All in Pieces

  I laugh. “That’s why I do it. Keeping it interesting.”

  “I don’t think you have to worry about not being interesting,” he says, walking past me to the car.

  * * *

  “Savannah!” Kendra calls when I walk inside the house. She looks honestly happy to see me.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “How’ve you been, honey?” she asks, coming over to me. “We’ve been so worried.”

  “I’m all right,” I say.

  Her blond hair is pulled into a ponytail at her neck, and she’s dressed up, smelling like vanilla. Cameron walks into the kitchen, leaving me alone with his mother. I’m not quite sure how to act. I’m embarrassed that she knows the truth.

  She presses her lips together, looking over my face. I can see that she wants to ask about Evan. “Are you hungry?” she asks instead.

  “Starving,” I say, making her smile.

  “Oh, good,” she says. “Marcel and I are going out to dinner, but I ordered two pizzas. They’re in the kitchen.”

  My mouth opens. “You’re . . . you’re leaving?” One, Cameron lied to me about his mother. Two, is Kendra really okay with leaving me alone with her son? At night? After what happened to my brother, I can’t believe she’d welcome me here so openly. I’m not sure how she can be so kind.

  “We have reservations,” she says, pulling her eyebrows together. “But if you want me to stay, we can adjust our plans.”

  “No,” I say. “Cameron . . . you know what? Never mind.”

  “Sutton?” Cameron calls from the other room. His mother tsks. She probably thinks it’s rude that he calls me by my last name, but I actually like when he does it. I always have.

  “Have fun,” I tell Kendra. She and Marcel leave, and I go into the kitchen and find Cameron with his head inside the fridge.

  “You summoned me?” I ask.

  “Pizza?”

  “Yeah, hand me a plate.”

  Cameron sets two sodas on the counter, and then grabs plates for us. The moment is so normal that it stings a little going down. And I’m not sure I deserve this sort of happy, but I’m tired of fighting it.

  * * *

  “This is a terrible movie,” Cameron says. I look sideways at him as we sit together on his leather sofa. He’s sitting close. Closer than a friend would. I shift over a little.

  “It’s not that bad,” I say. Of course his family has a huge flat-panel, only-rich-people-would-ever-waste-their-money-on-it TV.

  “Terrible,” he whispers.

  He’s right. The movie is stupid and this is stupid. We aren’t even really watching it. Things are starting to get uncomfortable, both of us waiting to see if something will happen between us. It totally shouldn’t because Cameron doesn’t need someone like me and I shouldn’t mess with someone like him. But the sexual tension is there anyway.

  He clears his throat.

  Shit. I should leave. Things are about to get awkward.

  “Savannah?”

  I don’t answer.

  “Hey,” he says, pushing my shoulder.

  I turn to him, pretending that I hadn’t heard. “Oh. What?”

  He smiles a little as he looks down at the couch, and then back up at me. His brown eyes search my face, pausing at my lips. “I want to kiss you so bad right now,” he says.

  My entire body responds, warming to him. I don’t know how to answer. I’m just sort of shocked.

  “Can I?” he asks.

  “Kiss me?”

  He laughs. “Yeah.”

  “No.”

  “Please.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  He nods, still smiling, and looks toward the TV. “Okay.”

  I wait a second and then I lean over, gather his T-shirt in my hand, and kiss him.

  Cameron doesn’t laugh or make a joke this time. Instead he kisses me hard, his tongue against mine as he pushes me back on the sofa, my legs on either side of his hips. We’re both gasping, out of control like we’ve been waiting so long for this. Like we don’t want to stop. Like we never will.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  I listen to his heart, my head on his chest as we lie in his bed. I close my eyes against its steady beats. Cameron runs his fingers down my arm, stopping just above my cast and then making his way back up again. I don’t want to move from here.

  “Hey,” he whispers into my hair.

  “Don’t talk,” I say, but smile. “You’ll ruin it.”

  “Right.”

  I fix the sheet, covering us both up, and rest my face in the crook of his neck. He’s so warm, his body perfect against mine.

  “Savannah,” he says.

  “What?”

  “Thank you.”

  I laugh. “Uh . . . you’re welcome.”

  “Not for that. Although that was nice.” Cameron wraps me up in his arms and squeezes me. “I mean . . .” He pauses, and it’s adorably awkward. “Thank you for trusting me and everything. I wasn’t sure if you ever would.”

  There are butterflies in my stomach, and I wish I could just say what I want, but even now I can’t. I lift my head and look down at him.

  “I have to go home,” I say.

  His face falls. “Now?”

  I swallow hard. “Yeah. Right now.” I give him a quick peck and sit up—taking the sheet with me. I grab my clothes off the floor and get dressed. I toss the wrapper from the nightstand in the trash and watch Cameron move slowly from the bed.

  When he smiles at me, that cute, inviting smile, I have to turn away. If I let him look at me that way, he’ll try to convince me to stay. So I walk out and wait by the front door.

  * * *

  “I don’t see why you had to leave so fast,” Cameron says as he drives me home. “Running out on me—kind of harsh.” His bruised knuckles hold the steering wheel gingerly.

  “Because I don’t live at your house,” I say.

  “You can.”

  “Are you going to adopt me?”

  “I should.”

  I laugh. I can still smell his light scent on my skin, and I try to breathe it in. I crave it now. I want it. Leaning against the headrest, I watch him.

  “See,” he says.

  “What?”

  “You don’t want to leave me.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  He grins. “You may have been murmuring a few things when you didn’t realize.”

  My face blushes. I’m not exactly sure what he is talking about, but I know it’s entirely possible that I may have said something close to “I love you” at a point when I wasn’t thinking clearly.

  “Well,” I say, straightening up. “Things said in the heat of the moment don’t count.”

  “Who says?”

  “Me.”

  “You didn’t mean it?” he asks.

  “Nope.”

  He smiles. “You know I feel the same way you do, right?”

  “You didn’t mean it either?”

  He looks sideways at me, his brown eyes meeting mine. “You’re lucky I know you’re full of shit, otherwise that might have hurt my feelings.”

  But I see that I did hurt him. He turns back to the road with his jaw clenched, his eyebrows pulled together. We drive the blackened streets to my run-down neighborhood.

  I don’t want to hurt Cameron. Not ever. “Why do you still talk to me?” I ask. “After what you’ve seen, you can’t possibly still want to be in my life. I don’t even want to be in my life.”

  Cameron licks his lips and glances at me. “Because I love you.” He says it simply, like it’s just a fact. My eyes begin to water.

  And I don’t answer because I don’t know how. I don’t know how to explain how I feel about him. Don’t know the words. So when he turns back to the road, I lean over and kiss his cheek. I stay there, close to him, knowing that things have changed; there’s no going back. He’s too important to me. There’s time for him now.

  Cameron looks me over, and then, with his eyes on th
e road, he turns his head, letting me kiss his mouth as he tries to drive. His arms draw me closer until I’m nearly in his lap.

  “I’m sorry,” I say softly between his lips, using my good hand to hold his cheek. “I love you,” I whisper, because I do. So much. I can’t lose him, too.

  “I know you do,” he says, kissing me with each word. “You don’t have to say it because I know you do.”

  My tongue is in his mouth and I want him all over again, but he chuckles, moving me gently back. “You’re going to make me crash, Savannah,” he says. “Maybe we should just go back to my house.”

  I shift back into my seat, the panic fading. I have him. I don’t have to fight for Cameron because I already have him. “Another time,” I say. “I have to go home in case Kathy lets Evan call.”

  Cameron’s quiet for a long moment, and then, “You’re like completely obsessed with me now, aren’t you?”

  “Hardly.”

  “I love you,” he says, mocking my voice.

  “Shut up.”

  He reaches out his hand, and although I consider slapping it away, I slide my palm into his. “You didn’t need to tell me,” he says quietly.

  “I’ll remember that for next time.”

  “Although, it is nice to hear,” he says loudly, as if I interrupted him. “Especially when you’re all over me like that.”

  “You’re needy,” I say.

  “I just need you. And I’m going to steal you away from all of this and never bring you back.”

  He’s kidding, but I let myself imagine that it’s true—that we both escape together. I sit quietly as Cameron holds my hand, unable to say anything else.

  * * *

  Retha answers on the first ring. “It’s about time, bitch,” she says affectionately. “I heard that Patrick got the shit kicked out of him. Who do I owe the lap dance to?”

  “Cameron.”

  “No shit,” she says. “Huh. Well, your boyfriend busted him up pretty good. Heard he got a broken leg and some stitches. Patrick told the cops he got jumped outside the 7-Eleven, but he didn’t see who did it. It was in the paper this morning.” She sighs. “Either way, I owe Cameron that dance.”

  “I’m sure Travis would appreciate that.” I laugh. “How’s he holding up there?”

  “Great. And you know what, I don’t think we’ve fought once since we’ve been here. That’s got to be a record or something.”

  “I believe it is.” I lean back on my bed and run my fingers up and down my arm, remembering the way it felt when Cameron did it. Remembering everything. “So I did it,” I say to Retha, unable to stop the grin that’s hurting my cheeks.

  “It?” She sounds confused.

  “It.”

  Retha is quiet, and then I hear her take in a sharp breath. “You did it! Was it with him?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wow,” she says. “I’m impressed. I mean, I knew he wanted to, but damn, girl. I didn’t think he had a chance. You’re not easily had. Were you wearing The Shirt?”

  “No. I guess I don’t need it anymore.”

  “I guess you don’t,” she says. “And I’m guessing it was good?”

  I laugh, blushing. “Yeah, it was all kinds of good.”

  “I knew it.”

  “Now hurry home so we can go to 7-Eleven and talk about it in Travis’s car,” I say.

  “First thing on my to-do list,” she says. “But I don’t want to wait. Tell me everything now.”

  I laugh, and Retha gets back to being her old self, asking for every detail of Cameron’s anatomy and physiology. I don’t tell her—okay, maybe I hint, but it’s cool. It’s cool to have my best friend, even if she can’t be here with me now.

  She doesn’t ask about Evan, even though I know she’s hoping for an update. But it’s too painful right now. It’s too painful for both of us. I still can’t believe it’s real. I can’t believe he’s gone.

  * * *

  A week goes by. Then two. I call Kathy every day, but she still says it’s too soon for Evan to see me. She tells me he’s good though. Happy. It shouldn’t hurt to hear that, but it does. The fact that he doesn’t need me.

  But I still call, and Kathy promises that soon she’ll let me come by. Legally I have no rights to Evan—my father had been telling the truth; she had a good case for custody. Kathy’s not his mother, but she’s not my mother either. She’s better.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Your aunt seems reasonable,” Kendra says as I sit at the kitchen table on Thursday. “So maybe she’s just taking the advice of a well-meaning therapist. I’m sure she’ll let you see him soon.”

  Cameron and Marcel are picking up takeout, and Kendra is using the opportunity to ask about Evan. She’s been waiting for a while.

  I look at her, trying to see if she thinks my aunt is better for Evan than me. But I don’t see that kind of judgment in her eyes.

  “You’re a good person, Savannah,” she says softly. “I’m sure Kathy knows how much you love him.”

  And my heart aches because in all my life, no one has ever said that I’m good. I’ve been badass, I’ve been beautiful, and I’ve been a bitch. But I’ve never been good. I look down at the table.

  “I miss him,” I whisper as my face begins to tingle with the beginnings of a cry.

  “I know you do,” she says, brushing my hair back from my shoulder. “And you’ve been so brave. You really have.”

  Cameron is lucky to have had her his whole life. And I’m lucky because Kendra lets me stay at their house whenever I want. I want to every night, but I do it only on the weekends. I don’t want to be a burden.

  “How are things with your father?” she asks, taking a sip of her iced tea.

  “Okay.” Things are awful. After he slapped me, I refused to speak to him. Even when he gets drunk and yells my name from the living room, sometimes crying, I don’t answer him. I can’t. He gave Evan away. He just gave him away, and I’ll never forgive him.

  Kendra watches me for a moment, probably knowing that I’m lying, but she just nods. The front door opens and Cameron’s laugh travels in from the entryway. Kendra and I look at each other, and she smiles.

  “Hey,” Cameron says to me as he walks in the room.

  “Hi.”

  He sets a plastic bag with trays of food on the table and comes to put his hands on my shoulders.

  “What’d you get to eat?” I ask, looking up at Cameron. “And please don’t say Cantonese.”

  “Of course,” he says. “It’s your favorite.” He leans down and pecks my lips. “I’m just kidding. It’s spaghetti with extra meatballs.”

  “You guys need anything before we leave?” Kendra asks us, taking out two plates for us.

  “Nope,” Cameron says, pulling out a chair to sit next to me. “But I think you should ask Savannah to stay over. She always says no when I ask her.”

  I turn to glare at him, but he only smiles.

  “Honey,” Kendra says to me. “Please stay the night. I don’t like the idea of you being alone. Cameron says your father is never home.”

  For a second I want to be defensive. I want to be mad at Cameron for talking about me when I’m not around, but I know it’s because he cares. Not because he doesn’t.

  “I’ll stay tonight,” I say, but drop my eyes. I’m still embarrassed of where I came from.

  “I’m glad,” Kendra says. “I like when you’re here. It’s nice to have another girl around.”

  I thank her and watch as she leaves the room. When she’s gone, Cameron shifts in his chair, putting his elbows on the table.

  “Sorry,” he says from next to me.

  “It’s okay.”

  He grabs my chair and pulls it until it’s up against his. Cameron wraps his arms around me and puts his chin on my shoulder. I love when he does that. He always seems to know when I need it.

  “You really shouldn’t talk about me when I’m not here,” I say, mostly joking.

  “I can?
??t help that I worry about you. My mom worries too.”

  I lean my head away to look at him, raising my eyebrows. He’s telling the truth. I can see it in the softness of his brown eyes, the way he watches me.

  “You shouldn’t worry,” I say.

  He laughs. “Uh, yeah. I totally should.”

  “Stop.” My wrist still itches under my cast. I can’t even think about the mall without the fear of a panic attack.

  “I’ll try,” he says.

  “Great.”

  He waits a moment. “So you want to go watch bad movies and sleep in my room with me?” He bites playfully at my shoulder.

  I push him back, making him laugh. “And sure, let’s watch your stupid movies.”

  “Oh, now they’re stupid?”

  “Shut up.”

  “I love when you sleep in my room with me,” he says, leaning in again. Despite wanting to be tough, I kiss him.

  It should be weird that I sleep in his room, but his parents don’t mind. They don’t even ask us to leave the door open. Not that we have sex when they’re home or anything, but still . . . that amount of trust? It’s sort of weird and cool at the same time.

  So after his parents go out, and we watch a movie—we’re in his bed. He lies next to me, twisting my hair between his fingers as I stare at his ceiling.

  “Then what about August?” he asks. “Can we go then?”

  “No.”

  “But you’re not going to college.”

  “Hey,” I say, elbowing him. He chuckles, pulling me to him. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I’m not going either.”

  “Yeah,” I say, smiling. “But you’re sort of dumb, remember?”

  “Right. I forgot.”

  Cameron’s going to finish the semester with an A despite having missed ten days this quarter. He should have probably lost a letter grade for that, but Mr. Jimenez saw that he was trying. He ended up being a pretty awesome teacher.

  “Besides . . . I might take a class,” I say, a little self-consciously. For my career project, I’d researched how to become a special education teacher. Retha looked up nursing, and we both decided that if we ever went to college, that’s who we’d be. Of course, back then it was hypothetical. I had Evan.

  “Ah, I snagged myself a college girl,” Cameron says. “Fine. We’ll go between semesters. We’ll just drive. Stop whenever.”