Shutting myself in my room, I crawl under my sheets fully dressed and hating that I can smell his presence. With the sheets over my head, I allow myself to cry for everything I’ve lost in the past two weeks.
Mason was right: I am a fucking idiot. I didn’t see what Noah was doing right under my nose, and now I’ve opened myself up to him, the guy who’s spent the last four years making my life misery. So. Fucking. Stupid.
At some point I must cry myself to sleep, because the next thing I know I’m being gently shaken awake by a hand on my shoulder.
“Camila, Cami. Come on, I’m worried about you,” a familiar British accent says from the other side of the sheets.
“Go away,” I mutter. I’m not ready to deal with the situation. I’m happier just hiding under here and locking it all out.
“Not a chance.” Slowly, the sheet is peeled away from me. The light makes me wince. I scoot up so I’m sitting with my arms wrapped around my knees. “What happened?”
“He’s having lock-in with Ethan and a barely dressed girl.” My voice shakes with every word. “I thought he was telling the truth about how he felt about me. How could he do that to me?” I sob.
“You don’t know he’s done anything, Cami. That girl could have been there for Ethan.”
“Why else would he be there?”
She shrugs, and I hate that she doesn’t have an argument. She’s usually so quick to defend Mason, and right now I need her to make me think I’m wrong. I need to be wrong. I need to know the boy I fell in love with really is the man I see now. I can’t cope thinking it was all an act to play me.
“It might not be how it looks. I know it’s hard, but you need to reserve judgment until you’ve spoken to him.” I look to her and narrow my eyes in frustration. She reaches out and smooths my hair down. “Are you going to get changed?”
“For what?”
“Uh... the game, silly.”
“I’m not going.” I reach for the covers, but Amalie’s quicker.
“There are two games left. I’m not allowing you to miss one of them.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want to see—”
“Him?”
“Anyone. I’m fed up with everyone judging me. I’m the poor girl Noah cheated on, then I was the girl everyone hated because I turned straight to Mason, and now I’m the idiot again.”
“No one’s judging, Cami. Hold your head high and show the world you’re stronger than that.”
Amalie gets up from the bed and I start to think I’ve won and that she’s going to leave. Unfortunately, she just goes to my wardrobe and pulls my Bears shirt from inside.
“Now go to the bathroom, freshen up, put some makeup on and let’s go. I refuse for you to make me late so I miss seeing Jake in action.”
Rolling my eyes at my best friend, I let out a sigh and climb off the bed. After everything she’s done for me, attending this game is the least I can do for her. Then the second it’s over, I’m coming right back here and not leaving.
The atmosphere at school is electric. We’ve never had such a successful season, and if it were any other night I’d be shouting and screaming with the best of them. Unfortunately, my heart’s just not in it.
“They’ve so got this in the bag tonight,” Amalie says beside me, bouncing up onto her toes.
“Even if Ethan and Mason turn up drunk?”
“They wouldn’t do that to Jake, or Coach, for that matter. They also know it would get them benched for the final game and none of them want that, Mason especially after missing the last couple.” I try to share her enthusiasm, I really do, but her words fall flat.
It’s only a few minutes later when the roar of the crowd makes me wince and everyone is suddenly on their feet as the Bears run onto the field. My eyes zero in on our players, trying to find number eleven. I shouldn’t be surprised when he’s last out along with number eighty-nine, Ethan, after what I saw earlier but I am, and I’m even more surprised they both turned up.
“See, I told you it would all be fine. Maybe Ethan was just having a meltdown or something.”
“You say that like you don’t know already.” Jake knew exactly where Mason was earlier, so am I really supposed to believe that Amalie is clueless in all of this?
“I don’t know anything. Jake doesn’t tell me all his friends’ secrets, just like I don’t tell him all yours.” I want to argue with her, but I know she’s right. “Now, try to relax and enjoy the game.”
It’s a good game. We dominate for most of it and manage an easy win, thanks to our opponents losing their quarterback to injury only a few minutes in. But there’s something different about our team, and it’s all because of two players. Mason and Ethan. It’s obvious to everyone, especially Coach and Jake who are constantly shouting at them to focus, that there’s something wrong with them. Mason especially as he slams into the opponent’s players with as much strength as he has. He’s not usually rough player, but tonight he’s on the verge of being sent off more than once.
“See, I told you something’s wrong,” I say to Amalie when Coach gives Mason another ear bashing. “That’s not how he usually plays.”
“I know. You need to find him after and talk to him. You’re coming to Ethan’s, right?”
“No, I’m really, really not.”
“Camila,” she sighs. “Rip the plaster off. Talk to him and get it over and done with. Find out the truth before you drive yourself crazy.”
“Fine. I’ll talk to him and then I’m leaving.”
“Fine,” she says, mimicking me.
* * *
“Come on, I told Jake we’d meet them at Ethan’s,” Amalie says, walking past the entrance to the locker room and toward her car. I kind of hoped I’d be able to see Mason before getting to party central to save me from having to step foot inside.
We’re one of the first ones there, so the house is still quiet when we walk through the front door.
“Something’s different here,” I say as we make our way to the kitchen for a drink.
“In what way?”
“All the family photos are gone.” I look around the room, making sure I’m not going crazy and they’ve just moved. Previously there were pictures of Ethan and his mom and dad everywhere over the years, but now, every single one is gone.
“Weird. Although family issues would explain how he’s been acting recently.”
We find bottles laid out in the kitchen and Amalie helps herself to one before the sound of everyone else arriving fills the house. Dread sits heavy in my stomach. I shouldn’t have come here. I should have gone home and hidden.
I’ve barely lifted the drink Amalie made me to my lips when Jake sweeps across the room and pulls Amalie into his body for a celebration kiss. She eagerly returns it and I turn away, not wanting to intrude on their moment. Most of the rest of the team head our way to find drinks while others put the music on and start chatting and dancing around us.
With the intention of slipping out the back, finding my car and disappearing, I head down the hallway. I’ve got the exit in my sights when a hand reaches out from one of the rooms and grabs my forearm. My heart slams against my ribs as I prepare to look into Mason’s eyes, only when I look up, I don’t find his dark ones boring down on me. Instead, I look into Noah’s.
“What do you want?” I spit. “I was leaving.”
“Trouble in paradise already?”
“Fuck you, Noah. You don’t get to judge or have any opinion on what I’m doing anymore.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“So what did you actually want? I’m assuming you dragged me in here for a reason.”
He takes a step forward and I take one back. Unfortunately I bump into the wall, stopping me putting any more space between us.
He reaches out and takes a lock of my hair between his fingers. The move is so familiar, but unlike every other time he’s done it, I want to slap his hand away from me. He has no right touching me after everything he�
��s done.
“I just wanted to apologize properly. I never got the chance to tell you that I never meant to hurt you.”
“Really? So you fucking a cheerleader behind my back wasn’t meant to hurt?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” He leans a little closer. The smell of alcohol on his breath is obvious.
I glance to the side, thinking that I could side-step him and still get out of here when movement by the door catches my eye. There’s a flash of blonde hair, but it’s all I need to know that it was Mason.
Fuck.
As I turn back to Noah, it registers to me how this must look to an outsider. Pushing my palms against Noah’s chest, I force him to back up.
“I don’t want to hear it. Go and find your cheerslut if you want to talk to someone.”
I’m walking away when my cell pings in my purse. Pausing for a moment, I pull it out hoping that it’s Mason, but when I find that number staring back at me, my heart picks up pace. Nothing good ever comes out of that number.
My hands shake as I swipe to unlock it. I could be about to read anything, but what I find shocks me even more than I was expecting.
Photo after photo flashes up on my screen of Mason and… Chelsea. My stomach turns over, my hand automatically lifting to my mouth.
His promises that he’d never slept with her ring through my mind and fire me up, and when my feet move, it’s not in the direction of the exit. I storm through the house looking for him. Or her. I don’t really care if I should happen to find her first and show her what I really think of this little stunt.
It seems I’m in luck because when I do find them, they’re together. Red hot anger fills my veins as I watch from the doorway as Chelsea walks over to Mason with two drinks. He already looks pretty out of it, but he accepts the cup and tips it straight to his mouth. He watches her as she steps into his side. I see red when she places her hand against his stomach and runs it up to his neck.
Marching over, my hand lands on her shoulder and I pull her away from his body.
“What the—oh, Camila’s joined the party.”
Mason looks between the two of us, his eyes wide, and he places his cup on the table next to him.
“You’re a filthy fucking slut, you know that?” My hand goes flying out, and I’m so ready for the satisfying sound of my palm connecting with her cheek, but just as I’m about to swing, fingers wrap around my wrist.
“Whoa, she’s not worth it.” Jake’s deep voice fills my ears and I spin on him.
“You.” I narrow my eyes and poke him in the chest. “You need to get out of my way. That bitch needs a fucking lesson. She thinks it’s okay to interfere in our lives just because we have what she wants, what she seems to think she deserves.”
“Trust me, I know and I agree, but you don’t want to do this with an audience.”
“Why? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”
A loud crash from behind us has us all turning around, and when we do, we find Mason in a heap on the floor.
“What the hell?” Jake’s on his knees by his side, instantly turning him into the recovery position. I’ve only been here a few seconds but one image stands out in my mind. Reaching over, I grab Mason’s drink and thrust it under Chelsea’s nose.
“Drink. It,” I demand.
She stares down at the cup before looking up at me. Guilt flashes in her eyes and everything falls into place.
“I said drink it.”
“Camila, what are you doing?”
“Finding out the truth.”
I can feel everyone’s eyes burning into my back, but I don’t look away from Chelsea.
“It was you, wasn’t it, at Shane’s party?” Amalie comes to stand beside me, waiting for an answer. But we don’t get one, not yet anyway. “Those photos you just sent me. They’re staged, aren’t they?”
Chelsea has the gall to actually roll her eyes at me like what I’m suggesting is actually ridiculous.
“Fine,” she mutters. “Yes, it was me, and yes they’re fake.” The attitude on her face doesn’t falter, and this time when I move, there’s no one behind to stop me.
My palm stings like a bitch as it collides with her face.
“What did you give him?” She continues staring down at the floor, my handprint glowing on her face. I close the space between us. “Tell me what you gave him and we might make it a little easier on you. Not that anyone’s going to want anything to do with you after this.”
“Ugh, it’s nothing much. It’ll just knock him out for a bit. No harm done.”
“No harm? No fucking harm?” This time Amalie comes to stand between the two of us.
“Get the fuck out of here, and if you’re lucky, we won’t call the police.” Without batting an eyelid, Chelsea turns and runs—well, hobbles.
“She’s so fucking done here.” My chest heaves and my fingers continue to curl into fists as I stand and watch her.
“We should probably try to get him to bed,” Jake says from behind me, reminding me of what’s actually going on here.
Running over, I fall to my knees and place my hand on Mason’s cheek. “He’s going to be okay, right?”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine. It shouldn’t hit him as hard as it did Amalie.”
Ethan walks past at that moment, his arms around some girl I’ve never seen.
“Savage, a little help here?” Jake barks, catching his attention. He does a double take of us crowded around a passed out Mason before walking over.
“Jesus, how much has he had?”
“Not enough to do this,” Jake seethes. He’s barely holding himself together, and when I look up to his eyes, I see that they’re wild with fury. He’s wanted someone’s blood for what they did to Amalie that night. He was so convinced he’d got it when he plowed his fists into Shane’s face, but Amalie and I told him that he was wrong. Shane wouldn’t do that. As nice as it is to be proved right about my friend, I’m not about to point it out anytime soon. “Help me get him up.”
With Jake and Ethan at his sides, we manage to get Mason up to one of the guest rooms.
“Do you want me to stay?” Amalie asks once he’s laid out.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll call you if I need you.”
She’s hesitant to leave, but after a few seconds she turns and closes the door behind her. I make quick work of pulling Mason’s shoes from his feet and then crawl onto the bed beside him.
“What the hell is going on, Mase? Why did you disappear?” I’m staring at the ceiling, not expecting a response, so I almost jump out of my skin when he speaks.
“Cami?” His voice is rough and slurred. It hits me right in the chest despite wanting to hurt him for abandoning me for no reason.
“I’m here. It’s okay.”
“I’m so—”
“Just sleep, Mase. We’ll talk tomorrow when you’re more with it.” It seems that’s all the encouragement he needs because he’s out like a light again.
I don’t leave his side, and I toss and turn all night. Despite the light being on, I can’t settle, too many thoughts racing around my mind trying to come up with why he could have hidden from me.
I eventually drift off when the sun starts to rise, and I’m only woken by footsteps a while later.
When I open my eyes, I find Mason sneaking toward the door.
“You’re leaving?” I ask, my voice rough with sleep.
“I’ve got something I need to do.”
“I’ll come, just wa—”
“No. I need to do this alone.”
“What the hell’s going on, Mason?” I demand, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and standing in front of him.
“It’s... it’s…”
“Is there someone else?”
“No. Although I could ask the same thing. I seem to remember you getting up close and personal with your ex last night.”
“Oh yeah, I’m cheating on you with him. Don’t be so ridiculous.” I can’t help rolling m
y eyes. “A little trust would be great.”
“Yeah, same here. I’ll see you later.”
“You said that before,” I call out as he makes his way down the hallway.
He looks back at me, his eyes haunted and sad. Unease fills me, and it’s probably the wrong thing to do seeing as we just talked about trust, but I rush to pull my boots on and follow him out of Ethan’s house. There are passed out bodies everywhere downstairs. I quickly step over them and get to my car without being spotted by Mason.
I sit tight while he backs out of the driveway and then I follow. I hate that I’m doing this, but that look in his eyes haunts me.
I follow him to the east side and then out to the next town. When he eventually indicates to turn off the main road, my brows draw together.
It’s a cemetery.
I hang back, allowing him to turn around if necessary, but he doesn’t come back. Instead, when I drive into the parking lot, I find his car with the engine off and him walking down the path toward the graves.
I fight with myself for long minutes as to what to do. I should just drive home and wait, I do know that, but my need to know he’s okay is bigger than my need to do what’s right.
I push my door open and follow the path he disappeared down. There are rows and rows of gravestones and a few people are scattered about, placing down flowers or just having a morning chat with a lost loved one.
I keep walking, looking left and right, trying to spot him. Just when I think he’s vanished I find a figure sitting on the ground in the distance, facing a gravestone.
I gasp when I see his shoulders shaking and his head lowered in pain. My heart breaks for him and I have no fucking clue what’s going on or who’s died.
My legs carry me to him without instruction from my brain. My need to comfort him is too strong to deny.
I have no idea if he hears me coming, but when I sit down on the damp ground beside him, he doesn’t so much as flinch.
He blows out a long breath, and I wrap my arm around his shoulders in comfort. It’s then that I look at the stone in front of him.
PAINE: ROSEWOOD HIGH #2 Page 25
