6:59 (30 page)

Anjolie

I sat on the swing, swinging back and forth slowly, staring at the multi-colored bark that littered the ground beneath my feet. It was getting pretty dark out, the sun beginning to set behind the horizon. The playground was basically deserted, the only remnants of child-play being the lone soccer ball lying at the end of a slide.

Checking my clock, I saw that it was a quarter to six.

If I managed to hide out here long enough, he wouldn't be Cameron anymore — just Cam — and he would go right on home and leave me alone here.

I wouldn't even have to see him.

I was more than angry at Olive. Everything about that girl just made me want to kill her. She was so mean, so immature, so like Cam that it made me sick. How could Cameron ever fall for a girl like that? She was utterly disgusting in my eyes.

And thinking about them kissing on the blanket like that, like no one else was around, made bile rise up my throat, threatening to escape from my lips and ruin my already destroyed clothing. I couldn't stand her. I couldn't stand them together. I couldn't stand this whole world.

Everything she said about me was a lie. I didn't force Cameron to drive me anywhere! And
Hudson
was the one who offered me the shopping spree! And I don't even give a
crap
about Cam! How could she say that I use them all like that? She was just desperate, that's what it was. She felt threatened about my presence so she decided to call me out.

What an idiot.

Sighing, I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and raked a hand through my hair, allowing it to fall into my face and crowd my breathing space. I looked at my silver bracelet; the one Petra gave me the other day. They were all being so nice to me ever since Cameron came over the other day. They would smile at me and give me gifts, never ceasing to compliment me. I felt loved suddenly, knowing that without Cameron's help, my home life would still be miserable.

My heart lunged at the thought of him, engulfing me with warmness and softness. I could feel my heart slowly melting away its previous ice shield, heating up and pumping gently beneath my rib cage. And just as I began to feel the butterflies multiply within my stomach, I immediately crushed the feelings as quickly as they came.

Olive is his girlfriend.

I am his friend.

Olive is his girlfriend.

I am his friend.

I continued to chant those two sentences inside my head, trying my hardest to believe them.

But I couldn't. I just couldn't.

“Hey,” came a soft voice from behind me, interrupting the war inside my mind. I didn't even have to turn around to figure out who it was. Without waiting for my response, he gently wrapped his hands around mine, gripping the both of our hands onto the two chains that held up the seat of my swing. His touch felt warm and soft, like blankets for my fingers. “Are you okay?” he asked, his breath warm against my ear.

I didn't answer.

Sighing, he let go of my hands, sliding his own slowly down my forearms, around my bent elbows, and up biceps, coming to a rest at my shoulders. He laid them there for a moment, saying nothing as I silently struggled beneath the heavenly weight of his warm hands on my bare shoulders. I felt as if I were going to explode.

Then he began massaging my shoulders.

Okay, now I'm
really
going to explode.

He continued massaging my shoulders in silence as I kept my head bent down, staring at my lap. It was a good thing he was behind me; I was blushing like a madwoman and I did
not
want him to see that. As the massaging continued, I allowed myself to surrender to his warming hands, taking in all of the pleasurable feelings that had slowly erupted once more inside of my body.

It was a long while before he bent down, lips near my ear and said, “If it makes you feel any better, you smell delicious.” I could hear the smile on his lips. I giggled a little, shaking my head and rolling my eyes. Cameron always knew how to make someone feel better — physically
and
mentally.

He ceased his massaging and slowly walked over to the nearest swing, sitting on it and facing me. He kicked at the ground and started to slowly drift back and forth, the chains making a slight squeaking noise from his weight. It was silent as I watched him stare at the dirt, gathering his thoughts. Feeling the need to do something myself, I kicked at the ground, too, and joined him, our swings matching the same rhythm but going in opposite directions.

Finally, after a long moment of silent oscillating, Cameron softly muttered, “Sorry. For everything.” He didn't look at me — he just kept drifting back and forth, gazing at the orange horizon.

“It's not your fault.” And it wasn't. Nothing was ever his fault.

Cameron hesitated momentarily before saying, “It is, though.” I saw his mouth frown as his eyebrows furrowed together. “I shouldn't have let her say those things to you.”

I shrugged. “Nothing would have stopped her from saying anything,” I responded.

Cameron shook his head with frustration. “I shouldn't have allowed her to keep seeing Cam,” he said.

I shrugged once more, repeating my previous words. “Again, nothing would have stopped her from seeing him.”

Cameron frowned, opening his mouth to offer more doubts, but closed it after seeing my halting gaze. He stared out into the distance, the look of defeat clouding his expression. It looked as if he were going to continue, but he didn't. He just kept swinging back and forth, back and forth, offering nothing else. He and I both knew that Olive had a mind of her own — no one could stop her.

It was a while before either of us said anything. The sun was setting pretty quickly. I was about to tell Cameron to go home before he blacked out on the swings, when he suddenly blurted out, “I like you, Anjolie. A lot.”

My eyes bulged, my breath stopping within my throat, my heart ceasing to beat.

What did he just say
?

His swings were stopped now as he stared at me, watching me intently. I tried my best to remain cool and collected but HE JUST SAID THAT HE LIKED ME! How could I maintain a cool demeanor in this situation?

I pulled my swing to a halt as well, looking at him and meeting his intense eyes. A stalemate ensued, neither of us saying anything. My heart was beating so loudly, but I could tell that by the way he was looking at me, he wanted me to say something, to respond.

I gulped, taking inconspicuous breaths as I tried to clear my racing thoughts. He was waiting. I had to say something.

“I—I like you, too, Cameron,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Cameron smiled at me, his whole face going from severely intense to super overjoyed. “Thanks, that means a lot to me, Anjolie,” he said, grinning. He looked down at the floor and kicked at the bark beneath his shoes. “You're so cool and laid-back and you let nothing stand in your way,” he explained, smiling to himself.

I was now sure that the small blush I was feeling moments ago was now covering my entire face in an embarrassing cherry-red color. My face most likely matched the cherry stain on my shirt.

Cameron continued to shower me with compliments. “You're strong and level-headed; blunt and sincere, and you manage to maintain that sensible composure of yours throughout any situation — no matter how hard it is.” He looked up at me, smiling. “If I could have even an ounce of your personality, I would be a better man.”

I smiled sheepishly. “Thank you, Cameron. Really,” I said, smiling widely and grinning like an idiot. But I couldn't help it; nobody has ever said such nice things to me before. Ever.

Cameron smiled and stood up, coming to stand in front of me. He dug his hands into his pockets and leaned down to me, his eyes level with mine.

He was going to kiss me.

All of my senses stopped working. I couldn't breathe at all. I basically died, anticipating what he was going to do.

Smiling, he said, “You're a really good friend, Anjolie. And I like you for that.”

There it was. The “F” word.

Suddenly, my spirits came crashing to the floor, crumbling into zillions of tiny little pieces and scattering all over the place.

Olive was his girlfriend.

I was his friend.

Olive was his girlfriend.

I was his friend.

It all made sense now. I was only his friend. Nothing was going to change that as long as he was with that lousy Olive. I would remain in his friend territory, never to escape no matter how much I tried. All those new clothes, all those conversations, all those times we spent together only strengthened our friendship. That was all.

Cameron was talking to me, but I couldn't hear him — I was lost in my own thoughts. It was only when Cameron gently tugged on one of my locks that I tuned into what he was saying. “Earth to Anjolie…” he was saying, his head cocking from side to side, the kind smile still remaining on his lips.

I shook my head, shrinking away from his gaze. “Oh, yeah, huh?” I said, focusing on his words. “What were you saying?”

He laughed, the warm sound wafting through my ears. “I said we have to go. I don't want to blackout here in the park,” he said, grabbing my hand and standing me up. He pulled me in for a gentle hug, his arms warming my limbs. I didn't pull away.
He
did.

I mutely followed him back to his car, my hand still gripped in his. I didn't know what else to say to him. I was emotionally paralyzed.

I would remain his friend.

Olive was his girlfriend.

Olive

“Why did you just slam the door?” Abby shrieked at me after I'd just crashed into the house with a fury of a thousand suns. She stared at me in awe as I marched into the kitchen with fire in my eyes, as I sat myself down at the kitchen table, as I forcefully shoveled the cruddy spaghetti into my mouth.

“
I asked you a question
,” Abby said, pointing at me with her fork. Her hazel eyes had narrowed and her pink-lipsticked lips pursed tightly together.

“Abby, it's
nothing
,” I said after swallowing a huge, gross gulp of her “Italian” spaghetti. Frankly it tasted like wet rubber bands. I tried hard not to gag.

Abby stared at me for a while, trying to piece together what could possibly be wrong with me. That's what she always did. Whenever anything was up with me, she'd size up my day and who I'd hung out with, then draw her own conclusions that way. It was her own way of playing the “motherly” role.

Finally, she spoke. “You went on that picnic today,” she said, digging into her spaghetti. “Was it that stupid boy, Cameron, who has you ticked off like this?” she asked, surprisingly hitting it right on the nose. She was
good
.

“Cameron is annoying me right now,” I said, giving up on the spaghetti and grabbing at the bread rolls. “He's acting nice and all, but he doesn't have his priorities in check. It annoys me.”

“What priorities?” Abby asked, giving up on the spaghetti, too.

“He's not acting like a boyfriend to me,” I said, summing it all up into one sentence. Because it was true!

Abby shook her head, disgust behind her heavily-lined eyelashes. “I told you not to hang around that boy. He's
not
a good boy anymore. You saw how he treated you! How he treated
me
! This is what you get when you don't listen to me.” Great. This was turning into a lecture — something that Abby did best. Frankly, I was in no mood for this lecture at all. I needed to let off this steam that was collecting. I needed someone to actually
listen
to me. I couldn't keep this in any longer. I wanted to scream.

It was as if a higher being were listening to my plea when I got that text message.

im awake. wanna party?

****

“
Someone
looks angry,” Cam said to me as I jumped into his car. Just sitting in his car, engulfed with his musky shower smell and the car's loud hip-hop music, I suddenly felt real again. It felt good to sit by someone who was actually sane for once. “What happened to you?” He pressed on the accelerator and zoomed down the street, away from our neighborhood.

I sighed heavily and tangled my hands into my hair, letting it pour around my face like a black blanket. “I'm just tired of this right now,” I finally said, sitting up and looking at him. “Today was probably the worst day of my life.”

He glanced at me. “I thought the day you farted during silent reading was the worst day of your life,” he said with a smirk on his gorgeous lips.

I smacked his arm. “I told you not to bring that up again!” I said, laughing for the first time today.

“Hey, anything you tell me is free game, honey,” he said, going ninety on a sixty-five miles-per-hour highway. At first his speeding had my heart racing a mile a minute, but now it was just a usual thing. Cam frowned at me. “Tell me what sucked so much about today,” he said.

I pushed my legs up onto the dashboard and turned down the rap music. “Okay so you know how I had that picnic today?” I asked, gagging just thinking about it. I wished I could erase the whole memory of it all. When Cam nodded, I continued. “Yeah, so I decided to call out Anjolie's crap.”

“You did?” Cam asked, his eyes brightening. “That's my girl!” He tossed his hand onto my head and ruffled my hair.

I laughed and pushed him off. “Of course I did,” I said. “Just—just everything about her seems so fake to me, I just couldn't help it.”

“What did you say?”

“I just called her out on her ‘woe is me' crap,” I said, fiddling with his cell phone. I started a random game as I talked. “Ever since Cameron started picking her up from school and stuff, I got to thinking. Like, take this for instance: Why is it that she has Cameron drive her to school every day?”

“Because she's weak?” Cam offered, raising his eyebrows.

“You and I both know that's not true,” I said with a smile. “You said so yourself that she lifts and eats like a body-builder.”

“Exactly, but she's making it seem like she can't walk a few miles because she's tiny and stuff,” Cam said, shaking his head in disgust. “She's a liar. I know because she sent me on a mission to the top of some huge mountain to see if gold was up there. She and I went up there, saw there wasn't any gold, and had to climb all the way back down. That was the longest eight hours of my life.
She
got down in four.”

“
Right
?” I pointed out, anger swelling inside me. “So what's the problem with walking to school? She's just trying to use Cameron because he has to be the
nicest
guy in school. And he happens to drive the hottest car.” I stared out the window, running my hand over the seat enviously.

Cam gaped at me. “
I
was the one that bought this car,” he pointed out. “Dad let
me
pick it out. So she's getting free rides off of my car.”

I laughed, knowing how right he was. “I know, right? And she knows that it sucks for Cameron every morning to try to wake up. She could cut his morning routine in
half
if she just walked her butt to his house and waited for him to get ready like a normal carpooler would. I mean, that's what I did when I had to hitch rides with Hudson.”

“She's trying to get at him, you know that right?” Cam said, cutting the engine after parking in a dark parking lot. “She is
so
sneaky, that girl.”

“I know! And now she has my best and
only
friend, Hudson, against me because I had to call her bluff. I saved her the humility by refraining from calling out the real reason she's carpooling with Cameron. I just said it was because she was acting like a charity case — which she totally was!”

Cam shook his head, staring down at his lap. “I told you Anjolie was messed up,” he said, opening his car door. “She just won't admit it.”

The two of us walked up to the club, scoping out the area for any shady-looking people. When the coast was clear, we walked up to the bouncer, a fellow Gray Eyes, and he let us in without a second thought. Cam and I were immediately enveloped in colors, fog, people, and music. Cam grinned widely and took my hand as he led me inside.

Right off the bat, my stomach started to ache. I wanted to write it off as the aftermath of Abby's cooking, but I already knew why. It was because I was going to be expected to dance. Dancing, unlike most people, is one of my
greatest
fears — right up there with tarantulas and dying. Every time I even thought about dancing, I immediately felt my throat close up and my heart race.

So why did I have to agree to this?

I know why. Because I wanted to spend time with my boyfriend. Okay, scratch that. Cam was technically not my boyfriend. But ever since Cameron and I have started dating, I've rarely seen him at all during the day. A regular day for him is this:

he wakes up,

speeds to Anjolie's house to take her to school,

spends his day in his classes seeing me only one period of the day — first period,

sees me for a second at the end of the day,

drives Anjolie right back home,

goes back to his house to study and do homework,

sees me the half-hour before he blacks out,

then he blacks out. And sometimes I don't even get that half-hour with him.

I mean, I know how hard it is for him to cope with school and a girlfriend at the same time, but how come he can't drive
me
to school? And whatever happened to the weekends? But, no. On the weekends he's busy with college visits and piano lessons and church functions. Like, seriously? I'm his neighbor for crying out loud!

So that's why I spend my nights with Cam. I mean, it's not like I'm spending them with Armando or something. This guy actually shares Cameron's body. How's that for loyalty?

“I
love
this song,” Cam said, tugging me onto the dance floor, splashing me out of my previous thoughts and sending me into a world of panic.

I went rigid as he pulled me to the center of the crowded dance floor. The music was suddenly all-consuming; I could barely hear my thoughts. Cam had this huge smile on his face as he nodded his head to the music. When he finally made it to the right spot, he grabbed both my hands and started dancing. Honestly, he looked like a rock star. His moves were so effortless and unforced. He just moved his body to the beat, not flailing around like crazy.

But I, on the other hand, stood there like a deer caught in headlights. The only parts of my body that allowed themselves to move were my arms and that was just because Cam was holding onto them. My legs were planted firmly on the ground and my body was as hard as stone. I felt like screaming.

Cam quickly noticed me not dancing and pulled me up to him. “Why aren't you dancing?” he yelled into my ear over the pumping music. “You look like a deer caught in headlights.” He took the words right out of my mouth.

Instantly a blush flooded over my body, turning my skin a sickly red color. “I—I can't dance.” That was the understatement of the year.

Instead of twisting his face into a contorted look of horror like Hudson had, Cam just laughed and stepped back. He placed his firm hands on my hips and yelled, “Just move your hips to the beat.” He smiled at me, nodding his head in encouragement.

I could've acted stubbornly and stomped off the dance floor, but by the way he was staring at me with a totally un-cocky smile, I knew that whatever crappy dance I threw out at him would be received with nothing less than encouragement.

So I moved.

My hips moved from side to side awkwardly, but at least I was moving. Cam's smile widened and he began moving his hips, too. “Okay, now move your arms to the beat — like you're running,” he instructed, taking his hands away from my hips and moving his arms.

I mimicked his moves, moving my arms. Frankly, I thought I looked like a freak, but by the way he was smiling at me, I couldn't be dancing
that
bad.

“Now move your feet like this.” He stepped from side to side easily, combining all steps together.

I did as he did, but was suddenly confused with how many steps I had to keep track of. When Cam kept dancing, I was able to watch his moves and finally fall into the beat of the music. We danced like that for a little until Cam started doing other dance moves that I could
not
keep up with. So I just stayed at “home plate” with the hip and arm thing.

When another song came on, Cam stepped up to me and took my hand. Then he moved behind me and started dancing. I immediately froze. I mean, you would too if you had just learned how to dance and suddenly had to grind. I've seen the dance many times before on the TV and at Abby's “grown-up” functions. But never had I ever had to do it. But now, as Cam pressed his front against my back, I had no clue what to do.

Cam so gratefully saved me the mortal embarrassment. “Just keep moving your hips, Liv,” he said with a laugh. He put his hands on my hips again and moved his hips in tune with mine. At first, the dance was awkward. I was just staring out into space, a million thoughts flying around my clouded mind.

It was only when he put his chin on my shoulder did I finally loosen up. We danced like that for a few songs, him laughing and pointing at other couples on the dance floor, making fun of their moves. I didn't even realize how long we danced before Cam called it quits.

“Let's get a drink before we die of exhaustion,” he said, squeezing my hand. I laughed and pulled away from him, still — surprisingly — dancing to the music.

We pushed our way through the crowd, trying to find his friends. Cam had told me before that he was meeting his Gray Eyes friends tonight and that they'd have a table.

“You are so much better a dancer than you give yourself credit, Liv.” He complimented me as we scanned the seating area. “I could dance with you forever.”

That compliment alone made a goofy smile spread across my blushing face. I brushed my hair into my face and shrugged nonchalantly. “Beginner's luck,” I said.

When we got to our table, I nearly choked with disgust. Anjolie was sitting there with the other two Gray Eyes that I had saved on that mission at the mansion. They were all dressed mainly in black like we were supposed to, drinking their drinks like they owned the place. The two of us slid in to join them.

“Waddup, girl,” the guy Gray Eyes said, his dark, brown hair shielding his gray eyes. He wore a black cardigan over a red v-neck with black jeans.

I gave him the head nod. “Hey… I didn't get your name,” I said.

“Aspen,” he said, downing the cup of clear liquid. He winced when he set it back down. Then he nodded at the other girl. “That's my sister, Harper.”

I knew they were related
. Harper had the same dark hair and features as her brother, but her skin was so pale, it almost glowed. She was skinny, but not as skinny as Anjolie, and she had this innocent pout that made her look as if she wouldn't hurt a fly. “Hiya, girlie,” she said with a happy smile. She sipped her drink with a big, red straw.

Anjolie said nothing to me. She just stared at her phone as she texted.

Aspen was the one to speak again. “So, girl, what brings you here?” he asked, motioning for another drink. The waitress spotted him and ran up to the bar.

“She's here with me,” Cam said, wrapping a possessive arm around my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder. “We're having a little fun tonight.”

Anjolie glared at Cam, daggers flying out in all directions from her gaze alone. “You have a mission to do,” she said curtly, clenching her sharp teeth.

Cam just snorted and grabbed Harper's drink. He took a long swig from the sweet smelling liquid and then pushed it back to her. “Screw you, Anj,” he said after wiping his mouth.

“
Ohhh
,” Aspen said, covering his mouth with his fist. “You gonna take that, Anj?” He glanced at her, egging her on with his nudging hand.

Anjolie swatted his hand away. “Cam, you do your mission or I'm contacting El Rey,” she threatened, as if we were scared of her. I just rolled my eyes and wrapped my arms around Cam's waist.

“You do
your
mission,” he said, blowing her off. “You may be the boss and all, but you sure aren't acting like one. Until you grow some balls, you can't tell me what to do.”

Anjolie stared at Cam for a long time, her eyes bubbling into a madness so frightening, I almost felt scared. But then I realized who we were dealing with — weak little Anjolie who couldn't walk a few miles to school every day. Weak little Anjolie who couldn't be more desperate.

The waitress came to our table, five drinks in hand as she set the tray down. Aspen smiled a warm smile at her and slipped her a few bills. She gratefully took the tip and walked back onto the dance floor.

“Got a round of drinks,” Aspen said, passing the drinks down the table. “All in?” he asked. His eyes were on me. I stared at him, wondering if he was trying to peer pressure me into drinking. I mean, I've had a few drinks before in my life and I wasn't too pretty when drunk. I did
not
want to look like a weirdo in front of these guys.

“I'm good,” I said, resting my head on Cam's shoulder.

Aspen kept staring at me as he drank down his drink. He set the cup down, pinching his lips together as the burning liquid poured down his throat. “You're missing out,” he said.

“I don't want any either,” Harper said, smiling at me. She pushed her drink towards Aspen. “I'm better with the sweet stuff.” Her voice sounded so childish, it felt as if I were sitting across from a five-year-old. She sucked on the red straw again.