Ambivalence

Dr. Asshole and the Con Artist

Camila

A month had passed since the worst day of my life, and since then I had been able to confirm a universal truth: music was God's gift to the brokenhearted. The first week, I cried to Adele and Mariah Carey. The second week, I was on to taylor swift and Beyonce . In the third week, Eminem was speaking my language, and the fourth was dedicated to the '90s.

"Kaki? Hello? You still there?"

"Yeah, Dad, I'm here." I adjusted the phone on my shoulder, packing my shoes into the box.

"Are you sure you don't need me to come down there-"

"Daddy, I promise you I'm okay." That was a lie. Yes, it had been a month and I still felt like shit, but I knew I would feel like that for a while.

"When things like this happen, you need family, Camila. It's the only way to get over this. Besides, New York has nothing on Cypress."

Exhaling deeply, I grabbed another empty box as I headed into the bathroom. "How about I promise to come to visit in a few weeks, okay? I still have a lot of work to do in the city. Plus, you know I can't come back home now. People will be staring and judging..."

"Since when has my Kaki ever cared about what others thought of her?" He chuckled into the phone.

Since I was publicly humiliated. "You're right. Screw them all, and tell Mom I want the biggest welcome home party in the state."

"Thatta girl. Chin up."

"Head high. Bye Daddy, love you."

"Love you, too," he replied, hanging up.

Sighing, I threw the box on the ground and Thunder, forgetting he wasn't a puppy any more, tried to use it as a bed but broke through it. Dismayed, he walked away from it and curled up into a ball of black fur in the corner. I was about to curl up into a ball next to him when I heard the doorbell ring.

Thunder's head shot up, but he stayed in his corner.

"Don't get up, I'll get it," I said to him when the bell rang again.

"Coming!" I groaned, moving through the maze I had created. I checked to see who it was before opening the door. "Chris?"

Chris Jauregui, one of Shawn's closest friends, stood at the door with two cups of coffee on a tray in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other. Since the incident, he had taken it upon himself to check up on me every few days.

"You've gotten skinnier." He frowned.

I looked down at my yoga pants and oversized shirt. "Yay?"

"Not yay," he snapped, entering the apartment. "You need to eat, Mila."

"Chris, I told you, you don't need to do all of this for me." I followed him into the kitchen, where he unpacked some of my pots and pans. "Hey!"

"I'll put them back when I'm done." He flashed me a smile before looking for more utensils.

"Seriously, Chris-"

"Mila, please let me do this," he muttered over the stove. "You have no idea how guilty I feel. My best friend ran away with my Sister's girl while leaving his fiancée alone to pick up the pieces. I introduced them to each other, Mila. I feel guilty toward you, too. So please, let me do this much... I know we aren't that close, but still."

I stared at him for a moment. It was true, I really didn't know Chris. He and Shawn were fraternity brothers. He came over for game nights and dinners we threw, but other than that, Chris and I had never been close.