I'm fading.

To blackness.

Just like Mom did.

Then he opens the door and steps out of the car—not a single word spoken.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

-LUCY-

I spent all night crying so hard that I threw up. Numerous times. I told Rose I got drunk to celebrate end of finals—she didn't believe me, but she didn't call me out. She held my hair while I did everything I could to not knock on Cameron's door and demand an explanation. She helped me into bed, and held me while I cried—until I was so fucking exhausted from all of it that my cries finally lost their fight to control me.

*

When Minge opens the door to their room the next morning with a smile on his face, I don't question it.

When he sees that it's me and his face falls, and he partially closes the door, alarm bells start ringing.

When I ask him what's up and to open the door, and all he does is shake his head, I know something's wrong.

I flatten my palm against the door and shove it forward. He doesn't stop me.

When I see Roxy sitting on Cameron's bed, I die a little.

The bathroom door opens and he steps out, wearing nothing but sweatpants and a towel around his neck. He sees me first, and whatever look I have on my face—he matches. And then his eyes move to the girl on his bed. The one I can't bring myself to look at.

"Fuck," he spits, hurriedly taking the steps to get to me.

I step back, with my hands up so he knows I don't want him near me.

I swallow down the puke that's threatening to make its way out. My hands ball, but there's something in my right hand stopping me from forming a fist. And then reality sets in, and I remember why I'm here. I throw the phone past his head and watch it smash against a wall, shattering to pieces.

Just like my fucking heart.

He doesn't flinch.

He doesn't take his eyes off me.

"Your phone must have fallen out of your pocket when you were in my car. Your mom called—wanted to know about dinner tonight. I said yes, because I didn't have the heart to tell her."

He steps forward, out of his room, and closes the door behind him. "Tell her what?"

I shake my head, trying to settle my heart. Trying to calm myself down. Trying to stop myself from punching him in the fucking face.

"Tell her what, Luce?"

"That her son's an asshole."

If possible, his frown deepens.

And I do my best to act like I don't care—when inside, all I want to do is forgive him. Hold him. Love him.

-CAMERON-

"You're pissed at me?" Roxy says, linking arms with mine as we walk out of the final exam.

I yank my arm away from her grip. "I'm not pissed at you. I'm pissed at the entire fucking world, but you're not making shit easier for me. I mean, I'm grateful for your help, but you showing up in my room uninvited—"

"Hey, it's not the first time. Last time I showed up to help you study you didn't seem to have an issue."

I sigh, defeated. Because she's right. Everyone's right, and I'm fucking wrong.

"Anyway," she perks up. "I made a few phone calls about your car—turns out my cousin jacked your wheels, he apologizes." She lets out a cynical laugh. "He spent today putting them back on, but we need to catch the bus back to my house."

With all the shit going on with Lucy and finals, my car was the last thing on my mind.

I shove my hand in my pocket searching for my phone to text Lucy, but I don't have one because she decided it was a fucking good idea to smash it against a wall. When she did it, I didn't care. Now—I'm a little pissed.

"Let's go," I tell Roxy. "But I need to go straight there and back, I don't have time to fuck around."

*

"I was gonna hotwire it and take it for a spin," Roxy's cousin, Joe, says. "But Rox said she'd grab my balls and put 'em in a vice. Ain't nobody want that shit."

I laugh.

He continues. "She's got that Latina fire, you know?"

My eyes snap to Roxy. "You're Latina?"

She scoffs.

He snorts. "What? The big titties and fat ass didn't give it away."

She smacks him on the back of the head. He chuckles, but then his eyes narrow. "How long you two been bumpin' uglies?"

I choke.

She speaks for me. "We're not. Cam has a girl."

"Huh," he says in response, then turns to Rox. "Yo, last final today right?"

She nods.

"Good. I got you a case of beers—put it in your studio. Let's drink."

"Sounds like a plan," she says through her own chuckle.

Joe eyes me for a moment. "What about you, rich kid? Up for a beer?"

It's not really a question, because his hand has curled around my neck and he's already leading me through the house.

"I'm not rich," I tell him, feeling the buzz of the beer in my head. It was supposed to be one, but I'm on my third, or fourth. I don't know. The only thing I know is that it's the first time in a long time that I've relaxed and been able to be myself.

"Yeah?" He eyes me up and down. "But you drive a Delorean? Those things ain't cheap."

"My mom's boyfriend got it for me. He's rich. Not us. We're... common folk."

"Common folk meaning poor," Roxy chimes in.

I stand up and stumble to pull another beer from the case, not even caring that it's warm. I raise one to Joe in offering. He shakes his head. They both laugh. I don't know why. Maybe I'm slow on the uptake because of the beers, or maybe I'm just missing something. "No, bro," Joe says. "A stint in rehab and AA means I stick to the soda." He lifts his can to show me. I hadn't even realized he wasn't drinking. I let his words settle, and then howl with laughter.

"What?" he asks, smiling as he does. "What's funny?"

I flop back on the couch and wait for my laughter to die down before I speak. "Just that you go to AA, but you think it's okay to jack wheels and steal shit."

"Hey!" he says, pointing a finger at me. "I'm like a Robin Hood of the hood. Steal from the rich—give to the poor. Besides..." He shrugs. "Jacking wheels never hurt family." He and Rox share a look, but I don't delve deeper.

"What about your girl?" Joe asks out of nowhere.

"Lucy?"

He shrugs. "If that's her name."

"What about her?"

"She common folk, too?"

I snort with laughter. "No, dude. Her family's loaded."

"Huh," he says. "Is she cute?"

Instantly, I smile. I don't realize that I do, but I do. And it feels like a first. "Yeah, man. She's cute. Beautiful. Sexy as hell, really."

"Oh, shit. You're like... in love with her?"

"Of course," I tell him, not skipping a beat. "I've loved her since we were fifteen and I'll love her forever." I search for my phone again, before remembering I don't have one, so I pull out my wallet instead. I open it and show him the picture of us I keep in there.

He lets out a low whistle. "Shit, man, you weren't kidding." He pats my back, as if congratulating me. He should be proud. I am proud. I did fucking good with Lucy.