12. Will
CHAPTER 12
WILL
“I CAN’T EXPLAIN” - THE WHO
L ast night was interesting, almost like an out-of-body experience. In the military, they train us to have a “bulletproof mind,” which essentially means nothing, no situation or person or action, can rattle you. It sounds good in theory, and I’ve been through so much of the training that I like to pretend that it’s true for me. And honestly, in most situations it is. I’m calm under pressure and don’t let things affect me. My mind is locked carefully behind an impenetrable steel vault, and there isn’t anything that can enter it if I don’t want it to. That stupid ache in my chest, though, apparently didn’t get the memo.
As soon as I saw Elliott walk in the door with Cam, I knew that I had to talk to him. When Cam and I were dating, Elliott and I were close. He was the brother I never had but always wanted. I didn’t realize until I saw him yesterday just how much I missed our friendship. That dude has an unbelievable ability to make me laugh and to call me on my bullshit, not unlike his sister.
I asked him to talk mostly to clear the air. Not that I’m delusional enough to think things would ever be the same between us, but because I wanted him to hear it from me, man to man, what my truth is and what I intend to do about it. I’ve had a lot of time over these past few days to think, and I’ve realized, with the help of my sister, there are a few things that I know to be true. For starters, I care about Cam and I always will. She isn’t going away anytime soon, with Lo and Smith now a pair. Second, I can’t be with her. Not that she would want to be with me anyway, but I can’t. I am not willing to risk hurting her again or getting hurt. I made this decision five years ago for a reason, and I have to trust that it was the right choice. Finally, I would like for her and me to be friends. I’m not sure it’s possible given all the history, but she’s magnetic to be around. She’s funny, hardheaded, sassy, and the most genuinely caring person I’ve ever met. She’s a good friend, and I’d like to be one to her in return.
I asked Elliott if he thought it was possible that Cam would want to be friends. He said he wasn’t sure but that he thought it would be good for both of us to be able to get some closure and finally move forward. He even confirmed I still have the right phone number for her. God knows how many times I’ve almost called it over the years but stopped myself, not knowing who would be on the other end of the line. Now’s the time. I need to bite the bullet and text her—or should I try to call her? No, definitely text, that way if she’s sleeping, I don’t wake her up. And if she doesn’t want to respond, at least I’ll know if she leaves me on read. There’s a churning in my stomach and acid creeping up my throat as I open her contact.
Will
Hey, Wright. Hope the grease rinsed out of your hair okay.
I hit send and hop out of my bed like it’s on fire. I can’t lie here to see if she responds, the wait will kill me. And if she responds immediately, I know I’ll get a sense of false hope. This is precisely why I don’t deal with dating: I can’t do it. My anxiety over a stupid text message where I hope to ask a girl to be my friend has me ready to spin out.
I wander into the kitchen and start making coffee when Amy pops up from behind the peninsula looking ornery as all get out. “What’s the look you’re giving me, Aims?” I ask, rolling my eyes.
Of course, my sister just had to be in town, and suddenly become my new roommate, when all this went down. She will never let it go, and I can’t deal with disappointing her either. Amy always loved Cam. She looked up to her, and I’m sure I broke her heart as much as I did my own when I ended things.
“Soo...were you asking Elliott for her hand in marriage?” She chuckles.
“Amy, no, what the hell...She hates me!” I exclaim while chucking a wadded-up coffee filter at her.
Amy looks at me like I have three eyeballs and a snaggle tooth. “Are you serious, Will? You cannot think for a second that Cameron Wright actually hates you. The girl practically swoons every time she sees you. She may trade barbs with you out of anger, but there are hearts in her eyes when she does it, and there always will be,” Amy says defiantly.
“I texted her,” I admit at an almost inaudible volume.
“Wait. Why? Did she respond?” Amy asks before I even finish my sentence.
“I don’t know. I hit send and then ran out here to make coffee,” I say nonchalantly, when in reality, the words cool , calm , and collected aren’t anywhere near to describing me at the moment.
Amy stares at me, mouth gaping like I just admitted to the crime of the century. Before I can even register what’s happening, she leaps up and darts into my bedroom, presumably to grab my phone. I continue making my coffee because I suspect she’s going to be highly disappointed when she sees no response from Cam, but then I hear her gasp. “William Jessie Davenport, did you seriously think it was a good idea to remind her of what I assume is the most humiliating moment of her life?” she shouts from the other room.
I shrug and carry my steaming mug into the bedroom with me. Amy is perched on the edge of my bed looking smug as hell. “Do you want to know what she said?” she asks, guiltily.
“Give me the phone, Aims,” I demand, holding my hand out palm side up.
“Nope, not unless I know that you aren’t going to be a total man about this and write something back that’s just as lame as your first message.”
I take a deep breath and run my free hand through my hair. “Fine, you can help me think of something to say, but first I need to know what she responded with.” Amy hands me the phone, and I see for myself.
Cam
Can we just pretend that the whole thing never happened, Rambo?
I shoot back a quick message. Amy smacks me when she sees what I am typing but hovers over my shoulder nonetheless.
Will
I mean, maybe, but you do have five million views on TikTok so it might be a challenge.
Cam
Shut up, no I do not. You better be joking!
Cam
By the way, are you just texting me to remind me of Grease Gate? Or is there another reason why are you messaging me, Rambo?
Will
I was hoping we could make a truce.
Cam
????
Will
Let’s agree to be friends, for Lo and Smith.
Cam
I know you don’t want me in your life, and frankly, I’m not sure I want you in mine. I care about you and that will never change, but I think it’s for the best if we don’t pretend this is some weird twist of fate or that it means something it doesn’t. It’s purely coincidence that we ended up living in the same city. We don’t need to be friends just because our friends are dating.
Wow, I feel like I might throw up. Cam really doesn’t want me in her life. I always knew I would have a hard time if I ever ran into her and her husband, the fictitious one that lives in my mind, back home. I never imagined that I would run into her here and that she would be single and still want nothing to do with me. Bumping into her anywhere outside of our hometown hadn’t ever crossed my mind as a possibility. I assumed she was living in Iowa with Mr. Perfect, not living thousands of miles from home with a roommate.
I should just respond and say yes, we can forget it all, but deep down I know now that I’ve spent time with her, I can’t do that. I’m jealous of every minute my friends spend with her that I don’t. It makes my skin itch when she razzes Butler or Ruiz, or when she does something nice or gives advice to Smith. I should evaluate what that means, but it doesn’t matter. I won’t go there. I will not let myself think about the possibility of being vulnerable just to have someone walk away.
I know that I’m not the guy for her. I can give her pleasure for sure, but I can’t make her happy—not, like, truly happy, white picket fence and two-point-five kids happy. How have I been going through life without her all this time?
“What are you going to say?” Amy asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“Honestly, I have no fucking clue. What should I say?”
“Say no ! Ugh...tell her you absolutely are not going to forget it and that yes ! Fate did bring you back into each other’s lives, and you aren’t entirely sure what that means, but you’d like to try being friends,” Amy rattles out, sounding completely exasperated by this entire situation and me.
“I don’t know, maybe there just really is too much hurt there. I mean, I want to be friends, that’s why I sent the message, but if I’m being honest, I’m not sure I even really know how to just be friends with her,” I admit.
“Well duh! I swear some days I think you’re the smartest person alive and others I think you’re more on par with a caveman. You aren’t actually going to end up friends, but too much time has passed. You need to live in the friend zone for a little bit until I can get you back into the boyfriend zone, Will.” She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, just like she did when we were kids and she meant business.
“I don’t want to be out of the friend zone, though, Aims. I can’t.”
“Shut up, Will. You can lie to yourself all you want, but I see the connection you two have. It’s like watching two magnets orbit around each other until they eventually crash together under the weight of the pull. You always start out in separate corners, but don’t forget big brother”—she pats me on the shoulder—“I’ve been with you every time she’s around, and you both end up trading verbal punches as an excuse to be near each other.”
I’m probably going to live to regret it, but I let Amy type the message out and send it. I can’t forget Cam lives here, and I also can’t justify rushing back into things. Maybe Amy’s right, maybe being friends with Cam is the way to go, and maybe we can end up just being cool with each other.
She always was my best friend and it would be nice to have that back, even if it scares the living daylights out of me. I tell Amy I’m going to head to the shower and beg her not to respond to any new messages without my approval. A long, hot shower is what I need to get my mind clear and figure out my messy life.