Trying to live #Wattys2024

Chapter 8 (Edited)

I didn't look up to see Cam Avilla, but I knew it was him. I'd always recognize his voice, just as I could recognize the voices of everyone I grew up with, before everything fell apart.

"Thanks," I rasped and tried to free my hand. "You know, you can let go of my hand."

I didn't know why I said that jokingly when I didn't really mean it. I felt numb—not in the usual way, but as if a heavy stone was sitting on my heart, making every breath feel too short. How could one word make you feel so miserable and turn your world upside down?

"Do you really want me to let go of you?" Cam asked suddenly.

I had to look up, and tears I tried to hold back threatened to spill. It wasn't just his soft tone—it was the way his eyes were filled with something I couldn't quite understand. I was used to indifference and coldness, but I never imagined Cam would look at me like that. Maybe it was because I had hurt him like everyone else who was once a part of my life, or maybe it was because he had hurt me too.

"No," I whispered, trying to calm myself by taking a deep breath. I wasn't going to cry in front of him or anyone else. I wouldn't cry in public anymore—well, as long as I could hold my tears back, because once they started, they wouldn't stop.

He guided me downstairs, my hand in his, and I didn't dare to look back. I think I even heard Scott calling my name, but in a daze, we reached the bottom. Cam led us to the counter, and then suddenly turned us so that I was sandwiched between him and the counter. I didn't remember him being this considerate.

Until he spoke. "Now, you owe me a favor."

I stared at him, his dark brown eyes meeting mine. Yes, he had average brown eyes like me. But Cam was just like his cousin—far too good-looking for this world. The only difference was that Cam had dirty blonde hair and a tan that would eventually fade. He had taken out his colored contacts, allowing his dark brown eyes to shine. He used to wear them at school, like today.

Cam said it was a fashion trend from South Korea. Oh, I forgot to mention he was half Korean. His dad was a big star there, and his mom was a renowned model. Both of his parents moved constantly, never staying in one place. So, Henry's mom convinced Cam's mom that it would be best if she raised him, so he wouldn't be alone.

Cam considered Henry his brother and Mrs. Avilla his mother, which was why he sometimes called her "Mom." Mrs. Avilla was incredibly kind and loved Cam as if he were her own son. She raised him as her own. Since Cam was half Korean, he had a Korean first and last name, but he used his second name as his first and his mother's maiden name. Why? Well, I didn't know.

"W-What?" I sputtered.

Cam tapped his jaw thoughtfully. "What what? You owe me a favor," he said, each word slow and deliberate as if I were three years old.

"I understood that the first time. I'm asking what for?" I said, irritated. I was more than irritated; I was on the edge of exploding. Not that I ever killed anyone.

Okay, once. I accidentally killed Stormy the fly—she got her name because she always flew against the wind. I thought she wanted to stay outside and closed the window. Stormy smashed against it and fell into a maze of weeds and sunflowers.

Cam smirked. "I helped you down the stairs and saved you."

"No. You wanted to hold my hand. That means you actually dragged me downstairs."

"No. I asked if I should let go of your hand, and you whispered 'no' like you were about to cry." He squinted at me. "Wait, were you crying? Your eyes looked a little—"