Camilla

twenty-one

C A M I L L A

Mae insisted she was fine to go back to school the next day. I didn't really want to let her, but Mom was back home and shooting herself up more than ever, so I drove her anyway.

I almost didn't go to school, because my anger was through the roof still, but it was because I was still mega pissed that I decided I should.

I don't think killing my mother would be the best way to deal with that problem.

So here I am, sitting in my car as I wait for it to get closer to the time school actually starts before entering the building, trying to prepare myself for today.

People are going to piss me off like crazy, I already know that. I can feel it. In fact, it'll be luck if I don't get into it with Mrs. Ruth. So, I mean, being alone for ten more minutes might be good for both my sake and the people in my classes.

When it hits 7:55, I decide it's probably  best if I go ahead and start walking toward the building, considering the first bell rang at 8:00 and the tardy bell ten minutes after that.

When I push open the doors, I hit someone with it. They turned to throw some attitude, but when they realized it's was me, they immediately snap their mouth closed and move out of the way.

I don't say anything, but I do flip the guy off before walking to my locker.

I make it to history just before the tardy bell sounds off, and Mr. Hicks looks surprised to see me in my seat on time. I ignore him and turn to look out the window instead of listening to him talk about Arabia or India or whatever the fuck was on the schedule for today. He gives us a homework assignment after class, but I know before it's even in my hand that I will not be doing this one.

When it was time for English, I take my time getting there. I mean, it's not really the brightest idea because if I'm late, Mrs. Ruth will not hesitate to point it out to me and my patience will fly  out the window in just seconds. 

But I don't want to see Gilligan. Not because I'm mad at him or anything, but because I know that if I see him, I will want to tell him about what happened yesterday. So I decide I'll try to be close enough to late, or even actually late, so I won't have the chance to talk to him.

The bell rings just as I walk through the door, and Mrs. Gwen glares at me. I shrug my shoulders at her and raise my eyebrow, daring her to say something. When all she does is huffs, I take my seat, giving Gilligan a small smile right before looking away and sitting down.

I'm able to spend the whole class looking at the board and pretending to listen to Mrs. Ruth talk about English all the while feeling Gilligan's eyes on me trying to get my attention. But I wasn't raised weak. I know very well how to avoid eye contact. 

Taylor looks over every once in a while, too, but I can't look that way without catching Gilligan's eye as well.

I do want to tell him about everything because I trust him a lot more than I trust anyone, excluding Taylor. But that's the problem. Trust can put you in deep shit, as I've learned from my mother.

When the bell signals the end of class and the start of lunch, I got up from my seat and leave the class before Gilligan can say anything, trying to at least make it to our table before having to talk to him.

"Camilla!" Gilligan calls after me.

I can't very well just not turn around without it seeming like I'm avoiding him.

I mean, I am, but only for a few more minutes.

I turn around anyway, forcing a smile onto my face and meeting his eyes. "Hey, Gillie."

He looks confused. "What's wrong?"

I pretend to be clueless. "What do you mean?"

He rolls his eyes and walks with me to my locker. "I mean that the smile on your face is as fake as Destiny's ass."

I think back to Destiny, who has clearly had some work done to her ass even though she's only twenty-five.

I shrug. "I don't know what you mean. I'm fine." My tone comes out slightly hostile, and I know by the glint in his eyes Gilligan has picked up on it.

"Is this about Saturday, Camilla? Because it's not that I didn't want to say anything-"

"This isn't about you, Gilligan," I sigh, turning to face him now that we've reached my locker. "It's a little bit deeper than my feelings and shit."

Now Gilligan looked confused. "Feelings?"

I think about what I said, realizing I just kind of admitted I have feelings for him. "Fuck. Look, I've got a lot going on right now. Maybe we should talk about this, like, later." I open my locker and shove all my books in it before grabbing my wallet.

Now I'm even more pissed. And it's my fault because my dumbass has gone and decided to spill the motherfucking beans about shit I had barely admitted to myself.

Gilligan shrugs, a cautious look passing over his face. "Alright. You sure you're okay, though? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

I sigh, closing the door to my locker a little too aggressively. "Yeah, I know."

We walk to lunch in silence. I know he wants to know why I'm being short today, but I also know he isn't willing to ask me about it again.

Taylor is at the table when we get there, and she shoots me a knowing look as I sit down and Gilligan takes his usual seat next to me.

She assumes the lead on the conversation, which is not a good idea. Taylor has never been very good at keeping the conversation away from what was obviously avoided. "Hey, how's Mae?"

Gilligan turns toward me. "What happened to Mae?"

I kicked Taylor under the table before answering smoothly. "She was sick yesterday."

I hate lying to Gilligan. It puts a bad feeling in my stomach, but what am I supposed to say? "Oh, you know, my mom just punched her so hard she flipped the coffee table over, just a normal Monday morning."

"Oh, that sucks. Is she okay?" He looks super concerned, and I feel my heart tug from the guilt of lying to his face.

"She went to school today, so I guess so." That was a lie hidden inside the truth. There was no fucking way Mae was okay, but she did go to school. So.

I need to change the topic from this immediately, so I bring up this weekend. "Oh, Gilligan, Mae has been missing your mom and I have a fight this weekend. Do you think she'd be willing to watch her?"

Gilligan shrugs and then nods. "I don't see why not. Can I come?"

I know I'll probably be over the need to kill anyone who even breathes at me by the end of the week, (not that I wouldn't still be pissed at my mother, because I didn't see myself ever not wanting to shove every single ounce of heroin down her throat) so I just shrug and say, "I don't care. It's not a tournament this time, though, so it'll probably go faster."

Gilligan shrugs. "Sounds good to me."