“It’s not my story to tell.” I picked up the pace.
“What the hell does that mean?” he called after me, but I was too focused on the girl ahead of me. She veered to the left away from the flow of kids heading for the cafeteria and headed toward the arts department.
“Hailee,” I shouted as she was about to disappear through the doors.
“Go away, Cameron.” She didn’t even glance back at me. She might as well have ripped out my heart and stomped all over it.
“I just want to talk, please.” I need to talk.
“I’m busy. I have to work on the project.”
Screw the damn project, I wanted to say. I need you.
“Please,” my voice cracked, betraying me but it got her attention. Slowly Hailee turned to face me, her brows knitted together. “What, Cameron?”
“I...” the words lodged in my throat. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s what you wanted to tell me?” She scoffed. “I don’t have time for this. I’ve had a really shitty morning.”
“What’s wrong—”
“Really, Cameron? Or did you just forget the video that Thatcher splashed all over social media?” Hurt burned in her eyes.
Fuck.
“I didn’t... I mean, of course I hadn’t...” But I had. I’d been so preoccupied I’d forgotten all about it. There had been weight conditioning, then practice, and my head was all over the place after the weekend. Way to go jackass. But now she mentioned it, I noticed the stares, the low rumble of whispers from a group of kids passing.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” I snapped, feeling my muscles lock.
“Cameron, don’t.” Hailee’s warning barely penetrated the red mist descending over me.
“Surprised he wants Thatcher’s slut—”
I was on the guy in a second. The air whooshed from his lungs as his back hit the wall, the sound reverberating around us. “What the fuck did you say?” My fingers tightened around his throat, the blood draining from his face.
“I... I...” The kid spluttered.
“Cameron, this isn’t helping.” Hailee moved into my periphery.
“You think you can talk about her like that?”
“Just stop.” The sheer desperation in Hailee’s voice made me loosen my grip and the guy slid down the wall, coughing and spluttering.
“Get the fuck out of here,” I rasped, my eyes fixed on Hailee and not him.
He scurried away and I exhaled a long breath. “It’s been like that all morning?”
Hailee stared at me as if she didn’t recognize me and my chest squeezed.
“What was that?” She seethed. “I don’t need you to protect me, Cameron. I was doing just fine without—”
“Hailee, please.” I closed the distance between us, crowding her against the wall, and caged her in with my hands either side of her head. “I’m sorry, okay? I just—” Fuck. I was screwing everything up. But I couldn’t think straight.
“I need to go.” Hailee let out an exasperated breath, her shoulders sagging with defeat. I wanted to say something to fix it, to fix us, but she wasn’t the only one broken anymore. And when I tried to speak, nothing but a heavy sigh escaped my lips.
“I’ll see you around, Cameron.” She gave me a weak smile and slipped out from between me and the wall, disappearing through the swinging doors, and all I could do was watch.
As the week went on, things only got worse. Jase and I could barely be in the same room together without the tension reaching boiling point. Asher didn’t know whose side to take or why he was even taking sides in the first place. And I wanted to kill someone every time I heard them mention the video of Hailee. Thankfully, shutting that shit down was the one thing we could agree on, and between us we’d quashed any mention of the video in the halls at school.
“Good morning.” Dad breezed into the kitchen.
“Hey.” I stirred the spoon through my cereal with little enthusiasm.
“Big game tomorrow?”
“I guess.”
“Cameron, Son, everything is going to be ok—”
“I can’t do this.” I shoved the bowl away and stood up. “I can’t pretend everything is fine; everything is not fucking fine.”
“Son, look at me.” Dad came to me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “We are going to get through this, Son, all of us. But what I need from you right now, what me and your mom both need, is for you to carry on like normal. Go to school, focus on football, and make us proud.”
“But how can you...” The words died on the tip of my tongue. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that, Dad, not when she’s—”
“Ssh, Son, ssh.” He pulled me into a hug, holding me tight. “We’ll get through this, I promise. I just need you to be strong. Can you do that for me?”
Too choked to reply, I gave him an imperceptible nod. Dad’s hand squeezed the back of my neck, lingering, as if he needed this moment as much as I did. When he pulled away to look at me, I saw the fear in his eyes. It mirrored my own. “Business as usual though, for now, okay?”
I swallowed, the dry air rough against my throat. Dad brought his head to mine and inhaled painfully. He didn’t say anything this time; he didn’t have to. Nothing was okay and everything was on the line. And part of me was pissed they’d kept this from me. But they were the adults, the decision makers. They got to choose how and when to break the news to their kids. Of course, Xander was too young to understand. All he knew was his mommy got sick sometimes, she shouted and cried and then held him tight and apologized over and over. And it was messed up but part of me envied him. On some level, his innocence would protect him from things to come.
My stomach plummeted. “I need to go,” I rushed out, stepping out of Dad’s embrace.
“Cameron—”
“I’m fine, Dad. I just need some air.” And I needed for him to not be looking at me like that. Like the worst had already happened. “I have practice after school, so I’ll be late.”
“Xander will be at Katie’s. Me and your mom will be—”
“Yep, got it.” I grabbed my bag and keys and waved him off. It was a dick move. But I didn’t know how to deal with this, how to handle the anger and fear festering inside of me. I didn’t know how he expected me to go to school and play football like everything was the same.
When really nothing was ever going to be the same again.
We were all gathered around Coach Hasson for his pre-game pep talk. The last twenty-four hours had been a daze, my mind occupied with only two things: Mom; and this crap with Jase, Thatcher, and Hailee. She hadn’t looked twice at me all week and I felt lost. It was crazy, how the one girl I’d spent the best part of six years keeping at arm’s length had become the one girl I wanted by my side more than anything. I’d contemplated trying to talk to her again, to explain, but deep down, I didn’t know what I would say. And if she rejected me again, I wasn’t sure I could handle that.
“Fourteen, your head screwed on right, Son?”