Be warned: this scene contains some language and stronger than usual themes.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CPOV

"Morning," someone said to my side. I blinked and shut my locker. Grant leaned on the locker next to mine—Bex's.

"Hi," I said numbly. Did I sound kind of hollow? Because to me I sounded kind of hollow.

"How are you?" he asked. I shoved the books in my bag and started walking to class. Convincing Joe to drive to school later than usual meant that I had half the usual amount of time to get myself together which was the plan in aiding me to avoid confrontation after my abrupt departure.

"I'm fine."

Grant grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop in the middle of the traffic filled hallway. A kid bumped into my back and muttered a half-hearted apology. Grant looked around and grabbed the door to the nearest classroom and shoved me in. He leaned against the door, looking much like the protective and no-bullshit cousin he's always been. I sat on top of a desk.

"How are you?" he asked again.

I sighed. "I told you I'm fine."

"You do not look fine."

"I didn't sleep well."

"Don't you girls have that face stuff to make you look... normal."

I raised an eyebrow. "Face stuff? Normal?"

"You know what I meant." He had the decency to look embarrassed.

"It's called foundation" —Grant started clicking his fingers at me with a grin—"and I'm wearing some."

He leaned forward, peering at my face. If he was close enough I would have slapped him. "Back off, Grant."

He sighed this time. "I'm just worried about you, Cam."

"Well don't be. I can look after myself."

"Sure you can," he snorted.

"What's that supposed to me?" My voice rose and I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Did you not look in the mirror this morning? Because you look like shit. Did you forget what happened yesterday afternoon? Because I'm guessing that's exactly why you look like shit."

"Yeah, it is. But I need time to cope and deal with it okay? So. Back. Off." I was standing, my hands clenched at my sides.

Grant didn't even blink in my direction. "You're not dealing well, Cammie."

"I'm dealing the best way I can, Grant. I'm not going back on the meds. I won't."

"Why not? What's so bad about them?"

The meds weren't there to help me, they were there to control me. Every pill stopped my natural reactions from occurring. I was a hostage to them. I had it in me to get everything under control. I spent the second half of camp faking those pills. It's not the flushing them down the toilet without anyone noticing that was hard. It was the stopping. Because once I took them and felt the effect, I knew I'd need them. That I wouldn't want to get off them.

"I won't be that girl again. I'm a new person here, Grant." I met his gaze and fought back the guilt of seeing the hopeless look on his face that was there because of me. "And this new me is going to get better without the meds."

"You need the meds." Grant's voice was steel. Hard, unforgiving. "You're not getting better without them. Short-term, yes. Long-term, no."

"No."

The school bell rang for a second time. The sound of students chattering ceased, but we continued our stand-off.

"I'm going to class, Grant. Tardy's will only make things worse for me." It was a low blow, but I needed to get the hell out of here. Grant sighed, but moved away from the door and I headed towards my first class. When I reached the cross section in the halls, I turned back to check on Grant. It wasn't that hard of a decision to make. I should have felt guilty, I should have thought about the consequences, but I didn't care. I needed escape. I needed to leave.

So instead of turning right to my classroom, I turned left to the exit.

BREAK

I'm not sure how long it was until they found me. Sitting in the massive tree that sat past the backyard fence, I knew it would be eventually. What I hadn't counted on was it being Zach to find me.

"Cammie?"

I sighed, gripping the branch and looking down. Zach stared up at me from below, no judgement in his eyes.

"Are you coming down?"

"Not anytime soon if I get my way."

Zach chuckled. "Not even to talk to me?"

"You could come up here."

"Three's a crowd between you, me and that branch." I glanced at the space and sighed. Zach was right. There was no way he'd fit up here with me. Not entirely sure why, I started to climb down. Jumping from a branch, I didn't bother to stand when I landed, but rather flopped down to lean against its truck. Zach joined me.

"Grant's freaking out about you. So is Solomon."

"They don't need to."

Zach played with the ends of a twig. "They're not worrying because they need to. They're worrying because they love you."

"If they loved me they wouldn't make me—" I stopped.

We didn't talk for a while. We sat there under the tree, letting the breeze fill our silence. Zach reached over and grabbed my hand, rubbing circles with his thumb into my palm.

"You can trust me, Cammie. I know it must be scary for you, but I'm here."

Unwanted tears burned my eyes. "I don't want you to judge me or treat me differently. I can't. This is my do-over. I can't have the past influence what people think of me. I won't let it!" I burst into tears and Zach puts his arm around me, murmuring random words.

I sniffled. "I want to tell you, I want to trust you, I do. But I can't—"

"Cam, I wouldn't think of you any differently. I know you for who you are now. The present you. The past made you who you are now, but that doesn't mean you're the same person. You grow in life. It's natural."

I rubbed my hands on my jeans and moved away. Our faces were still close together and I could him. Only him. His green eyes made me want to talk, to trust him. But it wasn't just his green eyes, it was him. He'd been there for me when no one else had. He'd shown up at the times when I needed someone—like right now.

I nodded. "Okay. I'll tell you everything. But no questions until after I've finished talking, okay?"

Zach pretended to lock his lips and throw away the key, a gentle smile was all that was left behind.

CAMERON MORGAN

ONE YEAR AGO

DAD'S FUNERAL

I sobbed uncontrollably into my hands. Dad was dead. Gone. Non-existant. It wasn't possible. The man who was always strong, always there was no longer strong or here. He was dead and he was gone.

My hands curled around the photo I had kept on me at all times. It was taken at the circus. I was sitting on his shoulders, holding a giraffe toy that was almost the size of him. He won it at the strong man's challenge, making the ball go straight up that pole and letting the bell ring wildly.

"Cameron?" A man's voice asked.

I rubbed at my damp cheeks and looked up. I knew I had nothing to be ashamed of, crying at my dad's funeral, but I still didn't want my hurt on display for the world. I folded the picture gently and slipped it into my jacket's pocket.

The man was handsome, light brown hair and blue eyes. A slight tan and he was tall with a lean build. He was also unrecognisable.

"Yeah, I'm Cammie," I said, standing. Random associates of my father's had been introducing themselves to me all day and I had my role memorised. "Thanks for attending."

The guy smiled sadly, one of pity and unease. Reading people today had been too easy. There were never any emotional shields at funerals, but I wished there was. I didn't need to feel anyone else's agony. I had plenty of my own.

"You don't remember me, do you?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm sorry," I giggled humourlessly. "I think I've met the entire town today, so if I didn't know you well before there's no chance. How do you know my dad?"

The guy smiled—a real one this time. "My name's James. I used to live down your street."

"You're the Packers son, right?"

"Yeah, that's me."

I felt so stupid. "God, I am so sorry."

"Don't be. Nobody expects anything of you, today of all days, Cameron." James sat on the concrete seat and I followed. "I think everyone agrees with me when I say that we just want you and your family to get better. It takes time, but it'll happen."

"Did you... I mean, have you—" I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business."

"What is?"

I looked down at my hands. "It's just that you know exactly what to say. I can't help but wonder if you've lost someone too."

His smile was sad. "Everybody has lost someone. But I think that's my psychology classes kicking in." His joke, while pathetic, gave me the energy to fake a laugh.

"So you're going to be a psychologist?"

"Teacher, actually. But I want to teach psychology."

"I signed up for it next year, actually. I'll be a junior."

"Huh," he said, glancing up. A woman was approaching us with the same light brown hair and blue eyes. James's mother.

"Hello, Cameron," she said, diving straight in for a hug. James's worried gaze met my eyes over his mum's shoulder and I shook my head slightly. It's alright. Being bombarded for hugs by strangers was a part of the script. "I'm so sorry for everything, dear. Everyone loved your father and we'll all be willing to help out."

"Thank you," I said with no real emotion. I'd been hearing the same damn thing every day. "For that and for coming."

"I would like to make it to the wake, but sadly we have to go now." She reached out and grabbed James's arm. She had already started to back away, as if I were some skittish animal. "But I wish you all the best."

"Thank you."

James looked over his shoulder at me. "I'll see you around, Cameron."

"See you," I whispered.

TWO MONTHS LATER

DINNER AT THE MORGAN HOUSEHOLD

"Please, Cameron, be on your best behaviour tonight," Mum pleaded. "Margaret is a good friend of the family and I don't want it to be awkward."

I rolled my eyes. "Mum, chill. I know how to spike my drink without anyone noticing."

Her head turned so fast I thought it might snap off and she glared.

"I'm kidding." I held my hands up, palms facing her to surrender. Not really. I could easily spike my drink at school, but my mum's eyes were like a hawk. Not to mention the fact that there would be extra eyes. Margaret plus one.

When mum left the room, I sighed heavily and stared into the bathroom mirror. Dabbing on some more concealer under the eyes, you would never have guessed that I didn't sleep at night. Not even mum knew. If she knew then I'd be on medication and that would be an effective end to drinking.

The doorbell rang and I heard mum's fake joyful voice from down the hall. Chorus of 'how are you' and 'how much you have changed' were said. I waited until I was mentioned, then left.

"Cammie, please—Oh. You're here. I'd like to meet you to Margaret and her son, James."

My eyes widened in surprise at the sight of him standing in my door. "Hi James. Margaret." I nodded in each of their directions. Oh dear Lord please let this end soon.

"Dinner's almost ready so why don't we move into the kitchen?" Mum suggested and we migrated as told. Mum and Margaret entertained their own conversation, leaving James and I to have a rather pointless conversation. I don't know how we plummeted from a smooth conversation at the funeral to this awkward silence, but we did so in a fashion that would win us gold at the Olympics.

When dinner was served, I sat besides mum and Margaret and James sat directly across from us. With James directly across from me, it wasn't easy to avoid staring at him. But soon I realised it wasn't just me who was staring. I blushed furiously.

"So, Cammie, how is school?"

Mum elbowed me and I smiled politely. "It's ... been better," I decided on. I had perfect grades—there was no way I was gonna crash and burn any chance of leaving this hell hole—but my behaviour record was another story.

James said, "I heard that you and a girl named Courtney got into a fight, actually."

Mum's shoulders straightened and I glanced at him, trying to figure out what his game was with no avail. There was a mischievious twinkle in his eye as if he were daring me to say something, do something. I shoved some rice into my mouth and chewed. His foot, which was suddenly shoeless, rubbed up against my calf. That was not only flirting, but a total girls move.

"Courtney is always one to pick a fight, Margaret. You wouldn't believe the stories I've got to tell you about her."

Deciding to play along, I killed Mum's damage control. "Yeah, except this time she had all the more reason. It wasn't exactly a fight fuelled by boredom."

"What do you mean?" James asked.

"Courtney's ex-boyfriend, or boyfriend as she calls him, made a move on me. She didn't like that and I'm much better with my actions than my words." The corner of my mouth lifted up in a small smirk. Small enough that Mum wouldn't catch on anyway.

"It was self-defence in a way though," Mum said, voice strained. Her anger was obviously bubbling under the surface. "It's just that with Cammie's martial art skills it comes across that Cammie started the fight."

Margaret nodded her head in complete understanding.

"Doesn't Gallagher teach martial arts?" Margaret asked.

"Yep," I spoke up. "We've all been doing it since we were young. It's just that martial arts is my best class."

"I think Courtney's face is evidence of that." James smirked at me. What happened to the wanna-be psychology high school teacher?

"Do you do martial arts?" I asked.

"No, it's not really my thing."

"I could teach you if you would like?"

Margaret took the opening to dive into a story about some family friends and my moment of bad behaviour was over. Although by judging from Mum's knuckles which were strained white, my bragging had not gone unnoticed by some.

After the dishes were placed in the dishwasher, Mum and Margaret moved into the lounge room and I took the opportunity to escape onto the patio. Unravelling James's motives to his game had resulted in a small headache and their pointless chatter did not to help.

"Hiding?" James asked from behind me.

"Are you kidding?" I snorted. "After that little tennis match at the table my mother probably wants my head on a stick."

"Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all.

"So what happened to you, huh?"

"Sorry?"

I sat down on a small chair and James followed suit. "I meant, what happened to the guy at the cemetery who was full of wisdom and didn't seem like the kind to get their friends in trouble?"

"We're friends?"

I smiled wryly. "Do you rub your foot up every girls leg?"

"Not usually."

"Then we're friends." I leaned back into the seat, exhaling deeply. If James and his mother had left, I would already have had a shot to calm the nerves. I wasn't addicted to alcohol, but I could definitely see some of the pros to drinking it.

"If we're friends then I suppose it's only right I offer you some of this." From a pocket inside his jacket he pulled out a flask. I raised an eyebrow in his direction. He shrugged. "I know what my mum's like and if they're friends then they must be alike which means this is a necessity."

"You were thinking my mind," I said, taking the flask and sipping it. Cold liquid burned down my throat to sit in the pit of my stomach, lighting it on figure. But I didn't cough. I had so progressed from that stage of drinking.

We spent the rest of the evening talking and taking small sips until James and Margaret left. Mum was in such a good mood that she even forgot to growl at me for my display at dinner.

ONE WEEK LATER

GALLAGHER ACADEMY

When the end of school bell rang it still wasn't soon enough for school to be over. Shoving my books into my bag, I hoisted it over my shoulder and headed straight for Mum's office. Not taking any notice of my surroundings, I collapsed in my seat and changed the song my iPod was playing.

Someone coughed from besides me.

I glanced over and frowned. "What the hell are you doing here, college boy?" James laughed at me and I tugged my head phones out. "Stalking's illegal, you know?"

"Trust me I know."

"So what are you doing here?"

"Apparently our mother's are taking on charity cases." At my confused look, he elaborated. "My mum told your mum that I'm being difficult and thought she'd be the good person and give me a hand."

"Ah. So you're getting a teaching placement." I smiled at my next thought. "Does that mean you're Mr Packer now?"

He laughed. "I'm a teacher without all of the restrictions." He winked at me and suddenly my throat went dry. Was he flirting with me?

"What kind of restrictions are you talking about?"

"The dating kind."

At that moment, Mum opened the door to her office. She smiled at the sight of us talking, though I knew if she had any idea of what it was about she'd be furious. James wasn't a teacher, but he was older and he'd be in an official position. Do have anything with him would be... Well. It wouldn't be my mother's dream come true.

"I'm sorry, Cammie, but you'll have to head home without me tonight. I've still got a lot to do."

"That's cool, but everyone's probably already cleared out by now."

Mum frowned.

"I can drop you off home after, if you'd like?" James suggested.

Mum's face lit up like the fourth of freaking July. "It wouldn't be a hassle, would it?"

"Not at all."

"Well that's settled, why don't you come in?" James walked passed me but I stared straight ahead. "Cammie, just stay here, okay?"

"Okay."

Their meeting didn't take too long and when James stepped out he was alone. He gestured for me to follow him and I did so in silence. I wrung my hands together nervously, not entirely sure what was happening. James was gorgeous that's for sure. He could also be incredibly sincere and smart, but like I said before, totally inappropriate. But there was something tempting about that. The idea that I we couldn't be together and his flirting and the comment about no restrictions got to me. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted it.

So when James didn't take me home first, I didn't object.

"Where are we?"

"My place," he said, pulling into his driveway. It was a normal looking house, much like mine. On the outside it screamed normal suburban lifestyle. But I knew how appearances could be so deceiving. He gestured to a corner in his hallway, "You can just leave your bag there if you want" and I did.

I followed him into the kitchen, forcing my confidence to outshine my nervousness. James was not the first boy I had been with, but for some reason he was totally different. He filled two glasses of water and pushed one my way. I sipped out of it while he put everything away.

"So what exactly am I here for?"

James leaned across the kitchen island towards me. My breath hitched a little when his face was only a few inches away. "I was hoping to test out get acquainted with those restrictions I don't have."

I smiled coyly. "Be warned: you have to earn that acquaintance."

James laughed, pulling back a little. "Sharing my flask doesn't cut it?"

I shrugged. "Depends on what exactly you were hoping to cut."

"Come on. I want to show you something."

He led me into a dark room before flicking on a light to reveal an in-home cinema. It took me a moment to figure out this was a converted driveway. There was a U-shape lounge facing a blank wall with a half-rolled projector screen. "Projectors are better for cinemas than televisions," James said, pulling it down. On the side of the room sat a small kitchen with a cinema sized popcorn machine.

I laughed. "You must eat a lot of popcorn."

"Surprisingly, no. You want some?"

"Sure." I sat on the middle of the sofa. "So I'm guessing you got the placement?"

"Yeah. Your mum seems pretty cool, actually."

I snorted. "Yeah. To people she's not related to maybe. I'm her daughter and yet it's like she doesn't even understand me sometimes."

He plonked down beside me and turned the screen on. "All parents are like that," he simply said.

"Well my mother's worse."

"Yeah? How?"

Taking a shaky breath, I plunged into memories I hadn't spoken aloud. "Did you know that my mum has only spoken about my dad twice since he died? The first time was when she told me what happened and the second time was at his funeral. I get that it hurts and that it's hard, but pretending he didn't exist doesn't make it easier. We can't talk about anything now, but he is in every memory I have."

"Aren't you being a little dramatic?"

"My dad took me to the circus when I was younger. It is my best memory of us. I was young and thought that I was too old for the circus when Dad said that he wasn't. He taught me then to be carefree and live life. I tried talking to mum about it. I wanted her to remember the good stuff about him. The moment I said the word 'Dad' she snapped. She screamed and threw out all of his pictures. There are piles of boxes in our garage with his stuff in it. She couldn't have it in the house, but she can't get rid of it either."

"Oh," he said, finally understanding. "Hey," he said, his voice chirper. "Forget about it all. That's your mum's way of dealing. What's yours?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Before my dad died you would not have heard about me getting into a fight with some girl over a guy. I wouldn't have accepted an alcoholic drink from a guy who purposely tried to get me into trouble. And I certainly wouldn't be here with you."

"Rebellion. Always the most exciting and fun coping mechanism."

He put his arm over the back of the chair and played the movie. I didn't even focus on it really. My mind was too busy trying to distinguish between the two sides of James I had met.

And that's how things continued for a few weeks. James and I would hang out, nothing would happen, and we wouldn't talk about anything too heavy. It didn't even occur to me that he had helped with my ability to cope. But it hadn't escapes James's notice.

"So what trouble have you gotten into lately? I keep waiting for the name of the latest target, but I'm not hearing any."

I pressed X furiously on the controller and frowned. "What?" I was too busy trying to shoot the guy in front of me to notice James had started talking.

He repeated the question and I frowned. "Um, none actually. Your high maintenance has kind of kept me busy."

"Bullshit," he called.

I paused the game and turned on him. "Excuse me?"

"How much trouble have you actually gotten in at all?"

I shrugged, knowing that it was really nothing. I mostly drank only when mum was around to see and the incident with Courtney wasn't started by me, even though I had said otherwise. "Here and there. I don't want to go to jail you know."

"Bullshit," he repeated. When I gave him a sharp look, he said, "about the here and there, not the jail thing."

"So what the hell are you trying to imply? That you keep me around for my bad behaviour?"

James snorted. "Well it's not for what I'm not getting."

I flung my controller at him, hitting him in the shoulder. "Don't be such a perv. It's not like you told me you want to do anything."

"Haven't I though?"

"No."

James set the controllers onto the table and I got the sense that this was about to get serious. Or as serious as James could get. "Really? None of my hints have given you the impression that I want more?"

"Your hints? I'm assuming you're referring to your innuendos in which cause yes and no."

"Yes and no?"

I nodded, averting my eyes.

He rested his arm on the back of the chair and stared right at me. "Explain."

"Yes because they're innuendos and no because they're you. That's just how you always act so no I don't think any differently from usual."

James sighed and suddenly lunged forward to me. His mouth was soft, giving me the time to object, the time to move. He hesitated, pulling back slightly. I could feel his breath on my lips and I moved forward—throwing myself into him. His hand was splayed on my back, the other cupping my cheek. My own hairs were wound around his neck, tangling in his hair.

We pulled back, staring at each other, cheeks flushed.

"So, does that get it across to you?"

I smiled coyly. "You may have to repeat the message."

James didn't hassle me about my lack of bad behaviour afterwards. In fact, three months after we started 'dating' James wanted to take me to another party. That night was the horror of all nights. I hadn't attended a party with the intent of getting drunk for a while and the last party was a huge failure. I was trying desperately to forget the past week. James was being a serious dick. So even though I was a little rusty on the whole location thing, I was fairly certain drunks weren't meant to be on rooftops.

Especially the rooftop of Gallagher Academy.

"James," I hissed, tugging on his leather jacket. He turned to me, his eyes bright with excitement. "Seriously? This is going to end badly."

"Relax, Cammie. It's not breaking in when you have keys." He removed some dangling things from his pocket and I recognised them for my mother's set.

Anger stormed all over me. "Where the hell did you get that from?"

"Your Mum unknowingly donated to a good cause."

I groaned. "James, I really don't wanna do this." I hugged myself tighter, the night suddenly seemed scarier and a lot more dangerous.

"Don't be a kill joy."

"Well don't be an asshole."

He scoffed and I wacked his arm. "I'm damn serious. Lately, you've been nothing but an A-grade douche bag. What the hell changed?"

"Nothing. You coming or not?" When I didn't reply, he threw his arms up in the air and started climbing underneath the wire fence. James's friends had cut out a square big enough to get your shoulders through, but he still struggled with his wiggling, the ends snaring on his shirt. It would have been hilarious if I hadn't been so angry.

James jumped up, on the other side and grinned at me. "Last chance, Morgan. In or out?"

I eyed the grounds, knowing that security guards monitored the fences every twenty minutes or so and it was either now or sometime in the near future no doubt. I sighed and followed James's lead. The others had already entered the Academy through the back staff entrance. Staring at the hard planes of James's face, I decided to not tell him about the as equally accessible hidden stairway.

Sneaking as quietly as mice, we made it to the roof. Already there were a large group of students, the majority seniors. Music played from a radio and people sat together in groups, smoking, talking, and drinking. The other STD people talk about.

James led me to the other side of the group, plonking down on a pillow and pulling me into his lap. I sat wordlessly, staring at the large pill of white pills in the centre. I breathed in deep, focusing my whole body on remaining relaxed. I didn't need James to get even more pissed off. He was on a tight wire tonight for some reason.

"Hand it over," he said to the guy beside him. The guy grinned, grabbed one and popped it in. He stared at me, his eyes narrowing in concentration.

"You're the headmistress's daughter, right?"

"What of it?" I acted bored. Inside, I was screaming. What the hell was I doing here? On the rooftop of my school? Where I'm being recognised as the headmistress's daughter? I've gone insane. It's official.

I also need to leave.

Pronto.

I sighed heavily, flicked hair over my shoulder and turned to James. "I'm bored," I declared.

In response, he held up a smoke. I stared right back at him, dead in the eye. He's joking, right? There's no way I'm smoking anything from these guys, I thought. James shrugged. "Your entertainment," he said. I sighed again and stand up, walking away and ignoring him. I knew I should have told him I was leaving. The last time I walked away from him at a party he started on a guy because he thought he was about to "have his way with me". Nevermind that the guy's fiancé was right next to him.

But I was nervous, angry, and feeling pretty damn humiliated that I allowed myself to be peer pressured into this situation. I was an idiot with only myself to blame. Reaching the end of the roof I finally find some silence.

In the pit of my stomach sat a huge gigantic rock. At least it felt like a rock. But I knew what it really was. It was the weight of my facade. The words James said a few months back came to me. I wasn't a rebellious child. Yes, I did bad things to get my Mother's attention. Who wouldn't when you were being ignored? It wasn't like if she actually stopped seeing me I wouldn't exist anymore. I was her daughter. I had a body, a heart, and lunges that I would frequently use to get her attention.

I rubbed my face, not really caring about my smudged makeup. This all had to end. James, me, his drug problem, the alcohol. Everything was slowly spiralling out of control and I needed to step on the breaks before every aspect crashed in a head-on collision.

Determined, I turned back to the party. A few new people had gathered around James. A bundle of small, white pills nestled in a guy's hand. Crouched down to James's level, he tipped his hand over James's. More drugs.

I stood behind them, waiting patiently. Once this was all over, it was over. I would make my way home, confess everything about me and suffer the consequences.

"Hey, Cameron," one of the guys said, raising his glass at me. I nodded back and James finally looked up.

"Hey," he said, his brow rising in surprise. "What's happening?"

"Can we talk?" I asked. "I wanna start heading off."

He groaned. "We just got here—"

"I can walk home, you know. I walked almost every day from school to home before you came along," I snapped. "Can I just talk to you before you decide to kill yourself with drugs first?"

James slipped the drugs into his pocket, standing. Grabbing me by the arm, he hauled me off near our entrance. No one huddled around here. If you did you had first chance of being caught.

"What's wrong now?" he asked.

"I'm out."

"What?"

"I said I'm out. I've had enough of whatever shit you're getting into. You're right, I'm not rebellious. I don't like this breaking and entering, the stealing, the attitude. It's harder work than what it's worth."

James laughed, throwing his head back. "You're leaving? Just like that? Well, fantastic for you, Cameron!"

I flinched. My arms dangled by my sides as he started ranting on.

"Not all of us can just decide we've had enough of this life. Not all of us have the ability to pack up and move on. They won't forgive me, they never will." Mockingly he said, "I'm an adult. I should be responsible. But not you, Cameron." He leaned in close to my face, alcohol and something sour hitting my face. His eyes, wide like a deer in headlights, are bloodshot. He's high. "Not the fucking perfect Cammie Morgan!" He shouted.

I stepped forward, let my wrist fly and slapped him across the face. "You know very well that I'm not perfect," I seethed. "You should know better than anyone with everything I've told you!"

James looked surprise, the handprint on his cheek becoming more and more prominent as time passed. Finally, he took a step back, raising his arms up in surrender. "Fine. Whatever. I'll go back to my new friends now."

I laughed bitterly. "Your drugs? What's their name? Cocaine and ecstasy?"

"At least they're peaceful," he called out.

"Peaceful?" I scoffed. James stopped and faced me. "James," I lower my tone, "you're going to end up dead if you keep going this way. You can't take all of that together."

"Not tell me what to do," he growled. Shoving his hand into his pocket he smashes it into his open mouth. I gasped and ran over. A few pills spill from his hands, missing his mouth. He takes two big swallows and then opens his mouth with a loud "ah" like a kid at the dentist.

"You—You didn't—Did you take them all?" I reached around to his pocket and he shoved me back, wagging his finger at me back and forth.

"Nuh, uh, ah."

I stood there, contemplating. What the hell was I meant to do? I couldn't leave him here. He took God knows how many pills. As the small smiles spread slowly across his face, I asked a different question. "Did you even take any of those pills?"

Still smiling. "Why would I waste so many at once, sweetie?"

"You are a serious asshole, James Packer. If your life is so damn pathetic, what hell are you doing then? Don't come near me again."

There, I turned sharp on my heel and made my way home.

PRESENT DAY

"Then what happened?" Zach asked softly.

Using the sleeve of my jacket, I dabbed at my tear-streaked cheeks. "I went home, woke mum up and told her everything. I didn't hold anything back. Half-way through it though she got a phone call from Gallagher's housekeeper."

"The house keeper?"

"Yeah. Turns out, James did take them all."

Zach's brow rose. "All of them?"

"Apparently he was already dead when his friend found him on the rooftop. He had been there for at least an hour before ambulances arrived on scene." Zach stayed silent. Feeling the need to acknowledge the blanks I said, "That made me the last person he saw alive. And I called him an asshole and told him to stay away from me. I also implied that he should kill himself. If he hadn't actually taken them all then he did after I left, meaning that I actually drove him to commit suicide."

I broke down into tears again. Zach, letting me use his shoulder as a pillow, rubbed my back and let me cry. When I had calmed down he said, "None of this was your fault. You can't blame yourself for his decisions. Is that what the past week has been about? Are your mourning him?"

I shook my head, took deep breaths. "No. Afterwards mum sent me to a camp. I was forced to deal with everything except I didn't. I wasn't handling any of it well and they put me on medication. Mum... She didn't want me anymore so she sent me here to live with Grant. She turned up again and I didn't react well. She brought my counsellor and psychiatrist. She wanted me to go back on the meds."

"Are you back on the meds?"

I shook my head. "No. Mum... She hasn't visited or spoken to me since school started. She can't make that decision since she's no longer my legal guardian." Another deep breath. "I just haven't been handling her presence and everything she stirred back up too well."

Zach tucked me under his side. "It's alright, Cam. You don't have to explain anything anymore. I get it."

"Thank you," I whispered.

He squeezed my shoulder. "Always."

We sat like that until the sun went down and our stomach's growled.

Whoa. Whoa was that emotional overload! So now you all know the story behind James. I just wanted to put this chapter out there that way you all know in case I go on another unplanned break.

The first quarter of the year seriously sucked, but things are so much better for me now and I just wanted to say thank you for all your reviews! They're amazing. Also, I got a new laptop (half the reason was because my desktop broke and I had to hand it in to retrieve the documents) and everything's on the way!

Is this what you guys were expecting? I really hope it surprised you and met your expectations! Let me know in a review what you thought Hearing your guesses was seriously entertaining ;)

Thank you again and again!

Ellen.