Not So Broken (West Coast College Book 3)

Chapter 32

Ava

"Cameron? What can I do?" I plea, ignoring the way my stomach churns at how pale he is, his hands shaking, "Maybe we could go outside? Get some fresh air?"

It's clear he's having a panic attack, something I know too much about with the way his head shakes back and forth in denial and when he drops the paintbrush he's holding onto the table.

I reach out to place a gentle hand on his shoulder but he flinches away, pushing his chair back and stumbling out the door. The employee behind the counter gives me a look and I tell her we'll be back in a minute before following Cameron outside.

God. Why can't any of our dates work out? And it's always my fault. I mention his family and then needles and now he's having a full blown panic attack on the sidewalk. Guilt stirs heavy in my chest but I push it aside.

I'm thankful it's not a busy time of day as Cameron paces back and forth, his breathing ragged. I swallow, approaching him slowly. "Cameron...? Listen to my voice. Only me."

He glances at me but he just sees through, eyes glassy. My heart shatters for him, for the young kid who's never had the opportunity to heal from whatever he's gone through, for whatever he's seen.

I stand in front of him and hold his biceps tightly. His hands are locked behind his neck, chin trembling as he stares down at our feet. "Hey, babe," I whisper. "Can you take a deep breath for me?"

I inhale dramatically, and smile when he follows along, exhaling on a shaky breath, a tear slipping down his cheek before I wipe it with my thumb. We do that breathing exercise a few more times and by the end of it, he seems more relaxed but is still hyperventilating slightly.

I've found out Cameron loves to hum-or more like sing under his breath. Almost everywhere we go, anytime of the day he's singing the same song but so faintly I've never been able to pick up on it until I went back and re-watched some early 2000 rom-coms.

Unfurling his fingers from the back of his neck, I gently guide his head down to my shoulder as I start to sing "Who Knows?" by Natasha Bedingfield faintly from the movie "27 dresses", pausing to remind him to focus on his breathing.

"Good. I am so proud of you. Just like that, keep breathing." I coax, brushing some of his honey hair out of his face, swiping at the tears he's trying so hard to keep in.

"You can cry, Cameron. You're allowed to cry with me. No one will get mad or tell you otherwise when I'm here." I'm holding in my own tears at this point, feeling his body tremble as I wrap my arms around him, just holding onto him.

He clears his throat, lifting his head slightly to meet my eyes. "Ava?" He croaks.

"Yeah, it's me." I smile, running my hand down his back as I guide him to one of the benches sitting outside out the buildings, never letting him go. "Are you okay now? Do you want to go home? I know how exhausting panic attacks like those are."

He shakes his head, eyes puffy. A weak smile forms on his face. "Aw, you care about me, Sunshine? Well-"

"Of course I care about you, Cameron." I swallow down the frog stuck in my throat, "I-I love you."

He stays silent like he didn't hear me and that hurts more than it should've but I'm hoping it's just because of his panic attack a few moments ago and not because he's suddenly stopped loving me since he told me.

"I'm sorry I brought the need-uh, it up. I-I had no idea."

Cameron sighs, crossing his right ankle over his left knee, running his fingers through the strands of hair that flop over his head. "You don't need to apologise. I just feel like such an ass for ruining our date. Again.

I blink, glancing up at the sky when it starts drizzling. Neither of us move. "You didn't ruin it. We can still go back in there and continue painting and later we could watch "27 Dresses". I figured out what you always sing-"

"Yeah, one of my foster sisters was obsessed with that movie." He says curtly. I slump against the wall, my excitement of figuring it out vanishing.

"Oh." I pick at my fingers, "Do you think you could tell me what happened? When I mentioned the thing back in the paint shop?"

I'm trying to handle the topic with the utmost delicacy since the word is most likely a trigger for him but he's spaced out, staring at one spot across the street.

I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless, watching him. His lips are turned downed, eyes half lidded, jaw clenched. Taking his much larger hand in mine, I give it a squeeze, hoping he knows I'm here.

Whatever he's remembering, I wish I could relive it for him so he doesn't have to go through it again.

"Cameron? Let's go inside before you get soaked. It's really pouring, yeah?"

No response. But he stands and maybe dips his head as if telling me to lead the way. I nod, giving him my best smile as we head back to our table, all our paints and pottery still waiting for us.

We don't talk the rest of the time-well, I do but he remains silent, tortured eyes staring down at his project. "Allie and I are coming to watch your game this weekend. We got those family tickets right by your bench so I think it'll be a lot of fun, especially with someone else with me.

Nothing.

"Delilah and Cooper would love to have you over for dinner sometime. Oh! And Cooper's letting me change out some of the decor for more plants and I think I'm gonna add hot chocolate to the coffee cart for the kids. What do you think?"

Silence.

I bite my lip to keep my sob from spilling out but it's really hard since the Cameron I know isn't here.

It feels like I'm talking to my parents. Or Connor, people I thought I would never, ever compare Cam to.

"I love you," I say weakly and only then does he offer me a small smile, working his way past the pain slowly and he even grabs my shaking hand, bringing it up and kissing my knuckles.

"What do you think, Sunshine? I really went all out with the yellow." He says, showing me his pottery like everything that just happened in the last twenty minutes didn't happen.

"Please talk to me," I beg, refusing to let him push his pain to the side, "What happened? What can I do to help you if it happens again?"

Cameron rubs his eyes. "Can we talk about it later? Please?"

Oh. My shoulders deflate and the urge to cry hits even harder. "Sure. Whatever you want."