“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” And exactly why I wanted to choose my words carefully. “You’re both incredible parents. I’m lucky to have you.” That’s been proven so much more obvious as I’ve learned of Amalie and Jake’s reality. I really am lucky to have two supportive parents who just want the best for me.
“Aw, Cami-bear.” My heart twists at the nickname Mason made up for me back in the day that my mom picked up somewhere along the way. “Anyway, you’re not going to be totally alone while we’re gone.” She glances at me nervously and I lift a brow at her, waiting for her to spill the beans, although from the glint in her eye, I don’t think I’m going to like it. “It’s just temporary, but the Paines are moving in. Just until they get themselves sorted,” she rushes to add.
“No, no, no,” I say, getting up from the bed and pacing in front of her. “I can’t live with them... with him.”
“Camila, I know it’s not ideal but we’re having to sell their house and I kind of sprung it on them, so it’s only fair we help out where we can.”
“Wait, you’re selling their house?” Confusion mixes with my anger and I come to a stop in front of her.
“We bought it as an investment property when things got tough for Nicky when David left.”
“Wow,” I breathe. I really didn’t see this coming. “So why can’t they just go and rent somewhere else?” I spit, not wanting to have to deal with Mason on a daily basis.
Mom’s face drops and I fear there’s a lot more to this than she’s letting on, or that she even knows. The image of Mason in his Price Chop uniform floats back into my mind. He was mortified at being discovered. I guess their issues run deeper than being abandoned by David after he lost his job. Suddenly his school night drinking session last night makes a little more sense. Is that how he decided to deal with this?
I shouldn’t feel any sympathy for him. I don’t want him here… I think. But knowing that his family is falling apart does tug at my heartstrings a little.
“They don’t have anything, sweetheart. I’m pretty sure I speak for Nicky when I say that they’d rather not move into our house. But sometimes life just gets too tough and we all need to do things that we’d rather not.”
“I get that, Mom. I do. And I’m all for helping out in their time of need but—”
“Mason,” she finishes for me. “I can assure you that he wasn’t all that thrilled by the idea either. That boy is so different to the sweet one we used to know. I don’t expect him to cause you any issues, he wants to be here even less than you want him here.”
“Not sure that’s possible,” I mumble. Falling down on the edge of my bed, my head falls back as I try to process all of this.
“Who knows,” she says, staring off into space. “You might even find a way to rekindle your friendship.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Really un-fucking-likely, but I refrain from telling her that when she’s got that twinkle of hope in her eye.
“You two were so sweet as kids. I really thought he’d end up being my son-in-law one day.”
Me and you both.
“When are they moving in?”
“They’re going to move stuff over the next few days with the intention of being in completely over the weekend. We’ve got builders starting renovations next week.”
“Does it need a lot of work?” I ask. My memories of the place are that it wasn’t all that different from this house. Warm, cozy, welcoming. But I guess that was a while ago.
“It just needs a little TLC. We’ll have it on the market in no time and the money should help if your dad’s job doesn’t go as he’s hoping.”
I nod, because what else can I do? This decision has already been made, and me kicking up a fuss right now isn’t going to change anything. They’re probably all over there now packing up all their stuff ready for the big move.
A large ball of dread sits in the pit of my stomach. It’s hard enough seeing Mason at school every day and wondering what the hell’s going to come out of his mouth every time I pass him in the hall. What’s it going to be like with him down the hall in my home?
Disaster.
It’s the only thing it can be.
“I’m sorry to spring this on you. I know it’s less than ideal, but everything will work out.” She taps my thigh and stands. “Dinner will be about thirty minutes, sweetie. Do you need help with anything?” She glances at my books spread out across my desk.
“No, I’m good. I’ve got a report to start.”
“Okay.” She gets up and walks to the door, leaving me standing like a lost sheep in the middle of my room. “Everything will work out for the best, Cami. Everything happens for a reason, right?”
That’s her little motto. And I must say that I’m usually happy to go along with it. But right now, I can see absolutely no good reason for Mason and me living under the same roof. It’s got disaster and pain written all over it.
She closes the door behind her, and after blowing out a very long, frustrated breath I fall down onto my chair. I stare at my diary but no thoughts of what I might write fill my mind. I’m too lost to my memories.
We were nine, maybe ten. My parents had gone away for the weekend to celebrate their wedding anniversary. The Paines had agreed that they’d look after me so they could have an adults only weekend. I was buzzing as I packed my small bag and tucked my pillow and teddy bear under my arm, ready to walk down to their house. It wasn’t the first time Mason and I had had a sleepover, but it was the first time we were allowed to be left alone for a few hours and to order in our dinner. It felt so grown up and my innocent mind wanted to pretend we were practicing for the future when we might have a house of our own and order takeout every night of the week.
His mom and dad were just going out for dinner. I think they were testing us to see if we could actually be left behind, but neither of us cared. We had the whole house to ourselves, free rein on the takeout menus and a stack of DVDs to get through.
There had been a storm warning all week, but we have yet to see any of it, and it was looking like it was starting to veer away from us, so no one thought any of it. We’d eaten our body weight in Chinese takeout and downed enough soda to rot every single one of our teeth, but we were on top of the freaking world as we ran around the house, dancing to music louder than we were usually allowed and just generally being crazy kids. It was incredible.
Until that storm hit.
Mason’s parents were still out as the wind started roaring through the trees outside, some of the branches hitting the windows, making harrowing noises. The rain lashed down and from our seats on his couch we watched as it bounced off the ground outside. It was fine. We were in the house. We were safe and we were together. Then the lights went out.
I hate the dark. I always have. But being in the dark during a storm is so much worse. My heart was racing, my palms were sweating as I sat trembling beside Mason, who was vaguely aware of my fear seeing as he knew that I slept with a night light, but he had no idea the severity of it. The wind blew stronger, and noises that I was unable to identify sounded around us. We had no idea if the house was about to collapse on us or if some madman was about to crash through the front door and tear us limb from limb. I knew the thoughts were irrational, but the second darkness falls around me, even now, I’m frozen with fear as all these crazy images about what could happen to me fill my mind.
“I can’t find the flashlight,” Mason admitted after a quick search of the usual places.
“Candles?” I whimpered. I needed anything to cast a little light in the house, anything that could stop me falling headfirst into a debilitating panic attack.
“I don’t know where the matches are.”
“I’m scared,” I admitted in a soft voice.
The next second, there he was, his body pressed up against mine, his arm around my shoulder.
“It’ll be okay, Cami-bear. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll always keep you safe.”
He held me until the lights eventually flic
kered back on. I have no idea how long we were in darkness for but thankfully the storm passed and his parents were able to make it home. The house didn’t crumble around us and no one tried to kill us, but even to this day, being in the dark terrifies me. Those exact thoughts still haunt me. But that night, he made it all better. He distracted me with his warmth, kind words, and endless support.
I wonder what happened to that boy? I think as I stare out the window at his—my parents’—house. Is he still in there or has he been banished for good? His curtains are shut like always. It’ll be weird to see them open again when someone else moves in.
“Dinner,” Mom calls and I’m forced to abandon my pathetic attempt at starting my homework in favor of her tacos. It’s no secret that they’re my favorite and I wonder if she’s done them tonight to soften the blow of the news about our new lodgers.
12
Mason
Mom’s weirdly organized for this move. I wish she was as proactive about getting a fucking job, but as I arrive home from work late that night there seem to be boxes everywhere. This is the only house I’ve ever known. It’s going to be weird walking away. I’ve got so many memories here, although not all of them good. Maybe a fresh start wouldn’t be a bad thing. There’s still evidence of my dad in the fabric of this building; maybe being away from that will have a positive influence on Mom. It’s a long shot, but I can only hope. I worry that the reason she’s so excited to move down the street is that she’s expecting to have a few more babysitters for the kids she should be looking after. She’s going to be seriously pissed off because it sounds like Gabriella and Clint are going to be spending most of their time in New York. I hope that doesn’t mean she’s going to expect Camila to pick up the slack in her childcare. I don’t really want my brothers getting too attached to her.
“Can you make a start on your bedroom please, Mase?” Mom says when she sees me standing in the kitchen doorway watching her box up plates.
“Sure. What are you doing with all that?”
“Clint said we could store this kind of stuff and any furniture we want to keep in their garage.”
“That was nice of him,” I mutter, but she still hears it.
“Can you promise me something?”
“That all depends on what it is.” Pulling the refrigerator open, I find a bottle of water and twist the top.
“Can you please be nice to them? They’re doing us a huge favor... they’ve done us a huge favor. If they didn’t buy this place after your dad walked out, then I have no idea what we’d have done.”
“They only did it out of guilt.”
“No, they didn’t. They did it because they are nice, honest people. Mason,” she says on a sigh, placing a bowl down and turning toward me. My breath catches because she looks more like the mom I remember than I’ve seen in years. “You need to stop blaming them for what happened. It was your dad who fucked up. He deserved to be caught and to be laid off.”
“I don’t disagree, Mom. It was just the way it was done. They went behind his back. That didn’t need to happen. If they were more considerate about it all then he might still be here. This might not be happening right now.” I wave my arm around at all the boxes.
“We’re better off without him. He’d have ruined us no matter what.”
“You really believe that?” She makes it out like it was all his fault. She seems to forget that the final nail in the coffin for Dad firmly rests on her shoulders.
“I do. Your childhood memories of him aren’t the man he was.”
I don’t believe a word she says. My dad was a good man until everything went to shit. Okay, so he didn’t have to leave, but Mom didn’t give him much choice in the end.
When I allow myself to think of him, I see afternoons on a football field as he supported me either from the sidelines, out in the garden as he helped me practice plays, or on the computer as he taught me how to play games and baffled me with his tech knowledge that I didn’t have a chance in hell of understanding, but it was what made him tick.
Leaving Mom behind with a couple of flat boxes in my hand, I head to my room. My entire childhood—my life—is in this one room. The thought of packing it all into the boxes propped up against the wall fills me with dread, although not as much dread as the prospect of where we’re going to be moving to.
Falling down on my bed, I make the mistake of closing my eyes.
The next thing I know, the sun’s pouring in around the edges of my curtains and my alarm is blaring loudly next to me.
Sitting up, I realize that I’m still in my Price Chop uniform and the boxes I left by the door are still there waiting to be filled.
“Fuck,” I shout, dropping my head into my hands and scrubbing them down my face.
I’m fucking exhausted, but I can’t see it getting better anytime soon. Heather was reluctant, but she agreed to let me pick up shifts at the store every day after school until closing. I promised her it was going to be a short term thing until I could get enough cash together to at least give us a deposit on a place. I refuse to allow my brothers to live in someone else’s house because their parents are fuck-ups for too long.
Coach was less than pleased when I went to his office yesterday morning to explain that I was having to step down from the team. He was rightly concerned. He knows as well as I do that my only shot at college next year is a football scholarship, but what choice do I have? My family has to come first. I can always go to college in the future, but my brothers will never get a second chance at their childhood.
Ignoring the boxes, I drag my weary body toward the shower and start getting ready for another long ass day where I’ve not done the homework that’s going to be expected of me and I work in a shitty discount store until I can’t put one foot in front of the other.
Mom’s nowhere to be seen when I eventually get downstairs with both Charlie and Ollie in tow. Thankfully, Ollie has a friend in the next street whose Mom picks them both up to take them to school. I have no idea how I’d cope if I had to do more than get them up and dressed.
“Good morning, my gorgeous boys.”
“Mom? What are you doing up?”
“Don’t looked so shocked, Mase. I am capable of getting up and making my boys breakfast.”
“Really?”
Her eyebrows almost hit her hairline, although I have no idea why she’s surprised. I can’t remember the last time I saw her this side of midday. I know she worked late, but I’m sure there are other parents out there who do nights and still manage to be a parent.
“I thought I’d take my little men to school today.”
A look passes between Ollie and Charlie. They look anything but pleased. What I wouldn’t give to know what they’re thinking right now.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Richmond can take us.”
Mom pales. “Oh, okay. Well, I’d like to pick you up.”
Ollie blows out a frustrated breath, but he doesn’t refuse.
I have no idea what she’s up to, but quite frankly I don’t have the time to sit around to find out. “Well, if you’re making these guys breakfast, I’m going to head out.”
Playing happy families was not on my to do list today. If I can get into school early, maybe I can hit the library and attempt to do some of the homework most other kids will manage while I’m working my ass off.
* * *
“What the fuck’s going on?” Jake demands when he falls down into his seat in History later that morning. Our teacher is standing at the front of the class ready to start, but in true Jake Thorn style, he doesn’t give a shit and stares me down until he gets the answers he wants.
“Not now,” I mutter, knowing we’re going to have people listening around us.
“Yes. Right fucking now. Let’s go.”
He’s up and out of his chair with his bag over his shoulder waiting for me while Miss White’s face turns beet red in frustration.
“Mason and I have another engagement,” he barks as he all but pushes
me through the doorway and away from our bewildered teacher.
“We can’t just walk out.”
“Why the fuck not? You can’t tell me you actually wanted to be sitting in there.” I open my mouth to respond, but I don’t really have an argument. Where I really want to be is in bed sleeping, but knowing my luck, it’s probably already been moved into the Lopezes’ garage.
Silence hangs heavy between us as we walk out toward the field. The stadium’s deserted and I realize that was Jake’s plan. To get me alone and get the truth out of me.
“Coach said you’d bailed on the team. What the fuck don’t I know, Mase? I know I’ve been spending more time with Brit but fuck, man. If you need me, you know where I am.”
I blow out a long breath, turning away from his assessing blue eyes and stare across the field.
“Everything’s fucked up. Mom’s lost her job. The Lopezes own our house and are selling it, and with no other fucking option we’re all moving in with them.”
Jake doesn’t respond immediately, and when I turn to him, he’s sitting with his mouth agape as if he can’t find the right words.
“I’ve had to increase my hours at the store in an attempt to do something. I can’t fucking stay under the same roof as them.”
“You mean as her?”
“Yes. No. I don’t fucking know.” I stand and shove my hands into my hair. “I don’t know anything right now other than I’ve had to give up the one thing that keeps me going in order to bail my fucking mother out again. This is my senior year. It shouldn’t be like this.”
“I know, man. Trust me, I know.”
I turn to look at my best friend with frown lines marring his forehead. I know that out of everyone, he understands, but his sympathy isn’t going to help me right now.
“How much do you need? Maybe you could ask Bri—”
“No. No fucking way am I asking your girlfriend for a handout. I’m not a fucking charity case.”
“I know that, and it would only be a loan until you get yourself sorted.”
PAINE: ROSEWOOD HIGH #2 Page 8
