“All better between you and Cammy?” Paul asked when I walked into my apartment and slammed the front door shut. He was getting a drink out of the fridge.
I stood there gripping my hair and heaving deep breaths.
“Ouch. That good, huh?”
“You left the party early?” I grabbed a beer out of the fridge and plopped on the sofa.
Paul sat next to me. “I’m too old to stay late. Besides, we’ll both be graduating soon, and I should spend my time doing something productive.”
I popped the can open and took a sip. “You’re going to Harvard Graduate School. I think you can waste a little time partying.”
He shrugged and took a gulp before he spoke. “So what happened? She refused to hear your side of the story?”
I took another sip, wishing I could start the night over. “She said she saw us flirting and that I kissed Caroline back,” I muttered. I felt guilty for hurting Cammy. “She didn’t want to talk to me. She wants time, and I don’t blame her.”
“What did you say after that?”
“I...” I shook my head. “I don’t remember. I just left. Even if I got down on my knees and begged, she would have kicked me out. In fact, I don’t remember much about the rest of the night, either. It all happened so fast, even the kiss with Caroline, which didn’t freakin’ mean anything. I think I was too surprised to push her away.” I ran my hand down my face and blew out a long breath. “Cammy hates me. She’s never going to forgive me. This is my fault. I should have stopped Caroline. I guess I was too friendly with her and she got the wrong message. Plus she drank too much. I told her friend to keep an eye out for her before I took off to find Cammy.”
Paul stretched his legs and crossed his ankles on the table. “If you want to get Cammy back, I suggest you do it quickly. I know she told you she wants time, but that will only pull you two apart even more. Just talking from experience.”
I angled my eyebrows. Paul had been my roommate for almost two years, since we moved out of the dorm at the end of our freshman year. We rushed fraternity together at the beginning of our junior year and had been friends ever since then. I met Cammy then. She wasn’t interested in joining a sorority, but she was at one of the open parties supporting her friend Vanessa.
I’d seen Paul regularly with one girl freshman year. They must have broken up. He dated a few here and there after that, but nothing serious. And we’d never talked about his relationship since it happened before I met him.
“You’re talking from experience, huh? What happened?” I thought hearing his story would give me hope that I could fix what I had broken.
He released a long sigh and took a moment before he spoke. “To make a long story short, I would have given her a second chance had she asked for it. I loved her that much, or at least I thought I was in love.” He shifted to face me, his beer can dented on the side from pressing hard. “If you truly love her, then fight for her. Beg her for a second chance. Do everything you can, even if it means to tell your little sis to stay the freakin’ hell away from you. Cammy is never going to trust Caroline ever again. If you want Cammy back, you’ve just lost your little sis. But if you don’t love her, or if you’re not sure, then this would be a good time to break things off.”
I considered his advice.
“You’re going off to graduate school this summer to get your MBA in Los Angeles. How about Cammy? She’s staying here in New York, right?” He didn’t give me time to answer and continued, “Have you two talked about the long-distance relationship? It’s time to grow up, my friend.” He patted my back and stood up. “It’s late. Get some sleep.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I said.
There was no doubt in my mind I loved Cammy and I would do anything for her, even if it meant I would have to cut my friendship with Caroline, but Paul was right. Cammy and I had to have that talk soon, if she gave me a second chance. We’d both received our acceptance letters recently and we both put off talking about it.
I had always planned to move back home, but what about Cammy? Knowing there was no way in hell I could fall asleep, I called a few of the pledges to give them a task. Cammy didn’t want to see me, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t do anything about it indirectly.
I needed my girl to forgive me, and I had to find a way to get her back.
Chapter Three
Not Enough
Cammy
The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed. My body ached as if I had trained for a marathon, and my heart... I wasn’t sure I had one anymore. I felt nothing. Somehow, I felt disoriented from reality and time. But I had responsibilities, the only reason I forced myself out of bed.
There was no way in hell I was going to let Lucas see me with puffy eyes, if he even dared to show up at my apartment again. I’d shoved two spoons in the freezer last night, so I wrapped them in paper towels and placed them over my eyes this morning. Those darn things were so cold, I couldn’t leave them on for long.
I allowed five minutes before I dashed out the door, my hair tied back into a ponytail with a scrunchie and no makeup on. The frozen spoons had alleviated the puffiness somewhat but not entirely. It would have to do.
I had been late to my job several times, no thanks to Lucas who had slept over often, and I couldn’t afford to be late again. I quickly shut out the thought of Lucas and sprinted across the street to the food court where I’d worked for the last year.
“Hey, Gus.” I waved and rushed to the cash register. Not only did I not want to be there, I didn’t want to talk to anyone.
“You’re late.” He frowned, adjusting the stainless-steel containers lined up.
I gave him a small, innocent smile, not really giving a shit what he thought. He had replaced Stacey, the other manager whom I adored. Even though it had been a month, I still missed her. A Backstreet Boys song was playing, and I lost myself in the music.
“Uh, what?” I mouthed the words to the song.
“You’re late,” he repeated, with a sting in his voice.
“Sorry. I’m only late five minutes and we just opened. Besides, nobody comes to the burrito station for breakfast.” I gestured toward the bakery shop across from us. They sold muffins and coffee and all kinds of yummy stuff. As if on cue, as if God played a trick on me, a couple lined up to order.
Gus smirked, but his eyes fell down to my bare legs and my gray penny loafers. Pervert. Or maybe he liked my shoes. I usually didn’t wear shorts to work, but what the hell. It wasn’t like I was working in a professional office.
As lunchtime approached, the line became longer. Tracy, who worked only for three hours every day for lunch, finally arrived. She too was five minutes late. I narrowed my eyes at Gus, who simply rolled his eyes as if to say, yes, I know she’s late and don’t you dare say anything to me.
“Hey, Cammy.” Tracy smiled and went to help Gus. She sported Calvin Klein jeans and jelly platform shoes. A black plastic choker necklace hugged her neck. Not one I would wear, but it looked cute on her.
I smiled in reply with a wave of my hand. We worked fast and diligently, moving the line, but even then the time seemed to creep by. My body weighed a ton. Every step was a struggle, and every word was an effort.