Concealed (A Cameron Dallas Fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty Three

A/N: Sorry for doing a/n's at the beginning and not at the end but OMFG ALEX HOLTTI FOLLOWED ME ON TWITTER THE OTHER NIGHT aha he's a Viner if you don't know . I also realized my story said completed and I didn't know. Sorry about that, I fixed it. I might add like songs to the chapters so for this chapter, listen to the song All Those Pretty Light by Andrew Belle (from PLL 😍😏😂)
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I haven't talked to Cameron since the day of the fight. Nash and Annabelle won't tell me if he got suspended or expelled. Taylor's been avoiding me. The only person who actually wants to talk to me is Carter, the last person on my mind. It feels like an eternity being apart from Cameron. I guess I know what it feels like if I was him, and I just up'd and moved without telling.

It doesn't matter even if I did hear from Cameron. My mom hates him, now, and what he did. She thinks I'm giving her a cover up story, because I'm scared he'll beat me again. She doesn't want me seeing him, talking about him, or missing him. Hell, she doesn't even want me thinking about him. But I can't do that. It's hard to just forget about someone who's made such a large impact on your life. My mom thinks I'm like her. A doormat for men to come in, drop their coats on, and wipe mud on after a long day of work. Collin says if he ever sees him again, he'll, and I quote, beat the shit out of him. I wish I had some way to show them what really happened. To show them that Cameron-

"Leighton, come and eat dinner." My mom calls from the dining room. I realize I've been sitting here on the couch, like a zombie, scrolling through channels with my mouth cracked open. Collin's already at the table, with my mother, who's also looking at me, waiting for me to join them. I've been a little out of it for the past few days. Putting on the wrong things, or handing in the wrong homework for the wrong classes. I'm not quite sure why.

I get up and grab a chair away from them, plopping down with my arms crossed. Collin slides me my plate with spaghetti and buttered bread on it. I can't even eat. I haven't been eating. What's wrong with me? It's like I don't function right if I don't hear from Cameron.

We sit in silence while my family's forks stab their plates. Hair falls over my eyes as my mother glances up at me. "What happened to your black eye?"

God, what's wrong with her? She won't stop talking about it. She sure as hell didn't care this much about my face when I got into a fight with Clarity. I roll my eyes and look at the food. "Makeup happened." I murmur.

She scuffs and takes a meatball in her mouth. "Collin make sure to check it out before she goes to sleep."

He's about to answer, but I slam my hand on the table. They both stop and stare at me in shock. "You talk about me like I'm not here!"

"Leighton-"

I cut her off, sick of what she's already said. "Oh, don't bullshit me, mom. For the last time, Cameron didn't hit me or beat me! It's practically my fault, I shouldn't have jumped into the fight, okay? So just let it go! God, Cameron's not dad and I'm sure as hell not you!"

"Leighton!" My brothers deep voice snaps at me. I look at him with angry eyes. "Go upstairs." He demands with a clenched jaw.

"Don't have to tell me twice." I mumble and push myself out of my seat. I stomp dramatically up the stairs and slam my door.

I hear my mother spitting profanities downstairs, saying how she's disappointed in me or whatever. About 15 minutes later, Collin walks into my room. He runs a hand through his hair before leaning against my desk.

"Why the hell would you say that?"

"She keeps bringing it up! And Cameron didn't beat me! He wouldn't do that!" I explain to my last breath. I'm tired of defending his honor. I just want this whole thing to be over with.

"Who cares about Cameron, Leighton. We're not talking about him! We're talking about you! And how you just threw mom under the bus. Garrett's a bad guy, and I get it, you wish he wasn't your dad, but I swear to God, don't ever say that to her again." He threatens, lowering his voice. I roll my eyes and lean back on my bed.

"Whatever, are you done?" He stares at me for almost 20 seconds, before leaving and closing the door behind him.

After listening to The 1975 for a half an hour, I get the courage to call Cameron. That courage vanishes after the 3rd time of calling him. I dial the number the last time. My heart nearly jumps from my chest when it stops ringing and I don't get a voicemail. It's not the voice I want to hear though, because his mom answers.

"Uh, Mrs. Dallas? Hey, it's Leighton."

"Oh, hi, Leighton. Sorry Cameron couldn't answer the phone." She sounds bitter. Like she doesn't want to talk to me. Or she pities talking to me.

I sigh as tears sting the back of my eyes from embarrassment. "Um, is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's been doing better. The doctor said he should be getting into physical therapy-"

"Wait, the doctor...? Physical therapy? I-I'm confused." I don't understand.

"Oh ... Leighton, I thought you knew. Cameron ... Cam's in the hospital, hun."

This time, my heart does drop. And I do feel that pain so unbearable I don't know how to handle it. "W-why?"

It takes her a while to answer me, but when she does, it's the last thing I want to hear ...

"He ... he overdosed..."