Camden by Shey Stahl
Time moves slowly, but faster than I anticipate. Days go by, two, three, four, and before I know it, I’m four weeks from my due date. Can you freaking believe it? It’s like I blinked and this baby lets me know whether we’re ready for it or not, the time is coming faster and faster.
I’m scared. Absolutely terrified to think I’m eighteen and going to be a mom in less than a month. My mom, Scarlet and me decorate the baby’s room at Camden’s house. Oh, and he officially asked me to move in with him, after I already brought my shit over.
Speaking of Camden, he’s still not released to compete. And that, my friends, makes for an extremely cranky boyfriend. Never mind the fact I just called him my boyfriend. You knew that was coming, or did you? Regardless, he’s so moody lately. He wants to race and compete, but he hasn’t been released by the FIM (International Motorcycling Federation) that governs the freestyle world; they refuse because of the concussion. That leaves him searching for events outside of their governing ability and on edge constantly. Our relationship since that night with Tiller, it’s different. It’s like the realization of everything has set in and taken its toll.
Also, we haven’t had sex since that day. Something’s up. We’ve tried, but he makes excuses as to why we can’t, or, he’s not in town much.
Today though, today he’s in town and I’m going to get myself some answers, damn it. I find him in the garage that afternoon, working on his bike. He’s basically replaced everything on it to keep himself busy, and to avoid me.
Do you see me there? Waddling toward the shop doors in my lilac sundress that compliments the purple in my hair nicely? Do you sense my nerves? You should. They’re practically vibrating through me.
With a deep breath, I take the last step into his shop beside the house and clear my throat. “Can we talk?”
He raises an eyebrow, sighing as he continues to work on his bike. “Why?” His voice cracks and he clears his throat, but his expression, it’s devastating. He looks up at me like he needs me to breathe, but I know he doesn’t.
“Because you’re avoiding me.”
His eyes find mine, and it feels like my soul is splitting in two. His lips purse immediately. The way his eyes are stone-cold and bleeding with an invisible pain when we make eye contact give him away. I want to know his pain because finally, I’m not the only one experiencing this.
“You know, Camden, I’m going to have this baby any day now and I can’t do this alone and you’re acting like a douche.”
He stares at me intently for a few seconds. I can’t tell if he’s angry or defeated. Maybe both. Yesterday he was told that he might not be able to compete in the Erzberg Rodeo because the FIM governs the race and hasn’t released him. Needless to say, he’s in a horrible mood.
His hand slips off a wrench and he grunts with pain as he slams his fist into the concrete. “Looks like you’re better off without me then.”
That pisses me off. My cheeks heat and I stand my ground. “What the fuck, asshole?”
He doesn’t look up. “You said it yourself, you’re doing this without me, so why am I here?”
“Camden.” I sigh. His name on my lips is something he wants to hear because his face twists when I say it, the words washing over him. “Don’t act like this.”
“Act like what?” He stands from his place on the stool, his expression suddenly livid, as if that one remark set him off.
“Be this way.” My eyes dip to his chest, so tense his muscles seem tight and rigid underneath his oil-smudged shirt.
“What way? This is me.” He backs away about a step, dropping his hands to his side. “You’re the one fooling yourself.”
I blink at his harshness. “Yeah, and you’re being an asshole. This isn’t you. You’re acting like this because you’re upset.”
“Maybe I’ve been an asshole this entire time and it just took you too long to realize it because assholes raised you.” My mouth clamps shut at his words. When I take another step back, he knows I’m angry with the statement, but he doesn’t stop. “And I’m clearly not the guy you were hoping I’d be.”
I swallow over my irritation. “You mean you’re not the guy he was hoping for,” I say.
“Well, that too, I suppose,” he laughs, but it’s condescending. “Face it, River. Nobody is good enough for you.”
“Grow up and stop acting like a bitch about this. I’m sorry you might not be able to race Erzberg,” I snap back, anger rushing through me. I don’t have to look down to know my chest is flushed and my cheeks are probably bright red.
Annoyance flashes in his eyes, and then he walks away. I watch his back and then my eyes drift lower. “You’re sorry?” he snorts. “You don’t even fucking get it, do you? I trained for the last two years for this. Two goddamn years and right when it’s in sight, it’s ripped away from me.”
“Yeah, I know. Because of me.” I’m so damn angry at myself, because as mad and hurt as Camden makes me, I love him and I understand what he’s saying. We stand here and argue to the point where he turns his back and walks away from me and all I can think about is it’d be really great if he fucked me against his bike.
When Camden returns with a shock in his hand, he notices I’m still there, leaning against the toolbox in his garage. He sets the shock on the ground and stares at me when I don’t move. He can’t get to his bike with me in the way. “What do you want from me?”
“You.” You can’t miss the sadness in my tone, but it also doesn’t stop him.
He doesn’t let his emotions show on his face. “Haven’t we already discovered that’s not what anyone wants?”
He’s trying to hurt me. He wants me to leave him alone, but it doesn’t hurt me. Well, maybe a little. When I don’t answer, he cocks an eyebrow at me.
With a low chuckle, he leans down to pick up the shock. Holding it, he waits for a second, giving me another chance to convince him otherwise. I don’t. I’m not sure what to say right then. “Are you just hanging around here to torture me?”
Looking at him now, I see right through his bloodshot eyes. He wants me to believe that my dad’s rejection isn’t effecting him. The truth is, he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and it’s pretty obvious by his behavior right now he’s over it.
I realize I’m being an idiot and say, “I’m sorry. Camden. I just don’t know what to do anymore. I love you, but ever since that day, you’re slowly fading away from me and I’m scared I’m doing this on my own. I can, and I will, but I want you to be a part of it.”
He says nothing. Absolutely nothing. My stomach tightens, which is nothing new lately, until I feel like I’m peeing my pants.
I look down, surprised.
“Camden?”
His entire body clenches and he turns around to face me. “What?”
“How does it feel when your water breaks?”
He lifts an eyebrow and stares at me, his anger fading. He blinks a few times. “What?”
I glance down at the floor of the shop and the water dripping down my legs. “I think… my water broke.”
Camden’s eyes widen, his hands raised up in his hair. “Oh shit.”
Oh shit is right, because whether we’re ready or not, this baby is making his way into the world.
He stares at me, still, then the water on the floor. “What do we do?”
“I don’t know.” I too, look down at the water and then hold my stomach that feels as hard as a rock. “I’ve never had one of these things before. Maybe I peed myself?”
“Probably not.” He reaches inside his shorts for his cell phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“Scarlet.”
Right. She’d know what to do. She’s had three of these things.
I can tell you all kinds of things about the rest of that day. Like me going into full-blown labor and puking all over Camden’s truck because I’m so scared.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell him, staring at the floorboard covered in my vomit.
He rolls down the window and sticks his head out. “It’s fine.”
“I hate it when you say that because it’s not,” I snap back, a contraction hitting me. “You’re just saying that to avoid an argument.”
His eyes shift toward mine. “Do you really want to argue about this right now?” He swerves to miss a car that slams on their brakes on the freeway.
“No.” I notice lights in the mirror and shake my head. “You should probably slow down.”
“Fuck that,” he mumbles. “I’m not about to deliver my son alongside the freeway.”
I certainly don’t want that either. Part of me is so fucking ecstatic he said my son, and the other is scared because he’s doing 90 miles an hour and there are now a trail of cops behind us.
Scarlet, who’s in the backseat wearing Camden’s helmet—because believe it or not, she’s terrified of his driving—pipes up with, “At least I’m not the one getting a ticket this time.”
Shade, who’s beside her, peeks his head through the seats and into the front behind Camden and me. “Take this exit.” He points to the right. “I know a shortcut.”
Shade’s shortcut? Jumping a median and through a field that is not, nor has it ever been a shortcut to the hospital. It only pisses the cops off more and maybe even gives the baby brain damage.
You’d be surprised to know that throughout all of this, Scarlet is the only tame one of any of us, which says a lot, and Shade is the one to wheel me into labor and delivery because Camden has to talk to the police after leading them on a chase for the last twenty minutes.
In the midst of a very painful contraction, I grip the front of Shade’s shirt as he helps me out of the wheelchair and onto the bed. “Are they going to arrest him? Because if they do, this is your fault!”
He scowls and releases my grip on him so I will lay back on the bed. “How is that my fault?”
“You told him to take that damn shortcut. It wasn’t even a shortcut. He had to barrel over an embankment.”
“It was a shortcut. I took it when Tiller broke his collarbone jumping off the roof.”
“That says a lot.”
Regardless, in all the commotion and craziness, there’s one defining moment about the way our baby is brought into the world.
Holding him for the first time.
I’m in complete shock when he’s placed in my arms, quiet, content, staring up at me.
Camden crawls in the bed with me, without words, but I cherish every minute, every touch, every moment of the way his body feels against mine and the closeness he provides me.
What’s this?
You and me.
I think of marshmallow lips and sunsets in the dirt once more. A promise fulfilled that led to this baby in my arms. Camden cradles my head to his chest, as if he’s giving me what he can in those seconds as we bring life into the world. A life we created together. There’s something unbelievably special about that.
I cling to him with everything I have. I never want this to end.
And then I look at my son, the one who knows what my heart sounds like from the inside.
I rest my head against Camden’s heart and soak in the moment with my son. I don’t know what to think. He’s so much more than I could have ever wanted. He’s beautiful. Pure. He makes me feel more beautiful.
I want to be more. For him.
