The second plane ride in twenty-four hours, and I'm planted right next to Bex. The one person guaranteed to make my flight an awkward one.
Mind you, she doesn't seem to mind as much as me. While everyone else has gathered around a table to play poker, I have to make sure Bex isn't a disruption, or puts a knife through the pilot's heart and aims us towards the ground, or something. She has her eye mask on and I'm almost certain she's asleep, seeing as her chest is rising and falling peacefully and steadily.
We've barely said two words to each other since she tried to strangle me earlier.
The minute we returned from the sodden hut, Bex, along with everyone else, was ushered quickly and quietly into a waiting jet. How it got there, I have absolutely no idea. Although I can assume that one of the Cincta's private, billionaire sponsors provided it.
As I stand up from the surprisingly-comfortable leather seat to stretch my legs and get myself a drink, I hear Bex ask, "Can I borrow the phone?"
Unsure what to say, I nod. She's spent a lot of time talking to an unknown stranger on any communication device she can, whilst also pointedly ignoring Grant and myself.
While I pour lemonade from the can into a plastic cup, I watch her curiously, noticing that she looks distinctly disgruntled. Although, most of us do, what, with the lack of sleep and running from the baddies.
Her usually luscious hair now hangs limply over her shoulders, not completely covering the grubby, blue shirt she's borrowing from Areva. But more than anything else, her caramel eyes are droopy and relatively flat, give off the impression that she's more than just physically tired.
Carrying two glasses, I approach Bex quietly. She doesn't seem to notice me, and continues whispering to whoever is on the other end of the black, cordless phone.
"…fine. Just grab everything you can and meet me there. Don't be late, or else we will have moved on."
Being a girl, let alone being a spy, my senses perk up. Who's Bex meeting? And where? Does she honestly think we're just going to let her go?
"Bloody hell, no! Don't ask, alright? Just trust me. I've got to go. Bye."
Now Bex has definitely got my attention, and I'll be sure to ask her what the deal is.
She slams down the phone and almost jumps when she sees me leaning against the cupboard behind her.
"Has anyone ever told you it's rude to eavesdrop?" she practically hisses at me, tucking her hair behind her ears and shooting me a dirty look.
Frowning, I shove one of the cups I'm carrying towards her. "I think I'm entitled to know who you're calling."
"You're not entitled to know anything, you little liar!"
I barely restrain myself from flinching. Her tone is so harsh and hateful.
"Excuse me?"
"I think you heard me," she retorts, ignoring the drink and spinning on her heel. I watch her storm off back to our seats and slump into the one beside the window.
Outside, all there is to see is darkness. We're probably over some ocean somewhere, so there aren't any lights visible below, and it's still night, although the sun is sure to rise soon.
After following her back to our seat, I slam the cups down onto a nearby table, not caring if turbulence spills them.
"If you've got a problem, spit it out!" I decide I don't want to be too soft with Bex. If she can't understand why I did everything I did, then she can't be much of a friend.
Her dark eyes flash dangerously up at me as I stand over her, my hands on my hips and my expression stony. "A problem? You're so… so… ugh!" she shrieks, getting to her feet again.
Over my shoulder, I can tell everyone playing poker is listening to our conversation, even though they appear to be intently involved in the game.
"So, what?" I ask, with my blue eyes narrowed angrily.
She laughs derisively. "So… stupid! You think after everything you've said, after everything you've done, that I'm just going to forgive you? That I'm just going to spit out my 'problem' and everything will be okay? Well, I've got something to tell you, Cameron – if that even is your real name! – It's not okay! Nothing is okay! You've made my life hell!"
Bex's words sting, especially as I remember how close we used to be just a few years back, but I don't show her how much they hurt. Instead, I cry back, "You don't get it, do you? I did it all for you! You, your boyfriend, Liz, her fiancée, and Zach!"
Now the tears are threatening to appear in both of our eyes as she replies with a sharp, "How do I know you're not lying?"
I soften slightly. "You don't. You never will. But I thought you, of all people, would be by my side, no matter what. I need you, Bex. You're my best friend."
Her eyelids flicker. "I was."
That, of everything anyone has ever, ever said to me, cuts the deepest. And perhaps that's why I do the shameful thing of storming off to the toilet, and barricade myself.
Slumped against the wall, I refuse to cry. I hate crying but, most of all, I hate people seeing me cry. To me, it's like bearing your soul – your weak side – to the world. And, in my life, that is such a dangerous thing to do. If someone knows your weaknesses, they have absolute power over you.
I don't return to my seat, not even when the pilot asks us to clip on our seatbelts due to turbulence. I can't stand the sight of Bex right now. She doesn't get it, and I thought she would.
Once my little pity-party is over, I stand up from the floor and splash my face with some freezing cold water. It helps me to regain my composure. I'm about to push open the toilet door, when someone else knocks from the other side.
"Cammie, can I come in?" Chris asks quietly.
With a deep breath, I pull open the door and come face-to-face with my favourite person in the world right now.
"Hey," I whisper, not really meaning to be so soft.
He looks at me, concern etched all over his face. "Are you okay?"
"Just peachy."
Frowning, he steps into the tiny cubicle and shuts the door behind himself, causing the both of us to squish together. "You don't have to lie."
"I'm serious, Chris, I'm fine. That was just a stupid lapse of self-control. I'm learning to bottle it up," I reply, a faint smile on my lips.
Again, he frowns down at me. "Squishing your emotions down doesn't make them go away."
"Whatever."
"Come and sit down."
With a resigned sigh, I say, "Okay…"
Chris takes my cold hand in his own comforting, warm one and leads me back out of the cramped space. "Go talk to her," he whispers before shoving me gently towards where Bex sits with her head in her hands.
I walk slowly towards her. "I'm sorry," I say quietly.
She reacts immediately. Her head jerks upwards and her body stiffens. With wide eyes, she replies, "I—I'm… sorry, too…"
And I, of all people, know that she means it. After all, Rebecca Baxter doesn't apologise.
Slipping into my seat – the one beside hers – I say, "I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt anyone. I was doing what I thought best."
After a slight pause, Bex chokes out, "But why- what was that with the Director?"
My hands close into fists at the thought of him. "He… he was nothing. Nothing to me. He was just another Circle agent."
With a gentle nod, she runs a hand through her matted hair and sighs. Leaning back in the seat, she tells me, "I don't trust you. I'm not sure if I ever will, but I can see why you did it all. That doesn't mean that I forgive you, either. You… you don't understand how it felt. We… we might never get back to where we used to be, but this is a start. You aren't my friend, we're just acquaintances."
My eyes closed, I swallow painfully and nod in recognition of her words. "Okay …"
As much as I want everything to be okay, I know it can't. Nothing this serious can be fixed with some tears, hugs, and within a matter of minutes, but I know we're on our way to recovery. And all I can do is hope that everything turns out alright.
Holy, crapamole.
I can't say how sorry I am. Although I do have a life, one month of not updating is kinda mean. My younger sister even got mad at me [but that's no surprise]
Oh, and just in response to a review : This story is a sequel. If you don't get what's going on, please read 'Traitor' :] Thanks!
Just one more apology to mention: Sorry that after almost a month of no updates, this chapter is pretty much a filler. But I honestly have half the next chapter done and dusted, so the second that is finished, I'm sending it off to Moe [XxXMoeGanXxX] - my awesome beta - to, well, beta it for me.
Love you guys in an extremely non-creepy way, and would love you even more if you reviewed all your frustrations/hates/likes/loves/things you want to see!
~Jen
[Oh, and there's a poll on my profile to see what you'd like to happen in this story, so check it out pretty please?]