BELONGS TO ME

Chapter 9

Camila

When my grandma died, it felt unexpected. Even though we knew she was sick, knew the treatments weren't working and the poison was taking over her body, I didn't expect it. Not when the day before, she was awake and alive, smiling, seemingly feeling better or okay...unlike every other day the six months prior.

I guess that was the giveaway—the white flag of surrender. That perfect day of laughs and smiles and memories she gave us, that she herself was given. That was her last strong, happy, full day before she joined my grandpa.

... Maybe that should have been my first clue, the uninhibited happiness and relief I felt not two hours ago, when Shawn was mine for those few minutes in the sand.

It was perfect, and it meant something, and Shawn wasn't that guy. He'd never sleep with me then disregard me after. Sure, he screws around as much as Carl, and not nearly as much as Harry, but he'd never do that to me, to our friendship. Not when he knew how I felt. I may have never spelled it out in big, bold letters, but he knew. He had to.

Last night, or early this morning, depending how you look at it, we dressed, making our way to the house. Shawn brought out a blanket, lit the fire pit, and we sat there under the stars, enjoying each other's company, watching as the moon disappeared with the rise of the sun.

About twenty minutes after dawn was when Carl came home.

I didn't move, but Shawn, he jumped ten feet.

We were only sitting close, our bodies touching but not wrapped in each other. I think the fire and the sunrise made it look as intimate as it felt, and maybe that was a bit much for the first time he saw Shawn and me together. Then again, I lie with Harry all the time and while Carl will make a remark, he doesn't lose it the way he does when it comes to Shawn.

Does he not trust him?

Does he not trust him with me?

Everything was as perfect as it could have been prior to that. I finally had what I'd wanted for so long—that perfect moment with the perfect person. Everything was perfect.

Yet, here we are, the morning after, staring at each other from across an entirely different fire.

We're sitting on the deck, and Shawn is gauging me, a torn expression written along his features as he begs me to understand him when he's yet to say a word.

Not that he could right now, and for that I'm grateful, because he doesn't have to for me to know exactly what will leave his mouth should he try.

As promised, we made our way to Ross's, where our parents cooked us a giant feast. It's meant to lift our spirits, but the tone is solemn, so I can hide a little behind the hurt we all feel for the young woman who has yet to leave her room this morning.

My brother joins the rest of us on the back deck then, scrubbing his hands down his face as he plops beside me.

"How is she?" I manage to whisper, forcing myself to stay focused on my brother.

Carl sighs. "She said she's fine, but who knows. Justin said she's the 'suffer in silence' type, so I'm guessing she's full of shit. She's safe and where she belongs though, so I guess she's taken care of. She let Sabrina stay in there, so that's got to be a good sign."

I nod, and he drops his head onto my shoulder, closing his eyes a moment. Mine flick across the flame.

Shawn's brows draw in so tight, they're practically touching, and his gaze falls to his lap.

I jolt from the literal pain that shoots through my chest and Carl's head snaps my way.

He frowns instantly, and I know my eyes are glossed over, but I offer a tight smile, one he convinces himself is for the pain our family is going through.