Every day that follows is just a repeat of the one before. I somehow drag my body from bed just in time to get to school before the final bell. I spend all day with my head down, ignoring Camila in the few classes we share. I’ve already done enough damage. If she wants to bring up what happened then she’s going to have to come to me, not the other way around. I’m still undecided if I actually regret going to her that night or not. On one hand, I still remember how she reacted to my touch, but on the other, I remember Noah’s face as I filled him in on what we’d been up to, and guilt consumes me that she might not have been as into it as I remember.
The second I walk out of the school building after class, I head straight for work. Each night is the same, even down to some of the same customers buying the same items every day. It’s monotonous, but it it’s exactly what I need.
By the time Friday rolls around, I want to give up. When I head downstairs before leaving for school, there are birthday balloons and banners everywhere and a pile of gifts the size of a small mountain on the dining table.
Rolling my eyes at the sight. I grab a cereal bar from the cupboard and leave before any of the celebrations start. They’re definitely something I don’t want to be a part of. As if living here as it is isn’t a constant reminder of the stable family life I don’t have, I don’t need to see them spoil Camila on her special day.
23
Camila
“Happy birthday, baby!” Mom calls the second my foot hits the bottom step. She comes rushing over and wraps me in a hug. A ball of emotion clogs my throat as I embrace her back. It’s exactly what I need.
This week’s been… weird. She and Dad have either been out or packing getting ready to head to New York tomorrow, and I’ve either been in the house with Mason’s brothers or at school being ignored by the guy himself. I was expecting him to corner me after he tried to talk to me in the hallway but nothing. I lie awake every night after he gets home from work, expecting him to let himself in so he can ask me about what Noah said, but again, nothing. Whenever I see him at school, he just looks down as if I don’t exist. I don’t fucking get it and it’s frustrating the hell out of me.
I thought it would be worse with him moving in, but this week I’ve seen him less than ever. I should be relieved after everything, but I’m far from it.
“I can’t believe my baby is eighteen.” Mom pulls back, her eyes swimming with tears. “Come on, I made you waffles.”
I take her hand and allow her to lead me toward the kitchen where Dad, Nic, Ollie, and Charlie are waiting.
“Happy birthday,” they all sing in unison. I thank them, looking around, wondering if I’m the only one who notices the person who’s markedly absent.
Shouldn’t he be here for this too?
I don’t want to ask. I want to ignore him as much as he has been me, but I find the words tumbling out nonetheless.
“Where’s Mason?”
“He’d already left when I knocked. Probably got practice or something.”
My chin drops at his mom’s excuse. “He’s not on the team anymore, so why would he be at practice?”
“He’s... what?” She’s totally taken aback, and it ignites a fire in my belly. Does she really have no fucking clue what he’s doing for her? For his family?
“He quit,” I spit, taking a step toward her, my fingers curling into a fist. “He quit to pick up more hours so he could look after his family.”
She swallows and breaks our eye contact. At least she has the decency to look guilty about it.
“But—”
“But what? Are you going to find a job so he doesn’t have to work so hard, or are you going to continue fucking around?”
“Camila,” Dad snaps, but I ignore him.
“Bringing money into the house shouldn’t be his responsibility. It should be yours,” I seethe. “He’s risking everything for you. College. His future. All because you can’t be bothered to do your job and support your kids.” I’m only assuming the bit about college is true. The guy I used to know used to spend all his time talking about playing college football, so I can only assume that hasn’t changed, and him not being on the team at the most vital time of the year is not going to help. They’ve got three games left before the playoffs. Three games he should be playing in.
“I’ll fix it, I promise,” she whispers.
“Really. When is that going to happen? His team needs him on the field tonight. The season is almost over already. I’m afraid it’s going to be too little too late.”
“He’ll play the last two games. I’ll make sure of it.” She puts more conviction into those words than I’ve heard from her in years, so I can only hope they’re true. “Tell him to sort his hours so he can play.”
“Do your own dirty work,” I snap, finding my chair and ignoring the atmosphere I’ve created around the breakfast table.
The second I’ve forced down my waffles, I run for my car, desperate to not have to look at Nicky any longer. I’m starting to understand why Mason suddenly changed. His mom was never like that when we were kids. Maybe things were worse than he allowed any of us to see.
I’m met at school by Amalie and Alyssa, who are holding out a tray full of doughnuts with candles poked into them.
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” they sing, but the fact that now both Shane and Noah are missing doesn’t pass me by. First I lost Mason, then Shane, and now Noah. I know the reasons for each absence, but it doesn’t mean it hurts any less. Okay, so after everything, maybe I’m not all that bothered about Noah.
“Thank you.” I plaster on a smile that I don’t feel. So much is already changing, and we’re not even that close to the end of the year and the end of our school careers. As always, that thought makes me think of what I’m going to do next. Everyone tells me that I’ll figure it out and not to worry, but how can I when everyone seems to know exactly what they want to do and I’m like a lost little sheep running around the field, trying to figure out which way is up.
I take a pink-striped doughnut from the box and cram it into my mouth in the hope it covers how I’m really feeling. I’m eighteen today. An adult at last. I should be celebrating, but my uncertain future along with everything has me feeling nothing like doing so. It makes me glad I decided on a quiet evening with my parents tonight and a day with my girls tomorrow. I don’t have it in me to party.
I’m gutted to miss tonight’s away game, but it’s a little too far to travel and I knew my parents wouldn’t have any of it if I tried demanding to go. It’s the first and hopefully the last game of the season I’ll miss. I know that I’ll go to college next year and have a new team to support, but the Bears have been my team for as long as I can remember, and to be able to see them succeed this year under Jake’s leadership would be everything.
“I’m so excited for tomorrow,” Alyssa says, bouncing toward our lockers. “A day to chill, no boys.”
“Something you need to tell us, Alyssa?” Amalie asks before I get the chance. As far as I’m aware, she’s still free and single—but things can change fast, as I’m beginning to learn.
“Nah, I’m still working on the basketball team. Any day now, one of them will figure out that their life is not complete without me.”
Amalie and I laugh at her serious expression.
I pull my locker open the second I get there to pull some books out, but when the door opens, a squeal rips from my lips as something flies out at me.
“Fucking hell,” I say, my heart racing as an ‘Eighteen Today’ balloon rises into the hallway. “Was this really necessary?” I ask, turning to look at the girls.
They glance at each other, questions filling their eyes.
“I wish it was us, but we just brought the doughnuts,” Amalie admits.
“So who?” I mutter, pulling out the weight, hoping there might be a note, but there’s nothing. “Weird.”
“I bet it was him,” Amalie whispers in my ear.
Tingles r
un down my spine at her suggestion, and I know he’s looking at me. I close my eyes for a moment, not wanting anyone to see the water that fills them. His absence has hurt this week. I know I was the one who sent him away, but is it wrong to have expected him to fight? He’s never been one to go down easily; that’s what makes all this worse. He’s not himself, and I fear all this might have hurt him more than he’d ever let on.
When I turn and look over my shoulder, Jake and the team are at their usual benches, but Mason’s not with them. I quickly glance around, but I see no sign of him. I do, however, spot Shane, who’s hovering a little down the corridor, looking like he wants to come over but is unsure because of Amalie’s presence. My heart aches for him once again that he feels he needs to keep his distance for something he didn’t do.
I wave him over. He hesitates, but when Amalie notices who’s holding my attention she smiles at him.
“Happy birthday,” he says, giving me a hug.
“Thank you.”
“Hey,” he says to both Amalie and Alyssa. I hate the uncertainty in his eyes, and as he looks up to where Jake is, I realize that he’s more scared of him than anything else.
Following his line of sight, Amalie turns back to Shane. “Just ignore him.” She reaches out and places her hand on his forearm encouragingly. Jake immediately jumps from the bench and starts making his way over.
“Watch out, caveman incoming.”
Amalie rolls her eyes but doesn’t make any effort to put space between her and Shane, and why should she? They’re not doing anything wrong.
“Let me walk you to class,” Shane says, turning my way.
“You don’t need to be afraid of him.”
“I’m not, I’d just rather not be in his way.”
I grab what I need and step into Shane’s side, saying a quick goodbye to both Amalie and Alyssa. “Everyone knows it wasn’t you,” I say, looking up to Shane. It’s not the first time I’ve said the words, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.
“People will believe what they like.” He shrugs.
“But you’re giving them the power to make you hide, make you run away.”
“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do, Cam. I never have wanted to spend time with Jake, and I still don’t. Nothing’s changed.”
“But the parties.”
“Meh... my brothers have held parties most weekends since I was a kid. They’re nothing new.”
I look up to him, trying to read if he’s telling the truth or not.
As we close in on the math department, almost all the cheer squad seems to emerge from the girls’ bathroom.
“You should have seen her face,” one of their high-pitched voices screeches over the rest.
“She so had it coming to her,” someone else adds.
Shaking my head, I go to side step them, but sadly I’m noticed before I get to escape.
“And people call us the sluts,” Chelsea says, rolling her eyes at me. “I know it’s only Shane, but seriously, how many guys do you intend on getting your claws into this week? Noah was doing the right thing, if you ask me. Do you know how long it was going on for?”
The blood drains from my face. It’s a question I’ve tried not to think about, knowing the answer could only make the whole situation a hell of a lot worse.
Shane’s stance changes beside me before he steps up to Chelsea. “That’s enough,” he barks. I can’t deny my opinion on Shane changes in that one instant.
He’s always been the quiet one who does anything he can to stay out of trouble. Unfortunately, who he is and the life he’s been born into means he’s often dragged right into the middle of it all.
Chelsea’s eyes widen in shock, her chin dropping. Is she... is she lost for words?
“Camila’s not in the wrong here. They are.” He flicks his eyes to Tasha, who’s cowering behind her leader. “I don’t care if she’s a cheerleader or the fucking President, she shouldn’t have gone after someone else’s boyfriend. End of.”
Shane holds Chelsea’s eyes captive as he stares down at her. It’s as if he’s willing her to bite back. His chest heaves, his fists clenching at his sides as his frustration gets the better of him.
I wait, hardly breathing to see what’s going to happen next, but after a silent, and tense, few seconds, Shane releases her and turns to me.
“Shall we continue?” It’s almost painful to drag my eyes away from a shell-shocked Chelsea and over to him, but when I do, it’s worth it because his eyes are glittering with accomplishment, and so they should. He just silenced the queen bitch, and in front of her team.
“That was fucking awesome.” I practically bounce all the way to my math class. “Did you see her face? She was so fucking shocked. Man, if people stood up to her more it would knock her down a peg or two.” Shane remains silent beside me. Noticing the tense set of his shoulders, I slow our pace and come to a stop in a quiet part of the hallway. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” He doesn’t look down at me, just stares off over my shoulder. When I turn to see what has his attention, I find an empty hallway.
“I know things are weird now Noah and I aren’t...” I trail off, not wanting to think about all that. “But I’m here, if you need to chat or anything, you know that right?”
His eyes finally find mine and I breathe a sigh of relief when I find his usual green happy-go-lucky ones looking back at me.
“Come on, we’re going to be late.”
Both Noah and Mason are in my second class of the day, so just as things start to settle down in math, I know I’ve got a potential storm brewing. We should have all had a class together on Monday, but I skipped and since found out that I wasn’t the only one.
I slip down in my chair, hoping it makes me invisible as Noah walks in. My stomach twists and my heart aches. There’s so much familiarity there. I could so easily get up and go and sit on his lap. It would be second nature. I’ve spent so much time with him by my side, in my corner, or so I thought. But then his betrayal hits me like a bat, and I have to fight to keep my waffles down.
It’s weird. Not even a week’s passed since I found them, but already, I don’t think I hate him. I’ll never forgive him, I know that much, but I just can’t find it in me to give him the time or energy it takes to hate him.
With a sigh, I pick up my pen and start doodling in my book in an attempt to look busy. I don’t think he’ll try to talk to me—he hasn’t all week, so I can’t imagine he will today even if it is my birthday.
To my utter shock, as he passes my desk, he drops a white envelope down, but he doesn’t stop.
I should stuff it in my bag, or the trash, and forget it exists, but only after a few seconds my curiosity gets the better of me.
Pulling the lip open, I slide out the birthday card. On the front is a vintage typewriter with happy birthday typed on the paper sitting in it. It’s pretty but nothing special. It’s not until I open it that my breath catches.
I’m so sorry.
A silent sob rumbles up my throat. The fuck load of emotions I’d been managing to keep shoved down threaten to bubble up and spill over.
Sucking in a long, slow breath, I attempt to calm myself down. I’m in the middle of class, and I’m not the kind of girl who just cries during a school day, I’m stronger than that.
I close my eyes and will myself to pull it together when the atmosphere in the room presses down on my shoulders. I don’t need to look to know why, but I do, nonetheless.
Mason’s hard and cold eyes are locked on Noah, who squirms in his seat. He’s not a fighter, so I’d imagine being pinned against the lockers and punched in the face the other day terrified him.
As Mason steps farther into the room, he seems to suck all the air out. I fight to drag in the breaths I need, but as he passes my desk all I get is a lungful of his scent. My body betrays me and sends me back to being laid out on my bed with him between my thighs. I squirm in my seat but it’s for a very different rea
son than with Noah, although both involve Mason’s hands.
When I was with Noah, the idea of going further was always on my mind, but that was mainly because I knew he wanted it, although I was a little curious. But now, after experiencing just a taste with Mason, it’s all I can think about. And I’m pretty sure it’s not just the act or the pleasure, but the person who delivered it.
I’m fucked.
He doesn’t stop. His steps don’t even falter as he passes me. I turn my head away from him to ensure he can’t see the emotion swimming in my eyes.
He doesn’t walk much farther, seeing as he sits directly behind me. The scratch of his chair against the floor makes my teeth grind.
It’s another five seconds before I hear anything else from him. The rest of the class have gone back to their previous conversations, so they’re probably totally unaware he even says anything to me.
“Please don’t tell me one pathetic I’m sorry card will send you running back.”
My spine stiffens. I didn’t even realize I’d dropped the card on the desk in front of me. Quickly reaching out, I close it and shove it into my notebook.
“I thought now that you’d been shown what it could really be like, you’d realize that you can do better than that—”
“Enough,” I snap, turning to face him. A satisfied smirk plays on his lips as my eyes narrow at him. The rest of the room silences and turns toward us to watch the show. They’re all well aware that there’s no love lost between the two of us. This isn’t the first time we’ve had a standoff in school in the past four years, so they’re probably waiting for their next installment of the Camila and Mason show.
“What time shall I stop by later for your special birthday surprise?” His words drip with sex, and I wouldn’t be surprised if all the girls within a ten-foot radius aren’t wet right now from the deep rumbling of his voice and the promise in his tone.
“Fuck you.” My voice is low and angry, but he doesn’t miss it. His smile curls up wider.
“What’s that? You want to go all night this time?”
PAINE: ROSEWOOD HIGH #2 Page 17
