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People got along just fine for centuries before they were welded to their stupid phones. And I won’t have any messages from anyone I care about hearing from right now. Because Camden is the only one I really want to hear from and she doesn’t have my cell number because I’m a jackass who never thought to give it to her.
She’s not scheduled to work at Dee’s today and I have no clue if she took the first after school bus. If she did, then she’s probably already at home. And I know where her house is. I walked her there once. I kissed her goodnight at her front door and then ran home feeling like I’d just won the fucking World Series or something.
With this thought in mind I change direction, hop two chain link fences and cut across the empty Devil Valley High field. Some kids are clustered together beneath the bleachers, probably doing something illegal. “Beltran!” one of them bellows but it’s not Camden’s voice and so I act like I don’t hear.
Five minutes later I’ve just rounded the corner of Camden’s street when I see something that makes every ounce of the blood in my veins turn to ice.
And then, an instant later, to murderous fury.
Camden
Ben is all I can think about when I wake up after a fitful night. I don’t expect that we’ll hug it out at the bus stop after yesterday’s terrible fight but I can’t stand the way we left things.
And I know the next move needs to be mine.
Apparently as I sit at the kitchen table with my elbows propped up while glaring into my orange juice glass I look wretched enough for Frankie to notice. As he snatches his English muffin from the toaster he says, “What’s the matter, Cam? You get a B on a test?”
“No.” I make a face at him. My dad left for work hours ago and Adela returned to bed after I assured her I’d make sure Frankie got out the door on time. “Nothing so tragic.”
Frankie stops squirting grape jelly on his breakfast and eyes me. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”
My kid brother doesn’t need to know all the sordid details. Still, I feel like I need to confess to someone. “There’s a possibility I might have overreacted about something.”
He snorts. “Impossible. Teenage girls never overreact about anything ever.”
I throw a dishtowel at him. “Says the fifteen-year-old expert.”
He grins and cocks his head. “If it’s bugging you then make it right.”
“I’m not sure I can.”
Because the truth is, if Ben and I can’t get through a single day without erupting into a furious argument, then we don’t stand a chance.
And anyway, what kind of future is there with a guy who says you can’t ask him any questions?
Frankie throws the dishtowel back at me. “You need to try. Okay?”
It’s funny that he really has no idea what my problem is and yet he can offer outstanding advice. “Okay.”
After Frankie leaves I wash the dishes, check on Adela and then walk to the bus stop with a mix of anxiety and hope. Maybe it’s all for nothing and after yesterday’s spectacle Ben has decided that I’m not worth the trouble. But Ben never shows up at all. Since the morning he swaggered up to the bus stop on his first day at BMA I don’t think he’s ever been absent.
This might have nothing to do with me.
Maybe he just wanted an extra day of vacation or woke up with the flu.
But by mid morning I’m sunk in a Bah, humbug! level of grumpiness while everyone around me is on a holiday high. So I decide to seek out someone who might have an answer.
“Trina!” I catch up with my friend en route to the cafeteria.
“Hey.” She takes my arm. “You’re not eating in the newsroom today. The new issue is live. It’s time to celebrate. Come and dine with the rest of us slobs.”
“I’m not hungry. But I need to talk to your boyfriend for a minute.”
She doesn’t seem surprised. “Is this about Ben?”
There’s no reason to lie. “Sort of. Yes.”
She grins and tugs me along. “Let’s go find my boy then.”
