Page 30 of You're So Vine
He looks appalled, and I don’t blame him.
Shit. What now?
ChapterTen
CAM
The rational part of me understands why Ava would want to check my phone. I mean, I quit in the middle of foreplay to read Lee’s text, which Ava took amazingly well, considering. And no doubt I sounded pretty cagy when I explained why I was worried. Someone as smart as Ava would know immediately that there was a whole lot more behind that story. She didn’t press me, which, again, was generous of her, but I can understand why she might have unanswered questions. And why she might want to look for some of those answers on my phone.
But the rest of me feels gut punched. By checking on me, she’s highlighted that I fucked up. I acted in the moment without thinking, and like all the other times I’ve done that, it’s turned everything to shit. We were in a good place, and I ruined it by being a knucklehead. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m capable of being anything else. No matter how hard I try.
Ava’s sitting up now, her face a mixture of guilt and defensiveness. I’m standing here holding the water glasses. We’re in a silent stand-off, me trying to ride my wave of emotions, Ava trying to work out how to explain. The pause is weighing heavy on both of us.
“She took you from me last night,” says Ava, who was, let’s face it, most likely to break the silence first. “And you went with her without hesitating. You answered her text without hesitating. I feel like I’m being kept out of a loop. The Cam and Lee loop. And I hate that.”
I admire her honesty. Wish I was brave enough to say what I feel straight out, and not be choked by the worry that it’ll be the wrong thing.
“I wanted to see if she’d put love heart emojis or kisses on the text,” Ava goes on. “Or Ididn’twant to see them, if you know what I mean…”
Time I said something. Ava’s doing all the heavy lifting here. Be good if I also stopped holding these water glasses in a death grip.
“Do you want me to show you?” I say.
“Do you want me to see?” she counters.
There you have it. A question I don’t quite know how to answer. My friendship with Lee has always been private. No one but us knows what we’ve talked about and what we’ve revealed to each other or confessed. If her late husband, Billy, ever had a problem with Lee and I spending time together, he never let on. I doubt he did, because Billy was like Shelby, a hundred percent open and honest to the point of oversharing. He trusted everyone and because of that, no one ever took advantage of him. The community here could see he was something special, and so they decided to repay his trust by looking out for him.
Shelby, like a mini-Billy, has never once questioned her mom’s friendship with me. Never once asked me about it. Ava’s the first to put me on the spot, and I’m not sure what response would be the right one.
Ava interprets my hesitation in her own way.
“All right, it’s none of my business how you talk to each other,” she says. “I don’t need to see your texts. I just want to know… Is she going to be a constant third wheel in our relationship?”
Thisquestion I can answer.
“Like I said, Lee’s an old friend and we look out for each other,” I say, “but she’s only a friend.”
“So, if she texted right now with a problem and asked you to drive on up the coast to help her, would you?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” I assure her. “Might make a couple of calls to rope in someone else to help, but I wouldn’t abandon you.”
Ava looks like she wants to be convinced but hasn’t quite got there yet.
The damn water glasses are freezing my hands into blocks of ice. Doesn’t help that I’m completely naked and have been standing stock still for the last few minutes. I walk over to the bed, hand Ava a glass, and set the other down beside my phone.
“Okay if I get back in bed?” I ask.
“It’s your bed,” she says, with a wry little smile.
I get in beside her, and we sit upright, sipping on water, not talking.
“I’m sorry,” Ava says, in a quiet voice. “Shouldn’t have snooped.”
“I should’ve left my phone downstairs,” I say. “Left it alone period.”
Lesson learned. Hard way, as usual.
Ava’s silent. I risk a glance at her, and she’s staring straight ahead, not smiling. I realize how much I’ve come to appreciate—and rely on—her openness and honesty. Helps orient me, helps me know which direction I need to head. But I can’t keep relying on other people to take the lead—Billy, Lee, Shelby and now Ava. I have to start setting my own course before I forget how it’s done.
