The Super Jerk Trilogy (Now 3-in-1)

16. Fallingforyou

{Cameron}

Over the next few days I don't see Sarah at all. In fact, I don't even think she comes to school. Sometimes I find myself checking my voice mail, just in case she called and I didn't hear my phone. But there's nothing. It makes me feel terrible that I was the cause. Or I guess a combination of me and Blue Bolt. But I'm increasingly having a hard time separating them.

   Trevor, however, makes it a point to find me. When he does, he grabs the front of my sweatshirt and slams me into the lockers, his eyes burning dangerously.

   "What did you do to Campbell?" he demands, shoving me when I don't answer. "Don't play dumb with me, Bower. I know it was you."

   "I don't...I didn't..." I see the pain in her expression again, and my stomach twists.

   "Didn't what? Tell her the truth?" I can see Trevor's been building up his muscle. He's pressing me into the lockers so tight it hurts. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

   "I was, I just..." I start, but he cuts me off.

   "Save your excuses, Cameron. That message on my phone is enough to make me see that you of all people don't deserve someone like her."

   "Look, Trevor, I was going to tell her, but..."

   "I said, save it," He releases me, making a fake back towards me when I move. "If I get another voice mail like that from her, I will whip your sorry little blue a-double-s."

   People stare at me as I straighten myself out. I guess none of them would have thought a kid like Trevor would ever do something like that to a guy like me. They don't even know the half of it.

   So after school I slide into my super suit and fly over to Sarah's house. At first I don't know which window is hers, but like I said before, I feel this magnetic pull whenever I'm near her. Her room is a corner one, with two windows facing the backyard. I land lightly on the narrow sill and tap the glass a couple times.

   Nothing happens at first. But then I see a shape moving around inside the room, coming closer to the window. When a face finally peeks out, I see it's Sarah's.

   She slides it open, her reddened eyes widening with surprise. She looks like she's been crying again, and that's what hurts me the most. I climb in and land on the floor without making a noise. The second I do a bad smell hits me, and I can see it's from the plates of uneaten food in front of the door. So she's been taking this really hard.

   "So," she says, shutting the window behind me and wandering around me to sit on the bed. "You again."

   "Me again." I look around for a place to sit, but it seems she hasn't been using her closet either. Her clothes are all over the room, the dress from the other night in one corner.

   "I'm sorry I'm not very talkative today." She flops back on the bed. "I've had a rough week so far."

   "Did you want to talk about it?" I lean against the desk, scattered with papers. "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't, though."

   "Not really," she says through an exhale. "Why? Did you?"

   "I've found that sometimes talking about my problems instead of keeping them all cooped up inside is better. Airing them out solves the worst of them."

   She sighs again. "I guess you're right."

   "So what's the problem?" I already know what it is. My true identity. But at least she's talking to me now.