“No, really, Sutton. What would I be getting back at you for?” Cameron asks. “The fact that my parents rented tables and chairs? Or that my mom had it catered because she thought you loved Cantonese food?” His face grows serious. “Or maybe the fact that I waited by the door, checking every few minutes, to see if you were just too chickenshit to come inside?”
“Yeah. Any of those.” Although I feel terrible, at the same time I’m glad he cares. I like how it makes me feel. “Did you really wait by the door for me?” I ask quietly.
“No.”
“You did, didn’t you?” I ask.
“For like a second.” Cameron waves his hand as if I’m making a big deal out of nothing. “And to answer your question, no. I’m not getting back at you. I just . . . can we hang out?”
“I don’t really like Cantonese food,” I say. “So maybe it’s good that I didn’t let your mom down.”
He laughs. “Maybe.”
I’ll let him down too. It’s a sobering thought, and I lower my head.
I feel Cameron watching me. “Why didn’t you come to my party?” he asks. His voice is hesitant, like he’s worried about my answer.
“It’s—” I’m about to tell him it’s none of his business, but instead, my eyes well up, heartache stings in my chest. I don’t have anyone else to tell. Nobody else cares.
“Savannah?” Cameron says, and lightly touches my arm.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to keep my composure. “Travis, Retha’s boyfriend, OD’d. He was sent away to recover. Retha’s with him.” I say it all simply, trying to take the emotion out of it, but when I look at Cameron again, a tear falls on my cheek. I quickly brush it away. “He almost died,” I add.
“Shit,” he says. “I’m so sorry.” I nod and thank him. I appreciate that his sympathy doesn’t feel like pity.
“Can I take you somewhere?” he asks. He wants to help me—I know that. But I also know that he can’t solve my problems.
“We can go to my house?” he offers. “We can talk there.”
“I shouldn’t,” I say.
“Then do you want to invite me to yours?”
“Definitelynot,” I say, widening my eyes.
“Uh . . . then all signs are pointing to McDonald’s. Are you hungry?”
“Not really.”
Cameron exhales. “You’re making this really hard.”
“And what isthis?” I look over at him. “Because in case you didn’t notice, my life sucks right now.” It’s so confusing, liking him but knowing I can’t tell him. Knowing that even if he does like me back, we can’t be together. How can I have a boyfriend when I have to take care of Evan? My brother is my first priority. Not some guy. Not even Cameron.
“Yeah, I did notice,” Cameron says, putting his hands in the air. “But I still want to be your friend. Why are you making it so difficult?”
“You want to be my friend?” I mean it to sound bitchy, but it doesn’t come out that way. It sounds hopeful.
“Sort of. If you stop being so mean to me.”
I watch him a moment, and despite my reluctance, I laugh. “That will be difficult,” I say.
“I believe in you,” he says. “So what do you think? Could you use a new friend?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Okay, maybe a little,” I say.
