Chapter Ten Kami
Chapter Ten
Kami
I almost cracked my head open when I jumped out of Thiago’s window, but it didn’t matter, I had to get out of that house. How could I have done that?
I could always blame the alcohol, say it hadn’t been the real me because otherwise, how could I explain cheating on my boyfriend, and like that?
But it wasn’t the first time Thiago and I had shared…
something. And this was the farthest we’d taken it yet.
That time in his car a few weeks ago had been an isolated incident, an attempt to heal past wounds or put a happy ending on a childhood romance, a way of learning not to hate each other so we could move on.
The almost-kiss at school, that would never have happened if I hadn’t been so upset about Cameron getting bullied. But this time…
I loved Taylor. I knew I did. But what I felt for Thiago was something different. Something forbidden. Something that drove me absolutely insane.
Stop it. Stop it, Kamila. Taylor’s the one for you.
Taylor’s the one who takes care of you, who respects you, who makes you laugh, who supports you while everyone else at school despises you—he doesn’t give a damn about showing how much you mean to him in front of them.
Thiago’s not even a student, he’s a coach!
He’s your boyfriend’s brother, and besides, he’s too serious, too standoffish, too sarcastic.
Taylor’s the right choice. He always will be.
Taylor…
In my room, I plugged in my phone, which had gone dead, and opened my messages.
Taylor had called me like ten times.
Please, Kami, where are you?
Please, Kami, I’m worried.
Babe, come on, answer the phone. I’m sorry, OK?
I called back, and he picked up immediately.
“Where are you? Are you all right?”
I fell back in bed and closed my eyes.
“I’m fine,” I said in a tired voice.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at home. I’m sorry. I just drank too much, and I started feeling bad.”
“Listen, Kami, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I acted like that. It’s just…I don’t know, I have this feeling like something’s going on between you and my brother. I don’t know what it is or why you two are hiding it.”
I was literally the worst person in the world. “Taylor, there’s nothing going on between Thiago and me…” Why was I lying? Was I incapable of being honest with myself? It’s because I loved them both. That’s why.
“I know,” he said after a pause. “I know, and that’s why I’m sorry. You want me to come over? You want to come back here? Come sleep with me. Mom won’t be back until noon tomorrow…”
It was tempting, and if the thing with Thiago hadn’t happened just half an hour before, I’d have accepted his offer without hesitating.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t get into his bed after I’d just crawled out of his brother’s.
I couldn’t let myself fall that low. “I’m tired. We should leave it for another day.”
For a few seconds, he said nothing, but then he gave in. “Fine. Get some rest, OK? We can go for a walk tomorrow or have breakfast or something, if you want.”
“We need to work on our human sexuality project.”
“You’re damn right we do,” he said in that sly tone that always made me laugh.
“Tomorrow at the library, then?”
“Yeah. I’ll drive.”
“Sounds good,” I said, trying to clear out that sadness in my chest so I could get on with my life.
“Good night, babe.” He sighed.
“Good night.”
We hung up, and I undressed and put on my pajamas. Before I got into bed, I couldn’t help but look outside at the room across from mine. Thiago had drawn his curtains. He almost never did that, and I felt a twinge of guilt again. Was he feeling just as bad as me?
Of course he was. I mean, it was his brother we were talking about.
Shit…
I got into bed and tried to sleep.
***
The next morning, I woke up with a head-splitting hangover. Parts of my body ached that I didn’t even know existed. My ears were ringing, I could hardly open my eyes, but before getting in the shower, I reached over and checked my Instagram.
My friends’ stories started off with them drinking and taking selfies and smiling, and ended with them wasted—dancing, jumping on the Di Biancos’ furniture, even hooking up while people filmed them.
I didn’t realize what was happening until the notifications started flooding in from all my followers. I stopped looking at stories and went to my profile page. What I saw made me sit up in bed. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
On my feed was a photo, posted from my own account, of Kate and me from years back, when we were twelve. Our arms were around each other and we were smiling, but there was a big red X over the top, and below it read I hate you, you wannabe.
What the…
The comments said: You’re the wannabe.
You’re a shitty friend.
Nobody likes you.
FAKE.
You suck.
Most of the comments were defending Kate, but some of them took my side too.
Kate’s a bitch and she doesn’t deserve you.
You’ll always be queen bee.
Fuckfuckfuck.
Who had hacked my account? How? Where had they gotten that photo? And why were they trying to hurt me?
One comment especially caught my eye, from a user named @omv_ovamat, whose profile photo was an image of Momo. It was scary. I hated that stupid doll, and I wondered what the hell was going on. The user had written: Now you’re like me, and soon you’ll be mine.
The profile had zero followers and no posts, and I was the only account it followed.
What the hell? I won’t lie, I was terrified, but I tried to keep in mind just how weird things had gotten at school too.
Didn’t people in Carsville have anything better to do?
I erased the photo and tried to text Kate on WhatsApp to apologize, but she’d blocked me.
It made sense, but still, did she really think I was capable of posting something like that?
And who had hacked my account? I changed my password.
I couldn’t believe all this had happened, and it wasn’t even 9 a.m.
I showered and went downstairs for breakfast. I was so wrapped up in my own troubles that I’d totally forgotten Dad was leaving.
His suitcases were piled up by the door—that was all I could take.
As soon as I saw him eating breakfast with my brother, the tears started to fall.
Dad looked up from his cereal and walked over, enveloping me in a big hug.
“Oh, honey…”
He was one of those guys who just made you feel protected. And around him, I turned back into a little girl. A little girl who needed her dad and whose heart would break when she had to watch him go. “Dad, stay, please,” I begged, even though I knew it was unfair.
“Don’t cry,” he said, stroking my hair with his giant hands. “I’ll be back in a few weeks to see you guys.”
Something inside me knew that wasn’t true.
With all the problems he’d been having, how would he find time for us?
My brother didn’t get up, and when I looked over at him, the grimace on his face made me realize I needed to get a hold of myself.
You can’t let Cameron see you like this.
You’ve got to be strong for him. So I forced a smile, let Dad go, and wiped away the tears.
“What’s for breakfast?” I asked, trying and failing spectacularly to sound normal.
“Captain America cereal!” my dad said.
I tried to show enthusiasm. “Whoa, Captain America, cool, I want to try it!” I sat down next to my brother, feeling better as the tears on my cheeks dried.
How awful it felt to think that was the last time my father would wake up there to have breakfast with us—we wouldn’t see him coming home tired from work in the evenings, smiling, and pulling a chocolate bar out of his coat for us.
Divorce sucked.
“OK, guys, I really should go,” he said after loading the dishwasher.
As he said that, we heard doors opening and closing upstairs, and a few minutes later, my mother came down in a pair of jeans and a white knit sweater, with knee-high boots and her blond hair pulled back like a ballerina’s. She looked gorgeous.
“I’m headed out,” my father said after glancing over at her.
“No need to rush,” she responded, dropping her bag on the kitchen table. “You got everything you need for the trip?”
“Yeah, everything’s ready,” Dad said, walking over to my brother, who stood up on his chair and hugged him tight.
Cameron burst into tears, and Dad whispered something into his ear, but it didn’t seem to do much good, he just held on tighter.
Dad carried him to the front door and set him down.
I wouldn’t cry again, I told myself. I needed to be strong for Dad, for Cameron…
“Love you, Dad,” I said, wrapping my arms around him again.
“I love you too, princess,” he said, kissing my forehead and turning to Mom. She picked up Cameron, and the look on her face was strange.
“Take care of yourself,” Dad said, “and take care of them.” He gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. I was surprised to see her eyes begin to water. Maybe she did have human feelings?
“Let…” she began, then paused. “Let Kamila know when you get there.” I guess she realized she could no longer ask much more from him. Once my father walked out that door, their lives would separate, and they’d both have to start over from zero.
Dad went to his car, and, with tears in our eyes, the three of us watched him go. My brother was sobbing uncontrollably while I managed to keep a grip. A single tear rolled down Mom’s cheek, which she wiped away as soon as she felt it.
“Let’s go inside, it’s cold,” she said, pulling Cam along with her.
I stayed in the doorway, watching Dad’s car disappear and wondering when life, or karma, had decided to turn against me so sharply.