“You can’t talk to me like that,” she says, her voice rising.
Baylee comes over to us, her expression full of worry. “Cami, don’t make a scene.”
“Shut up,” she snaps at her supposed best friend, though her venom is all for me. I can see it in her eyes. “We have unfinished business, Garcia.”
“What’s done is done.” The absolute biggest regret of my life is standing in front of me, reminding me of what a fuck up I am. How I messed everything up with the girl I loved. The rumors spread so damn fast, incinerated by Cami, and there was no way I could control them. People believe what they want to believe.
Even if it’s not true.
“I don’t think so.” She taps her black fingernail against her pursed lips, contemplating me. “You can’t just walk away from me.”
“I already did,” I say through clenched teeth. I don’t want to deal with her anymore. Ever. And I hate how she showed up, just as I was having a good conversation with Jocelyn. As usual, Cami fucks everything up.
Well, I fucked it up originally. I have to take responsibility for most of this mess. It’s not all Cami’s fault.
“Cami, come on,” Baylee says, grabbing hold of Cami’s arm. “Let’s go wait for our food at a table.”
Cami glares, letting Baylee drag her away, her gaze never leaving mine. I glare in return, reveling in the anger bubbling inside of me. Wishing I could throw down on this chick, just to give her a taste of her own damn medicine, but I would never. I don’t hit women.
Not like my dad.
The second they’re at a table, their heads bent close as they furiously whisper, I’m out of there. I push through the swinging door that leads into the kitchen, tearing off my apron as I head for my boss, the owner, Pete. He’s standing outside of his office door, watching me as I approach. “I need to take a break,” I tell him.
He eyes me up and down, probably feeling the hostility vibrating off of me. “Go for it. I’ll have Kristi watch the front.”
“Thanks.” I ball my red apron in my fist, tunnel vision leading me toward the back door that opens out onto the parking lot. I stand directly out back, at the spot where some of us smoke when we take our break, and I pull out a trashed pack of cigarettes I keep lodged in between two old bricks that make up the siding of the building.
I’m not much of a smoker, but lately, I’ve been puffing away on cigs while on work breaks, just to take my mind off the bullshit. Can’t show up to work high as a motherfucker all the time, so this is the next best thing.
Even though it’s gross. And it can kill me.
Fuck it.
Inhaling deeply, I wait for the nicotine to hit, ducking around the corner when I see Cami and Baylee exit the restaurant. Baylee’s carrying the bag of food and both drinks, while Cami is ranting on, waving her hands about.
Bitching about me.
“You’d think that asshole would be thrilled to see me. Of course, he’d be hanging out with his pregnant ex when we show up.” She sounds absolutely disgusted.
“Let it go, Cam. You’ve got Wyatt now. You and Diego were never going to work,” Baylee practically begs.
Baylee’s not wrong.
“We could’ve,” Cami says, a sulk in her voice. That’s what I hate about her the most. She sulks. She pouts. She practically stomps her feet and has a tantrum, like she’s a pissed-off toddler. She’s not pleasant to be with, not even sexually. You find that out real quick, because she comes at you strong and hard, acting like she’s sweet. Acting like she’s interested. It’s all smoke and mirrors. The minute she thinks she has you in her claws, her true self comes out to play, and she’s not much fun.
This is why guys don’t stick around. Jake was the only one who got completely ensnared by her, but I bet he blames that on youth. We were young and she was pretty. I get it.
I get why he wants to have nothing to do with her now. I feel the same exact way.
The girls get into Cami’s car, Baylee shuffling the drinks and food around before she slides inside, and I watch as they drive away. They never spotted me, thank God.
I feel sorry for Baylee. I don’t know why she puts up with Cami’s shit, but I figure, eventually, she’ll be gone too. Everyone abandons Cami. Friends. Boyfriends. Never that bitch of a mother of hers though. Cami refuses to take responsibility for not keeping friends or boyfriends around. She thinks everyone else is in the wrong, and her mother encourages that mindset.
My dad told me once a long time ago that if you think everyone around you is acting like an asshole, then maybe you need to take a step back and look at yourself. Because you’re probably the asshole.
It’s the most valuable advice he’s ever said to me, not that he’s given me much.
In Cami’s case, she’s the asshole. Always. But she never sees it.
What’s that like, moving through life as if nothing can touch you? As if you never do wrong? I fuck up left and right, and I know it, even though sometimes—a lot of the time—I don’t take responsibility for my actions either.
Shit. Maybe Cami and I are more alike than I thought.
As I suck on my cigarette, my mind shifts to Jocelyn. Seeing her walk into the restaurant alone earlier had been a complete shock. I keep tabs on her, thanks to our mutual friends, and I thought she was going out of town for break.
But she’s here. All alone in that big house of hers, with no family around. Is that safe, considering her condition? There’s no one to protect her. And if she’d never come in, I would’ve never known.
Now I know. And I want to be the one to watch over her. She’s my responsibility. Her and the baby.
She looked so pretty. Even a little different, but not in a bad way. Her face was fuller, and her hair looked thicker. I did some research and read that your nails and hair grow faster when you’re pregnant. Found out some other stuff too. Like she might be able to know what the sex of the baby is soon, though it’s probably still too early. If I had my choice, I’d want a boy. A little mini me who I can teach how to catch a football.
Not that I can teach him anything for a while. He’ll be too small. And crying all the time. Babies are needy. Helpless. Time consuming. How is Jocelyn going to handle going to college and being a mom? I know she still plans on going to school. I overheard her friend Sam talking about Jocelyn giving up on her San Diego State dream, and how she’ll go to Fresno State now.
I feel bad that she’s giving up on her dream, but I’m also secretly glad she’s sticking around. Like me. I’ll more than likely be at Fresno State too, playing football.
Hopefully.
If Coach Callahan caught me smoking right now? He’d have a freakin’ coronary. He’d rip the cigarette out of my mouth and stomp all over it, all the while giving me a big ol’ guilt ridden speech. Smoking is bad for my lungs. It’ll fuck with my running ability and slow me down. But right now, I’m under an enormous amount of stress, and it helps soothe my frayed nerves.
At least for a little while.
Besides the fact that the biggest game of my life is coming up and oh, I’m going to be a daddy here in about five to six months, I also have other concerns. Like my mother.
I still haven’t told her about Jocelyn and the baby. And when she finds out? She might try and whip my ass. She could probably do it too. My mama is scary sometimes. This is why I haven’t told her yet. And for whatever reason, Mateo still hasn’t ratted me out either. Maybe because the bastard is up to no good and dipping into my so-called secret cash fund on the regular. I ended up taking a bunch of the money I had in cash to the bank, where I deposited it all into my savings account. I was short about three hundred and I know where it all went.