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We settled more comfortably against each other, Cameron moving around behind me, spooning me. He wrapped his arms around me, one hand cupping my breast. Dizzy from the alcohol, euphoric from having my virginity taken, and comforted by Cameron's warm embrace, I drifted off to sleep.
I was awoken some time later by someone shaking me. I opened my eyes, my vision blurry, and looked around the dim room. A figure was standing above me, calling out to me.
I tried to push the figure away, but they persisted. I whimpered, trying to hug the pillow against me and go back to sleep.
“Ami, wake up.”
I finally opened my eyes all the way and saw my brother standing above me.
He held my rumpled dress out to me.
“Come on. Get dressed. We need to go home.”
I grabbed the dress and held it against my chest to cover myself. Mark turned his back to give me some privacy.
As I was pulling my dress on, I realized something was wrong. I looked around the strange room.
“Where's Cameron?”
Mark tensed. He crossed his arm. Without looking at me, he said, “He's gone.”
“What?” I got up, tugging my dress into place. I pulled on my panties, then grabbed my bra and just bundled it up to carry home with me. “What do you mean, gone?”
“He left.” Mark headed for the door, opening it and heading down the hall. “Let's go.”
I followed my brother along, my head spinning. I was hurt and confused. Nothing made any sense. Cameron had been there when we'd fallen asleep. Surely, he couldn't have just abandoned me?
Mark refused to offer any other explanation as we headed to the car and drove home. I kept asking him more questions, trying to find out what had happened with Cameron, but Mark refused to talk. He glowered the entire drive, his hands gripping the steering wheel like he wanted to strangle someone.
Something must have happened, I was sure of it. I'd never seen my brother looking so angry before. But I couldn't focus on whatever his problem was. All I could think about was Cameron.
How could he just leave, after what we'd shared together?
Chapter 1
Ami
“We'll be in touch,” the interviewer said, rising from behind his desk.
I stood up, smoothing my skirt. The interviewer extended his hand. I shook it.
“Sure thing,” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I really needed this job. “Umm, should I call back on Monday, or...?”
“We'll call you if we make a decision,” he said, forcing a smile. I could see it in his eyes, though. He had surely already made his decision. He was just being polite.
“All right,” I said, doing my best to mask my disappointment. “Thank you.”
He led me to the door. I stepped out into the hall, avoiding eye contact with the next applicant as they walked past me to begin their own interview. It was just an entry-level position at a small museum in Eastern Pennsylvania, but it would have been a first step. A way to get my foot in the door, build up my resume. Maybe one day work my way up to a job at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, my dream job.
I headed outside, pulling on my jacket and hugging it against the cold wind. It was a bit chillier than I was used to from back home. It wasn't that much further north, but it was enough of a difference that I'd already started wearing my heavier jacket, and it was only October.
I walked down the streets, keeping my head down against the wind. I thought about calling for an Uber, but I couldn't afford to spend the money on it. I'd been living off the last of my leftover student loan money since I'd graduated from college, though I'd used most of it to make the security payment and first few months' rent on the tiny studio apartment I was renting. I wasn't sure how I was going to pay November's rent. I'd been thinking about asking my parents for help, but that was a last resort. I couldn't deal with the inevitable lectures, or with the idea of being in debt to my own parents. My mother would probably charge me interest.
It was a long walk home, and the temperature was dropping, with a thick cloud cover overhead blocking out any possibility that the sun might come out. I kept telling myself to just push on, but the wind was biting through the thin fabric of my skirt. I'd dressed for the interview, not for the weather, and while the dress looked attractive and professional, it did nothing to protect my legs from the cold.
There was a small coffee shop along the way. I decided to stop in to warm up. I really wanted a nice tall latte, but I didn't think I could rationalize spending $4 for a drink when I was worried about paying the rent. Of course, I shouldn't have been spending any money at all, but I figured I could make a compromise.
