“We can’t be friends,” I said after a few moments, already weary with this conversation. “That’s just it, okay? I really don’t want to talk about this. I’m not trying to be rude, but there’s nothing to say. I don’t want to see him. End of story.”
I don’t want to see him. The thing about that was that it was only partially true. I was too embarrassed and ashamed to see him, but I missed him. It had only been a week, but I missed his smart ass comments, his wit and charm, and—I stopped myself with a shake of my head.
Brit pushed her hair off her forehead. “Alright, but I want to ask one question and I want a fucking honest answer, okay?”
My eyes widened. “Okay.”
“Did he try something?”
“What?” I shrieked.
She met my stare. “Did he hurt you or something?”
“Oh, my God, no.” I stood, running my hands down my hips. “Cam didn’t do anything. I promise you. He didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me. Okay. Please don’t think that about him.”
Brit nodded slowly. “I didn’t think he would’ve, but I had to ask. I had to know.”
She stayed for a little while longer, switching the conversation to her latest hook up with Jimmie, and for a while I forgot about Cam and the whole mess.
When she left, she stopped at the door and turned back to me. “Just in case you’re wondering, when I talked to Cam, he was really worried about you. He was upset. Whatever went down between you two, I hope you guys can work it out, because…”
“Because what?”
She pressed her lips together, exhaling through her nose. “Because I think the guy really does care about you, Avery. And I think you really care about him. It would be a fucking shame if you guys couldn’t fix this or work this out over some bullshit.”
#
With the semester winding down, I threw myself into finals. With the incomplete in astronomy, I needed to ace all my exams to just to make myself feel somewhat better after making such a crazy decision. More than once over the last week or so, I wanted to punt kick myself in the face for taking an incomplete. In those very rare logical moments, I cursed myself every which way from Sunday. It was a stupid, stupid decision, especially over a boy, but there was nothing I could do now. I’d missed the last two weeks of class and there was no way I could make up for that.
As I finished up my last final of the semester—music—I headed to the train station where my car was parked. Facing the brutal wind that seemed to blow straight in my eyes, I pulled out my cell. There were a couple of unread texts from Cam over the last week, one from the UNKNOWN CALLER who apparently got tired of calling me a whore over voicemail and moved on to texting it. Just like I avoided my cousin’s emails, I did the same with Cam’s texts.
I didn’t delete them though. I’m not sure why. I just couldn’t do it.
There was a missed call from Brit. She wanted to get together before she headed home for winter break. Neither her nor Jacob brought up the stuff with Cam again, but it hung between us every time we were together. After leaving campus, I headed to the grocery store for the long overdue trip. I milled through the aisles, not really finding anything appetizing, but more of just throwing stuff in my cart.
On the way out, I spotted Ollie heading into the pizza joint at the end of the strip mall. We were less than a mile from the apartments, so it wasn’t a surprise to see him there, but I stopped in the middle of the parking lot, my heart pounding. He didn’t look over my way, probably didn’t even see me, but I saw him and I thought of that stupid tortoise.
A lump appeared in my throat and I inhaled sharply. Tears burned the back of my eyes as I forced myself to the back of my car. I unloaded the groceries, focusing on the mundane task until I felt the messy ball of emotion slid back down.
The inevitable happened as I lugged up the last of my groceries.
I heard Cam’s door open and I knew it couldn’t be Ollie. My heart stuttered and I tried to get the door open and get the groceries in before he saw me, except that wasn’t possible. Dismissing the idiotic idea of leaving the groceries in the hall, I bent over, grabbing as many bags as possible.
“Avery.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I froze, three bags of groceries dangling precariously from my aching fingers. My throat closed up as I felt him come closer. It was as if my body was aware of him on some kind of subconscious level.
“Let me help you.”
His deep voice wove its way through my chest, working a shiver from me. I opened my eyes, but kept my gaze glued to what I could see of my apartment. “I got it.”
“Doesn’t look that way,” he replied. “Your fingers are turning purple.”