A/N: I've been writing so much Camaya sadness. I might take a break after all this is said and done. Whew.


November 30, 2016

Maya would readily admit to anyone that the cello is her most prized possession, and that every stroke with her bow sometimes makes her want to cry. She wept once when she was fifteen, and she distinctly remembers it was when she exited the Youth Orchestra audition. She remembers there was a heavy weight bearing down on her just outside the audition room, where she fell to her knees, knowing that her choice of throwing her audition because of her disastrous freshman year sealed a fate she could not come back from. So, after her first performance with the Toronto Symphony, when everyone was cheering and paying her compliments as they exited the concert hall, and after she was left alone in the pit, she realizes her haunted fears of the impossibility of her music future has and always will be possible. She cries again.

Maya believes it's safe to say she's secured a comfortable position in the orchestra pit with the symphony. In fact, she's so secure in her position as first string cellist (as she explains to her non-musical friends) that Woody's becomes a casual position, so casual that Bossman Dan has to admit that keeping her on his wait staff roster is wishful thinking on his part. It only took five whole weeks for him to realize this, but Maya decides to play her last song on the last Friday of the fifth week, calling it her swan song to the crowd, just so everyone can remind him too.

Everything seems to fit in its place and 'coming up Maya' now. Though she wishes she could confirm this about her dating situation, or the cue of boys Zig insists she 'just try out'. "They aren't jeans, Zig. And I'm not test driving people," Maya would always counter. Though Maya entertains the idea, because Zig on his fifth pint is too annoying to ignore, and she makes idle chit chat that goes nowhere because Zig on his sixth pint tends to forget his surroundings.

She slips away easily from her current dilemma, leaving an unsuspecting frat boy mid-conversation, and finally makes it to Dan to pass him her last order bill. And just as she exhales and exits the kitchen for the last time, she's pushed backwards.

"Jill!" She pushes her off. "What's wrong with you?"

"Zig's got Cam and won't let go."

The swinging doors of the kitchen provide glimpses of the two boys sitting together, Zig talking animatedly, pointing to his drink, and Cam staring blankly at him, throwing glances towards the bar's exit.

"SHIT!" Maya tries to burst through the double doors, but is stopped again. "Jill, Zig cannot be around him right now."

Jill squeezes Maya's shoulder, pushing her back again, "Maya, Cam looks like he's handling himself."

Maya glares at her, "You don't know if he's handling himself at all, you don't know—"

"Besides, Zig spotted him leaving, maybe he was here the whole night. Now, Cam thinks you've left, also by Zig's persuasion, and he's staying. Aren't you a little bit curious?" Jill points to the booth directly behind Zig's, and she notices the divider that's solid, perfect for eavesdropping.

Maya shakes her head, "We can't. I won't. Jill, I'm not some prepubescent stalker."

Jill rolls her eyes as she forces Maya out an alternative exit from the kitchen, and sits her in the booth, though Maya puts up an admirable (though futile) attempt to escape. She underestimates how freakishly strong Jill can be, despite her rail thin frame, so she relents and stills in her grasp.

"So, Cam," she hears Zig's slow drawl, and she's certain he's tipping his glass forward, spilling some of its contents. "Thanks for not knocking me out this time."

"Don't mention it…really." Cam's voice is tense, and she wishes she could see through the wall separating their booths so she might intervene when he starts showing his tell-tale signs. "But, I do have to get out of here—"

"No, no, no. I mean, you didn't come here for the show right?" Zig is dastardly here. "You only came for drinks, right?" He continues to probe, and Maya has to admit her own curiosity now.

"Yeah, the guys wanted to—"

"They already left?" Zig is loud, knocking something over their table as he makes a big show out of searching for Cam's teammates. "Interesting, I only saw you tonight. Man! Too bad, I wanted to say 'hi' to John…or Jake or…"

"Josh?" Cam offers, and she can almost hear him say this through gritted teeth.

"Yup! That's the guy." Zig plops back into his seat. "Good ol' Johnny boy."

"Josh."

"Right."

"Look, I'm not really in the mood to talk about her right now."

"Who?"

"Don't act stupid."

"Seriously, who?" Maya can hear the slight amusement in Zig's voice.

Cam politely tells the waitress to take back the drink Zig orders him, then continues, his tone gaining more confidence to show his annoyance. "Listen, I'm really not in the mood, especially not for you."

"Hey," Zig raises his voice. He hardly uses that voice, and it even convinces Maya that he's sobering up some. "I'm—I'm trying here."

"Trying what?" Cam is exasperated.

"I'm trying, I'm trying—"

"I don't have time for this." Cam gets up, and Maya almost ducks under her table.

"I'm sorry!" Zig is louder, and Maya freezes. "I'm sorry that I'm apologizing in a crowded bar, and completely smashed. I'm sorry that I have to say sorry like this." He pauses before he continues, "The truth is, I'm too much of a coward to face you without all of this." He gestures awkwardly around him.

Cam is silent when he slowly returns to his seat.

"I'm sorry about what I said before, way before. About you know. I know that doesn't mean much now, especially after what happened, but I just wanted you to know that." She's not sure if Zig meant for her to hear this too, but she can't help but wonder if this was his plan all along, to make amends to both of them.

"You don't have to—"

"But, I do…because I never meant to hurt you or my friends. But, we're here now and you deserve it."

There's a long lull, where all Maya can hear is everyone else's conversation. She strains, but she knows they are sitting in silence. She looks to Jill for moment, before she shushes her to hear Cam.

"Thank you," she hears Cam finally respond.

Zig releases a heavy sigh, "And thanks for not knocking me out."

"I told you not to mention that again."

"Right," Zig guffaws, and they share a laugh. Maya gives Jill a wide-eyed grin, mouthing 'what is going on?'

"So," Zig starts nervously. "How have you been? I mean, you don't have to talk about—"

"To be honest, I don't know." Cam replies right away. "I was pretty fucked up for a while after I got home, but that's over. Mostly. I was doing well after graduation, and even when I started college, I was okay. But, being back here…it's been hard. There's a lot of pressure being on a competitive team again." Cam laughs, "It reminds me a lot of how I felt when I first came here."

She wonders if Zig's giving him a look, because Cam starts speaking rapidly. "No, no, not exactly how I felt when I first came here. It's always going to be hard, right?"

"Tell me about it." Zig is hesitant, but starts again, "No one knows, but my parents took out a second loan for me. Going to school is killing them, and it makes me want to drop out…I mean, I'm taking music…"

"You're not going to though," Cam states matter-of-factly. "You have to finish. You got this far, your parents got you this far…"

"Yeah, and you're going to make it too. I mean, you're making it already, and I'm not talking about you coming back here to play hockey and all that NHL stuff. I mean it's the NHL, who watches that crap anyways?" They laugh again.

Another lull fills the space between them, and Maya is acutely aware of her intrusion. Jill looks just as uncomfortable, but her hand is still holding Maya down.

"Why does high school feel like a lifetime ago?" Zig tries to smother a burp.

"Because we've been through it all. I mean, that's what it feels like for me."

"No, I know," Zig sighs. "But, we're still kickin' and I'd like to think we're better because of all that messed up stuff we went through. Man, if I knew you—"

"What," Cam starts at once, defensive. "If you knew about me, you'd throw a pity party?"

"If I knew," Zig ignored him. "I'd still want to kick your ass for embarrassing me in front of the whole school with that sucker punch."

Cam's scoff is delayed, but he laughs too, "Your skinny ass couldn't beat up anyone in high school."

"That's true," Zig admits, snickering. "But we could've been friends."

"You were the poor band geek, and I was the depressed jock kid." Cam isn't sarcastic here, but speaking frankly. "How do you figure that?"

"Hey, we still don't have much in common, but we're not trying to kill each other, and we're having a drink," Zig cheers' his drink with another. "Well, you're not drinking, which by the way is suspicious since you come in here, a bar, all the time. I mean, you never drink. Don't you guys come here for the sole purpose of getting completely shit-faced after your games? Whatever, I digress. We're having a drink, and hitting it off just fine. We could've been friends."

"You forgot the tiny detail of you trying to steal my girlfriend." Cam pauses, possibly for effect, and then laughs.

"I mean, to say," Zig ignores him again. "Somehow I knew this epic reunion wouldn't end in a brutal massacre. That counts for something, doesn't it?"

Cam shrugs.

"High school's over, and we've changed some, but we're still the same."

"I hope not. I hope we never go back to how we were." Cam deadpans.

"Man, the good parts of us haven't changed. Like, me finally spilling my guts out to you, which was a long time coming, something I knew I was capable of. Like, you forgiving me, when both of us know you didn't need to, but it's because you were always that guy. Like, you coming here for her to try—"

"I'm not trying anything," Cam persists, quietly.

She hears Zig's pint glass clink with the others again, and she's not sure why he's continuing to drink when the worst has come to pass. Zig only drinks excessively when he's either overly excited or overly nervous.

"You know, she couldn't face me for weeks, almost months, after you did what you did." Zig says. Oh there it is, Maya realizes. "She, uh, told Mike Dallas about what I said to you that day. She almost got him to finish what you started with me. Almost did…but, Maya, being Maya, stopped the whole thing."

Cam does not react, so Zig adds, "Come on. You wouldn't have let anyone push you to stay tonight, least of all for me, unless there was the chance that you'd find out how she's doing. Let's not play that game."

Cam clears his throat. "Maya...she wouldn't let that happen to you; she's too good."

"Yeah," Zig is serious again. "That's why it was worth fighting for her friendship back, even when she wanted nothing to do with me, even when she still chose you. Every time. Even after you left."

Maya jerks her arm out of Jill's grasp. She's hot and nervous. She strains to hear them again, because she can't hear Cam's response, if he even responded. The silence that creeps up once more is maddening. She can't stand it.

"Would you fight for her back?" Is the last question Maya hears Zig ask before she runs.

She runs out of the bar, and closes her eyes against the cool, crisp night air that chills her burning skin. Jill doesn't follow, and once Maya feels the temptation to go back and ask her what Cam had concluded with or even ask him herself, she starts running for the bus stop.


Zig has the alcohol tolerance of someone twice his size, and he's about six foot and forever. So, it's no surprise that he arrives at her doorstep with only a hint of delay in answering her questions, and an almost non-existent wobble to his gait. He also has a nervous habit of rubbing the back of his ears of which he does as he waits for Maya to usher him inside her apartment.

"Thank you for tonight," Maya tells him first. "You didn't have to do that..."

Zig rests his head against her door frame, rolling his eyes at her. "May, I know you have been waiting all this time for me to finally do something about what I did."

She mumbles, "That's not what I've been thinking all these-"

He raises his hand to stop her. "Hey, I've reached my quota for long, drawn out apologies. And that includes talking about and over-analyzing long, drawn out apologies."

"And here I was thinking that you only did things out of the goodness of your heart."

"That and I wasn't going to spend this whole year listening to you whine and mope."

Maya nods, her sights trained on anywhere but in his eyes. He dips low to level their vision. "What?" She mumbles.

"Why'd you leave?"

"I don't know, I couldn't breathe in there."

"Well, you didn't miss much. The guy is Fort Knox. Nothing would make him budge after the first time I brought you up."

He must notice her disappointment because he adds, "You do know that he's still completely, stupidly in love with you, right?"

She peers up at him, skeptical. "He didn't tell you that."

"Maya, I know."

"Bullshit."

He chuckles low, shaking his head. "You forget that I was there too."

She frowns, confused, folding her arms tighter over her front. He is not exasperated as he scratches his forehead in response, laughing again, possibly musing over something that just hits him.

"Back in homeroom, grade nine, Madame Jean-Aux's class. I knew before you even knew about him." Zig cracks up even more. "I won't forget the way he pretended to act all cool and casual about joining your little French group with Tristan, when I knew he had been staring at the same spot for the whole first week he'd joined the class, like the back of your head was the most fascinating thing in the world. Don't get me started on how contagious your laughter was; he'd be grinning like an idiot whenever he heard it. I caught myself doing the same thing one day. It was like I was staring at my own reflection when I noticed him noticing you."

"He can hardly stand thinking about those days now—"

"Maya," he starts, irritated this time. "He's not shitting anyone, he still looks at you that way."

She nods automatically, dejected. "I already know how he feels, Zig. It's just not what he wants anymore."

"You're the girl, Maya." He continues, shaking her shoulders. "You are the girl. If he doesn't come around sooner or later, then…"

"I know, I know. Thank you. Again." Maya gives him a small smile, which he seems to be satisfied with.

"God," Zig coughs uncomfortably. "You're killing me here. You promised a bed and a disgustingly greasy brinner over the phone."

"Brinner?"

"Breakfast at Dinner." He sighs tiredly.

"I did not, you drunkard."

"I'm about to pass out on top of you if you don't let me in."

Finally, Maya moves, gesturing for him to come in. "There's strudel on the kitchen table, loser."

She's lifted off the ground by his bone-crushing embrace, but before she can protest, he's already at her table. He looks as though he wants to either thank her or add another positive sentiment, but he stuffs his face with the pastry before he decides.