Marcel Is Not His Name

Chapter Five: Family Troubles

My attire for the game was simple... A ponytail, short sleeve tee-shirt, and leggings. Cameron usually gave me his letterman jacket to wear, even though it was a billion degrees outside, so I had to dress lightly. He would probably give it to me before the game since later at night it gets cooler. California nights are as cold as the arctic sometimes, especially when we're so close to the cost, it's awful.

Before Cameron picked me up, I sat in the living room with my mom as we watched an episode of the new TV show, Shadowhunters, at ate some leftover Italian from last night's supper.

"How was your first day, Sage?" She suddenly asked.

"It was pretty good. Other than the insanely embarrassing moment when I was late to class because I got lost... on the wrong floor." I answered her.

"Now, how did you manage that?"

"It's a long story." It was quiet for a while after that, neither of us knowing what to say. It stayed that way until the door opened, signaling Cameron's appearance.

"Hi, Mrs. Powell." Cameron greeted.

"Hello Cameron." She greeted him back with a smile. "You two should get going. We wouldn't want Cameron here to be late."

She was right. Me and Cam really should get going. "Okay, okay, we're leaving." I said giving her a peck on the cheek. "By mom, love you."

"Bye Sage, love you too."

And with that, Cameron and I walked out my front door to his car. He opened the passenger side door for me, then jogged quickly to the driver's side and started the car up.

"Ready?" He asked me with a sideways glance.

"Let's go." After some comfortable silence on the ride I decided to bring up some game conversation. "So Cam, how you feeling about the big game? Ready to start off the school season?"

"Good question, Jimmy Fallon. I am very excited for this season, not as excited than having this interview, though."

"I am always so grateful when you grace us with your presence. It's a true treasure to have you here tonight, but don't you have to get prepared for that big game you have tonight. It is after all the first one of the school year."

"To answer your question, Ms. Powell. I am really excited. It's great to get on a muddy, grass field where I can tackle down huge guys and throw a ball into a net. Love it!" Cam answered, his voice full of sarcasm.

"Have you ever had a serious conversation in your life?"

"Yeah, actually. I have." Cameron glued his eyes harder on the road if that's possible. All humor left the car.

"Is everything okay, Cameron?"

"Yeah. Of course." Though he claimed everything was okay, there was a crack in his voice. It was like the words were choking him until he couldn't speak anymore. In that moment I knew for certain that everything was certainly not okay.

"Cameron. Pull over." I took a stern tone as I commanded him. He was in no state to drive.

"No." He snapped back. "Why?"

"Cameron Daniel Joseph Walters!" I scolded. "Pull over right now!"

"Okay, okay. Calm it, Sage. I'm pulling over." His voice was now filled with an uneasy calmness as he pulled the car over to the side of the beat up road. "Are you happy now?" He asked, avoiding direct eye contact with me.

"Yes." I said also in a calm tone, and when Cameron finally did make eye contact, he reached across the counsel and I devoured him in a bear hug.

"My parents are getting divorced." He whispered into my hair. He talked slowly, his voice cracking in multiple spots. It brought tears to my eyes.

A couple months earlier, Cameron told me that he was getting woken up almost every night from his parents yelling at each other. He would often walk downstairs in the mornings to find broken glass bottles scattering the floor. His father would either be gone, or sleeping on the couch.

It completely crushed him, his family used to be so close. They would travel down to their house in San Diego for weeks and just be a family together, playing games and hanging out at the beach. But then Cameron grew up, they drifted apart and his parents started working more. Then they started fighting more.

"I'm so sorry, Cameron. What can I do?"

"Nothing, right now. Let's just go to the game. But, I might need to stay at your place tonight. I don't think I can handle seeing them again."

"Of course. My home is your home."

"Thanks Sage. Really, you don't know how much it means to me."

"Anytime. I mean, that's what I'm here for." With that Cameron set his head in on my shoulder, and I embraced him in a- what could be awkward if we weren't us- side hug.

After the only spare we had left us I switched spots with Cameron. At first he was uneasy about me driving the hellcat because it was shift, but I assured him that I had plenty of practice when I spent time with my uncle in Italy. Besides there was no way I was going to let him drive when he was this upset.

Once we finally arrived at the school, Cameron gave me his jacket before he raced over to the field to join the team. As they chatted amongst themselves, I looked to the stands to try and find Cassie, I knew she was there. It only took seconds for me to find her on the top of the bleachers. She was wearing a bright pink crop top along with ripped, black denim jeans. That was her usual style: bright colors. It makes her stick out among the crowd, and luckily for me, made her easy to find in the crowd filled bleachers.

She must have spotted me while I was still looking for her because she was now waving me over as she called my name. Glad to find the company of a familiar face I weaved my way through the crowd to get to her. When I finally did reach Cassie, she was not alone. She was with a group of three boys the two that were facing me in my arrival looked like they were juniors, but could be seniors. Both were stunningly attractive which explains why Cassie lured them into sitting by her. The third however was turned around talking to some people that sat behind them. I couldn't say much about his face, but he sure did have a nice back. His torso being twisted made all of his muscles flex unintentionally. He began to turn around, and when he did I was struck with the reality of his identity.