Where We Meet Again, стр. 59
“We should use this time for experiences, Cami. I want our future to have no regrets.”
“You and me, we’re a forever kind of thing.”
If that were true, then he’d have no problem being with me right now. But he had to go on.
“I’m going to date Steph.”
The memory of those words rang throughout my head as Law’s house came into sight. They made my gut clench and ache more than the Olympic speed I set my pace to in my desperation to get to Law before he left.
With the icy snow numbing my face, I couldn’t even feel the tears streaming down my cheeks.
I hit his porch still running and hurtled up all three steps in one leap. My fist collided with his front door. Still pounding, I shouted, “Law! Open up!”
Nobody yelled back, and the door didn’t move. I hiccupped a sob. A clarity entered my desperate mind. My surroundings appeared, and I took them in. Law’s truck wasn’t parked in the drive.
Disbelief placed my hand on the door handle and turned.
Shock moved my feet forward inside of his house.
Pain sent me running up the stairs to his second-floor bedroom.
Empty.
I barely made it to the edge of his bed before my knees gave out, and I collapsed. Naively, I thought my opinion would get to him. Would change his mind. He knew how much I cared about him, didn’t he? Why would he try so hard to push me away when I was begging him not to?
Why was she better than me?
I was stupid, that’s why. I’d lost just about everything. My parents were gone. Ritchie’s condition deteriorated daily. Maybe Law’s had enough of the lonely girl with the sad story? As many times as I heard bad news or lost somebody, he’d been there to support me. Could I blame him for saying enough is enough?
Maybe he’s right. He needed to have real high school experiences while he still could. Cancer and death and money were adult responsibilities he shouldn’t have to think about.
But where did that leave me? I couldn’t just walk away from my life. I couldn’t pretend my parents were still alive and that the brother I looked up to wasn’t dying from cancer.
The tears physically hurt as they trailed down my sensitive cheeks. I fisted my fingers into the soft duvet on his bed.
“Why now, Law?” I whispered.
“Cami? Are you all right?”
Law’s father stood in the entry to Law’s room, gripping the doorframe almost as if he were holding on.
I startled and dashed away the tears on my cheeks, but it was no use. They kept falling. “Y-yes. I’m sorry for barging in.”
“Did something happen to Ritchie?” He asked with the same tone of concern his son would have, and that twisted my heart further.
“No, sir. Nothing like that.”
“Law?” This time his voice held fear for himself. He stepped further into the room and stopped at the end of the bed, fingers gripping the footboard.
“No! I-I’m sorry,” I choked, another sob taking hold at hearing his name aloud. This might be the last time I sit in this house.
“Then what is it?”
I dropped my head, sucking in a deep breath through my nose. “We had a fight,” I muttered.
“Oh.”
“I love him, and he’s on a date with another girl.”
His father sighed and rounded the bed to sit beside me. “It’s no surprise to me you love my boy. The two of you have been nearly inseparable since we moved here when he was seven.”
A fresh wave of tears assaulted me at the years of memories.
“That said, he’s gonna do what he wants. That might mean seeing other girls. That might mean the two of you don’t end up together. But, Cami.” He waited until he had my attention. “As clichéd as this sounds, if it’s meant to be, he’ll come back to you.”
“That’s bullshit boys say so they can fool around while the girl waits for them to come back.”
He laughed, and his eyes focused faraway. “Yeah, maybe.”
“I don’t want to wait for someone who isn’t coming back.” I started crying again. I couldn’t get a handle on the pain and talking wasn’t helping me.
“Aw, girl. Come here. Don’t cry over my boneheaded son.” His father opened his arms wide, and I accepted. It’d been a long time since I’d had comfort from someone other than Law, and having spent so much time in his house, his dad was probably the closest thing I had to a parental figure. I didn’t view him as such, but so long as his son cared for me, he did as well.
Which meant if I lost Law, I’d lose his parents, too.
I was sick of loss. Why couldn’t anyone I loved stick around?
The tears wouldn’t stop. They worsened with the hug, so his father eventually pulled away. He handed me a tissue from the box on Law’s bed. “I don’t want to know why these are here,” he joked, getting a small smile from me. “Let me get you some water.”
When he left, I crawled up to Law’s pillow and curled into a ball on my side, facing the room. My head was a million miles away, in the land of memories and futures that would never happen, while my heart was lodged in my throat. Tears leaked continuously until the cotton beneath my cheek was soaked and strands of hair stuck to my face. The tissue clenched in my hand became useless.
It took a while for his father to return. I assumed he was calling Law to come deal with me, because what adult male wants to deal with a hormonal, crying, teenaged girl? But he came back with a soft look on his face and a glass of water in his hand.
He sat down close, the side of his left hip near the crook where mine bent, and handed