Page 118 of Bring You Back

“One thing at a time,” Tommy says, then addresses Banks before I can press him. “Why are you here?” he asks again, pointed pressure on each word. “Camille doesn’t even consider you a friend.Idon’t even consider you a friend,” he tacks on, then gestures to me and Reyna. “You’retheirfriends.”

“He’s not reallymyfriend, either,” Reyna adds, and I cut in with, “He’smyfriend. We get it.”

“Damn right I am,” Banks says, his insulted demeanor shifting to pride as he looks at me.

“So what’s the plan?” Reyna says, getting us on track. “We make her cry?”

Banks bursts out laughing. “Yes! And I volunteer,” he says with a raised finger.

Ignoring that, Reyna continues, “Have we everseenher cry?”

“Ihaven’t,” Banks announces through pointed disappointment. “So let’s do it!”

Reyna’s going off of what I said in text, about Camille holding back tears. Holding back sadness. She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t break.

The three of us rack our brains for memories of Camille crying, but we just end up locking eyes, our stares and minds blank. Reyna says, “It’s not that weird that she won’t.”

“She probably already has,” Tommy adds.

“I doubt it,” I say. Not with the way she was trying so hard not to. Theways. I still haven’t told Tommy and Reyna about that night with the porch light. I saw the wet in Camille’s eyes then, too. And I saw it dry right up.

She’s struggling, and she wants to go through it on her own. But knowing Camille, if we don’t push her forward, she’ll stay stuck in this cycle of wearing a brave face during the day, then rushing her way through the night to get to the light again. She needs to know she doesn’t have to. She needs to know she’s not alone. And, deep down, she doesn’t want to be. She came back to me. She came back to us. She came home.

For you.

For my friends.

Well, this is me. This is her friends. And we don’t let a single one of us struggle alone.

Be careful what you ask for, I think with a silent laugh, saying the phrase back to Camille in my head. She’s pulling me from my shit, now I’m pulling her from hers.

“So … we make her cry?” Tommy repeats Reyna’s question.

“No,” I say to wipe off the incredulous look on his face. Having already thought about it, I add, “Not exactly,” and he scoffs. Camille obviously needs to cry, but the goal shouldn’t be tomakeher cry. Although, if and when she finally does, it’ll help more than it’ll hurt.

“Then what do we do?” Reyna presses.

“We show her that we’re here. Together,” I answer simply, and Reyna stares like that’s not an answer at all right as I tack on, “And I have an idea.”

“So do I,” Tommy says, and we lock eyes, my brows raising expectantly. I’m attached to my idea, having thought of it pretty quickly, but we both know Camille, so if Tommy has a better one. . .

Turns out, it’s the same, and I should’ve known. We share a slight smile, then I address him and Reyna. “Okay,” I say, tone settled. We have to knock this out now when Camille’s still vulnerable, but not too on the tail of our confrontation when she’s still riled and ready to reject. “Tomorrow,” I decide. “Just wait for my GO text.”

We need to assemble before Camille gets out of bed, or after she leaves the house—whichever comes first. Tomorrow’s my day off, so I can keep an eye and ear on her movements.

Tommy and Reyna utter their agreements, then exchange another look. After a moment, he nods in the direction of the exit, and they walk off together in hushed conversation, her shoulder nudging against his. I’m wondering what they could possibly know when Banks—who I’d practically forgotten was here—hops down from the railing.

“I still say we make her cry.”

“Don’t be at the house tomorrow,” I say as I face him, needing him to understand he has to stay out of this. He opens his mouth to protest, but I’m ready with a bribe. “If you stay away, I’ll put in a good word for you with Marcy.”

His face scrunches. “Who?”

I stare. “I’m serious, man.”

Banks rolls his eyes, then they light up and he points at me. “The word better be good and she better say yes.”

I chuckle as I walk off with him right behind me. “No pressure.”

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