Everything But Goodbye (Janoskian Fanfic)

Chapter 7

~Beau's POV~

I can't believe it. I just can't. I look at Jai and see he is really upset. "Jai.." I say and I move my arms apologetically.

"See Beau, don't assume shit," he says and pushes past me to join the others. I lean against the trash can and notice my keys and Camille's promise ring on the ground. I feel tears fill my eyes and bend down to pick up my keys and the ring. I shove the keys in my pocket and examine the ring. I gave this to her a year ago. When she used to love me.

I hear Luke's voice and manage to recognize a few words, "he's a jerk....... I know it's not all good on Camille's part either........ he probably hates himself right now." Luke is right; I am a jerk, and I do hate myself right now. Camille didn't do anything wrong, I don't blame her for this.

This is all my fault. I accused her and Jai of doing stuff, and I did slap her before. I can't believe she brought that up. It was a time when me and her were fighting. It was when she had found out she was pregnant. I wasn't mad at her, but she was mad at me. She started slapping me and I reacted. I slapped her. I felt terrible. She never told her mum and dad about it; well I hope she didn't. She didn't tell her mum about the pregnancy though, she miscarried before she had the guts to tell her.

I kiss the ring and leave it at my lips for a few seconds. I suddenly feel tears stream down my face. All kinds of questions fill my mind: why me? Why now? Why? I collapse on the ground and begin to cry viciously.

"I kind of feel bad for him," I hear Daniel say, "just look at him." Someone says something else but I'm not paying attention to what they are saying.

I take out my phone and try to call her. *ring ring ring* "Sorry the number you are trying to rea-" I hang up before the voicemail finishes. Of course she wouldn't answer, she hates me. Even though I know the outcome I try and call a few more times. Each time it's the same thing: "Sorry the number you are trying to rea-", and hang up.

I throw my head back against the trash can and look at the ceiling. What have I done? I look at the background on my phone: a picture of me and Camille on Christmas. The tears come on again, and I cry silently. Fuck my life.