Camilla

twelve

C A M I L L A

So Gilligan was a good guy, and he continued to prove this throughout the next few weeks. He also had not asked me any questions about my boxing, and so I thought I was off the hook. He had, however, asked if I meant it when I (basically) said that we were friends.

It was one of the hardest things I've ever done to say yes while he was looking smug and Taylor was grinning proudly. Thinking back, punching him in the throat would have been much more enjoyable. 

Today, though, the tone of voice he uses lets me know I'm not off the hook. 

"I was thinking," Gilligan starts, and Taylor immediately turned her full attention toward him, being a good friend. She'd make for a wonderful therapist. I don't understand how she can listen to people talk so often. I just look over lazily, boredom showing in my eyes. "That the three of us could go out to dinner tonight. You know, talk about the whole Camilla-being-an-illegal-street-fighter thing." I can't help but glance around the cafeteria, making sure no one is listening even though I know no one would dare. Besides, he was talking quietly. But I can't be too careful. 

"Just say boxer," I say, narrowing my eyes at him. "It's not as shady sounding." Granted, that doesn't change the fact that it is, indeed, illegal and shady. 

"Right, sorry. But I still think we should."

"I think you should fuck off," I tell him. Not because I'm pissed at the idea of going out to dinner or whatever, but because it seemed like the perfect time to let the words out. I've been upset all day anyway. This anger definitely stems from me waking up to find Mae frowning at something in her hand. It was a fucking needle. And not the one used for sewing, but the one used for getting high on street corners and living room couches. "Sorry," I shrug, though I'm not. "Rough morning."

Taylor frowns at me, but I don't want to see sympathy so I looked back at Gilligan who just looks confused at the little moment that has passed between Taylor and I. 

"I think it sounds like fun," Taylor nods, looking at me with hopeful eyes. "What do you say?"

"Who's going to watch Mae?" I ask them.

"My mom can," Gilligan shrugs his shoulders as if it's the easiest thing in the world. "Or you can bring her with us," he adds.

"I'd rather not dig into my shady life with my little sister sipping a milkshake next to me," I retort. Sure, she knows that I'm a fighter. But she doesn't know it's illegal. That I could get into deep shit if I was ever caught. Sure, she knows not to talk about it at school, but she also knows not to talk about her mother shoving stuff into her veins and dancing half naked in front of strangers all night. 

Gilligan raises his hands in surrender. "Sorry."

I shake my head to dismiss his apology. "Are you sure your mom would want to watch her?"

He nods. "She met Mae back when I babysat her for you. She literally loves the little girl. Last night, I'm pretty sure I caught her in the kitchen thinking about Mae. She had this hopeful look in her eyes." 

I stifle a laugh, but a small smile lights up my lips as I think about Mae and the effect she has on people. I force it off my face quickly. "Alright," I take a drink from my water. "Whatever."

But under the table, by foot taps nervously. I trust Gilligan, sure, but that doesn't mean it's the right choice. 

I just hope that it is.