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More Than Forever

Page 6

   


Mom wipes at the fallen tears on her cheeks. "I don't know what to say, Cam. I mean... you've always cared too much. Even as a kid you were bringing home strays... but this... this might be too far, even for you. This is someone's life. Someone's family. You take away some of that burden from her and it becomes yours. That's a huge responsibility for a kid your age. Are you sure no one else can help her?"
Her words instantly piss me off. She doesn't need anyone else. She has me. "I just want to help."
She nods slowly, picking up the wine and taking another sip. "We have to talk about this some more. Let me think about—"
"Think about what? I'm not stopping." My tone's defensive. Because even though she's trying to help, I know she's trying to find a way to take Lucy away from me. "You can't stop me from seeing her."
There's shock clear on her face, and I get it. I really do. But she has no idea how much Lucy means to me. And until right now, neither did I.
"Honey, I'm not going to."
"Good." I stand up with a huff. "Because I'm a good kid. You can't deny that. I always do what you ask. I never break the rules and I'm not doing anything wrong."
"I know that, Cameron." She stares up at me with pity in her eyes and I glare down at her. My heart pounds hard against my chest. I'm angry. I'm annoyed. And I'm frustrated because she doesn't understand it. But then again, neither do I.
Then Mark clears his throat. "She's kinda cute, right?"
I can't help the hint of a smile that forms on my face. "I'm going to bed."
"Goodnight," they both say, but I'm already half way up the stairs.
"At some point, you're going to have to start acting like his dad, Mark, not his cool big brother," Mom says quietly.
"Heather, I'll adopt him right now and start acting like a dad if you finally say yes to marrying me."
I chuckle under my breath.
Mom responds, "That's not gonna happen."
"You're breaking my heart, you know that?"
I close my bedroom door and throw myself onto my bed. I'm exhausted. But then I think about Lucy, and how tired she must be, and it doesn’t even compare. Shoving my hand in my pocket, I pull out my phone and bring up her number. I don't even think, I just dial.
"Hello?"
"Lucy?"
"Yeah..."
"Thank you for bringing me my phone. I don't think I said it when you were here."
Silence.
I clear my throat. "It's Cameron."
More silence.
I hang up.
Shit, that was awkward.

My phone vibrates in my hand. Her name flashes on the screen. I stand up and start pacing. The ringing stops. "Shit." I dial her number—busy tone. I try again—same thing. Then mine rings. I answer. "Hello?" I'm so anxious I smash the phone to the side of my face. And then I drop it...
"Hello? Cam?" The sound of her voice through the speakers fills all my senses.
"Hang on!" I yell. "I dropped the phone." I turn in circles rubbing the side of my face and looking for my phone. Where the hell did it go?
"Hello?" she says again.
"Shit."
"Hello?"
I drop to the floor and search for it. It's under my bed. Of course it is. I move the stack of porn hidden there and reach for it. "I dropped my phone. Just wait. Please don't hang up," I yell.
"Okay."
When the phone's in my hand, I start to panic.
A knock on the door has me jumping out of my skin. Covering the phone with my palm, I open the door.
Mark's eyes narrow when he sees my face... then widen when he sees the phone in my hand. A slow smirk develops. "Lucy?" he whispers.
I nod frantically.
He places his hands on my shoulders and shakes me gently. "You got this, kid. Just be yourself." I keep nodding. His eyes wander to somewhere behind me. "Your porn's on display." I turn around to see the last year's worth of magazines spread out on the floor. I must've knocked them over. I kick them back under the bed. By the time I turn back to the door, he's gone.
I blow out a huge breath and bring the phone to my ear. "Hello?"
"Hey."
My fist clenches at my side as an attempt to reign in my nerves. "What are you doing?"
"Uh... not much, just packing the boys' lunch for tomorrow."
"Cool." Cool? Loser! I'm a fucking loser!
"What are you doing?" she asks. I can hear her own nerves in her voice and for some stupid reason it's reassuring. Like I'm not the only one that feels like the future lies in this one conversation.
"I'm just laying in bed. I'm exhausted."
She chuckles—it's the first time I've ever heard it. "I know what you mean."
"Yeah? You can't do the boys' lunches tomorrow morning?"
She yawns, loudly, for so long it makes me laugh.
"I'm sorry," she says. And I can almost picture her smiling. "No. If I do it tomorrow I'd have to wake up at four. It's just easier this way."
I try to think of a way to help her out. "I'd come over in the morning, but I have early practice."
"Oh no, I don't expect you to do that. You do so much already."
It hits me as strange now—how open she is on the phone, compared to how shut down she is in person.
"Crud bucket," she whispers.
I laugh. "Crud bucket?"
"Lachlan's up. I gotta settle him."
"Oh." My heart sinks. I was hoping to spend some time talking, getting to know her a little.
"It should only take a few minutes. I could call you right back?"
"Yes!" My eyes snap shut. I'm eager. Way too eager.
"Okay. I'll call you soon. Don't drop your phone this time."
"Okay," I say through my stupidly huge grin.
I take the time to settle my nerves so that I don't sound like a dick on the phone. A few minutes later, she calls back. "So your mom and dad seem nice."
"Oh that's not my dad. That's my mom's boyfriend."
"Really? Well... he seems nice."
"Yeah, they're good people."
"How did they meet?"
"You really wanna know?"
"Yes. I love a good romance. Please, will you tell me?"
So I do—because I don't think I could ever say no to her.
I tell her everything, and she listens and asks questions. And even though none of it really matters to her, the fact that we're actually talking matters to me.
"So you read a lot?" I ask.
"Yeah. Well, I used to. It's hard to find the time now. By the time everyone's in bed, I study. I normally fall asleep with my e-reader on my face." She laughs quietly. "I'm such a dork."
-LUCY-
He sighs into the phone, and I try not to imagine him lying in bed, with his messy, dirty blond hair smeared all over the place, and his huge dark eyes staring up at the ceiling, blinking away the tiredness the way he does. Then I try not to wonder what he's wearing, or not wearing. "You're not a dork," he says. "You're cute."