One stupid favour leads to another...
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It might have been a stupid deal, a stupid favour we've asked of each other.
But if this worked, at least they come out alive. And all of us don't suffer anymore.
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After a drug dealer kidn...
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Returning to Medfield after all of it was once more an adjustment. When the news hits the stands of Medfield, it lingers for longer. When drama is hard to come by, you flock to it and stoke its flames.
Gossip flung around me without a care that I was there. Mom and Jerry were even more protective of me. And his group of friends, ever so cautious to avoid the main topic of the week.
So anger, that familiar feeling, brewed in me. When Tristan of all people walked up to me, I forgot why I didn't like him. I automatically assumed he wanted information.
"Cam, I want to talk with you." I noticed his brown hair from the corner of my eye.
I shove the books into a bag quickly, "I'm busy."
I'd avoided everyone with that excuse when they pried for information.
"I just need a few minutes. We need to talk." The sense of urgency almost got me to look up at him.
"I have to go and we don't need to talk. Take a hint and stop," I mutter.
"Camille, wait!" I don't listen, not even sparing him a glance as I walk past him.
"Fuck off Tristan."
"So what?" the anger in his voice is prominent. "We're never going to talk about how you just froze me out? And then left without a word? Are we just going to ignore all that you did?"
I halt and shut my eyes. Taking a calming breath, I realise that he was still the same persistent guy, and there was no way out. Either I keep running, or I face this and get it over with.
I can't believe I still have to deal with this type of drama. After everything last week.
I spin around and face him with hard eyes. "What I did? What about what you did?"
"What did I do? You're the one that stopped talking to me after we-"
"Yes yes, it was me that stopped talking, froze you out and left. Boo hoo, get over it. I'm talking about what you did before that. Or did you already forget about your little bet?"
His posture stiffens and his eyes widen marginally. But I notice it all. I notice him swallow. I notice him clench and unclench his fists.
He felt guilty. He felt regret. Or he felt fear.
Whichever it was, it gave me power over him.
"Yeah, I knew about the bet." I consider lying, I consider telling the truth. I think about the many speeches I had in mind to say to him, if this moment ever came. Then I realise, he should just stew in his own guilt or fear.
"Now you know why. Your stupid clichéd bet, your dumb circle of friends, your pathetic want to be popular. You're still the same person Jones. Haven't changed a bit. But I have. I know better. So, don't bother me again. Don't ever try the same shit with another girl. And don't for a second think you actually deserve even this answer from me. You screwed up, not me."
