For 3 days, Campbell Saunders pondered over what he had done on the school catwalk. Conflicted emotions ran through him like wild fire as he stared at the cast that wouldn't have been there if it weren't for his own stupidity.
Was it stupidity? He couldn't be sure. One thing he was sure of was that as he sat in the cafeteria surrounded by friends - real friends - he was happier. No doubt about it. A weight was lifted from his shoulders, yet at the same time, a chunk of his heart was torn with it. He missed hockey. Some part of him deep inside missed the sweet rush of the game and the slaps of his teammates' hands on his back.
But he didn't miss it as much as he had loathed it when he jumped off that catwalk. He knew what he was doing. He knew the consequences.
He also knew the benefits.
"What do you think, Cam?" a voice pulled him from his own thoughts.
"Hm?" he mumbled distractedly before realizing it was Tori who spoke to him.
"What do you think Maya should sing for karaoke tomorrow night?"
At the moment, Cam couldn't care less as to what Maya sung. But she was his girlfriend.
"Um, surprise me."
Tori rolled her eyes and Cam turned to Maya. She didn't seem pissed off at Cam's distracted attitude. Maybe he was always this vacant.
After a while, Maya frowned and furrowed her eyebrows.
"Cam? Are you okay?"
He was surprised at the question, but answered as calmly as he could.
"Fine. Why do you ask?"
"You seem..." Maya faltered and shook her head as if shaking off a thought.
Maya wasn't an idiot. He saw the knowing look on her face when she came to the hospital after his "accident". She knew something was up. Maybe she knew more than Campbell did, really.
Cam turned away, not wanting to let that particular conversation go any farther. He sunk back in to his thoughts, tuning out the others conversations.
He thought of home. The thought almost made him sick, he missed it so much.
What would his family think of him if they knew how he really got his broken arm?
What would they do if they knew the sense of relief Cam felt when he slit his palm on his ice skate?
A sudden urge flooded through him.
That same urge he felt when the press and the reporters attacked him in the locker room. He wanted to hurt. He wanted to turn his mental turmoil to something physical, make it go away.
Make it go away.
"Cam," said Maya firmly.
He hadn't realized he'd been tapping his foot and rubbing his sweaty hands on his jeans. He looked around, slowly coming back to reality.
Maya. Tori. Tristan. Zig.
All sitting there around him and it wasn't enough. Just wasn't enough.
He took a shuddering breath before pushing his chair away.
"I- I have to go," he said quickly before turning to leave the cafeteria, feeling eyes on his back as he walked.
His steps echoed through the empty hallway and he crashed in to the boys washroom, pacing and turning and digging his nails in to his good arm.
Digging his nails harder and harder until it hurt, until it blocked out the thoughts of his sister. Blocked out his Mother's look of disgust and outrage and sadness.
He let go and stared at the 4 crescent moon shapes he'd left on his skin. Deep and red and throbbing.
He closed his eyes and tried to stop the constricting of his chest as the panic began to overwhelm him.
A part of him wished Bianca or someone would come in to the bathroom again.
Tell him it would be okay.
Tell him not to hurt himself like he so badly wanted to do.
He wanted Maya. He wanted to hold her. To tell her everything he felt like an explosion of his inner thoughts that would leave his head forever.
But he wouldn't do that. He wouldn't scare her away.
His one little tie to sanity. His good luck charm. Happiness.
He got up from the bathroom floor where he had ended up, sitting curled against the wall and took a few deep breaths before leaving the room, making sure to cover the marks of his own fingernails on his arm.
