Unforeseen Echoes: A Love Tested by Secrets and Second Chances

Chapter 7

Walking around my flat as I used to in my old bedroom at home. I could hear little, insignificant noises coming from the other apartments even with the TV off and my flat quiet. I didn't want to ruin tonight's wonderful mood, so I concentrated on those noises rather than letting my thoughts stray. Apart from the whole running into Cam scenario, the past two days had been fantastic. Everything was going well.

It wasn't until I halted behind my couch that I realised what I was doing.

I turned to look down and saw that my left wrist was encircled by my fingers, and my shirt sleeve had been pushed up. I raised each finger carefully and slowly, one by one. The bracelet was pressing against my skin, leaving subtle pink indentations. I have only removed the bracelet at night and during a shower for the past five years. Those indentations would most likely stay in place.

similar to the uneven scar that the bracelet covered.

I took my hand off entirely. A darker pink stretch of two inches cut across the vein in the middle of my wrist. After the initial photo went throughout the high school, I threw the picture frame, breaking glass and causing a serious cut.

I wasn't kidding around when I made the cut; it had been the lowest period of my life. Had the maid not heard the glass breaking, my right wrist would have suffered a similar, severe cut.

The photo had been of me and my closest buddy—the same friend who had been among the first to look away and mutter derogatory remarks like "liar" and "whore."

That was when I wanted it to end. Just check out, because nothing could have been worse for me at that time in my life than what had happened, what my parents had agreed to, and the consequences that followed. My life had completely broken apart into before and after in a couple of months. And when the entire school sided with Blaine, I was unable to envision a viable outcome.

Right now? I stared at the scar, the after seeming never-ending, while shame burned like a low fire in my belly. Checking out was really letting them all win, and suicide was never the solution. Since going to therapy had never been a possibility, I had to learn the lesson on my own. My parents would have preferred to have their legs amputated rather than go through the humiliation of having a daughter who had attempted suicide and required counselling. To ensure the silence of my afternoon hospital run, more money had been exchanged.

It seems like my parents accepted that their daughter was a w***e who lied.

However, I detested looking at the outward manifestation of my weakness and would be extremely embarrassed if others ever saw it.

Cam's deep, sudden laughter caught my attention from across the corridor. I turned my head to face the kitchen. The clock on the stove indicated it was almost one in the morning.

I pulled down my sleeve.

"Is it not possible for you to skip it on Friday night?" a woman's voice, somewhat muffled by the wall, inquired.

I heard Cam reply, "You know I can't, sweetheart," after a brief silence. Perhaps the next time.

Dearest? Whoa! Their footsteps echoed off the apartment building's railing and struck the stairwell.

I dashed past the couch and headed for the window. All I had to do was wait because my apartment was at the end, with a view of the parking lot. Then there they were, a girl and a shirtless Cam.

A tall, voluptuous brunette donning a stylish denim skirt. They were walking across the parking lot, and that was all I could see out of the window. Before Cam could stop her, the girl staggered and then steadied herself. They came to a stop behind a vehicle in a dark colour. Even though I was totally infatuated with them, I couldn't stop watching.

After saying something, Cam laughed as the female gave him a playful shove to the shoulder. They hugged for a second before he moved away, waving briefly at her before heading back towards the apartment complex. He peered up towards our floor halfway back, and I recoiled like a complete moron. He was unable to see me. Without any lights on in my flat, there was no way.

I chuckled to myself and then fell silent at hearing a door close behind me in the hallway.

A wave of relief washed over me, relieving the intermittent tightness in my muscles. It was nice to see him with another girl. confirmed beyond doubt that Cam was a nice, innocent flirt who enjoyed giving cookies to attractive women and who had a tortoise named Raphael as a pet. That was excellent. That was manageable. I was itchy and antsy from what Olivia and Miller were suggesting, so I could take that.

I could see Cam and I becoming buddies. It was fantastic to have more pals like previously, so I was okay with that.

But for a very little period, when I crawled into bed and lay awake, staring at the ceiling, I pondered what it would have been like if Cam had shown that kind of interest in me. To be anticipating anything of that nature. to get aroused and giddy every time he glanced at me or our hands unintentionally came into contact. I pondered what it would be like to be so interested in any guy, or even just him. to eagerly anticipate going on dates, sharing first kisses, and everything that followed. It must be pleasant. It would resemble earlier.

Prior to Blaine Fitzgerald stealing all of that.

As storm clouds moved in on Thursday morning, it appeared that the day would be wet and muddy on campus. Fortunately, I only had two classes to plod through, so I pulled on a hoodie and threw it over my top before leaving. I considered taking off my shorts and floppy flops, but ultimately decided I was too lazy to make the effort.

I sneaked out of my apartment and made it to the stairway before Cam's apartment door flew open and a guy emerged, pulling a shirt down over his head. I texted Miller to ask if he wanted me to grab any coffee before I went to art class. As his shoulder-length blond head showed through, I recognised him as Cam's roommate—the guy with the tortoise.

His tan face lit up with a broad smile that revealed a row of dazzlingly white teeth as soon as our eyes met. "Hey!" I've previously seen you.

I quickly looked away from him. He had left the door ajar. "You are the tortoise guy, huh?"

His face twisted in confusion as his sandals scuffed across the pavement. "The tortoise guy? Yes, exactly. His brown eyes were crinkled as he laughed. "I assume you saw me with Raphael?"

I gave a nod. "And I believe you went by the name Señor Fucktard."

He came up the stairs with me, laughing loudly again. "My drinking name is that." Most of the time, folks call me Ollie.

"Compared to Señor Fucktard, that sounds much better." As we came around the fourth story landing, I grinned. "I am—"

"Emily?" He smiled toothily at the widening of my eyes. "I heard your name from Cam."

Yes. Thus... Well, you're going to—

"Hey jerk, you forgot to close the door!" A moment after Cam's voice echoed loudly down the stairwell, he materialised at the top, sporting the black baseball cap. He saw us, flashed a goofy smile, and ran down the stairs. What are you doing with my girl, anyway?

My dear? How come? I nearly fell on my feet.

"I was describing to her my dual monikers."

"Oh, that's right." My other flip flop got caught in the back of Cam's when he lowered his arm over mine. He pulled me to his side as his arm became tighter. "Whoa, my love, I nearly lost you there."

"Observe you." Ollie leaped down the staircase. "The girl is tripping over her own feet."

With a chuckle, Cam extended his free hand and turned the cap back. "I'm powerless to stop myself. It's my alluring magnetism.

Ollie countered, "Or it could be your smell." "Maybe I missed the shower this morning."

He gave a mocking cry of horror. "Emily, do I smell bad?"

"You smell amazing," I muttered as my face started to get hot. Still, it was the reality. Fresh linen, a hint of fragrance, and something more that was probably only him made up his beautiful scent. "You don't smell bad, really."

Cam kept his eyes on me for much too long. "Going to class?"

His arm remained around my shoulders as we descended the stairs, and the entire side of my body tingled as though it had gone asleep. About it, he was very... nonchalant. As if it were unimportant to him, which it most likely wasn't. Though to me, it was... I recalled how he and the girl had hugged the previous night.

Words were absent.

"Emily?" Cam became quieter.

As I released myself, I noticed Ollie's smile growing. I needed some distance, so I started down the steps. Yes, I'm going to the art. How are the rest of you?

Cam caught up to me on the third floor with ease. "We're having breakfast outside. You ought to come along and skip.

"I believe I've missed enough this week."

"Well, I'm skipping, but Cam's a good boy—he has class this afternoon," Ollie declared.

"You're a bad boy, too?" I enquired.

Ollie had a charming smile. "Well, I'm a real bad boy."

Cam gave his pal a quick glance. Indeed, as in poor at maths, spelling, English, tidying up after yourself, interacting with others, and I could go on.

"However, I excel at the important things."

"And just what are those items?" As we left the building, Cam questioned. Outside, there was a slight hint of moisture in the air, and the clouds appeared swollen with water.

Ollie sprinted ahead of us, disregarding the red truck that was attempting to reverse, then turned to face us as he walked backward. Showing off a hand that had turned tanned, he began to check off his fingers. "Socialising, drinking, snowboarding, and soccer—do you still play that sport, Cam? Football?”

Cam's comfortable smile vanished from his face. "Yes, asshole, I do remember it."

Ollie simply chuckled and pivoted, moving in the direction of the silver truck's parking spot. Curious, I looked up at Cam. With his eyes like pieces of ice and his jaw fixed, he looked straight ahead. "See you around, Emily," he muttered, shoving his hands into his jeans without turning to face me.

I swear the temperature fell to match the abrupt chill in Cam's demeanour as he joined Ollie at his truck. Ollie had touched on a sensitive subject, and Cam hadn't felt like going into further detail. It didn't take a genius or someone with excessive intuition to figure things out.

I ran to my car and jumped in, shivering. A large, fat raindrop splattered against the windscreen just in time. I looked over as I started to back away, my eyes falling on them. Standing beside the truck bed, Ollie was grinning while Cam had the same detached, inflexible look on his face while he talked. He wasn't pleased with what he was telling his pal.

I was not sure how I let Cam to convince me into not taking two cars during class and instead letting him drive, but Saturday night, the night of our assignment, I found myself getting into the enormous silver truck shortly before twilight. Since Friday night, when Miller began pestering me about the party he and Olivia were attending, my stomach had been in knots. I wanted to go since everything had been so nice, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. In addition, I didn't know the location of the house, he had started messaging late, and it had started to storm again.

And suddenly I felt as uneasy as a mouse among a bunch of ravenous cats in a room. I had never been in a car with a guy before, as ridiculous as this was. Man, that sounded so lame even to acknowledge that to myself. Take that small secret and let it reach my deep degree of pitiful.

Glancing at me, Cam jammed the keys into the ignition. Twisted backward, the baseball cap was back on. His eyes shone a vivid blue under thick lashes. "Are you ready, steady?"