“What?” My eyes dart to Randall.

  “A warrant was issued to search his house, and after finding a photo of the two of you and a few articles of female clothing, they felt they had enough evidence to file charges, so they made the arrest this morning.”

  Why would he keep that photo?

  My stomach turns, knotting itself into a rock. I didn’t think I could break anymore, but somehow I do as images of David in handcuffs pop into my mind.

  I drop my head into my hands and blink back tears, but with my chest heaving in severing breaths, they see right through me.

  “I will do whatever you tell me to do,” Randall says. “If you prefer to talk to me without your mother present, we can do that, but you staying quiet won’t make this go away. It’s only a matter of time before this gets picked up by the media. Something like this is always news, but in this town, you can guarantee it’s going to get a lot of attention.”

  I lift my head in horror when he tells me this.

  My mother panics. “How do we keep that from happening?”

  “Again, your names won’t be mentioned due to Camellia still being a minor, but there are always cameras in the courthouse for these initial appearances in front of the judge. When he goes in for the charges to be read, the media is going to have a field day with the story, so I’m just warning you.”

  I clam up, and my lungs tighten, making it even harder to breathe. “How is this happening?”

  “So what do we do?”

  “There isn’t much you can do,” he tells my mom. “Either you cooperate or you don’t. You have the right to do whichever you choose.” He then turns his attention to me. “I’m going to be straightforward with you though. I read through those texts, and from what I saw, whether you cooperate or not, they have enough to possibly charge him with multiple counts of second degree rape.”

  “From text messages? How can they do that?”

  “They will charge one count for each time they feel they can prove sexual contact based on your conversations.”

  “A count? I don’t understand.”

  “A count means each individual time the crime occurred. If they can prove sexual contact occurred two times, they will charge him for the same crime twice,” he explains. “And for this particular charge, each count holds a maximum sentence of fifteen years imprisonment.”

  “He didn’t do anything wrong though!” I burst out, my eyes darting between the both of them before landing on Randall. “I promise you, he didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “You do understand that everything you say to me is confidential, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but I’m telling you the truth.”

  “They found a picture in his house of him kissing you.”

  My mother huffs in repulsion from her spot next to him, and I narrow my eyes. There was nothing repulsive about that moment I foolishly captured and printed off for him to put in his office.

  “It was a kiss on the cheek, that’s all,” I defend. “It was purely innocent, I swear.”

  “That’s not how the prosecution will see it.”

  “Well, if you want me to help them, I won’t. I’m not saying anything.”

  “Camellia,” my mother scolds harshly.

  “No, Mom!” I turn to Randall, pleading, “What can we do to help him. There has to be something, right?”

  “That man is a child molester!”

  I pop out of my chair. “No, he isn’t! Oh my God, are you crazy?” I yell at my mother, wishing to pour acid on her words.

  “If she won’t cooperate, surely I can, right? I’m her mother.”

  “Yes,” Randall says. “Again, since she’s a minor, you can step in.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  Her eyes narrow, “I can, and I certainly will.”

  “With what? You don’t even know anything, so how the hell do you think you’re going to help?”

  “I don’t understand why you want to protect this man when—” She stops, and I see cognizance sharpen in her eyes. For the sake of appearances, she comes across as a concerned mother when she softens her voice so tenderly and says, “Sweetheart, whatever you feel for this man is only the result of his manipulations.”

  “You have no idea what I feel or don’t feel about anything.”

  “It’s clear you want to protect him.”

  “Because he didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Or maybe because you feel like you love him?”

  I bite my lip when she says this, but I can’t stop my chin from quivering. There is no alleviating the vicious suffering of this love ripped so violently out of my chest. My eyes singe with tears that I quickly blink back before saying, “If this is about punishing a man who you feel hurt me, then don’t do it, because he never hurt me. The only thing hurting me is everyone else.” And when I can no longer bear the thought of something bad happening to David, my defense cracks and a tear falls. “I’m begging you . . . don’t do this. You have to trust me. Please. Just let it go.”

  The room falls silent aside from the few whimpers that escape me as loss consumes. Never, not even after losing my dad, have I felt so depleted and empty inside. It’s like a tomb of hollowness, waiting for me to keel over and fill it. And the sickening thing is, it doesn’t even scare me. I want to embrace the idea when I think of what could happen to David.

  My mother stands and, with a quiet tone, thanks Randall for stopping by. “I think we should give her a little time. This is all so sudden.”

  “Of course. Please, call me if you need anything. Until then, I will keep in contact with the DA and let you know of any new developments. Though I’m not sure how forthcoming they will be if you’re unwilling to cooperate.”

  “I understand.”

  She shows him to the front door, and with nothing left in me, I head to my room.

  When I pass my mom, she drops her façade and digs the knife in deeper. “I can’t believe you were stupid enough to fall in love with that pervert. You just better hope when this hits the news, nobody finds out it was you. I don’t want our name being dragged through the mud.”

  I turn and face her dead on. “You know, sometimes I think the only reason you had me was because it was what Dad desired. That you never actually wanted me. That maybe you’re just as needy as I am for love that you gave him whatever it was he asked for. So in the end, I guess you’re just as stupid as I am.”

  I’M FILLED WITH DREAD AS I sit in the school’s office. It’s hard to believe it was only Monday when I got called down here.

  In five days, my whole world has turned into a collision course of life-altering disasters I doubt I’ll ever come back from.

  Ten months ago, the universe altered my life forever in two very different ways. In one swoop, it took my father away and gave me David, only to take him away too. There was no bracing for the impact those two events would have on me. Life doesn’t give warnings; it does what it pleases, forcing us to accept whatever it decides to hand out.

  I waited until the end of the day to come meet the guidance counselor. She called earlier while I was at home—ditching again—with concerns about my graduating and insisted I come into her office immediately.

  The principal emerges from his office and, when he sees me, gives me an uncomfortable look. Thank goodness he is the only one that knows I’m the reason why David doesn’t work here any longer. Never have I appreciated discreetness so much.

  “Cam,” Mrs. Harlow calls when she peeks out from her office and waves me in.

  I sit down and look at the posters on her walls while she digs through the pile of files on her messy desk.

  One of the posters reads: All of Our Dreams Can Come True if We Have the Courage.

  What a load of crap.

  But it’s the one hanging next to the door that causes my eyes to roll: No One is Perfect. That’s Why We Have Erasers.

  “How are you today?” she asks in a nasally voice, pulling my attention away from her st
upid posters.

  “Fine.”

  “Is everything at home okay?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “You’ve been marked absent four days in a row this week,” she tells me. “All of them unexcused.”

  “I’ve been sick and my mom has been really busy with work, so it probably just slipped her mind to call and excuse those absences.” It’s a sad state when you realize lying has become second nature.

  “Well, I hope you’re feeling better,” she says. “But unfortunately, you’ve far exceeded your absences for the year. I spoke to Mr. Sanders, and he waived a handful of them, but any more days missed will cause you to receive a No Credit in your classes.”

  “How many more days are left?”

  “What’s that, dear?” she questions as her glasses almost fall off the tip of her nose.

  “Of school,” I clarify. “How many more days?”

  After pushing her glasses up, she clicks open the calendar on her computer and starts tapping her pen against the monitor. She is physically counting each day remaining. Everything annoys me these days, but this does more than annoy, this scathes my nerves. All I really want to know is how long I have to endure the torture of coming to school.

  “Forty-seven days.”

  I make her a promise to attend class and then leave her office. Before heading to my car, I decide to grab all my belongings from the locker room while I’m up here. The final bell rang a while ago, and since I’m sure the pool is locked up, I grab the key I still have to let myself in, but it’s already unlocked when I push the doors open.

  When I walk in, I see Linze sitting on the bleachers.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Waiting on Kyle,” she responds, slighted in the same tone of unease as I am. “He left some stuff in the locker room.”

  I open my mouth to say something, but there isn’t anything there except a feather-light tug on one of my last remaining heartstrings. It’s the longing to have someone—anyone—after I’ve lost everyone. I give her an awkward nod and then walk away.

  While I’m grabbing all my belongings, I hear a ruckus of voices from the pool area, and curse the intrusion. David hasn’t been at school all week, so I’m sure people are already starting to question his whereabouts. I wonder if it’s even been addressed by administration that he won’t be returning.

  Zipping up my bag, I’m hoping to walk out of here as unnoticed as possible, but I stop just shy of the locker room entrance when I overhear his name being mentioned.

  “Have you heard the rumor about Coach Andrews?”

  I peek around the tiled wall and catch a glimpse of Taylor, Ming, and a handful of other girls from the team before retreating back out of view.

  “It’s not a rumor,” Taylor says.

  “Eww, it’s so gross when you think about it. I mean, if it’s even true.”

  “Oh, come on,” another girl chimes in. “It isn’t that gross. Coach is totally hot.”

  “You guys, he’s old.”

  “Don’t be such a prude, Ming. He’s only in his thirties.”

  “That guy was a total perv though,” Taylor says. “This one time, while he was working out one of my leg cramps, he totally put the moves on me. I’m telling you, he’s a grade A Chester the Molester.”

  They all break out in a fit of giggles as I fist my restless hands in fury at Taylor’s blatant lies.

  “Seriously though,” she continues. “What I’m about to say next you have to swear not to repeat.”

  They all agree in eager unison, and I tilt my head to listen closer when Taylor drops her voice. “It was Cam. Last week when we were in Norman, I saw them kissing.”

  My heart spits venom through my veins, and I have no doubt it was her that ratted us out. Poison fills my bloodstream, spurring on the rage as it spreads and causing my limbs to shake violently.

  “She’s so tragic. It must have been easy prey for him.”

  Everything inside me snaps in an instant, and my vision bleeds red as I lose all control. I charge after her, barreling the palms of my hands into her shoulders and knocking her down.

  “You bitch!”

  “What the hell?” she screeches, and when I clobber her, the place erupts in loud chaos.

  Shouting comes from all directions, but all I focus on is her.

  “You’re such a liar! How could you do that to him?”

  Her arms flail wildly at me, hitting me in the face in pathetic slaps that are no match for the pure hate pouring from me. “Get the fuck off me, you nasty slut!”

  A storm of voices explodes around us, it rings in my ears, but I keep screaming and taking swings, striking her as hard as I can.

  “Calm the fuck down, Cam!” Kyle shouts when he jerks me away, pinning my back to his chest.

  “Let go!”

  “You’re fucking crazy,” Taylor spits as Zane, another guy from the team, steps in front of her and holds her back.

  I claw my nails into Kyle’s arms, never relenting on Taylor. “You were so desperate for his attention, and everyone knows it. You’re so full of shit!”

  “At least I’m not a whore, ratchet face.”

  Kyle’s grip on me tightens the minute her words come out, and I start thrashing with everything I have.

  “You’re dead!” I scream, my throat burning with sour bile from the pit of my stomach. My vision blurs as I spew my hatred at the one who’s the cause of my soul being ripped out of me, for my love sitting in a jail cell, for destroying something that was so beautiful—so perfectly beautiful. “You’re a goddamn liar!”

  “Oh, really,” she taunts while trying to wrench out of Zane’s hold. “So what were you doing coming out of his hotel room then? Huh? I bet you were a lousy lay anyway.”

  I claw into Kyle’s arms as I try to lurch at her, and he hisses when I shed blood.

  “Zane, get her the fuck out of here!” Kyle yells, dragging me in the opposite direction.

  “You’re destroying his life with your jealousy,” I wail in thick emotion as David’s reality cuts through the fury of my adrenaline.

  “Nobody wants you, Cam, not after you’ve hacked up your disgusting body. You’re nothing but trash.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Taylor!” Zane bites as he pulls her back toward the bleachers.

  Kyle hoists me higher in his arms, lifting my feet off the ground, and carries me out the doors as I continue to struggle and sling vileness at Taylor.

  “Grab her bag, Linz,” he shouts over his shoulder.

  “Put me down.”

  When we get to the parking lot, he lets go of me, and I belly over. With hands on my knees, I gasp as I try to catch my breath.

  “Dude, what the hell?” Kyle exclaims, and when I lift my head, a rush of tingles prick my skin.

  Never in my life have I ever been so angry, so skull-cracking angry.

  “Don’t believe her, Kyle. None of it’s true.”

  “You’re not doing yourself any favors by losing your shit like that in front of everyone.”

  “You know him,” I stress. “You’ve known him all year.”

  “Yeah, Cam. As my coach,” he says. “But I don’t know what that guy does on his own time.”

  I look over to Linze, who’s clearly shocked by what she just witnessed. Never have I lost control of myself like that, and she knows it. She knows how levelheaded and easy going I am—or was.

  “It’s not true,” I say in breathlessness to the both of them, suddenly worried about what they must be thinking.

  “Then why get so worked up?” Kyle’s words drip in suspicion, and I take a step back, scared that outburst was my tell.

  “Cam would never do anything like that, Kyle.” My eyes fly to Linze, stunned and so grateful that she just defended me. “She’s not that kind of person.”

  She’s wrong.

  I am that kind of person.

  I’m the disgusting lark who fell prey to the pervert. That’s exactly how they will paint it, ev
en though it’s so far from the truth.

  Linze holds my bag out, and when I take it from her, I realize just how far we’ve drifted when I see that she actually believes me—believes my lie. Unable to get my emotions back under control after losing it so badly, I turn away and head to my car without another word spoken for fear I’ll choke on my sadness in front of them.

  I know I shouldn’t go by his house, but I can’t help myself.

  I don’t know what I expect to get out of driving over there.

  Maybe it’s a desperate yearning for some sort of solace, but it only makes me feel worse to see his house and to know he isn’t inside. The relentless burning of loneliness feels like acid dripping slowly on my once fully fleshed heart, which David was able to fill. He brought me to life, and now I feel like death. I’m so tired, so in need of consoling, but I have nowhere to go, no one to turn to, so I drive back to the one place that holds what I need.

  The sun set over an hour ago, and when I return to the school, nothing remains of the earlier chaos. Vacant and quiet, I take my dad’s key and walk into the building. The pool glows brilliant blue in the dark room, and I inhale deeply, so deep I feel my lungs splitting. But it’s all I can do to fill myself with what once was. The chemicals from the chlorine burn my nose and make my eyes water as I take in the smell that will always remind me of everything I’ve lost. It’s a fragrance that’s pungently sharp to most, but not to me. To me, it smells so sweet I can taste it on the back of my tongue.

  I look around this place, which holds so many memories. It’s where my dad jumped into the pool fully clothed because he was so overjoyed when I set the school record. Someone snapped a photo of the moment, and it wound up on the front page of the school’s newspaper. It’s also where I shared my first kiss with David. A kiss laced in so much hesitation between us, but a kiss that forever changed me. Without it, I would have never experienced what falling in love truly felt like. Because that was what he showed me—love in its purest form.

  I miss them.

  I miss them both so much.

  I never knew how easily life could slip away, how one second you could have the world in the palm of your hand, only to have it disappear with a single tick of time.