Chapter 94: 94 | It Was Perfect. Wasn’t It?
A guy Eliza didn’t know walked up. Tall. Blonde. Looked like every other lacrosse player at this school.
"Yo Cam," the guy said. "We’re playing beer pong in the garage. You in?"
"Hell yeah." Cameron looked at Eliza. "You good here?"
"Yeah I’m good."
"Cool." He kissed her cheek. "Be right back."
He walked away.
Didn’t look back.
Eliza stood alone in the kitchen again.
Music pounded through the walls. Someone laughed too loud. A girl screamed something about shots.
Eliza’s phone buzzed.
She pulled it out.
Lexi: ok but seriously
Lexi: did you talk to him
Eliza’s thumb hovered over the keyboard.
She thought about the way Jordan looked in that sociology classroom. His hair was different. Fixed. Dirty blonde instead of that awful box-dye brown. His shoulders were broader. His jaw was sharper.
He looked good.
Really good.
And his voice.
God, his voice.
The rasp was gone. That nervous edge that used to make every sentence sound like a question.
Now his voice was smooth. Confident.
Deep.
Eliza’s face got hot.
What the hell was wrong with her?
She typed fast.
Eliza: no
Eliza: didn’t talk to him
Lexi: probably for the best
Lexi: cameron would lose his shit if you did
Eliza: yeah I know
She locked her phone. The screen went dark. Her reflection stared back at her from the black glass.
Cameron would definitely lose his shit if he found out she’d been thinking about Jordan. If he knew she’d watched him walk into that sociology classroom looking like a completely different person. If he had any idea her stomach did that weird flip thing when Jordan’s eyes passed over her like she wasn’t even there.
Cameron got jealous easy. Possessive about stupid stuff. Got mean sometimes when he drank too much and some guy looked at her too long or laughed at something she said.
But he was hot. His parents were loaded. Dating him meant Eliza got invited to the right parties with the right people. Spring break in Cabo. Ski trips to Aspen. Bottle service at clubs that didn’t card if you knew the promoter.
So what if he finished in three minutes and rolled over without saying anything?
So what if he smelled like Natty Light and too much Dior Sauvage?
So what if he never asked about her classes or her day or what she actually wanted to do on weekends besides show up to wherever he decided they were going?
So what?
Eliza finished the drink in her hand. The red solo cup crumpled slightly when she squeezed it.
Empty.
She walked back to the kitchen island. Someone had left bottles everywhere. Tito’s. Smirnoff. Some cheap plastic handle that probably tasted like rubbing alcohol.
She grabbed the Tito’s. Twisted the cap off. Poured herself another drink.
Straight vodka this time.
No mixer.
She downed half of it in one gulp.
Her throat burned.
Her eyes watered.
Better.
Someone bumped into her from behind.
"Sorry!" A girl with blonde extensions giggled. "Oh my god Eliza hi!"
"Hi." Eliza still couldn’t remember anyone’s name.
"You look so good! Is that sweater from Revolve?"
"Yeah."
"I knew it! You always have the cutest stuff."
The girl kept talking. Something about a sale. Something about boots.
Eliza nodded at the right times.
Her brain was somewhere else entirely.
That bathroom.
Chloe’s face in the mirror.
"He’s my boyfriend."
The way she said it. So matter-of-fact. So certain.
Like Jordan was hers.
Like Eliza didn’t get to even look at him anymore.
Eliza’s chest went tight again.
Which was stupid.
She didn’t want Jordan. She never wanted Jordan.
Jordan was sweet but boring. Nice but annoying. He texted too much. Called too much. Always wanted to know where she was and what she was doing and could he see her tomorrow.
It was suffocating.
Cameron never texted first. Never called unless he wanted something. Barely remembered her schedule.
It was perfect.
Wasn’t it?
The blonde girl was still talking.
Eliza nodded again.
"Totally," she said. No idea what she was agreeing to.
The girl beamed. "Right? Okay I’m gonna go find Becca. See you later!"
She disappeared into the crowd.
Eliza finished her drink.
Poured another.
Her head was starting to feel fuzzy. Warm.
Good.
She wanted fuzzy.
Fuzzy meant she could stop thinking about Jordan’s new voice and Jordan’s new shoulders and the way that girl Chloe looked at him like he hung the fucking moon.
Cameron appeared again. His face was flushed. His eyes were glassy.
Drunk.
"Hey babe." He pulled her against his chest. His hands went straight to her ass. "Ready to get out of here?"
Eliza’s stomach turned.
"I thought you wanted to hang out with your friends."
"Changed my mind." His breath was hot against her neck. Sour. "Want you alone."
His hand squeezed.
Eliza forced another smile.
"Okay," she said. "Let’s go."
They walked to the car.
Cameron drove too fast. Ran a red light. Laughed when Eliza flinched.
"Relax," he said. "I got it under control."
He didn’t.
But Eliza didn’t say anything.
They pulled into his apartment complex. Some expensive place near the beach that his parents paid for. Three bedroom. Two bathroom. Cameron had two roommates but they were never home.
Cameron parked crooked across two spaces.
They got out.
Walked to his door.
Inside, the apartment smelled like old takeout and weed. The TV was on. Some basketball game.
Cameron locked the door behind them.
Turned to face Eliza.
His eyes were dark again.
Hungry.
"Come here," he said.
Eliza walked over.
Cameron kissed her hard. His hands were rough. Impatient.
He pushed her back toward his bedroom.
Eliza let him.
This was what she wanted, right?
Cameron was hot. Cameron was popular. Cameron’s parents owned a yacht.
Golden ticket.
They reached his bedroom.
Cameron pushed her onto the bed.
Climbed on top of her.
His mouth moved to her neck. Sloppy kisses. Too much teeth.
Eliza closed her eyes.
Tried to focus.
But her brain wouldn’t cooperate.
All she could think about was Jordan.
Jordan’s hands. Jordan’s voice. Jordan’s face when Eliza walked into that classroom and saw him sitting there looking nothing like the boy she remembered.
Cameron’s hand slid under her sweater.
Eliza’s breath hitched.
Not from pleasure.
From something else.
Something that felt a lot like regret.
