THE WRONG KIND OF TROUBLE

Chapter 14

What?

My mind yelled in shock. Cameron had just asked Mr. Wallace for permission to talk to me. All eyes were on me. One girl—one of the squealers from earlier—moaned in disbelief.

“I thought they broke up,” I heard a girl from Liz’s row whisper to the one in front of her.

My body sank, and all I could do was look down. I wanted Vecna to open the upside down right now and divide the floor in half. This is the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me right now.

Mr. Wallace let out another sigh. “We are in the middle of class, Cameron. You can talk to her after.” He turned back to Tim, who looked just as confused as I was.

Cameron shook his head in protest. “No, Mr. Wallace. I can’t. It has to be now.”

Mr. Wallace frowned. "Excuse me?" Wrinkles formed above his eyebrows. The murmurs were starting to rise, buzzing in my ears like bees. Mr. Wallace glanced at me, his eyes extremely annoyed.

“Do you want me to call the principal, Mr. Huggins? Does Mrs. Becky know you’re here?” the teacher croaked. Mrs. Becky was a Science instructor for the third years, the class that Cameron's supposed to be in right now.

Cameron grinned, his perfectly white teeth stabbing straight into my soul. “Come on, Mr. Wallace. It won’t take long. Ten minutes is all I need.”

“T—” our teacher started but exhaled, defeated. “Fine. Five minutes.”

He motioned for me to exit the class and accommodate Cameron’s request. My chest thumped.

I looked at Liz—my soul silently begging for help. If only Cameron and Mr. Wallace weren't cousins, I highly doubt this would be happening right now. Cameron would have gotten detention the moment he disrupted the class in the first place.

Cameron stood up straight with a strange smile on his face. I walked past a girl whose angry eyes followed me, lines forming between her eyebrows.

“Alright. Back to the equation,” I heard Mr. Wallace announce as I stepped through the doorway, catching up with Cameron. Goosebumps crawled up my skin. The hairs on my arms and nape stood like I was being hit with snowy chills.

I followed Cameron to the far corner of the hallway, straight ahead from our classroom. Then he turned left. We stopped by the staircase leading to the third floor where the third-year classes were. Right next to it was the stockroom—the place where old broken school equipment are dumped for stock.

We entered the stockroom, and before I could process anything, I realized Cameron had locked the door behind us. I looked around and saw piles of sports balls in boxes—soccer balls, basketballs, three footballs. Some had deflated. Behind me were stacks of old cheerleading uniforms.

Adjacent to the door were cleaning supplies: a mop with a cracked handle, a bucket with no handle, and a pile of rags. It was dusty and I could feel the inside of my nose started to itch. It was extremely hot too.

“Excuse me, what are you doing?” I asked. Anxiety mixed with fear pounded my heart. My insides were boiling, not from the room’s temperature, but from nerves.

Cameron stepped closer, arms open as if ready to embrace me. I instantly remembered what happened at the party.

“You stay away from me.” I took a step back.

“Relax. I’m not gonna hurt you,” Cameron said as he stepped even closer, gesturing to wrap me in his arms.

The moment I felt the heat of his embrace, my tension eased. But not for long. It got hot again, uncomfortably hot. I pushed against him, but his hold was tight.

A few seconds later, he finally let go. I stumbled back, putting more distance between us.

“What do you want? Mr. Wallace said five minutes,” I blurted out.

“Who cares?” he said bluntly.

“I do. You know I don’t like skipping classes.”

He smirked. “Right. You don’t.” He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

“What do you want?!” My voice rose, frustration creeping in. Sweat dripped down my neck. This heat wasn’t good for my baby at all.

“I’m breaking up with Jennifer.”

I fell silent. My eyes widened as my brain absorbed the words ringing in my ears.

“You’re what?” My jaw dropped. Cameron placed his hands on my shoulders. I tried to shrug them off, but he didn’t budge.

“I’m breaking up with Jennifer, and I’m getting back with you,” he announced. I could hear the enthusiasm in the tone of his voice.

I wasn't exactly sure what to feel. I was having mixed emotions. My head began to feel nauseous.

He kept going, though.

“I know I’ve been an ass. And I regret it. But my biggest regret was choosing Jennifer over you.”

The old image I used to daydream about returned so clearly that it almost felt real. It was a bright sunny day. Cameron was in his white polo sleeves, smiling at our little daughter while she shook her favorite rattle. I was wearing a soft blue satin dress, walking toward them with a homemade blueberry cake in my hands. Cameron would turn to me, give me a small kiss, and for a moment, everything felt perfect, as if a soft melody was playing somewhere in the background.

.

“Jennifer was a phase. I don’t love her. I love you. And I’m breaking up with her. Today,” he said firmly.

“Today?” I whispered, not realizing I’d said it out loud.

Then the bright daydream darkened. The sun disappeared behind a massive gray cloud. Cameron and my daughter began to disintegrate into thin air. A shriek echoed.

Jennifer appeared in the vision, but she was no longer beautiful. She had transformed into a monster. Her nails stretched into long, sharp claws as she seized what was left of my daughter and lifted her until their faces were level. A twisted, bewitched laughter poured out of her mouth. Then her jaw began to widen, opening unnaturally, as if she was preparing to devour my child.

“Well?”

My imagination snapped. Thank God it did—or I’d have watched my infant get eaten by that trashy hoe-bag.

My eyes snapped back to Cameron’s, his filled with hope as he waited for my answer.

But what was I supposed to say? It was tempting.

He was tempting.

His lips still looked soft.

What the hell am I doing? Why am I thinking about his lips right now?

Suddenly, the past came rushing back so painfully that it felt like a punch to the chest. The image of catching him half-naked with Jennifer burned behind my eyes, sharp and humiliating. My head throbbed hard enough to make me dizzy. This was not good for the baby.

I tried to speak, but nothing came out. My mind and heart felt like they were crashing into each other.

I still loved him.

But, I still hated him too. And Jennifer… I hated her most of all. Excitement, joy, fear, disgust. All of them were twisting inside me until I could barely breathe.

Yeah. Let us give this a shot, I thought.

Because the truth was cruel and simple. I still loved him. He was my first. The only problem was Jennifer. She had always wanted him. So did half the girls in Brentwood High. And then there was the baby. He was the real father.

I wanted to scream all of that. I wanted the words to pour out of me, raw and angry and honest. But nothing came. Only a shaky breath, too faint to mean anything.

And in that moment, my lips were sealed… with his.