Sorrow's Story

“What are you doing here?” he frowned, looking back at Nathan.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I blinked at him, looking over him – he changed so much since I last saw him. He “You grew up.”

“That’s what happens when you get older,” he stared at me blankly. “Why did you leave? Why are you here?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nathan jutted into the conversation, oblivious to what was going on. “You two know each other?”

“We met when I was living in Virginia,” Cam brushed him off. “Why did you leave me?”

I closed my eyes; my headache was getting worse, “Because you didn’t need me anymore. You got your life back together, you were going to be somebody, like I always knew you would,”’ I explained leaning against the wall.

“I could have helped you,” he stated somewhat angrily. “And you are still homeless.”

I bit my tongue, “I’m fine. I’m not hurt, I’m not dying, and I’m not starving. I’m completely fine.”

“You’re so skinny Row,” he pointed out, slightly concerned.

“Hey,” Nathan poked Cam in the arm multiple times. “How do you know her?”

“I was homeless when I was fifteen until I was seventeen, I’ve told you that like three times already,” Cam rolled his eyes. “Sorrow helped me.”

I scoffed, “It wasn’t me; it was all you.”

“She is the reason I’m not homeless anymore,” Cam explained, but I disagreed with him completely.

“…You were homeless?” Nathan gaped at him; his eyes would probably pop out of their socket if they got any bigger. I would love to see that if they actually did.

“You need to be a better listener Nathan,” I shook my head at him. “Don’t tell him who I am please, I’m trying to teach him lesson. And it is very, very irritating trying to teach him something as it is.”

“I’m right here,” he glared at me, anger seeping into his voice.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I spat sarcastically. “Did I hurt little Nathan’s feeling?” I patted the top of his head and then wiped my palm on the front of my jeans, turning my expression into one of disgust.

“So that’s where you’ve been,” Cam smirked, glancing over to me for a fraction of a second. “Professor Nicks thinks that you’re sick with the flu, you’re welcome.”

“Thanks.”

“Your homework is on the kitchen table,” Cam sighed turning so he face me. “We are going to talk.”

I blinked at him, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, “Not now.”

“When?” he stood in front of me glaring down at me trying to make me feel inferior. Not gonna happen.

I pushed him as hard as I could without injuring him and he fell on his back, groaning as I stood over him.

“Later,” I snapped but then narrowed my eyes at him as he started laughing. “What are you laughing at moron?”

“You never changed,” he finally gasped out between laughs.

“Neither have you,” I waved him of as I stepped over him carelessly, walking over to Nathan, “When are we leaving?”

“You’re leaving?” he stood up abruptly, standing over me blocking me from Richie’s view.

I cupped my hand around his jaw, patting his cheek twice, “Now, now Cam, there’s no need for that,” I morphed my mocking smirk into blank line. “So when?”

“Let me just get my bag,” Richie said, walking out the polished door.

The moment he left was the moment Cam’s transparent façade lifted and he wrapped his hands around my shoulders firmly, “Where did you get the money?”

I closed my eyes for a moment before opening them, feigning innocence, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Cut the crap Row, you left forty-thousand dollars and a note saying sorry. Where the hell did you get that money?” he demanded.

“You have your secrets, I have mine,” I winced as my brain tried to release the memories I’ve been holding back for two over years. “But if you truly want to know, remember when I had the nightshift waitressing job, I gave you the money we had left.”

He stared at me for a minute and then scoffed in my face, “Two months taking orders and cleaning tables won’t get you forty grand, it won’t even get you an eighth of what you left.”

I ran my tongue across my cracked dry lips, “Something’s are better left unspoken, but in time I will tell you the truth,” I half lied, I probably would never tell him what I actually did to earn that money.

He still didn’t look satisfied, “Did you at least keep some for yourself?”

I shook my head, “No, I gave it all to you. You needed it more than I did.”

He stared at me, his mouth gapping slightly, “Are you kidding me? You weigh less than you did when you left – you’re what? Seventy, sixty pounds? And you are still homeless, and you don’t even care.”

“I don’t regret my decision,” I told him honestly. “Let’s go, Richie,” I greeted emotionlessly as I heard him approach, I turned and practically of the flawless house. I knew that if I spent another second in there, my skin would start to crawl from the claustrophobia.

Cam caught up easily, striding confidently beside me, “Why don’t we go by the bakery and get something?”

“Yes,” Nathan said the same time I said, “Not a chance.”

“Why not?” Richie stomped his feet like a toddler wanting a shiny new toy.

“My rules,” was my only reply.

“Whatever,” he grumbled under his breath.