CHAPTER TWELVE
I don’t go toCameron’s party.
At school on Monday I’m miserable without Retha and Travis. I managed to collect enough change around my house to take the bus to school, but I’ll have to find more if I hope to make it through the week. I sit in class, occasionally looking back at Travis’s desk, my heart breaking every time I find it empty. Retha made it to Cleveland and gave me her grandmother’s number. I wish I could talk to her now.
Cameron walks into class, and I’m not sure what I expected. I didn’t think he’d ignore me. He does. His hair hangs close to his face and his black T-shirt is dark and crisp against his jeans when he takes off his coat.
I wait as he sits down, but he still doesn’t say anything. He takes out his phone and begins texting, like I’m not three feet away, staring at him. My face stings a little, and I look down at my desk. Mr. Jimenez is late.
Five minutes pass. The anxiety in my chest is making me crazy. Cameron hasn’t spoken to me. I stare at him again, practically begging him to notice me. I’m too emotionally raw for this shit. Finally I give in.
“I’m sorry I didn’t go to your party,” I say.
His thumbs stop on the phone, but he doesn’t look up. “You weren’t there?” he asks. “I didn’t notice.”
Ouch. “Was it fun?”
“Blast.”
I don’t know what else to say. He doesn’t seemmadmad, which is weird because I sort of want him to be. I want him to ask for an explanation. I want an excuse to tell him about Retha and Travis—even though I won’t tell him about Retha and Travis.
Cameron should be mad at me for making him have a party and then not showing up. But he just starts texting again.
Mr. Jimenez is now ten minutes late, which isn’t cool. Because of the school’s budget, we know subs are pretty much impossible. But . . . we count on him. Sure, we give our teacher a hard time, but we expect him to take it. We expect him to come back.
Gris and Lucinda stand up, exchanging a few words before leaving together. They’re obviously hooking up; I’m not the slightest bit surprised. Although to be honest, she could do better. I look back toward Retha’s desk to tell her, and when she’s not there, it’s a cold splash of reality.
I miss her—I miss Retha and Travis so much that it’s hard to think about them. I just want my friends back. But Travis needs help and he’ll get it. That’s what matters. That’s worth waiting for.
Their absence creates a fire, bravery in my chest. I have to be strong for them. I have to show them I’m all right. I look over at Cameron.
“Who do you text?” I ask him. It’s a bold question and I regret it the second I ask. He looks sideways at me but doesn’t answer.
He might be texting a girl—maybe one from his party. I bet she’s a blonde, a cute, perky blonde. Jealousy squeezes my heart.
“I don’t think we’re having class,” Cameron says. He slides his phone into the pocket of his jeans. “I’m going to take off.”
“Good for you,” I murmur. If my life hadn’t completely blown up, I might have gone to the party. And sure, I wish I had. But now he’s moved on. Didn’t take him long. Obviously I hadn’t beenthatinteresting.
He stands, gathering his things before walking away. I feel rejected, but then halfway to the door, Cameron pauses to look back at me.
“You coming or not?” he asks.
I lift my eyes to his, startled. “What? Where?”
“I don’t know. But I’m sure it’ll be awesome. We can tell each other secrets and shit.”
He wants me to leave with him. He must not hate me after all. And I’m lonely, scared. I need a distraction to pass the time until Retha and Travis get back. Cameron can be that distraction.
“Okay,” I say. Cameron waits for me, and then together we walk out.
We don’t say much on the way to his car, and despite the fact that he invited me along, the tension is thick. So the minute we get inside, I turn to him.
“Is this you getting back at me?” I ask.
“For what?”
It occurs to me that I’m overthinking again. He really might not have even noticed that I wasn’t at his party. “Never mind,” I say.
