Chapter Nine

{Zach}

After practically dragging me down the stairs, Cammie led me into the dining room where her mom was setting the table.

"Hey, Mom. Is it okay if Zach stays for dinner?" Cammie asked, grabbing the pot from the kitchen and placing it on the table.

Her mom gave her an appreciative grin, then answered, "Yes, of course. The more, the merrier."

I cleared my throat uncomfortably. "Thank you, Mrs. Morgan," I told her, trying my best to hold the eye contact despite feeling uneasy. The woman looked just like Cammie, only with dark hair instead of golden blonde, and she didn't look old enough to have a daughter who was a senior in high school. If I hadn't already known that Cammie was an only child, I might've guessed that Mrs. Morgan was her older sister or something. Although, she did have a piercing stare with eyes matching her daughter's that made her seem older and stricter, which didn't help with the uneasiness.

We all sat down and began eating when I noticed there was an empty seat at the table void of any kind of plating. "Will Mr. Morgan be joining us?" I asked, eyeing the space.

"No, Zach. He's in Phoenix tonight," Mrs. Morgan answered without further explanation, as if why he was there was common knowledge.

"On, like, a business trip or something?"

She chuckled. "No, he's a pilot. He and his crew are flying from Oregon to Arizona tonight. In fact," she started, pausing to check the watch on her wrist, "he should've landed about half an hour ago."

"So, he should be calling any minute," Cammie added, her mother's care-free tone absent from her own. "Because that's just as good as him being here, right?"

It didn't take a genius to see that she wasn't happy. Her last statement was dripping with sarcasm and her eyes narrowed with distaste as she spoke. She must've had a similar conversation with her mom about this before—hell, maybe they have it every time Mr. Morgan's gone. I can't say I blame Cammie for being upset, but her causing a scene and pouting was only making it more awkward for me considering I knew absolutely nothing about the situation. Silently, I continued eating with my eyes glued to my plate, afraid to look up and lock eyes with either of the Morgan women.

Mrs. Morgan sighed, and when she spoke, her tone was much softer than before. "He didn't ask to have his flight patterns altered, Cam. I know he wanted to be home as much as you wanted him to be," she said cautiously, trying to be more sensitive to Cam's feelings.

"I know. Sorry," Cammie apologized guiltily.

We continued to eat in silence before a phone rang a few minutes later. Mrs. Morgan looked down at the device in her hand and smiled. "It's your father," she explained, standing up from the table. Placing a kiss on Cammie's forehead, she teased, "You, kiddo, must be psychic. It was nice meeting you, Zach."

The room fell silent as Cammie's mom left to answer her call, the air thickening with tension.

"Cam, I'm—"

"I don't want to talk about it," she stated quickly, snatching up her plate and throwing it into the sink before exiting the room.

I followed her, finding her curled up in the corner of the living room couch.

"I didn't know your dad was a pilot," I said as I slumped down on the opposite end, giving her some much needed space.

She simply shrugged and mumbled, "Well, you and I don't really talk much."

I tried not to let her words sting as much as they did. "Yeah, but I've never heard any of our friends say anything about it either," I pried. Again, she shrugged, this time remaining silent. "Cammie, does anyone besides me know?"

"Sure. Lots of people know. The airlines, his crew, his passengers…"

I shot her a look that told her to cut the shit, and she sighed.

"No. None of our friends know," she answered quietly, sounding drained. "Except for Liz, but she doesn't count. She knows everything."

"Why haven't you told them?" I asked, perplexed by her confession. It wasn't like her to keep secrets from our group.

"I just really miss him," she stated despondently. "If I told people, then I'd have to talk about it all the time, and as you can see, I don't really like talking about it."

I nodded since that was the only response I could think of. I had no idea what to say—I had never been in this position with her before. Usually, she was all smiles and rainbows until I did something to piss her off, and even then she was still animated and cheerful (just not towards me). I'd never seen her so upset, so I had no clue what to do. Do I comfort her? Do I make a joke and try to make light of the situation? What if she doesn't like being cheered up? What if she just likes to let it all out and be done with it? If so, should I just sit here and wait for the storm to pass?

She turned to me and stared. I could see the wheels turning in her head, but what she was thinking was a mystery to me, like always. Just when I thought she wasn't going to say anything, she asked, "What's your favorite color?"

"What?" I was so confused by the complete random change in subject that I was pretty sure I misheard her. My favorite color? She had a habit of mentioning small details at the oddest times. First it was my preference of Coke over Pepsi right after our latest fight, and now it was my favorite color in the middle of her depression over her dad being gone for so long. Was this her way of coping with things? Asking dumb questions?

"Your favorite color," she repeated, amused by my confusion. "I just realized we don't really know anything about each other."

"You just told me your deepest secret, and you're wondering about my favorite color?" I asked in disbelief. Holy shit, this girl was mad crazy.

She giggled and said, "Do you want to share your deepest secret instead?"

I shook my head at her, but not in response to her question. Just at the absurdness of it all. "Blue," I finally answered. "Light blue. Not dark like the ocean, but more like the color of the sky."

She nodded, giving me a small smile. "That's a good one."

"What's yours?" I asked, suddenly realizing why she wanted to know in the first place. There was something exciting about getting to know her better, even if it was as juvenile as a favorite color.

"Green."

"Dark like emeralds or—"

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "A vibrant green. A livelier one. Kinda like your eyes."

I grinned. "Cammie, are you hitting on me?" I teased.

She raised her hands defensively and, with a smile, replied, "Just stating a fact."

"So, it's a fact that you like my eyes?" I mocked her, poking her in the ribs and causing her to laugh.

"Forget I said anything, you jerk," she said, sticking her tongue out at me.

"Hey, do you know how hard it is for me to get a compliment from you? I will gladly take it!" I exclaimed.

She rolled her eyes and giggled light-heartedly. With the teasing all done, we were again surrounded by silence.

"I kinda wanted to thank you," she said out of nowhere, once again throwing me for a loop with her random subject changes.

I raised my brow, silently asking why she would be thanking me.

"Before you showed up, I was pretty upset about my dad not coming home when he was supposed to," she explained, glancing down at her hands that she was wringing together. Shrugging awkwardly, she continued, "But you definitely cheered me up. So, thanks."

I smiled, feeling a small sense of satisfaction. It felt nice to be there for Cammie in a way I'd never been before—in a way that was usually only saved for Liz and the girls. A part of me was kicking myself for not settling our stupid feud years ago and allowing me to enjoy more moments like this.

But then the other part of me was warning myself to stay on guard. Sure, it'd be fucking fantastic if she and I actually came out of this arrangement as real friends, but it was all too easy to fall for Cammie. And then what would happen? I'd tell her I love her? Yeah, right. Like she could ever love me. No matter how nice I was from here on out, I will always be the asshole that tormented her throughout all of high school. I will always be the dumbass who made her feel like shit for being a loyal friend to Macey. I don't deserve a girl like her—sweet, caring, innocent, and so damn beautiful. And the thing I liked most about her is the number one reason why I didn't deserve her…

She was forgiving.

I don't think I ever even apologized for what I did, and yet, there she was looking at me like I was her hero and like the past never happened.

What's really fucked up is that had I known about her dad never being home and how much it bothered her before we kissed, I probably would've used it against her. I would've thrown it in her face any chance I got just to make sure she hated my fucking guts.

And she's still looking at me and smiling like she's relieved she has someone she can trust this with.

God, I was the shittiest person alive. I had never hated myself as much as I did then.

She could sense my discomfort. I could tell by the look on her face that she knew something was wrong. But she either knew me too well to say anything, or she didn't trust me to tell her the truth, and I prayed that it was the latter. If she didn't fully trust me, then that meant she would have a wall of her own up, protecting us both in the long run. God, I prayed that was the case.

"Um, do you want to watch a movie or something?" she asked, her voice growing quieter as she spoke. It was as if she could already see the answer written on my face before she even finished.

"Um, actually, I should be going. I told my mom I'd be home before dark," I lied. I glanced away, hoping I was just imagining the flash of hurt in her eyes.

"Oh," she said, and I didn't have to look at her to know I hadn't imagined it. "Yeah, I understand. Um, I'll walk you out." She was trying to act cool about it, like I was just another friend who had to leave early. But we both knew that wasn't the case. She opened up to me, and I was pushing her away. Just like I always did.

I followed her to the front of the house where she opened the door and waited for me to leave, avoiding my gaze the whole time.

She was just about the shut the door behind me when I snapped back around and, before I even knew what was happening, said, "Hey, Cammie?"

She stopped and looked up, searching my eyes for answers to questions she hadn't asked out loud.

I knew what I wanted to tell her—that tonight meant as much to me as it did to her, even if I didn't need the cheering up like she did. But I also knew I couldn't risk telling her that. It was better to stomp it down and pretend like it was never there.

So, instead, like the wimp I was, I told her, "See you at school."

She nodded, her mood deflated. "Yeah. See ya, Zach."

::*::*::*::

{Cammie}

I was such a fool.

I knew he started freaking out the moment I got sentimental and tried thanking him for being there for me. It was written all over his face how terrified he was. How could I blame him? We spent our entire relationship putting up walls and staying the hell away from each other that of course he was going to panic when I let my guard down a bit. It wasn't something he was used to, and Zach hated being in new territory where he had no control over the situation.

Wow, I felt like an idiot for thinking anything was going to change. I mean, when you spend three years blocking someone out and pushing them away, that distance doesn't just vanish overnight. We were still practically strangers because of the lengths we'd gone to in order to keep that distance alive and growing.

When he turned back before I closed the door, I thought maybe he was going to show a piece of himself in return, but I was stupid to believe he would trust me just because I foolishly trusted him. I mentally reprimanded myself for being so daft and for thinking for even a second that Zach and I could actually repair our relationship without ever talking about and apologizing—for assuming a kiss would just erase all our bad blood. Obviously, it was going to take more than that.

But what if even that couldn't fix this? What if our friendship was already damaged beyond repair?

Whew, for some reason, this chapter took me a lot longer to write than normal. Usually, I can get it done in a few hours or so once I actually sit down and start typing, but this one took me about six hours! Granted, I took breaks, but still. The things I do for my readers lol.

Okay, I have a few requests for you all! First off, let me know what you think of how the story is progressing so far and where you want it to go. I have a few ideas of my own, but hearing from you all wouldn't hurt haha. Obviously, they're going to have to figure out a way past this bump in the road and learn to trust each other before they can progress, so any ideas on that are welcome, as well as any ideas for once they've talked it out. Secondly, do you want this little tiff to be resolved in the next chapter or have it drag out a little longer? Thirdly, do you want to see more scenes with their friends (whether it be Cammie and the girls, Zach and the guys, Cammie with the guys and Zach with the girls, or them all together)? Like I said, I have an idea on where I see this going, but I have some time to kill in between where the story is at currently and where I want it to go.

Okay...long author's note lol. Sorry!

Anyways, thanks for reading and for all your supportive reviews! I didn't know if people even read the author's notes until you guys were commenting on things I said in my last one. Super cool! Thanks y'all! As always, stay awesome (: