“You might, but does everyone else?” he asks sadly, glancing around at the students now filling the cafeteria. “I keep getting these accusatory, disappointed looks from everyone. That’s not me, Cam. I wouldn’t ever do that, especially to someone I—” He cuts himself off, pain and regret filling his eyes. We all know he liked Amalie, he made no secret of that fact. I think he was hopeful that she’d warm to him, but unfortunately for Shane she fell head over heels for the captain of his football team instead. I’m pretty sure that outcome didn’t feature in his plans whatsoever.
“Those who matter know it wasn’t you.”
“I feel like an outcast. No one wants me around anymore in case I’m a threat.”
My heart bleeds for him. Although he has a spot on the football team, Shane is one of us. He’s fought for years to be accepted by both parts of his world, but whoever it was that spiked Amalie’s drink and framed Shane has managed to shatter both in one fell swoop. I feel for the guy, I really do, but I’m not sure what to say other than to wait for someone else to do something that’ll take the heat off him, because this is high school: gossip only lasts for so long before someone trumps you and steals the limelight.
“They think I drugged her. That’s not going to go away easily. I’ll never be invited to a party again.”
“It’ll pass. Just focus on showing everyone how kind and caring you are and everyone will soon realize that you’re not capable.”
“Shane, my man. How’s it hanging?” Noah says, dropping down beside me. He doesn’t bother waiting for Shane’s response. Instead he pulls me into his side and slides his fingers into my hair so he can drag my lips to his. His kiss is over the top and excitable, and it puts me off even more than I was this morning when he kissed me.
“What’s up with you today? PMSing or something?”
“Yeah, something,” I mutter, turning back to my fries.
He nudges me in the arm. “Hey, I was only messing. Are you okay?” he whispers a little more softly, his hand sneaking around my back to wrap around my waist.
“I’m—” I don’t get to make my excuses because Shane cuts me off.
“I should go.” His voice is broken and defeated at best.
When I look up, I find him staring over my shoulder with sad eyes. Following his gaze, I find Amalie and Jake walking in, hand in hand. The entire room seems to fall silent for a second or two as their king and his queen arrives.
Jake Thorn was always Rosewood’s bad boy, but as I watch him pick up two trays, one for himself and another for Amalie, I wonder if we all hadn’t gotten him very wrong. He’s so sweet with her, like a totally different person to the Jake we’ve all seen over the past few years. They stand in line, their trays resting on the rail, and he wraps his arm around her waist, pulls her to him and kisses the top of her head. He lingers for a beat too long and I swear my heart nearly explodes on the spot. He’s fallen so hard for her, it really is a sight to behold. I also know from how she talks about him that he’s it for her. There’s absolutely no doubt in her mind.
Everyone’s chatter seems to start again, and I turn back to Shane who’s just about to push up from the bench he’s sitting on.
“Please stay.”
“No one wants me here, Camila. They don’t want me here.” He flicks his eyes to where the couple are waiting for their food.
“She knows it wasn’t you.”
“Doesn’t stop him wanting to take my teeth out... again,” he mutters.
“He had his pop at you. He’s moved on to other, more satisfying, things,” Noah helpfully adds while Shane visibly pales at the thought of what the girl he wanted is now up to.
“I’ll see you guys later.” Before we can argue, he’s gone, lost in the crowd.
I turn my eyes back to Amalie, who gives me a smile before returning to concentrate on whatever her boyfriend is saying.
Something twists uncomfortably inside me. Is that... jealousy? Why would I be jealous of Amalie and Jake? I’m sitting here with my boyfriend. I’ve got what they have, I’ve had it for quite a while now. Have you? a little voice in my head asks, but I push her away and turn to Noah. I smile at him, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. I fear Mason’s words might be making more of an impact than I want them to, and every time I look into Noah’s eyes, I wonder more and more if he is indeed hiding something.
* * *
The last thing I want to do when I get home is to have a heart to heart with my parents, but it seems I don’t get any reprieve because when I walk into the kitchen, they’re already sitting at the table waiting for me. The fact that my dad should be at work doesn’t even really register as I drop my bag and get myself a drink.
The atmosphere in the room is heavy as I make my way over to join them. The morose looks on their faces don’t help the ball of dread that’s sitting heavy in my stomach. Are they about to tell me they’re splitting up? No, surely not. They’re happy, right?
My mind runs a mile a minute as I wait for one of them to put me out of my misery.
“Darling, we need to discuss something with you,” Mom starts.
My heart pounds as I wait for her to ask me who I want to live with, as if I’d have that answer easily to hand, but when my dad takes over, it’s very different words that fall from his lips.
“Our office is closing.”
“Oh my god,” I gasp. I’m equally shocked and happy that they’re not separating. “I’m so sorry. You can get another job though, right?”
“That’s what we need to discuss.”
“Okaaaay.”
“The company is relocating everything to their main office in New York. So I’ve still got a job if I want it, it’s just—”
“In New York,” I say, guessing where this is going.
“Yeah.”
Anger burns within me that they’ve already made this decision. “So this isn’t a discussion, this is you telling me that we’re moving?” I snap, pushing the chair out behind me in frustration.
I’m in my senior year, they can’t just tell me they’re going to drag me halfway across the country and think I’ll be okay with it. And it’s not only school. What about my friends? What about Noah? What about Mason? a little voice adds, but I ignore her because I don’t give a fuck about him.
“Sit down please, Camila. That’s not what this is.” I look between the two of them. Both have encouraging expressions on their faces and I slowly lower myself back down, hoping they really have thought this through.
“We’re not expecting you to up and move to New York, sweetheart. Unless of course, that’s what you want. Your dad has been given a very generous offer for him to work four days a week and to commute, but before any decisions are made, we wanted to discuss it with you. We know this won’t affect your life like moving would, but we’re both very aware that it will disrupt your senior year and our priority, as ever, is your happiness and success.”
“Right, okay.” I sit back and let that sink in for a few seconds. “So, what happens if you turn down this offer?”
“Honestly,” Dad says with a sigh, “I have no idea. There’s nowhere close that does what I do. So right now I’m faced with the decision of travelling or changing my career.”
“Neither is an issue. We’ve got investments that we’re in the process of liquidating so that we have money should be need it. Money isn’t really the issue here, it’s more our happiness and our quality of life as a family.”
I nod, understanding where they’re coming from before I turn to look at my dad. “What do you want? Like, really want?” I know how much he loves his job. He’s a total IT geek and lives for everything computers.
“If I’m being really honest, and probably selfish then... I’d love to take their offer. Working in New York has always been a dream of mine and it will give me a lot more opportunities to climb the ladder. But the most important thing here is my girls. I need both of you to be happy no matter what.”
I hate to say it, but I refu
se to be the one to hold either of my parents back, especially because in less than a year I’ll be off at college somewhere. The thought has a ball of dread forming in my stomach because I’m still none the wiser as to what I want to study or where, but time is closing in on my decision. “Then you should do it.”
“But that would mean Dad wouldn’t be here most of the time, and if I’m also being honest, I don’t want to always be left behind. I’d really like to experience city life too.”
“I’m nearly eighteen. I’ll be at college soon without you both. I’m sure I can cope.”
Mom and Dad look between each other, a silent conversation happening in front of my eyes, but I have no idea what they’re saying.
Eventually Dad nods and they both turn to me. “We trust you, Camila, and we know that you’re more than capable of being alone sometimes. I won’t go all of the time, but I wanted you to be aware from the outset that I might not always be here like I have been.”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek to stop from saying that she’s not here all that often as it is. All the social events that she organizes have her out more than she’s in. I can’t remember the last Saturday night we all spent as a family.
“It’ll be fine. I want you guys to be happy. I’ll be too focused on school to notice.”
“Nice,” Dad says with a laugh. “Seriously though, I’m so proud of you, Camila.”
“Thanks. Are we done? It’s just, I’ve got homework to do.”
“We are. I need to pop out for a bit but then I’ll sort dinner when I get home, okay?” Mom says.
“Sure thing.”
After grabbing a fresh drink, I make my way up to my room and pull my books from my bag.
I stare down at the assignment I got from Miss Phillips and think about what I’d like to do.
10
Mason
All day I waited for someone to walk up to me and mention my job, but by the time the bell rang signaling the end of the day, no one had. After everything that I’ve done to Camila, I really thought she’d tell the entire school my little secret the first chance she got. I’m amazed that she hasn’t spilled.
She was angry with me this morning after what I did last night. Her dark eyes had a fire burning in them that I’ve never seen before as she stood in front of me with her hands on her hips. I can’t deny that her temper didn’t fire me up a little too. I remember all too well from when we were kids that she could have a temper if she wanted to. It wasn’t directed at me all that often, but when it was, I knew about it.
“What are you smiling about?” Jake asks when I join him in the locker room ready for practice.
“Oh, nothing.”
“You get a hand job during history or something?” Ethan adds. He really does have a one-track fucking mind.
“No, sadly not.” His words make me realize how long it’s been since I did receive that kind of attention. “Chance would be a fine thing.”
“You’re shitting me. You’ve seen the girls who drool after every step we take, right? Just look at one of them the right way and they’ll drop to their knees.”
“I’m well aware. But it’s not one of them I really want.”
“Oooh, does Mason have a little crush?” Ethan’s eyebrows wiggle in delight that he might be about to discover a secret.
“No. I just don’t want a cheerslut who’s already sucked on yours.”
“Why not? I’m clean.”
Rolling my eyes at him, I pull my locker open and start getting ready for practice. Truth is that just a few months ago I wasn’t really all that bothered about who was on the other end of my cock as long as they made me come at the end of it. They were the perfect distraction from my bullshit life. But as time goes on, I’ve realized that those experiences were pretty meaningless. It might make me sound like a pussy, at least it does in Ethan’s eyes, but I want more than a quick, dirty fuck with a girl who’s already done at least one lap of the team. I want... I want what Jake’s found with Amalie. I want someone who’s going to stand by my side despite what my life is, despite what my family situation is. I want someone I can rely on when times get hard, not just someone who turns up when they want something.
Practice is fucking killer. I swear we’ll all be broken by the time Friday night’s game comes around if Coach keeps up with this level of craziness.
I probably should have seen if I could snag an extra shift tonight, but knowing that I need to speak to Mom meant I didn’t pick up the phone and beg for extra hours. It’s coming though. I just know that Mom’s not going to be proactive as she should be about finding another job.
I’m proved correct when I pull up outside our house not long later to find her car parked in the driveway and then her sitting in front of the TV with a tub of ice cream in her lap. At least it’s an improvement on the vodka from last night.
“I see you’re busy looking for a way to pay the bills,” I mutter as I pass her heading to the kitchen. “We need to talk.”
A few months ago, when Mom’s hours were cut, I forced her to sit down with me so we could write down a list of all our expenses and the day each bill needed to be paid. It’s now pinned to the front of the refrigerator in the hope that seeing it might spur her into action. Clearly that was wishful thinking, seeing as she has no job whatsoever now.
I pull it from its clip and sit down at the breakfast bar with that and a can of soda praying I can figure out a way around all of this. I have a little bit of money in savings ready for college, but it’s nowhere near enough to keep us afloat until Mom gets off her ass and brings in some money.
“What are you doing now?” she mutters, eventually joining me in the kitchen.
“Trying to figure out a way to ensure we’re not evicted and forced to live on the streets.”
She lets out an amused sigh which only adds to my irritation levels. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not? We’ve got no way of paying all of this.” I wave the piece of paper in her face. “So why wouldn’t we be kicked out?”
“Just trust me, okay?”
“You’re fucking joking, right?”
She narrows her eyes at me before pulling the refrigerator open and reaching for a bottle of wine.
“So I’m assuming you haven’t got another job yet?”
“It’s only been a day, Mase. Calm down.”
“Calm down? Calm down? Am I the only one who cares about those two boys playing upstairs? Have you even fed them since they got home from school?” Guilt twists her face and I get my answer. “You’re meant to be our fucking mother. You should be the one worrying about paying the bills, about whether we all eat correctly or not. It is not my job to be their father,” I call when she decides she’d rather spend her evening alone with her bottle of wine. “Fucking waste of space,” I mutter, staring back down at the list of numbers.
Pinning it back up where I found it, I set about making dinner for myself and my brothers. If she doesn’t care enough to do it, then she can fend for herself. I’m not making her life even easier for her.
After making sure Charlie and Ollie have a bath, I leave them in their rooms with the understanding that they can play for another thirty minutes before they must be in bed. Thankfully, Ollie is a pretty responsible kid and I’m confident that when the time comes, he’ll ensure Charlie does as I said and climbs into bed. My blood boils that my seven-year-old little brother has to take on that kind of responsibility. But I can’t do everything myself. I need to keep my grades up if I have any hope of graduating and going to college. I also need to be out on that football field, but I fear that might have to go by the wayside if I need to pick up more hours to keep this roof over our heads.
Thankfully, it seems to have gone quiet down the hall. I get up to go and check on them but at the same time, there’s a knock at the front door. I turn to go and answer it but soon realize that I don’t need to, seeing as Mom’s footsteps sound out before female voices fill the air. The other
woman’s is one I recognize well. I’ve almost heard it as much as my own mother’s.
I should head back to my room and leave them to it, but my need for another drink gets the better of me and thank fuck it does because if I don’t overhear what I do, then fuck knows when Mom would ever have told me the truth.
“I’m really sorry to have to do this, Nicky, but we’re selling the house,” Mrs. Lopez says.
My spine immediately stiffens, but I stay out of sight. Sell the house? Why does she need to apologize for selling their house?
“What does that mean for us?”
“I don’t know, Nic. Do you have enough to rent somewhere else? I’m sure you could get something a little smaller that you could afford on your salary.”
Wait... what?
As I storm around the corner, both of them look up at me. Shock covers both of their faces that they’ve been caught.
“Oh, hello Mason. I didn’t realize you were home.”
Bullshit, seeing as my car’s parked in the drive.
“Cut the crap. What were you both just talking about?”
“It’s nothing, baby. Just go back to your homework.”
I’m already fighting the fury that’s filling my veins. The last thing I need is her patronizing tone, talking to me like a goddamn child.
“No, I think I need to hear this, seeing as I’m the only one bringing money into this house right now.”
Mrs. Lopez’s mouth drops open as she looks between the two of us.
“What happened to your job, Nic?”
“They let me go.”
Mrs. Lopez lets out an exasperated sigh. I’ve always wondered why these two are still friends. They’re polar opposites in every way, but even after everything that happened that ripped our family in two, they’re still as close as ever.
“Why didn’t you tell me that just then when we were discussing…” She trails off.
“Yeah, about that. Who owns this house, Mom?” She visibly pales before looking down at her feet. “Mom. Who owns this fucking house?”
PAINE: ROSEWOOD HIGH #2 Page 6
