friendship. How could he have given all of that up?

  He shook his head and walked across the track to where his second-favorite girl sat next to the bleachers. He dropped onto the seat beside her and looked over her shoulder at her phone.

  “What’s up, Care Bear?”

  She shoved her phone in her pocket as if he’d caught her doing something she shouldn’t be doing. She looked sideways at him. “Cam Jam.”

  He raised an eyebrow, but she only shrugged. “Trying it out.”

  “What were you reading?” He nodded to where her phone stuck out of her pocket. It lit up with a new notification.

  “Nothing.” She spoke too quickly.

  For once, Cam wasn’t the one hiding something, and he enjoyed the feeling. “Was it a boy, Cara?” He suppressed a grin.

  “Ugh. Gross.” She screwed up her face. “Like I want to go anywhere near a smelly creature like you.” Her cheeks blazed red.

  A few months before he left, Coach Jas pulled him aside and told him he worried Cara had a crush. He’d wanted Cam to be careful with her feelings. Coach hadn’t needed to worry. Cam wasn’t like the other jerks on the team who ignored the kid tagging along. He liked her. But coach had been wrong about the crush. She’d only wanted a friend. Cam recognized that now because the same loneliness existed in him as well.

  He wished he’d seen it at the time.

  She studied him for a moment then let out a sigh. “You really want to know?”

  He gripped the arm of her wheelchair. “Only if you want to tell me.”

  She lifted her eyes to the gray afternoon sky. It was only a matter of time before rain overtook their Saturday. “Fine.” She pulled her phone free and unlocked the screen before handing it to him.

  Cam could feel Coach Jas’s eyes on them as they talked. It wasn’t unusual for the team to have Saturday practices on off weeks when there wasn’t a meet. None of the runners paid them any mind.

  His eyes fell onto the logo at the top of the screen. “No BS. What’s this?”

  “No Body Shame.” She clutched her hands in her lap. “It’s supposed to only be for the high school but all the kids at the lower school have found a way to download the app.”

  He scanned the paragraphs of text, each attributed to a different screen name.

  Sometimes, when they tell me I should hate the hijab on my head, I believe them.

  @BeingDifferentSucks

  Why can’t I look like everyone else? Nothing works to stop the breakouts. I don’t blame them. I don’t want to look at my face either. Their words hurt, but they’re nothing I haven’t said to myself a thousand times.

  @HidingInTheShadows

  Cam scrunched his brow. “Care Bear.” He rubbed the ridge of his nose and scrolled down.

  Damaged. That’s what they tell me I am. And they’re right. I am broken. My body doesn’t work the same way as anyone else’s. I can’t even walk without having trouble. There are times when I can’t get a single one of my muscles to work. I fell down a packed stairwell last week. And the sad thing is that isn’t even the most embarrassing thing that has happened to me because of this stupid illness.

  @The
BrokenDoll

  When Cam let the phone fall into Cara’s lap, she touched his arm.

  “How…” He shook his head. “I’ve never seen this app before.”

  “It’s new. Apparently created by a senior. No one knows who. I heard some of the team talking about it. Everything on it is anonymous. Cam…”

  He met her soft brown eyes. “Yeah, Care?”

  “Can you tell me the truth?”

  “About what?”

  She let out an exasperated breath. “About you. You come back after a year and a half and claim to have been training for the Olympics, yet something isn’t right. I saw you run. Your gait is off. Most people don’t have a near perfect stride, but you did. Something changed that. And you’re slow. Like, ungodly slow. The Cam I knew would never have let himself run like crap.”

  Cam sat back. “You’re ten. You shouldn’t be able to see all of this.”

  She tore her eyes from his. “Eleven, actually. You’d know that if you’d been here.”

  Cara had always been like the little sister Cam never had, and he suddenly needed someone to get him, to know what he was going through, and tell him it was okay to deal with it in his own way. She was a kid but more perceptive than any adult he knew. There was no curiosity in her gaze. She wasn’t a gossip who wanted to know the latest news. She was worried.

  He pushed himself from the bleachers, feeling Peyton’s note still in the palm of his hand. Potato Pancakes. A time when he’d been happy, content. He wanted that again, and the first step was telling someone, anyone, what had happened to him. Facing his greatest fear.

  “Can you come with me?” he asked.

  Cara nodded. “Sure, Cam Jam.”