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Chapter Four
Exception Handling
I'm not lazy, I'm just in energy-saving mode.
Xander
“Nayla said you had to go to the dean’s office today. Was it because of me?” Cameron is sitting on his bed, legs folded under him. Since he just showered, there is this sweet scent of his grapefruit shampoo wafting from across the room.
“It’s hard to look over at your side, the sheer amount of contrasting colors over there make me dizzy.”
“Don’t change the subject,” he scolds.
“Your shampoo stink is filling the room.”
“Was it about Zack? Because I can go down and explain to him...”
“No,” I interrupt. “It was not about Zack. And I don’t want you using yourconnectionsto get me out of anything. Trust me, it won’t help.”
Cam’s face falls. “My... my connections?”
I’m trying not to get worked up, but that’s hard to do when you are trapped like a rat inside the belly of a unicorn. “Is it supposed to be a secret?”
His throat bobs as he swallows. “No. Not a secret exactly.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I snap, tone much harsher than I mean it to be.
“I don’t know. You never told me what your parents do for work. It’s not something people seem to bring up.”
“My parents are dead to me,” I mutter under my breath, my leg bouncing a hundred miles an hour.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to bring up a sore spot. I’m just saying, people get weird when they find out. I just want to be treated like everyone else.”
“Ha. Of course, you do,” I spit, and Cam’s shoulders slump in a defeated way.Fuck. I’m such an asshole. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that.”
Damn that trembling bottom lip of his. “You shouldn’t have helped me. This is my fault.”
At those words, I bolt up from the bed and start pacing. “Like hell I shouldn’t have. Zack was going to fucking rape you! Don’t you get that? He wasn’t taking no for an answer. I should’ve cut his fucking dick off.”
As I rant, I catch my reflection in Cam’s mirror. Red face, deranged eyes, black hair askew. I look insane. Taking a breath, I force myself to sit on my bed.
Cam looks more alarmed than before, and I almost throw up, realizing it’s me he’s afraid of.
“Thank you,” he says in a calm voice, regaining some of the composure in his face.
These words catch me wholly off-guard. My blood pressure drops a few points.
“Why shouldn’t I tell my dad about Zack? I could defend you. Make sure you don’t get in trouble just for helping me.”
“Tell him if you want, but I don’t need your help with Dean Runkin. He’s getting what he wants from me. I’m not in trouble.”
“Getting what he wants?” Cam stands and crosses over to sit by me. He’s never sat on my bed before. He’s wearing bright yellow sweats and a matching sweater, the epitome of sunshine, sitting on my bare mattress, looking wholly out of place.
“The code I told you about, for the faculty grant funding thing,” I remind him.
He scoots closer, so our thighs are touching, and I shift away. There’s a little dip in his brow at the move. “People use you, Xan,” he says softly.
His words are too much. Too sweet. They hurt coming from him. I shift away so he won’t see the impact they have on my face.
