Camden

When I was in the sixth grade, I came down with a nasty strain of the flu. I couldn't function for an entire forty-eight hours. My head pounded within my eardrums, my stomach spun in painfully nauseous circles. My muscles ached and my skin felt like a thousand tiny needles were constantly threading their way through my pores.

I remember lying in bed, laying perfectly still, thinking that if I could just freeze every single muscle, that maybe I could also freeze away the pain.

That's how I feel right now. Like if I just stay completely still, maybe I won't hurt as much. Maybe my heart won't feel like it's being slammed along the metal wall of a cheese grater. Maybe my lungs wouldn't ache with every breath of air I force into them. Maybe I wouldn't miss the smell of Kenzie's shampoo when she undoes one of her tightly wound braids.

I think I'd take a thousand flus to the feeling I have right now. At least there's the ever lingering glory of knowing it will only last a day or maybe a few. There's a light at the end of a tunnel when it comes to a virus. But a broken heart? I don't see an end in sight.

I can't see much of anything. The subtle light peeking behind the edges of my curtains tells me it's probably morning. I watched the subtle glow work its way brighter and brighter within that tiny sliver of space between the curtain and the window. It appears to be at full strength now, making me wonder just how far into the morning we actually are.

Not that it matters. It's just another day. A first without her. One of many.

I've battled loss before. I've walked this treacherous bridge. The ache fucking sucks. The lack of control over it sucks even more.

Two strong knocks sound on my bedroom door, pulling my mind from its dampened pit. At first, my heart leaps from my chest, bouncing in overdrive to get a glimpse of those perfect brown eyes I've been dreaming of all night. But the force of those knocks is far different from the delicate echo of Kenzie's. So, instead of making any movement to open my door or yell for my uncle to come in, I stay laying in silence. If I don't move or speak, he'll leave me to my drowning misery.

When the sound of my door opening echoes across the room, I let out a sigh. So much for withering away in solitude.

"We need to talk," Jared's voice comes out. So, it's not my uncle, but it's also not the Cooper my heart is aching to see.

"There's no need," I mumble, not even attempting to move to face him. "She ended it."

He lets out a heavy breath. "I know. That's not what I'm here to talk about."

"Shouldn't you be on a plane?" I grumble, still unable, or unwilling, to move.

"Ouch," he grimaces. "I guess I deserve that."

"If you're here for an apology, I'm not exactly in the mood to–"

"That's not why I'm here," he interrupts me. "Well, not an apology from you anyway."

Slowly, I push myself from my bed, willing myself to sit up and see my best friend standing in front of me.

"You look like shit," he says, nodding his head in my direction.

"Is that your apology? Because if it is, it needs some work."

He laughs. "Nah. Fuck, man. I'm not good at this heart to heart crap," he pauses, pushing his hand through his hair before he lets it drop and takes a breath. "But listen, I'm sorry about what I said last night. I was in shock. When I saw you guys kissing, I don't know, it's like this overprotective brother shit I've burdened for years came to a head. Like everything I had been holding onto was suddenly shot to shit. But I didn't mean it. You've always been a brother to me, Camden."

I drop my face to my hands, running them up and down a few times to gather my breath. When I drop them back to my lap, I look up at him. "Is that really what you think I'm losing sleep over? You don't think I know you're fucking pissed at me?"

"I think this whole thing is fucked up," he answers. "I think my best friend promised me he'd never go after my sister and the moment I leave he does just that. I think the two people I've leaned on the most have been lying to me for months. Maybe longer."

"Do you even hear yourself right now, Jared? I get it. I lied. We hurt you. But if you stopped long enough to stop thinking only of yourself, you might actually see that the people around you are hurting too."

He's quiet, his eyes wide as he swallows my words. But fuck, I'm done trying to tiptoe around him, to bury feelings I've known have been there since forever.

"This isn't just about me, Camden," he drops his voice. "It was never just about me."

He hesitates before he takes a few steps and plops down at the foot of my bed. After running a hand through his hair again, he drops his head with a heavy sigh.

"Then what's it about?" I ask. "Tell me why she came in here last night to break things off after..." my words trail off, thinking about the night before, the moment she gave me everything. The pressure in my chest heightens, pushing with so much goddamn force that I fear it might collapse entirely. "After she talked to you."

He doesn't say anything, he just lets my words sit between us. I let him gather his thoughts as I sit in silence. He's mulling over his words, gathering what it is he wants to say next. I don't have anything to add. It's his turn to fill in the gaps.

"When my mom was diagnosed with cancer," he begins, turning to look at me before he continues. "I don't think I was truly prepared to watch her slip away from us. But, fuck man, watching her slowly wither away completely destroyed something inside me. It was some of the hardest shit I've ever gone through. And then I saw Mack fall apart." He pauses, gathering the strength to keep going.

I know that feeling. It's the one when the pain of loss comes rushing back. A flood of everything you felt is suddenly pushed into the present, like you haven't spent years healing.

I stay quiet, letting him pull himself together. He breathes through his nose, the heavy breaths a familiar anthem. "Losing our mom was hard on all of us," he continues, "but in those first few weeks, I thought I lost my sister too. She couldn't sleep, she just cried. She cried until she could barely breathe, until she had no tears left to shed, until she completely shut down. Seeing her like that, so distraught and broken...I promised myself I'd never let her hurt like that again. I promised to protect her from that point on."

There's sincerity behind his words, an honest strand of love he has for his sister, of utter fear at seeing her break again.

"I think you know as well as I do that we can't actually protect anyone from the fate of losing someone, from getting hurt," I say.

"I know," he acknowledges. "I wish I didn't, but I know that. It doesn't mean I wasn't going to try."

I nod. I get it. I understand where his head is at, where his heart has been. The intentions are noble, the execution is shit. "Look, I get it. I do. But do you really think stopping her from dating is going to prevent her from getting hurt?"

"No. I don't think dating in general is going to break her." He pauses, searching for his next set of words. "Listen, it's not that I don't think you're good enough for my sister, it's that with you...you have the power to completely destroy her, Camden. And I can't stand to see that happen."

There it is. The truth behind the promise he made me make. Except it's complete bullshit.

"And you think I could?" I question back. "You think I'd survive seeing her hurt like that? That I wouldn't do everything in my power not to see her hurt?"

"No," he quickly responds, catching me off guard. "But it's not the intentional hurt I'm worried about. I know you wouldn't do it on purpose, Camden. But can you honestly stand there and promise me this thing won't implode at some point? You're seniors in high school. There's still so much in front of you, in front of all of us. The odds of hurting her are far higher than not."

He's not completely wrong. And I can see the plea behind his eyes. As much as I want to chalk this up to him being a selfish asshole, he's not. He cares for Kenze, and I can't fault him for that. The problem is, she's already hurting. And it's not just the fact that her and I can't be together right now. She's been hurting for much longer than the events of last night. Jared has just been too blind to see it.

"All I have ever wanted is to protect her," he keeps going in my silence. "Can't you see where I'm coming from?"

I can. I truly can. The only problem is he's looking through a one-way glass. Taking a breath and sitting up straighter, I say, "You stand here declaring how all you've ever done is try to protect her. But what you don't see is what she's done to protect you. To protect your whole family."

"What are you–"

"I'm done, Jared," I cut him off. "You have a plane to catch. You don't want me to date your sister? I really don't give a fuck anymore. But she does. And I'll respect whatever she needs. Right now, that's for you to be happy, even if it means jeopardizing her own. So, you can go back to Tennessee knowing I won't break her heart, because you already did."

"Is this really what it's coming down to? You and me? This is how you want to leave it?"

"I've got nothing left, Jare. Just...go. Please?"

He waits, presumably questioning if I'm being serious. But I have no fight left in me. There's no room for trying to repair something so fractured. I know there will be a day when I can move past it, to forgive and understand. But right now is not that day. Not when I'm still clinging to the fading scent of her shampoo on my pillows, not when my heart still feels the warmth of her touch, and not when I'm still aching to hold her in my arms.

With a small nod, he stands. He doesn't say anything as he leaves my bedroom. As soon as he closes the door behind him, I collapse back onto my bed. The weight of everything pounds my chest, bringing a heavy flow of tears to my eyes.

Everything is so fucked up.

And it hurts.

It fucking hurts.