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oh Cameron i’m so sorry

i confronted him about it. idk why i thought that was a good idea. i was just so angry, you know? i thought he’d apologize or explain or something. but he didn’t. he just looked at me like i was the problem. like i’d done something wrong by finding out

I can picture it. Cameron at sixteen, still soft-faced, still boyish, standing in front of his father, his hands probably shaking, his earnest voice probably cracking. Cameron being brave and so fucking naive.

what did he do?

he sent me to Scotland. said it was for my education, that it would be good for me to experience something different. but i knew the truth. he wanted me gone. he wanted me out of the way so i wouldn’t tell my mom

I stare at the screen, thinking. I didn’t know this about Cameron. I feel the sudden urge to pull that young Cameron into my arms and comfort him. Shit. This is what he does to me. He makes me weak. I need to stay focused.

did you tell her?

no i couldn’t. she loves him. i didn’t want to be the one to ruin that for her. so i went to scotland and i didn’t say anything

that must have been so hard. being away from her for so long

it was the worst thing i’ve ever been through. i missed her every single day

I read the message again. A sudden and unexpected heat rushes to my chest. I was right. We all have shitty dads. His dad is a bastard for sending him away and making him carry that secret.

i’m really sorry you went through that. sounds like Scotland wasn’t easy for you

it wasn’t

can i ask, was it just the separation from your mom that was hard? or was there something else?

Another pause. I can’t help my curiosity. All I wanted during my Cameron years at St. Silas was to know what he was thinking and feeling. And now, I finally have the chance.

I wait, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.

it was a lot of things. the school was intense. the culture was different. i didn’t really fit in

different how?

just aggressive i guess. everyone was always trying to prove something. felt like you couldn’t let your guard down for a second or someone would use it against you

He’s not wrong, but I hadn’t realized how much it bothered him. I accepted it for what it was: a hostile training ground where boys learned the patrician practices of their fathers and grandfathers, the most important of which was how to be an asshole.

that sounds really stressful. did anyone ever…

sorry i don’t mean to pry but i’ve heard stories about things that happen at boarding schools. abuse i mean. did anything like that ever happen to you?

I hold my breath. I don’t know why I asked. Or maybe I do. I need to know if someone touched him, hurt him, did something to him that I don’t know about. Because I know everything about Cameron. I’ve made it my business to know everything. And the idea that there’s something, or someone, I don’t know about sends me spiraling.

I run through the teachers at St. Silas in my mind. Who would have had access to him? Who would have been alone with him? If someone touched him, I’ll kill them. I don’t care who it is. No one touches him except me.

The response comes, and I exhale.

no nothing like that. it was more like bullying i guess. but bad. i don’t really want to talk about it

Bullying.

I stare at the word.

Who?

Does he mean me?