Page 26 of Bring You Back

The Wrong Guy

Camille

I hate tourists.

They’re like newborn babies thrust into a whole new world; arms flailing, feet kicking, screaming at the top of their lungs from sensory overkill.

They crowd around me with their cameras, chunky bags, and loud mouths as I enter the boardwalk, my eyes scanning for Julian.

Tommy stayed behind with Grumbles. She needs to get used to a place before she can be left alone, and Tommy volunteered his presence. The first time I left her alone shortly after I got her, I came back to find her croaking a meow with her toy mouse in her mouth, looking up at me with sad eyes. I can handle sad eyes, just not on a cat.

Also, I don’t need Banks coming back and letting her out to spite me.He’sthe one who belongs outside.

I left the two after Julian’s brazen exit to chase after him.Chaseisn’t the right word. I don’t chase people. I don’t seek them out, especially when they don’t want to be found. You either want to listen to what I have to say or you don’t. You either want me around or you don’t. It’s no hair off my head.

Julian wants me around, he’s just hurt. Guarded. Closed-off to the cause.

My friends always came to me. I would’ve never had friends, or anyone, if they hadn’t. After fights, they came to me. After I built ever-rebuilding walls, they came to me and knocked them down again. They came to me for advice, even though it rolled off my tongue unsolicited all the time, and they didn’t always care for my blunt delivery.

They came, and I need that from them.

Someone like me needs someone who shows up. Someone like me needs someone who cares more. It helps me care more.

Someone like me needs someone like Julian.

IneedJulian.

I’m not an initiator. A beggar. A seeker. And Julian specifically, more so last summer, was the one who sought me out, every day up until the last, initiated what we could have become had I stayed. He wanted to spend most of his time with me. He laughed at andappreciatedmy snark. He flirted. He liked me for exactly who I am. He wanted me for exactly who I am.

I’m not sure how to handle an avoidant version of him. I have a comfort zone, one I’m trying to step back into, and he’s pushing me out of it, forcing me to be vulnerable. It’s an ingrained struggle, the hardest to root out.

Now he has walls. One has my name on it. And I’ll keep putting cracks in that wall until it crumbles.

If I want him back, I’ll have to seek. Care more while he acts like he doesn’t care at all.

Now is not the time, Julian.

“Camille!”

Oh, good grief. It’s not the time for this, either.

I shove my hands into the pockets of my jean jacket and wait for Cheater Number Two as he approaches with his side piece—aka Julian’s not-dad and the other woman. They’re all smiles, happy in the midst of family tragedy. Naomi is Cheater Number One, but if anyone’s wondering why I’m not giving her the same judgments, her cheating gave us someone we all love: Julian. Brent Fowler’s cheating is giving us a spawn we roll our eyes at.

“Mr. Fowler,” I greet in a flat tone.

His head jerks back, smile falters. “You never call me that.”

“Well, I don’t know who you are anymore,” I say with a pointed look from him to his arm candy. That’s all Tiffany Landis is good for.

I take sides, and when I do, I take them very seriously.

She ducks her head with a shamed smile, and Brent clears his throat, too clogged for this conversation.

“What brings you back?” he asks with another smile. Another person who doesn’t know about Caleb.

It’s best to say it now, when nothing but sharp disappointment for the man in front of me stabs my stomach.

But I don’t say the exact words I’m thinking. I don’t even say his name.

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