26

 

 

 

As expected, reality hits sooner than later. The shock has worn off, the undeniable truth immediately taking its place.

The situation slams into me like a freight train, knocking me on my ass and deflating me like a popped balloon.

I'll admit it—I am a wreck.

I've been in major Eeyore-mode all week long, moping around every corner of Windhaven.

I moped in Biology class, I moped at the gym, and I moped all over my dorm, sending off grumpy-cat vibes until Crimson couldn't take it anymore. She lit at least a dozen candles, opened our window, then demanded I leave the room for a little while.

Apparently my aura was, and I quote, "stinking up the place and preventing her from achieving proper manifestation".

Well excuse me!

So now here I am. The campus quad. Ready to collapse onto the grassy lawn and mope some more.

Woohoo.

I take a seat, tossing my backpack aside as I glance around at the plethora of people hanging out on this late Friday afternoon.

Some dude is butchering Wonderwall on a guitar that desperately needs to be tuned.

A tall, lanky student dressed in 18th-century attire is straddling a statue of a horse, performing some sort of dramatic monologue as he pretends to ride the bronze animal.

And twenty feet to my left, there's a girl surrounded by notebooks, worksheets, and pens of every color of the rainbow. She's sprawled out on the ground, taking a nap with a ridiculously thick textbook covering her face.

At least I think she's asleep...she's extremely still.

I grab a small pebble and toss it at her, the tiny rock making contact with her lower leg. She reaches down to grab her calf, the motion assuring me she's alive and well.

Thank goodness—death by studying would be an awful way to go.

I yawn and stretch out on the grass, my eyes wandering across the way to a giant willow tree. It's breathtakingly beautiful, the weeping branches blowing gently in the wind. I'm so mesmerized, I let out a yelp when a squirrel suddenly scampers up and breaks my trance.

Realization hits me as I spot the unique white tip of his bushy tail.

"Hey...I know you. You're that crazy little devil I got into a stand-off with earlier this semester!" I perch up on my elbows and lift a brow. "Still harassing innocent students in your spare time?"

He stares at me for a sec, then dips his head into my open backpack. A few moments later, he pops up, my afternoon snack secured between his teeny squirrel fangs.

"I'll take that as a yes," I mumble as I gently free the package from his mouth.

He tries to snatch it back, but I shake my head back and forth.

"No, no, no. This—" I shake the cheese crackers "—is people food. And this..." I reach into the front pocket of my pack, pulling out a bag of mixed nuts and holding them in the air. "This is squirrel food. Get it?"

After I open the baggie, I offer it to him. He hesitates.

"Go on," I insist as I push the assortment closer to him. "Eat up. Nuts are the food of your kind. Ancestral diets are all the rage nowadays. Join the club."

Mr. Nutso finally does what I say, pulling out a peanut and shoving it in his cheek.

We sit there, chomping together in unison.

"So how's your day?" I ask.

He grabs a walnut and chews on it.

"Looks like it's going pretty well." I let out a disgruntled sigh. "Mine sucks, in case you're wondering. Seriously sucks. My team's playing tonight and I'm not even allowed to go watch. It's bad enough not being able to help out on the field, but to not be permitted at the match at all? What kind of bullshit is that? Ridiculous!"

I continue my rant—voice getting more high-pitched and hysterical with every word—when a bark of laughter makes me jump.

"Jesus, Sydney."

I gaze up, shielding my eyes from the sun until I can make out Cameron's amused expression. Even with him looking at me like I'm certifiably insane, my heart still picks up speed.

He cocks his head, puzzled eyes bouncing from me to the squirrel. "How come every time I find you, you're deep in conversation with a piece of food or something that walks on four legs?"

"Umm..." I emit a guilty laugh. "I don't have a good excuse for that. Maybe I just like to hear myself talk? Maybe I want to vent without getting any advice in return? I'm not sure. Chatting with things that can't respond tends to be easier sometimes."

"Oh?" He smirks, a trace of feigned offense in his tone. "You trying to get me to leave? I get it."

"No! You're the exception." I grin and grab a fistful of his shorts, refusing to let him escape. "Stay."

"I dunno." He gazes down at me, rubbing his chin in a teasing manner. "I think your squirrel's got it covered. Looks like I'm not needed here. See ya."

"Cameron!"

I roll my eyes as I tug at the fabric repeatedly, the soccer shorts falling lower on his trim hips.

"Shit, okay. Don't pants me in the middle of campus, crazy girl."

I raise a suggestive brow. "Why not?"

"Because," he says as he adjusts his waistband and nudges his head towards his crotch. "This is for your eyes only."

As Cam joins me on the ground, I turn to Mr. Nutso and wave him aside.

"Scoot over a little bit. We have a guest."

To my surprise, he actually obeys my command.

Maybe he's finally starting to understand who's boss around these parts.

Cameron lowers his large frame onto the grass, leaning back on his forearms in a way that makes his biceps bulge against the sleeves of his Warrior t-shirt. He fiddles with his baseball hat a time or two, the charcoal color of the cap making his gorgeous gray eyes pop even brighter in the sunshine.

As he stretches his legs out in front of him, he releases a relaxed sigh.

"Comfy?" I ask.

"Cozy as fuck." He nods before piercing me with a look of genuine concern. "How are you doing?"

"Uh. Well..." I bite on the inside of my cheek.

"Honest answers only," he adds adamantly.

"Honestly?" I expel a defeated breath. "Not great. Really bad, actually."

His brow furrows as he sits up, motioning me into his outstretched arms. I tuck my head into the crook of his shoulder, one of his hands wrapping around my waist and tugging me close. His familiar masculine scent engulfs me in an instant and I breathe deeply, a wave of serenity following the inhale.

Just being in his embrace makes everything hurt a little less.

"Have you figured anything else out?" he mumbles against the top of my head. "Any other details or explanations for what could've happened?"

"I've tried," I say softly. "I went to the lab where they handle the drug testing and demanded to talk to one of the scientists. I might've gotten a littttle worked up and accused them of running a faulty operation that's destroying my life. They took that allegation to heart and gave me a thorough tour of the facilities. After a full hour of learning their protocols and extremely strict guidelines, I'm basically an expert on medical laboratory science now." I let out a dejected laugh and shake my head. "They didn't fuck up. As much as I wanted it to be, it wasn't a mistake on their part. I definitely had drugs in my system."

"Doesn't make any sense..." Cam mutters as he slowly strokes the back of my hair, fingertips tickling the sensitive skin on the back of my neck. "What about your coach? You talk to her at all?"

"Only about a hundred times since this whole thing began. If I keep annoying her, there's a strong chance I'll be issued a restraining order by the end of the week."

He chuckles. "We don't want that."

"No, we don't." I frown. "This whole situation is freaking awful, Cam. I feel like throwing in the towel."

"Wait, what?" He pulls back, making sure I get a full-fledged view of his flabbergasted expression. "You wanna give up?"

"I don't want to." I offer a helpless shrug. "But I'm starting to feel like there's no other option."

"Nah. No way." Cameron shakes his head back and forth. "You're not that type of person, Sydney. The kind who backs down when the going gets tough. This is nothing but a speed bump. You've dealt with worse shit in the past."

True.

"We're gonna figure this out, baby." He tilts my chin up, staring deep into my eyes with fiery determination. "I promise. Okay?"

I give a firm nod. "Okay."

We sit in silence for a minute or so before I vocalize another thought that's been on my mind since last weekend.

"What about us?"

Cameron slants his head, confused. "What about us?"

"I don't know. Word's gotten around the block about the two of us and everybody, literally everybody, knows now..." I twirl a piece of hair around my finger. "I just wanted to make sure this doesn't change anything. Make sure we're still good?"

"Of course we're good, babe." He gives me a squeeze of reassurance, a beaming smile spreading across my face at the touch. "We're fucking great."

"Good," I say before yet another worry hits. "Have you talked to Vaughn?"

"No. Not yet." He makes a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. "And not for lack of trying, either."

"He's too stubborn for his own good." I shake my head and start to ramble. "He's still pissed at both of us. With me, it's in a disappointed type of way. But for you, it's more of a wants-to-rip-your-face-off kind of anger."

"Syd—"

He tries to cut me off, but I keep going.

"I want things to be okay between you guys. I really, really do. I tried to reason with him a billion times, but he wasn't having it. And then I also—"

Suddenly, Cam's lips crash against mine in a steamy kiss. It's the perfect remedy to my blabbering mouth spouting off worry after worry. I finally shut up, letting myself get good and gone in the pulse-racing moment.

"I don't want you to stress about that, alright?" he instructs when he pulls back. "I'll deal with your brother. You've got more important things to handle."

He's definitely right about that, and after telling him so, he tugs me into his arms once more.

Cameron is the undisputed king of big-bear hugs—his comforting embraces are the cure-all to any ailment, negative feeling, or shitty situation that may arise.

Magic, I tell you!

I'm enjoying the therapeutic hug when I feel his shoulders start to shake with laughter.

"What?" I ask as I look up at him. "What's funny?"

"I think your little rodent friend wants in on the action."

He tips his chin behind me and I follow the gesture. Mr. Nutso is staring at us with wide eyes, paws up at chest level in a begging motion.

"Awhhh," I coo. "Look at him!"

"I am." Cam scrunches his nose in disgust. "He's kinda creepy looking."

"What? Take that back!" I give him a quick slap on the arm. "He's really starting to grow on me. I think he's cute." I glance back at the small animal. "Aren't you, Mr. Nutso?"

A loud snicker fills the air. "Mr. Nutso? You named him?"

"Yep. And I was sort of thinking he could be the new Treehouse mascot." I lift a brow. "Thoughts?"

"There's only one thought that comes to mind at that suggestion."

"What is it?"

"You are sodamn weird, Sydney Steel." Cameron smiles, shaking his head in amusement. "That's it. That's the thought."

"And you are so damn rude, Cameron Collins!" I burst out laughing. "Just admit that you like the weirdness. No...you love it!"

I'm just messing around, but a sudden, serious look flashes across his face.

"Yeah," he murmurs, eyes cloudy and contemplative. "I really do."

I'm about to question his odd demeanor when he blinks hard, clearing his throat and snapping out of the strange trance.

"Alright, I surrender." Cam waves the squirrel closer. "Get in here, Mr. Nutso. You are officially the Treehouse mascot."

"Wooo!" I clap my hands together in rambunctious applause. "Congratulations!"

Cam grins as he gives the newly ordained mascot one final piece of advice.

"Don't fuck it up like Mr. Slinky."