Turning my back, I make it look like I’m busy stacking stuff behind the checkout as they pass, praying they don’t find what they came looking for and leave just as fast as they entered.
7
Camila
“Aces?” Amalie asks when she finds me after school.
“And here I was thinking you hated the place?”
“I did, when I hated Jake. Things change.” She shrugs. Yep, they sure do. And in the blink of an eye if you’re really unlucky. “I told him I’d meet him there after practice. Where’s Noah?” She looks around as if she’s expecting him to be following me.
“He’s got his computer club thing this afternoon.”
“Just the girls it is, then,” she says when Alyssa joins us.
“You still okay coming to that art shop with me later?” Alyssa asks me.
“Yeah, of course.” I plaster a smile on my face. In reality, I’d totally forgotten.
“Oh, art place?” Amalie asks, and the two of them start chatting away. Leaving them to it, I head toward my car and wait for them to join me.
“As long as Jake doesn’t have plans for me, I’ll come too.”
“Of course Jake will have plans for you,” I say with a wink in my rearview mirror as she settles in the back of my car after Alyssa calls shotgun. “When the trailer’s a rockin’.” Her cheeks flame red but her eyes widen in horror and my stomach drops.
“Trailer?” Alyssa asks, and I immediately feel awful. Amalie trusted me with that bit of information about Jake’s life that he keeps close to his chest.
“Yeah, it’s their little love shack. All sorts of unmentionable things go on in there.”
“Every Rosewood girl’s dream, time in a trailer alone with our star quarterback,” Alyssa swoons.
“I thought you were more of a basketball fan?”
“I am. Those guys are banging, but you can’t say you’d turn down one of the football team if you had half a chance.”
My mind wanders back to the bathroom earlier. Did I have half a chance? What would have happened if I closed that tiny amount of space between us?
“Hey, you okay?” Amalie asks, poking her head between the front seats. “You’ve turned as white as a sheet.”
“Yeah, I’m good.” She eyes me curiously. “You both know I’ve got more of a thing for the geeky guys. At least they’ve got a better reputation.”
“Do they?” Amalie whispers, sitting back and thankfully shutting the hell up. I don’t need everyone else judging Noah after Mason’s false accusations.
“You find out what the hell went down between Noah and Mason Saturday night?” Alyssa asks as if she can read my mind.
“It was just Mason being a dick,” I mutter, hoping she’ll change the subject and soon.
“Really? It didn’t look like he was playing around.”
“Who the hell knows with Mason these days. His mood changes with the wind.”
Alyssa accepts my comment and starts talking about some gossip she heard earlier. Thankful that the heat is off me, I focus on where I’m going and try to banish thoughts of Mason from my mind.
Alyssa and Amalie chat away, but I hear none of it. My mind is still in the girls’ bathroom with Mason’s dark eyes staring down at me. Taunting me.
Our usual table is free, and the second we’re seated the waitress comes over to take our order.
“These are on me,” Amalie announces. “I never really thanked you both for taking me in on my first day and not allowing me to be an outcast.”
“It was nothing,” I say, waving her off. “We should be thanking you. Our lives were pretty boring until you turned up.”
“I’m sure there are people who say otherwise.” Amalie turns toward the entrance where Chelsea and Tasha are walking through the doors, Tasha holding it open for her hobbling captain.
“Shouldn’t they be out on the field trying not to fall from the top of their pyramid?” Alyssa mutters, taking in their scantily clad bodies.
“Ignore her,” Amalie mutters when she notices me follow Tasha across the diner. “If you’re so adamant that Mason’s lying, there’s no need to drag her into the drama.”
Just before they get to their usual table, Tasha looks up and directly at me. If she’s surprised by my attention then she doesn’t show it. She gives me a wicked, fake smile and continues to their booth.
“What the hell’s her problem?” Alyssa spits.
“No idea,” Amalie responds, but she doesn’t take her eyes off me. The fact she doesn’t share the confidence I have in my boyfriend pisses me off. I’m just going to have to prove somehow that he’s only got eyes for me.
Three strawberry milkshakes are placed on our table and all conversation halts while we enjoy the creamy treat. I don’t care how old I get, I’m pretty sure I’ll always feel like a little girl while drinking one.
I relax with a full belly and enjoy some girl time. We chat about school, homework, last week’s Homecoming and upcoming parties.
“You’re coming to the game Friday night, right?” Amalie asks.
“Um…”
“Oh come on, Cami. You can’t let him stop you from enjoying yourself. You love football games.”
It’s not the game I enjoy so much as it is the atmosphere and knowing that I’m part of something. I’ve never really been one for group activities or sports, so I’ve never really got involved in any other way than supporting those who do.
“I’ll think about it,” I mutter, much to Amalie’s disappointment.
Of course I want to go. I love the buzz of game nights and I love supporting our team. Minus a certain number eleven, of course.
“Oh, here they come.”
Silence descends on Aces as most of the team comes barreling through the front doors. The Rosewood Bears are like royalty in this place. They all head in the direction Chelsea and Tasha went earlier and fill the diner with loud chatter and banter. It’s weird, but the place doesn’t feel right unless they’re here.
My eyes scan each of them as they walk past our table, giving us little to no attention until Jake and Ethan follow behind the rest of the team. But it’s just the two of them. Mason’s nowhere to be seen.
Unlike the others, they stop at our table. Jake drags Amalie from the booth and pulls her into his arms, his lips immediately seeking hers out. Ethan rolls his eyes at the pair of them before glancing at me and then turning his sights on Alyssa.
“Whatcha say, sweetcheeks.” He wiggles his eyebrows, much to Alyssa’s horror.
“I say no thanks, hotshot.”
“Aw come on, you know you want a piece of this.” He lifts his shirt, showing off his chiseled six pack, a smug grin on his face.
“Please tell me that move doesn’t work on the likes of them?” She flicks her eyes toward the huddle of cheerleaders, a disgusted scowl on her face.
“Them? Nah. One look in their direction and they’re begging for a ride.”
“Jesus,” Alyssa mutters, clearly unimpressed by both Ethan and the cheerleading team’s slutty ways. “And this is just one reason why I prefer basketball.”
Ethan’s hand comes up to cover his heart. “Ouch, you wound me. Actually wound me.”
“Oh, get over yourself. You ready to go?” she asks, turning to me.
“Sure. Can’t wait.” Alyssa rolls her eyes at me but doesn’t let me off the little trip I agreed to.
“You coming, or are you too busy sucking Jake’s face off?” she says with a laugh as she squeezes past the loved up couple.
“I’m coming. Just give me two minutes.”
“We’ll be in the car,” I call over my shoulder.
It takes almost ten minutes for Amalie to remove herself from Jake’s hold. We’ve just about given up on her when she appears through the doors.
“You’re just as bad as her with Noah, you know that right?” Alyssa says to Amalie when she gets into the car.
“You’re just jealous,” I call back.
“Yeah, and…?”
“Maybe you should have taken Ethan up on his offer. Bet he’d show you a good time.”
“After he’s already showed most of the female population at school one too? No thanks. Where was Shane? I expected him to show his face.”
He always used to. It was fairly standard that he wouldn’t arrive with the rest of the team, seeing as he makes no secret of the fact they’re not his friends, just teammates. But ever since Jake accused him of spiking Amalie’s drink, he’s kept his distance. Although, I’m with Amalie on this one; I’ve known Shane since we were little kids, and spiking someone’s drink isn’t really his style although I must admit that not showing his face does make him appear a little guilty.
I back out of the space as Alyssa puts the address into the GPS.
“You didn’t say we were going west.”
“I didn’t think it would matter. It’s not like we’re staying.”
“True,” I mutter. I just hate going to the west side of town. I know it’s probably stereotypical of me, but I feel like I’m going to be offered drugs or get mugged every time I go there.
Before I know it, I’m pulling my car to a stop in a dark and dingy looking parking lot behind a row of shops. I might offer to stay with it to ensure I keep all my wheels, but that would mean I’d have to stay here alone and there’s no way in hell that’s happening.
I rush to get out when the others do and double check I’ve locked it before walking away.
“You think you’re being a little paranoid?” Amalie asks.
“Have you heard any of the local news recently? This place is a ghetto.”
“Really?” she asks, one eyebrow raised in question. “It wasn’t that bad when Jake brought me here for breakfast.”
“I’m sure everything is a little less scary with Jake Thorn on your arm.” Alyssa laughs.
“Yeah... that could be it.” Amalie gets this far off, wistful look on her face which makes me want to puke. I’m starting to understand why she always used to complain about mine and Noah’s PDAs.
“This is it. You’re going to love it, it’s like Aladdin’s cave,” Alyssa says to Amalie as I follow behind, clutching my purse tighter to my body than necessary.
An hour. I’m dragged around a damn art shop for a whole hour while Alyssa and Amalie fill their baskets. The only good thing about the experience is that they had quite an extensive notebook section and I was able to feed my addiction.
“Can we run into the store? I promised Mom that I’d pick up a few things for her.”
We follow Alyssa across the road and around the discount food store while she selects what she needs. I don’t pay all that much attention to my surroundings until we head toward the checkout and Amalie elbows me in the ribs.
“What?” I snap, rubbing the sore spot.
She nods her head toward the register. I’m about to ask what the issue is when my legs stop working.
Standing behind the register dressed in a hideous yellow and green polo shirt is Mason.
“What the fuck is he doing here?” I whisper.
“Working, by the look of it,” Amalie adds helpfully, as if his uniform wasn’t a dead giveaway.
“Fuck, Alyssa’s…” I don’t finish my sentence. I don’t need to as both Amalie and I watch her walk up to him, much to his horror, and place her basket on the counter.
He’s frozen as he stares down at the items in front of him, but eventually, he must realize that no one else is going to ring it all up.
Blowing out a long breath, he reaches out and scans each item before dropping them into a bag. At no point does he look up and register that Amalie and I are standing here, but I have no doubt that he’s aware that Alyssa’s not alone.
Mason takes the cash for her purchases and all but shoves the change back at her before turning around and attempting to look busy. Unfortunately for him, it’s obvious to all of us that he’s not actually doing anything.
Alyssa looks over her shoulder at us, her brows drawn together in confusion, and together we follow her from the store.
No one says anything until we’re safely back inside my car, and even then it takes a few seconds for Amalie to break the silence.
“Well... that was weird.”
“Right?”
“Did you know he had a job over here?” Amalie asks, once again poking her head between the seats and looking at me.
“Me? Why the fuck would I know. He hasn’t spoken to me like a human being in four years.” I slam my lips shut, aware that I’ve said too much.
“Four years?”
“It’s nothing,” I say, trying not to make a big deal out of it.
“It’s really not, Cami. You were best friends. How do you go from that to nothing for four years?”
“Shit happens. You of all people should understand that. Things happen for a reason. I’m sure it’s better this way.”
“You really believe that?” Amalie’s voice is full of disbelief, and I can’t say I blame her.
I shrug. “What else is there to think?”
“He really didn’t want us to see him tonight, did he?” Alyssa chips in. “He looked seriously pissed to have been spotted.”
“Yeah. Probably best we keep this to ourselves.”
“And now you’re protecting him?” I should have known that Amalie would call me out on my bullshit.
“I don’t want any more drama than necessary. He’s clearly got a job on this side of town for a reason, so let’s just let it be.”
“Okay, whatever you want.” She sits back and thankfully ends the conversation.
It’s not until we’re approaching a burger place that Alyssa breaks the silence, suggesting we go and get something to eat. I can’t really say I’m feeling all that hungry after seeing Mason, but when Amalie agrees, I don’t have a lot of choice.
It’s later than I was expecting to be home when I let myself in through the front door. Kicking off my shoes, I walk through to the kitchen to grab a drink before heading up to do some homework. My parents are sitting at the dining table in silence, both looking stressed as they turn to me.
“Sorry I’m late. I went to an art shop with Alyssa and Amalie and then for food. Are you both okay?” I ask hesitantly, taking in their deep frown lines.
“Uh... yeah. We were just hoping you’d have been home before now. We need to discuss something with you.”
“Is it urgent? Because I really need to complete my English assignment for tomorrow.”
They both glance at each other before Dad nods and turns to me. “Not at all, sweetheart. You do what you need to do and we’ll all have dinner together tomorrow night. How does that sound?”
“Sounds great.” I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator and head for the stairs.
“Why did you put it off?” I hear Mom snap.
“School’s more important.”
Mom scoffs. Now I’m desperate to know what’s going on but equally afraid to find out. It didn’t look like they had happy news.
8
Mason
Angry doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel as I watch the three of them walk out of the store. I got a job in this part of town for a very good reason, so the fact they’ve just found me pisses me off more than I’m willing to admit. My life is one big series of fuck ups and the fact I even need to be working this shitty job is just another one, but it’s the only place I could find that would be flexible enough for me to work around school and football games.
It’s almost midnight when I eventually pull up at home. The lights are all out aside from the living room, where I’m assuming tonight’s babysitter is currently hanging out, waiting for either Mom or I to appear. But to my surprise when I get there to let them off for the night, the person I find laid out on the sofa with a bottle of vodka in their hand is none other than my mother. She shouldn’t be here yet. Her shift at the bar doesn’t finish until two AM.
“Mom,” I shout, louder than ne
cessary seeing as she’s asleep. I have no qualms about waking her. She sleeps most of the day and does whatever the fuck she likes whenever she feels like it.
“Shit, fuck. Yeah, what is it?” she asks in a panic, sitting up and pulling the bottle to her chest protectively.
“It’s all right, I’m not going to fucking steal it. Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“I... uh... got laid off.”
“I’m sorry, you fucking what?” Red hot fury explodes through my body. She only works a handful of shifts each week as it is. She needs to be picking up more hours to support her kids, not losing her fucking job.
“It’s a total misunderstanding. I didn’t steal anything.”
Rolling my eyes, I take a step from the room. “You’re a fucking joke,” I spit over my shoulder. “How about you lay off that bottle so you’re sober enough to find a new job in the morning, eh?”
I take the stairs two at a time as I head for the safety of my room. Of course, I stop to make sure my brothers are sleeping soundly before I shut myself away. I’d put money on the fact she didn’t do the same when she got home. The only thing she wants to ensure is okay is her fucking vodka.
I crack my knuckles as I walk through my bedroom door in an attempt to release some of the frustration that’s pulling at my muscles. It does fuck all to help, but the sound is somewhat soothing. I could really do with hurting someone right about now. I picture the terror on Noah’s face as I drove my fist into it on Saturday night and something inside me settles just a little bit. That is until the image of who I was misguidedly doing it for pops into my mind.
“Fuck.” Rubbing my hand down my face, I scratch at my rough jaw as I think back to her finding me in Price Chop earlier. I’ve gone out of my way to hide my reality since the day my dad walked out and I was forced to step up to the plate.
Without thinking, I rip my curtains open and stare down the street. Her curtains might be closed, but there’s an obvious light shining behind them. She’s awake. That’s all the invitation I need.
PAINE: ROSEWOOD HIGH #2 Page 4
