Jake: I’m in. If Ethan’s busy you’ll have to put up with my gym though.
By his gym, he means his little set up behind his trailer. We both kinda rely on Ethan to get us into his decent gym, seeing as neither of us has the money for the membership that he does.
Me: Perfect. Give me twenty.
I’m not fussy. I don’t need a fancy weight bench or an all singing, all dancing crosstrainer. A tree branch and the rusty bike Jake pulled from a skip a few months ago is all I need to burn off a little steam and try to get the idea of how fucking up for it Camila was just a few moments ago from my head.
Despite the fact that I’m going to work out, I head for the shower first before pulling on my own pair of sweatpants and a fresh t-shirt. My hair’s still wet as I walk into the Lopezes’ kitchen to fill up my water bottle.
I’m expecting it to be empty, so I startle a little when I turn the corner and find Camila bent over the oven, her ass on full display.
“Now you’re just starting to look as bad as them, trying to flaunt it and rub it in my face.”
She jumps up and backs away from me.
“How long is it you’re staying exactly, because it’s been a few hours at the most and I’m already sick of the sight of you.” The way the gold flecks in her eyes sparkle, I know this isn’t entirely true.
“Fuck knows. You’d be better off asking my mother how long before she pulls her head out of her ass and does her fucking job.” I don’t mean for so much to pour from my lips. It seems that even being around Camila this long is dragging the old Mason out who used to tell her everything once again.
She opens her mouth to respond. I shouldn’t really need to worry about spilling too much, because with us all living in one happy house, everything I’ve been trying to cover up is going to be out in the open in mere days.
“Just forget I said anything. We’ll be gone as soon as I can do something about it.”
“It’s not your job to do anything about it.” Her voice is softer than it was a moment ago. “That’s why you didn’t play last night, wasn’t it? You were working.”
“It doesn’t fucking matter why I didn’t play. And you need to keep your nose out. You’ve already done enough damage to my life.”
“Fucking hell, Mase. How long is it going to take you to realize that none of that is on me? I had nothing to do with what happened with your dad. Why are you still punishing me for that?”
My chest heaves as she takes me back to the day my dad walked out. My mom was sobbing behind me where I stood in the doorway, watching him head to his car with just one suitcase of belongings to his name.
“Blame your dad, blame my dad, blame your mom. Who the fuck ever but me. I was as innocent in all of that as you were. They might have been the ones to push your dad to leave and for your mom to fall apart, but you are the only one to blame for ruining this.” She gestures between us. “You single-handedly ruined the friendship we’d built for years. You, Mason.”
Her index finger jabs me hard in the chest, and when she looks up and meets my eyes, hers are full of tears. “You weren’t the only one who lost something, Mason. Okay, so it might have been worse for you, but you weren’t the only one to have your life turned upside down, and that’s something I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you for. Now get out of my fucking way.”
I can’t move. I’m frozen to the spot as the words she just said to me filter into my brain.
“Move,” she demands, her voice cracking on that one word alone. Keeping my eyes on the tiled floor, too afraid to see the emotion on her face, I stand aside and allow her to pass with her lunch.
“Fuck.” My hands lift to my hair. I should follow her. I should attempt to fix something, but as I look around her perfect family home, I’m reminded of everything she still has. She lost me, so what? I lost everything.
I get to Jake’s trailer in record time in my need to get the fuck away from that house and everything it represents.
I know he’s here waiting for me, so I pull the door open and step inside. If I wasn’t so lost in my own head, I’d probably be able to predict the scene I walk in on. At least they’re fully fucking clothed, I guess.
“Ever heard of knocking, asshole?” Jake mutters, pushing himself up from Amalie and none too discreetly rearranging himself in his pants.
Jealousy burns through me faster than I’m able to control. I fall down on the opposite couch, rest my head back against the wall and wait for them to sort themselves out.
“What the fuck’s eating you?” Apparently my torment is obvious to my best friend.
“I moved in this morning.”
“Moved in where?” Amalie asks. Her soft, innocent voice makes me look up at her.
“You don’t know?”
She glances over at Jake with narrowed eyes, but I know she’s not pissed he kept my secret.
“Into the Lopezs’ house.”
Her brows are drawn together in confusion when she looks back at me.
“The Lopezes’ house? As in, Camila’s house?”
“The one and only.”
“Why?”
With a sigh, I give her the basics so she understands just a bit of the disaster that is my life.
“That might explain why she’s been ignoring my calls all morning. She just disappeared on us last night. I assume Noah got her home safe.”
“Not exactly,” I admit but regret it instantly when their intrigued eyes turn on me. With a sigh, I resign myself to explaining. “He disappeared too. I found her drunk off her ass in Ethan’s bathroom.”
“Where the hell did Noah go?”
“You took her home, didn’t you?”
Jake and Amalie ask at the same time.
“I have no idea,” I say to Amalie to address the issue of Noah. “Balls deep in Tasha, probably. And yes, I took her home. She doesn’t know it was me, though, and I’d appreciate if you didn’t tell her.” I turn my stare back on Amalie.
“Why? She might go a little easier on you if she knows you looked after her.”
“She just doesn’t need to know,” I snap, not really wanting to dissect the issues between Camila and me. It’s bad enough that I can’t get her and her practically see-through tank out of my head.
“Right, well. If you two are heading to work out, I’m going to go and see Camila and make sure she’s okay. Maybe see if I can convince her to dump Noah’s arse.”
“She won’t listen,” I mutter.
“She’ll figure it out eventually.”
“Come on then, let’s attempt to get her out of your system,” Jake says after giving Amalie a kiss goodbye with a smug as fuck smile, as if he knows exactly what he’s talking about.
17
Camila
“How’s the hangover?” Amalie asks when she strolls into my bedroom later that afternoon.
“Fine,” I mutter. “Don’t ever let me drink tequila again.”
“Yeah, because you’d have listened to me last night if I’d told you to stop.”
I shrug at her because we both know she’s right.
“So…” she starts, falling down onto my bed behind where I’m sitting at my desk, attempting to make a start on my ‘Against All Odds’ paper. “Were you planning on telling me about your new housemate?”
“I was hoping that if I didn’t acknowledge it, then it wouldn’t happen.”
“How’d that work out?”
“Fantastic. He moved his stuff in the room on the other side of that wall this morning.” A smile that she tries to fight tugs at her lips, her eyes shining with delight. “Do you need to enjoy this quite so much?”
“I’m sorry, but it is quite entertaining. He was wound as tight as a spring when he turned up at Jake’s earlier.”
“You’ve seen him?”
“How did you think I found out he’d moved in, seeing as you didn’t want to tell me?”
“Jake. What did he say?”
“Not a lot. Why? Has som
ething happened in the short few hours he’s been here?”
“No.” She raises an eyebrow. “I just helped him move his bed in and he was an ass. He keeps going on about Noah, accusing me of being dumb.”
“Can you blame him?”
“Noah’s not cheating.” Even I can admit that the argument is weak at best.
“Right, so what happened to him last night then?”
“He brought me home when I was too drunk to keep my eyes open.”
“Did he?”
I open my mouth to tell her that it was him, but her cell ringing cuts me off.
“Shit, sorry, it’s Gran. I promised her I’d be home to help with something this afternoon. We will be continuing this conversation though.”
“Fantastic. Can’t wait.” She gets up and heads for the door. “Wait. If it wasn’t Noah then... was it you and Jake?”
She laughs, and it makes my blood boil. “What do you think, Cami?” Her head tilts to the side like she’s talking to a cute little kid and then she’s gone, leaving me even more confused about what’s going on than I was before she arrived.
Pushing thoughts of last night’s party and my new neighbor aside, I focus on the task at hand.
Against All Odds. The only person who I can think right now who’s done anything even close to the title is Jake. The hard to crack, ultimate player, bad boy, finally reformed, against all odds, by my new best friend.
Tapping my pen against my chin, I consider how I might play this.
In the end, I turn what is a very real story into a somewhat fictional newspaper article set in the future about an NFL player overcoming his adversities and making it despite his early years.
By the time I hit print and shut the document down, I’m proud of what I’ve achieved. My back’s stiff from sitting in the same position for so long, and my shoulders ache.
The sun’s long set, and as I sit back and stretch, I realize that I’m starving.
The house is still quiet. My parents told me yesterday that they intended on taking Mason’s mom and brothers out for the day in the hope that the boys will be distracted from having to move from their family home. I like their positive thinking, but I’m not sure how much it’s going to help in the long run. I might not know them all that well—they were only babies when I used to spend most of my time around them, but just from hearing Mom talk about them over the years, I know they’re perceptive kids. There’s no doubt, even at their age, that they don’t know what’s going on with their lives right now.
I find myself some dinner before settling on my bed for an evening of binge watching some trashy TV. Mason has not reappeared since our interaction in the kitchen earlier today, and I couldn’t be happier. The last thing I need is for him to turn back up, demanding we continue where we left off. Whether that’s from his bedroom or the kitchen, neither fills me with joy. Okay, that might be a bit of a lie. Something is still tingling just beneath my skin after he backed me up against the wall earlier, even though I know I should have forgotten all about it already.
I’m just losing myself in the latest episode of The Bachelor when my phone buzzes on the side. I assume it’ll be Noah, seeing as I haven’t seen nor heard from him since last night despite sending a couple of messages to him this afternoon to try to dig into what actually happened. I snatch it from the side and look down at the screen. But instead of my boyfriend’s name staring back at me, it’s an unknown number.
555-617-9764: Are you ready to learn the truth?
My finger hovers over the reply button, but in the end I think better of it. Whoever this is is just using me for some cheap entertainment.
I’m just putting it back on the nightstand when it vibrates in my hand once again.
555-617-9764: Shane’s house. First bedroom on the right. Now!
My hand trembles that this might be something serious, or at least the answer to the question that’s been spinning around in my mind since I watched Mason slam his fists into Noah’s face about this time last week.
My hands tremble as I get off the bed. I still. This could be one big joke and I could find Mason at the other end, laughing his ass off. But why would he be at Shane’s? They’ve never got along, even less so after the whole spiked drink situation at Shane’s last party.
I decide that I need to find out for myself, knowing that if I sit here thinking ‘what if’ then it’s going to eat me until I do shift my ass, and by then it could be too late.
Pulling a zip up hoodie on over the top of my tank top, I slip my feet into the first pair of shoes I find and go to leave the house.
Just as my foot hits the bottom step, the front door opens and Mason walks through. As if he knows I’m there, he looks up and finds my eyes immediately. Amusement fills them, especially after he’s taken in my outfit.
“If that’s what Noah asks you to dress in for a booty call, then he’s even weirder than I thought.”
“I don’t have time for this bullshit,” I mutter, storming past him and snatching my keys from the sideboard as I pass.
“Have a good night. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Flipping him off over my shoulder, I slam the door behind me and head for my car.
Thankfully it starts the first time, and in seconds I’m on the road heading for Shane’s house to find out what awaits me.
By the time I pull up on his street, my hands are shaking uncontrollably and my stomach is knotted so tight I fear I might not be able to stand straight. It’s clear there’s a party going on inside, but I don’t register the fact that my friends are partying without me. I just need to know what I’m going to find in that bedroom. Mason’s at home, or at least I assume that’s where he stayed, so I’m pretty confident this isn’t a prank he’s organized.
Turning off the engine, I suck in a deep breath and step from the car.
The walk to his house feels like the slowest of my life, but all too soon, I’m pushing down the door handle and stepping inside.
There’s no music like I was expecting, and the house isn’t full to the brim like the cars lining the street led me to believe.
Laughter filters down from where I know Shane’s den to be, and I can only assume it’s a boy’s night and they’re all down there watching whatever sport’s on the TV.
Ignoring them, I take a step for the stairs.
With each step I take, I tell myself that this is just a joke. Noah is probably waiting for me, expecting me to hand myself over to him. Why is it that the thought of that being about to happen makes me more anxious than any other alternative?
The dread that’s sitting heavy in my stomach tells me that whatever I’m about to find behind that door is going to turn my world upside down, but I’m powerless not to keep moving toward it.
I lift my hand to the doorknob, my heart racing, my head spinning as I consider that Mason is about to be proved right.
I twist it as slowly and as quietly as I can. I have no idea what I might find, and I haven’t decided if I want my presence to be known.
I push the door open just a crack and squeeze my eyes closed tightly as I pray that I’m not about to witness what I think I am.
A loud moan has my eyes flying open, and when I look up, I find exactly what I feared. My boyfriend thrusting as hard as he can into a cheerleader.
I gasp but quickly cover my mouth with my hand, not wanting to be caught standing here staring.
Noah’s head is tipped back in pleasure as his fingers grip onto Tasha’s hips, who’s on all fours in front of him.
“Fuck, fuck,” he grunts, and I start to back away from the car crash in front of me. Tears burn my eyes, but initially it’s not for what he’s doing or even what I’ve lost, it’s for the fact that I didn’t trust the one person who I’d have given my life for not all that long ago.
Mason told me what is happening almost right in front of my eyes, and I chose to ignore him. To call him a liar, time and time again.
A sob rips from my lips
as I fly back down the stairs, my stomach clenching and my mouth watering like I’m about to lose the contents of it any moment.
I can’t get to the front door quick enough, but a throat clearing as me halting my retreat and turning around.
Standing in the far corner of the room is Shane. His eyes are soft and full of sympathy. My fists clench with my need to run over and slam them into him. If he knew about this and didn’t tell me, I’ll never forgive him.
He opens his mouth, but knowing I’m not going to be able to deal with whatever he’s about to say, I turn back and race from the house. The front door slams behind me. I’d like to think it might alert the couple upstairs that something might not be right, but I doubt it.
I don’t remember the drive home. I have no idea if I run any lights or cut off any other drivers. With my tears threatening to spill over, my only focus is locking myself inside my bedroom so I can fall apart in the safety of my own space.
I race through the house and up the stairs, praying that I don’t run into my parents on the way, wanting to know what’s wrong. The last thing I want to do is explain what I just witnessed.
18
Mason
It seems that the Lopezes could be a good influence on Mom, because I was expecting her to bail the second they all got back this evening, but to my total shock she bathed them both and put them to bed. The relief I felt knowing that I didn’t need to worry was huge and just showed how much pressure I’d been under over the past few years, not only looking after myself and trying to keep the house running, but playing dad to my brothers. It was exhausting. I didn’t pick up any shifts this weekend seeing as we were moving, and I had no idea how that was going to go. If it went as badly as I was anticipating, then I fully expected to need to escape to Ethan’s to get drunk and high instead of running to work. As it is, it hasn’t been too bad. I mean, I can hardly say that my encounter with Camila this morning was a bad one. Much the opposite with the way she longingly stared at me, practically begging me to put my hands on her. The way her breasts swelled in her tank. Fuck, I’m getting hard just thinking about it.
PAINE: ROSEWOOD HIGH #2 Page 12
