Once Upon A Slap

(35) Hell Is Going To Be Raised Tonight

I'm supposed to be out tonight. I'm supposed to be having the time of my life with the one boy I think I might actually like. But instead, I'm cooped up in my room doing absolutely nothing. Nada. Zilch. Get the point? I know I made my decision but that doesn't mean I'm not going to allow myself a while to wallow in my own self-pity.

The doorbell chimed and I jumped out of my seat, startled. I know it isn't Cameron but god, do I ever wish it was. Flowers and all. I hopped down the stairs, lunging towards the door. Unlocking it, I swung it open, only to be met by a startling shade of blue eyes. Oh my god. He's here. He's actually here.

"Cameron?" My voice came out just above a squeak. Obviously, I'm surprised.

"We need to talk." Cameron's voice was completely monotone and leaked no emotions. I gulped and bobbed my head, allowing him entrance without hesitation.

Don't be fooled. Just because I'm opening the doors to my house doesn't mean I'm also opening the doors to my heart at the same time.

Cameron made his way into my living room. He was about to sit down on Orean's seat but thought better and changed places. I smiled softly, sitting down across from Cameron.

He remembers.

No, no, no. I already decided to let go. This isn't right.

"I thought we already talked." I broke the silence, looking down at the ground. I know that if I even gathered enough courage to look up, I might just end up crying or kissing Cameron. Neither one sounded too good right now.

Actually..

"No, we didn't. I yelled at you because you started crying and that was the end of it." Cameron deadpanned and winced. I met his strong gaze, hesitant.

"Fair enough."

"So, why'd you do it?" Cameron leaned forward, his eyes piercing into me yet again.

At that very moment, I couldn't deny how good Cameron looked. His jawline was as always, chiseled to perfection and his muscles were visible through his black shirt. To top it off, his hair was a messy array, making it seem as if he just rolled out of bed.

He could be mine.

But he won't be. I won't let that happen.

"Do what?" I decided to try playing dumb, wanting to stall for as long as I could. This is the last thing I want to talk about but at the same time, if it grants me a few more moments with Cameron, I don't mind it as much. Cameron's eyes narrowed, annoyed and a little bit angered too.

"Fine. If you're not going to tell me, I'll just find the answer on my own." He glared at me and got out of his seat, making his way to up the stairs.

I stared at his retreated form for a moment. Then, I shot out of my seat faster than I thought humanly possible. I leaped up the stairs and got to the top just as Cameron twisted the knob to my door. Before he could open it, I put a hand on his shoulder and twisted him around. I pushed him into the door and put my arms on either side of Cameron's body. As if that would actually stop him. The glare I got was so vile that I almost backed away right then and there. Almost.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" I narrowed my eyes accusingly.

If Cameron finds those letters, I'm a goner. They're on the bottom level of my bookshelf and they're not even hidden. They're just lying there, out in the open. I will raise hell before I let Cameron lay a hand on either letter. I'm not sure which letter would be worse. Scenarios of the aftermath of what might happen if Cameron gets a hold on either of those letters flashes through my mind, faltering my grip for a moment.

"Every girl writes her feelings down. I just have to find out where." With a chilling smirk, Cameron was out of my hold and had slipped into the room. Before I could even try to get into the room myself, Cameron locked it.

"Open the door, jackass!" I screamed and shouted, banging as hard as I could on the door.

I quickly assessed my situation. My knob is differently designed and the only thing that can open it from the outside is a key. A key that I don't have. So, I proceeded to throw my body against the door, over and over again, hoping to bust it open. But this isn't some sort of action move where any of that crap actually works. Thus, I leaned my back against the door and waited.
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I was sat there for at least thirty minutes before the door opened and again and let me tell you, I really wish it hadn't opened.

In Cameron's hands were both the letters.

Can somebody call in a priest? Because I get the feeling that hell is going to be raised tonight. Again.