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Cam looks satisfied that I’m sticking up for him, but I can tell he still wants to break something. I curse myself for this idea and motion that he should hang up. Lips thinned, he shakes his head. Wonderful. “You seem rather defensive of him.” I hear the subtext, the not-so-subtle invitation to shove Cam off a cliff and reassure Michael I’ve only got eyes for him. For some reason it really irritates me. “I suppose I am. He’s my . . . friend.” Cam and I stare at each other with a weird, unspoken tension building between us, while Michael breathes loudly on the other end of the phone. “Really? You’d befriend a man who got a teenage girl pregnant and denies any responsibility whatsoever?” My stomach drops. My mouth hangs open. I stare at Cam in horror. Cam abruptly hits the “End” but
- Writer
