AN//: Things were running slow so I had to fast forward a little. This is basically just a filler. Just to let you know how Cameron is feeling. There will be mroe of DJ Danjuhh in the next chapter. (:
It's hard now to let you be. I won't make excuses. I've made my peace.
It had been another three weeks before my brother had finally came through. He kept his promise, and now we were moving into an apartment off of Ricolette Drive. It was refreshing, having a whole place to ourselves and not having to listen to the constant chattering of two old school chums.
I put away the last of my clothing, and stood up to glance around, satisfied with how much work I'd gotten done in the past three and a half hours. "Looks good." Brian commented, seemingly coming out of no where. I put a hand to my heart to emphasize the shock of his appearance. "Thanks." Brian just nodded, and then held up a stack of photographs, waving the around. "These are yours." He threw them on my bed, and I rolled my eyes. "Great. More junk." He chuckled at my sarcasm, and grabbed the empty carboard boxes out of my room. "Let's not mope around the house today, okay?" He teased. I smiled and bobbed my head. "I'll do what I can."
Brian left, and shut the door quietly behind him. I groaned, already aware of how absolutely boring today would be. I flopped back on my bed, and the edges of the pictures poked the side of my arm. I rolled over, collecting them into a neat pile. I pursed my lips upon seeing the first picture. My father, brother, and I completely decked out in soccer wear. We'd play every Sunday night, and it would get rough. I wasn't just a poor sport. I was THE WORST sport. I hated losing.
Hated losing. I laughed maniacally to myself. Man, did that ever describe me? Coping with losing was he equivelant of dying a slow, painful death. Every day it ate away at you. It was tormenting. I couldn't help but reflect on everything I'd left behind. Everything I'd lost. I'd pushed the memories to the back of my mind for so long, trying to overcome them. Trying to forget about them. But how in the h.ell do you forget about something or someone who's impacted your life so immensly? It was impossible to deny anything from your past.
I flipped to the next picture, and I felt a tear roll down my cheek. Joe and I before we'd left for his tour together. Before my mother so falsely accused him of killing my father. My depression quickly transfused into anger as I threw the God forsaken photos at an innocent wall. The glossy pages littered my bedroom floor, and I stomped over them, grabbing a pair of black knee-high boots and pulling them on. I snatched my bag off the dresser and left without any explanation to my brother.
The muggy summer air flushed around me, sliding a stray tear back across my cheekbone. I folded my arms over my chest protectively. The clapping of my heels to the pavement was drowned out by my sniffling. I walked until I found an diner at the corner. The inside was a ghost town. There were three lazy waitresses leaning against a small counter, unexpectant of any guests. I showed myself to a booth by a window and ordered a coke. The waitress just smiled, apprehensive of my behavior. I thought hard about why I was so upset and came to the conclusion that everything was solely my fault when it came to Joe. I apparently hadn't been making enough of an effort. I'd been sending him mix signals. I'd been slowly pushing him away.
I hadn't really expected Joe to act so judgementally when I told him I'd already moved here though. I expected him to understand. But somewhere we'd lost the trust and our connection. He never called me back after my apology/confession. The pain was too much to bare. I felt rejected. Ridiculous. Overwhelmed.
I sipped my soda slowly, making sure I didn't choke due to my spaztic state. I stared out the window at a thrift store across the street. I felt like I'd fallen into a fifties movie. You know, the ones where everyone is on first name basis and they're always sporting a cheesy smile? I was at a disadvantage though. I didn't know a single person aside from Brian and Dillon and I didn't think I'd be asking them to hang out anyime soon. So I decided that I'd make this rundown diner my new hangout. A secret lair, if you will. In the privacy of my little vinyl clad booth I could think everything over and even cry if I needed to. It hadn't seemed to bother anyone today. I poked an ice cube with the end of my straw, prodding it around the glass. I reached into my purse to pull out my wallet. I think five bucks would've covered it. The inside of the dark bag was glowing. I meddled around, searching for the source of the light until I found my cell phone.
ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE.
I'm sorry for breaking all the promises that I wasn't around to keep.
It's all me.
I shut my eyes tightly, fighting back the droplets that so threateningly were forming in them. I shut my phone, but then it vibrated.
ONE NEW TEXT MESSAGE.
See you soon.
- J.
A couple more hours of thinking in this booth couldn't hurt.
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