Cameron-Free
"Alright you guys, we have to make a decision now!" Cameron ordered as her girlfriends gathered into the living room and sat down on the couches and floor.
"Pink!" Monica shouted out.
"No, baby blue," Leslie argued, "I look fantastic in it." The girls laughed and playfully rolled their eyes.
"I say white," Tonya said, "You know it's all about purity and whatever. Not that any of us are pure. . ." Another collective laugh was shared.
"Lavender," Amanda suggested, "I don't know why though." The women giggled at the girl before turning to Cameron.
"So, Cammie, what'll it be?" Monica asked. Cameron looked at the silk swatches of fabric and pouted as she thought.
"Baby blue," she finally decided, "It's Justin's favorite color."
"Yes!" Leslie cheered, "I guess I have something to look forward to."
"My wedding was enough to look forward to," Cameron joked, "You're lucky you're a bridesmaid and gettin' to wear a sexy ass dress."
"I should be the maid of honor," Leslie mumbled, "I've known you since forever."
"Yeah, well I've known her longer," Lydia smiled, "I'm her sister."
"Sister, slipster," Leslie snorted, "I'd look so much better in your dress."
"Too bad, bitch," Lydia and the other women laughed.
"I'm hungry," Amanda whined, "Where's the food?" Cameron shrugged.
"Justin and the boys should be here any minute though." As soon as the words left her mouth, the sound of jiggling keys could be heard and a group of men came trampling through the room with bags of Chinese.
"Amen!" Amanda said dramatically. Everybody began to shout out orders and grab bags, some exchanges were even made.
"Who had shrimp Lo Mein?" Monica asked.
"Oh, that was Justin's," Chris, Amanda's boyfriend, answered. Cameron's ears caught sound of his name and she began to look around the room for him.
"Where is he?" Cameron questioned. Chris shrugged.
"He asked us to drop him off somewhere and said he'd get a ride home," he explained, "I think he's insane for doing that though."
"Where'd you drop him off?" Cameron asked calmly.
"Yo, Jake, where'd Justin go?" Chris asked, turning to a red haired man sitting next to him.
"Some apartment to talk to Alicia. . .Alana. . .A-"
"Alonsha?" Cameron interrupted. Jacob snapped his fingers and nodded.
"Yeah, that's her name," he confirmed, "I was close enough though." Cameron rolled her eyes and suddenly lost her appetite for her pepper steak.
"Isn't that the girl you hate?" Tonya asked.
"Yeah, that bitch," Cameron mumbled, "He didn't tell him he was going there."
"Mmm. . ." Leslie grunted and poked at her chicken, "Mmm. . ."
"What?" Cameron snapped, "What are you 'Mmm'-ing about?"
"Just- you know what? I'm not even going to say it."
"No, go ahead," Cameron encouraged.
"Cam," Leslie sighed, "You can't let him keep running off to that girl every five seconds."
"They're. . . friends," Cameron said.
"You don't sound too sure about that."
"Justin said they're friends."
"If Justin said Santa existed, you'd believe him?" Leslie asked rhetorically, "That boy is playing you."
"What?" Cameron asked.
"Playing you," Leslie repeated, "You know, cheating. Fuckin' around."
"I know what it is," Cameron told her, "I also know Justin's not like that."
"All men are like that."
"Hey!" The guys whined in unison and the women laughed.
"Justin's not like all men," Cameron argued, "He's been hurt too many times to do that shit to someone else."
"Or hurt enough to do it." Leslie raised a challenging brow.
"Les, he wouldn't." Cameron began to lose her confidence every time she spoke, "He loves me."
"Don't they all?" Leslie asked rhetorically, "That's how they get you."
"He's not cheating!" Cameron yelled, "God, Les. Just stop saying that shit."
"Wha-"
"Leslie," Lydia interrupted, "Don't upset her." She placed her hand on her stomach to remind her.
"Sorry," Leslie grumbled, "Justin's a good man and he's going to be a great daddy."
"Thank you," Cameron said.
"I'm just mad because of Darien's dumbass," Leslie laughed and sympathetic smiles were thrown her way, "He loves you." Everyone nodded in agreement and went back to their pointless conversations. Cameron wasn't so sure though. Not only because of what Leslie said, but because nobody knew he broke up with her until he found out she was pregnant.
She knew that he had only proposed because of the baby. Cameron wasn't stupid. But every fiber of her being wanted to believe that he actually loved her enough to want to get married. She placed her hand on her stomach and said a silent prayer that nothing ever happened to the baby. Not only for the child itself, but also for the survival of her relationship.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
"Justin, you are such an idiot," I laughed and Justin joined me.
"What?" he asked innocently, "It's art."
"It's a paper airplane made out of a used carton," I pointed out, "That's far from art."
"This is a form of origami," Justin chuckled, trying to sound as serious as possible, "This is art."
"This," I said, taking the plane from his hands, ". . . is trash." I tossed the red and white mess into the empty brown bag on my coffee table. Justin whimpered in protest before reaching over and forking up some of my orange chicken. I watched as he stuffed the food into his mouth before placing the fork back into my bowl.
"That's the last time I bring you anything," Justin told me with his mouth full.
"Don't talk like that," I scolded, "That's nasty."
"No," Justin smiled, "This is nasty." I was stupid enough to ask what before looking at him. My stomach churned and my eyes squeezed shut, desperately trying to block the image of his chewed up food.
"You are so fuckin' foul," I whined, "Move away from me." I shoved him with my free hand as I held the bowl of food on my lap. Justin laughed and, thankfully, covered his mouth.
"You are such a baby," Justin smiled, "It's just chicken."
"Chicken that's semi-digested."
"Semi-digested?" Justin grinned, "Is that even a word?"
"Yes," I said firmly, even though I wasn't sure, "Semi- anything is a word."
"What about 'semi-banana'?" Justin chuckled, "It's part banana?" I stared at him blankly before picking at my chicken.
"Shut up," I muttered childishly. Justin laughed.
"See? Just because you put 'semi' in front of something, doesn't make it a word."
"Okay, Justin," I relented, "You're right."
"That's what I like to hear." He smiled again, his brilliant grin never ceasing to amaze me.
"Uh huh," I said dryly, "Anyways. . ."
"Yeah?" I shrugged.
"I don't know," I smiled, "I just wanted to change the subject." Justin laughed and shook his head.
"Wow," he simply stated, "Wow."
"Don't try to play me."
"How is that playing you?" Justin asked.
"You're making it sound like I'm special," I pouted.
"Like you're special?" Justin questioned and I glared in his direction.
"I know you did not come down here to get on my nerves."
"Why else would I come down here?" Justin laughed and I rolled me eyes.
"I don't know," I said sarcastically, "To spend as much time with me as humanly possible since I leave in four days."
"Well, yeah, that too," Justin smiled before draping his arm over my shoulder, "Why does it have to be Thursday?" He pouted and I put my head on his shoulder.
"Because yesterday was Wednesday," I mumbled. Justin laughed lightly and gave me a small squeeze.
"I wish we could have more time, Lon," Justin sighed.
"Me too," I whispered, feeling the sudden urge to cry. I snuggled into his warmth as we silently sat on my couch. I began to think about how much I loved him in that moment. How much I was going to miss him when I move. How much I wanted to tell him all that I was feeling.
"Alonsha, can I tell you something?" Justin asked quietly. I sat up so that I could look at him.
"Always," I said, "What's up?" He wiped the corner of his mouth and sighed.
"It's about Cameron," I mentally rolled my eyes. When isn't it about her?
"What about Cameron?" I asked, trying my best to sound interested rather than dispassionate.
"She wants to have a double wedding with Trace and Elisha." The familiar wave of panic washes over me and shake my head.
"You can't have a double wedding," I said, "That's way too soon."
"I know," Justin agreed, "And I told her that."
"And?"
"And she said fine," Justin rolled his eyes, "Now she wants to get married in July."
"That's still too soon," I told him as calmly as possible.
"I feel the same way," Justin licked his lips, "And when I told Cameron that, she freaked out and said I was never going to marry her."
"She would say that," I mumbled as I rolled my eyes.
"I know," Justin smiled weakly, "But you know something?"
"What?"
"I'm starting to think she's right," he turned his gazed to a spot on the floor, "I'm starting to think. . .I'm just not ready."
Sweet Jesus, hallelujah! If there were sweeter words. . .
"Then maybe you're not."
"Trace said the same thing," Justin informed me.
"Then you're not ready," I said, "You can't get married if you're doubting yourself."
"What am I suppose to do?" Justin asked, "Walk up to Cameron and take back my proposal?" I thought for a second.
"Yes," I said.
"Oh, yeah, that'll go well," Justin's sarcasm oozed from his mouth, "I'll just go 'Cam, honey, could I have that pretty little ring back?'"
"If that's what you feel comfortable with, then yes."
"I don't feel comfortable doing anything," Justin groaned, "Stop trying to make this seem easy."
"I'm not," I argued, "I'm trying to help."
"You wanna help?" Justin asked rhetorically, "Do me a favor and give me advice on how to make things work rather than fuck up."
"Things are going to be fucked up beyond repair if you marry someone when you obviously don't want to."
"It's not that I don't want to," Justin clarified, "I'm just not ready."
"Okay, call it whatever you want," I said, "Just tell Cameron."
"I can't," Justin whined.
"Why not?"
"Because she'll ask why I'm not ready," Justin said, "And I don't know why. Well, I do. . .I think I do. . .I don't know. . .I can't really explain it."
"Well, tell me and I'll try to put it coherently."
"No, I can't tell you," he snapped, standing up hastily. I was a bit caught off guard by his defensiveness, but even more interested in his reason why he couldn't tell me, of all people.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I mean that. . . it's complicated, okay?"
"Believe me, I know complicated," I smiled softly, "Justin, tell me."
"I. . . I can't," Justin sighed, "I want to, but it'll come out wrong."
"Try to explain it," I encouraged, "I'll tell you what I think you meant and-"
"Not wrong like that," Justin interrupted, "Wrong like. . . timing." What the hell was he talking about?
"Justin," I stood and took a step toward him. He took a step back, as if I was infected with a disease. I furrowed my brows, both confused and offended, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said, "I just. . ." He quickly licked his lips and looked around my living room. Awkward would be an understatement for his behavior.
"Look, I don't know what happened between your fake origami and now, but I don't like it." Justin's face softened and he sighed. His rigid form relaxed as he ran his hand over his head.
"Alonsha, when I proposed to Cameron the first time, I didn't have a single doubt in my mind that I wanted to be with her and only her. Baby or no baby. Regardless of what anybody thought," he paused and thought for a moment, "But she said no and you came home."
I must be going blonde because I still don't get it, "Okay?" Justin smiled softly, seemingly amused by my confusion.
"You complicated things," Justin said.
"What did I do?" I asked defensively. I couldn't believe my ears. He was beginning to sound like Cameron and her rant about how great life was before I arrived.
"Nothing, nothing," Justin assured as he moved up to cup my face in his large hands, "You were just. . . you."
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Justin's eyes stared intently into Alonsha's as she looked up at him. Confusion was still written across her face, and Justin was somewhat grateful that she didn't get it. The last thing he wanted to do was make things even more fucked up, but he had to tell her she was behind all of the chaos in his mind. Or at least give her a clue.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Alonsha asked, barely pulling him out of trance he was in.
"I don't know," he said simply, still engrossed by the beauty of her chocolate colored eyes. He saw an awkward smile spread across her lips and he was tempting to kiss her just so she could understand. . .
But he couldn't do that. Even if he was confused about where Cameron and him should go, he knew that he could never betray another human being the way he was betrayed so many times before. Yet, he found it nearly impossible to tear his eyes from her full mouth and even more impossible to finally remove his hands from her soft cheeks.
"Justin-" Alonsha began to speak softly, but Justin decided to interrupt.
"I think I should go," he said, afraid that she might've caught on.
"Oh, okay. . ." Alonsha smoothed out the crease in her t-shirt.
"I called Mike earlier, so he should be here any minute," Justin said as he began to walk over to the coat rack. He grabbed his gray pullover hoodie and slipped it on. Alonsha silently watched as he slipped on his sneakers and adjusted various items of clothing.
"Wouldn't he call if he was here?" Alonsha asked innocently. Justin looked down before glancing back at her.
"Well, yeah. . ." he mumbled.
"Then why the rush?" Alonsha asked.
"Nothing, I was just. . ." He had no idea what he was talking about, "I was just going to sit in the lobby."
"Since when do you sit in the lobby?" Justin smiled softly. She either got what he was saying and was doing a good job covering it up, or she genuinely didn't see what he was getting at. Either way, Justin wasn't going to ask any questions.
"I'll just wait up here," Justin said.
"Okay. . ." Alonsha smiled, "Do you want to watch t.v. or something?"
"Sure, whatever," Justin told her, quickly making his way over to her sofa, "Oh, and are you going to finish that?" Justin gestured toward the bowl of orange chicken and Alonsha rolled her eyes.
"I'll share," she said. Justin sucked his teeth.
"I don't want to share," he whined childishly, "I want it for myself."
"Share or you get nada," Alonsha stated firmly. Justin pouted and stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest. Alonsha laughed and sat down next to him. Justin watched as she slowly picked up the fork and retrieved a piece of chicken. She waved it around, teasing him with it, before stuffing it into her mouth. Alonsha laughed as Justin smiled and shook his head.
"You're terrible," he told her.
"No, I'm wonderful," Alonsha corrected, "Just like this chicken."
"Gimme it," Justin said, making a grab for the bowl. Alonsha quickly put it out of his reach and laughed.
"Stop it," she scolded, "Share or nada." Justin poked her side and she laughed. He took that moment to take the bowl and triumphantly hold it above his head.
"I choose nada," he sang as Alonsha wrinkled her nose.
"Fine, keep it," she huffed. Justin mocked her pout before forking up a piece of chicken.
"A gift from me to you," he said softly, placing the fork in front of her mouth. Alonsha remained silent as she ate the chicken he offered. Justin smiled and nudged her playfully.
"You better had," Alonsha told him, rolling her eyes.
"Or what?" Justin asked challengingly.
"Or I would've kicked your ass."
"Really?" Justin chuckled.
"Damn straight," Alonsha stated firmly.
"Well, you know something Miss. Daniels?" Justin placed the bowl of chicken on the table and stood tall, "I'd like to see you try." Alonsha looked him up and down before standing also.
"I ain't afraid of you," she said.
"Well, I ain't afraid of you either," Justin mocked.
"Let's do this then," Alonsha put up her fists, "Your move, Timberpond."
"You're gonna stop calling me that," Justin said while placing his fists up as well.
"Or what?"
"Or I'mma kick yo ass!" Justin suddenly tackled her, sending Alonsha into a fit of giggles as he tickled her sides.
"Justin, stop it!" she laughed.
"Make me!" He tickled her even more and she began to weakly slap his hands, "That's all you got?"
"Yes!" Alonsha answered as tears ran down her face. She could barely breathe because of all her laughter. Justin chuckled and finally stopped. Alonsha fell onto the couch and sighed heavily.
"You're weak," Justin teased with a grin. Alonsha shrugged and wiped her eyes.
"You tickled me," she whined, "That wasn't fair."
"Life's not fair," Justin told her.
"Shut up."
"You want some more?" Justin asked, wiggling his fingers. Alonsha laughed and shook her head, "That's what I thought."
"Justin," Alonsha called.
"What?"
"Don't 'what' me."
"What?" Justin stressed. Alonsha glared at him and he smiled innocently.
"Anyway," she continued, "You can go to hell."
"Really?"
"Really," Alonsha confirmed.
"Well, you know what I say to that?"
"What?"
"I say," Justin paused as if in thought, "Save me a seat."
"Always, buddy," Alonsha smiled, "Always."
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
"I can't believe this," I sighed, "Why can't you make it?"
"Because I'm in New York," Justin explained, "Cameron dragged me out here last night." I rolled my eyes as Jared continued to drive down the road.
"So you're letting me go to Philadelphia for months without even saying goodbye?" I asked in disbelief, "Justin. . ."
"Alonsha, if I could be there, I would," he said, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," I shook my head disappointedly, "Being sorry isn't going to take you to the airport."
"No, but hopefully you'll hear the sincerity and not hate me."
"I don't hate you," I assured, "I'm just. . . sad."
"Are you pouting?" Justin asked, "Don't pout."
"I'm not pouting," that much, "I'm. . . frowning."
"You're pouting," Justin sighed, "Don't pout. I can, like, see it through the phone."
"Good because you suck ass," I groaned, "You should be driving me to the airport."
"I know," Justin sighed again, as if he really cared that I was leaving for months. Years. Forever.
"Well, you know what, Justin?" I asked rhetorically, "There's no point to this conversation if you're in New York. I only called to see if you were meeting us at LAX."
"We can just talk since I'm not going to see you," Justin told me.
"I don't want to talk to you," I complained childishly, "You left the day before one of the most important, life-changing days of my life."
"I told you it wasn't me."
"Cameron's not your mother."
"She's old enough to be," Tiffany commented. I smiled softly, but shushed her.
"What did she say?" Justin asked.
"Nothing," I dismissed, "Don't try to change the subject."
"I wasn't-"
"You suck Randall," I interrupted, "You really suck ass."
"I heard that the first ten times," he said.
"Don't get an attitude with me," I pouted, "I'm not the one who left the day before their friend moves to Philadelphia for good."
"No, you're the one who left before their anniversary," Justin snapped.
"What?"
"At least I called, Alonsha," Justin spat, "I didn't go to New York and never talked to you again."
"What the hell?" I was so confused. Where did all that come from?
"Now you want to act all upset because I can't see you off?" he continued, "I said I was sorry and I would've made plans to visit you in Philly, but you just-"
"What the fuck is your problem?" I asked, "Where did that even come from?"
"Nowhere," he sighed, "I made it all up, Alonsha."
"Okay," I said calmly, "I'm stopping now before this turns into an argument."
"This is an argument," Justin growled.
"Well, I'm not arguing," I said.
"I am."
"Then argue with your damn self."
"Fine," he huffed before I heard the call end. I flipped my phone shut and stared at it, not sure of what that was.
"What happened?" Scott asked, turning around in his seat to face me.
"He hung up on me," I said, shaking my head, "I think we were arguing."
"You think?" Scott smiled awkwardly, "You were fighting or you weren't fighting. There's no in-between, Lon."
"Oh, but there is," I argued, "That phone call was proof."
"You did sound agitated," Scott shrugged.
"He's an ass," Tiffany concluded, "He'll call back and apologize." I nodded in agreement and sat back in my seat, holding my phone in the palm of my hand. I held that phone until we got to LAX. I held it through security check. I held it when I met up with Chris. I held it when I waited for my plane to board. I held it as I said goodbye to all my friends and cried. I held it as I slowly made my way on the plane. I held it through the brief conversation I had with Chris before he fell asleep. I held it when I turned it off as the plane took off. I held through my nap. I held it when we landed. Hell, I even held during our taxi ride to South Philadelphia. But I never got a call. A text. A page. . .
"Alonsha?" I slowly turned away from a spot on the taxi floor and faced Chris. He was smiling brightly and I smirked awkwardly, not really knowing what was so great.
"Yeah?" I asked after a moment of silence.
"We're here," he said, opening the door and quickly getting out. My stomach knotted up as the realization of 'here' meant the house I was going to be calling home for the rest of my sorry life. I was sad, but excited at the same time, ready to see what Philly had to offer. A million worries were running through my head as Chris handed me my suitcase as I climbed out of the car.
Would I fit in? Are the kids better or worse than LA? What were Tiff and them up to? Why is Justin not calling me? Was this really the right decision?
"I know," Chris said, coming up beside me, "Scary, isn't it?" I nodded as I slowly looked up at the three-story house before me. The brick structure looked old and worn down by the city, but sturdy. It sort of reminded me of Lynn's house even though it didn't look as warm and inviting. The closer I got to it, the bigger it seemed. I felt like it was going to swallow me whole as I walked up to the door.
Chris dug through his pockets quickly, retrieving a small silver key. I watched as he slipped it into the lock and turned it. A comforting smile spread across his face as he looked at me for confirmation. I nodded my head and he turned the knob. The door creaked open and the sound of laughter could be heard. As I stepped inside, the wooden floor creaked beneath my feet, apparently getting someone's attention. Before I knew it, a group of complete strangers came into view, some from the stairs by the door, others from opposite sides of the long hallway. I stood there, feeling more out of place and uninvited than I did before.
"Hi," a brunette emerged from the crowd, a broad smile spread across her face, "I'm Amber." I smiled too, happy that there were some nice people in this house.
"Hey, I'm Alonsha." I offered my hand and received a firm handshake.
"Alonsha?" a soft voice questioned. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who it belonged to. Especially since he was already making his way past the group he was standing behind and walking up toward me.
"Adam," I said, smiling softly, "Hey." A sigh of relief fell from his lips, and he seemed comforted by my polite greeting.
"Hey," he hugged me awkwardly as I patted his back, "How are you?"
"Good," I told him, deciding on giving the traditional response rather than the long, truthful tale of how terrible I was feeling. They'll be plenty of time for drama later. "What about you?"
"Same," Adam smiled, "It's really good to see you." I stared up into his hazel eyes and smiled as well.
"It's good to see you too."
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
Justin stared blankly at Cameron as she spun in her spring dress, her choppy blonde locks cupping her face. The smile spread across her face made her seem sweet and innocent, but Justin saw right through her facade.
She had set him up. Promising that they'd be back in LA in time to see Alonsha off. But when he was packing to leave, she cried and said she hated him for wanting to leave. So, he stayed with her, hoping Alonsha would understand. And she did, aside from the pouting and whining. Yet, Justin still managed to argue with her so he could feel better about leaving her hanging at the airport.
"Babe, what do you think?" Cameron grinned, playing with the silky material of her floral printed dress. Justin shrugged and yawned.
"Looks good," he mumbled, "Just. . . gorgeous." Cameron raised her arched brow as she placed her hands on her widening hips.
"Justin!" she whined, "You're not even looking."
"I am," Justin argued, "You look pretty, Cam. Okay?"
"No, not okay," she said, pulling the dress over her head tossing it on the floor of their hotel room, "You don't even care, do you?"
"I do care," Justin stated earnestly, watching Cameron pace back and forth in her underwear, "You don't need me to tell you how beautiful you are."
"I do need you to tell me," Cameron pouted, "I mean. . .look at me." She pinched the extra fat forming on her stomach and frowned. Justin smiled softly and stood from the beige bed. He walked over to where she was and took her hands away from her stomach.
"There's nothing wrong with you," he assured, "You're going to be a mother, Cam. There's nothing more beautiful than giving life." Cameron sniffled and Justin was surprised to see tears in her eyes.
"You're so sweet," she cried, "I love you so much." She fell against him and buried her face into his chest. Justin petted her hair and rubbed her back.
"It's okay," he cooed, "Don't cry." Cameron nodded, but continued to cry anyway. Not because of how sweet he was, but because he didn't say 'I love you too' like he normally would. She gripped his sides, holding on for dear life, and closed her eyes.
"I love you," Cameron whispered, hoping he'd respond this time.
"I know, baby," Justin said softly, "I know." Cameron whimpered and hugged him tighter.
"I need to know you love me too," Cameron grumbled, pulling away from their embrace.
"Cameron, I asked you to marry me," Justin sighed.
"So?" Cameron crossed her arms over her chest and Justin could literally feel an argument coming on.
"So. . . It should show you how much I love you," Justin explained.
"Or not."
"Fine, I love you, okay?" Justin said.
"Wow," Cameron mockingly raised her hands in praise, "Way to say it like you mean it, man."
"What do you want?" Justin questioned, "Isn't it enough that I came all the way out here to shop with you when I promised Alonsha I'd see her off?"
"Here we go with Alonsha," Cameron breathed, "I should've known she'd find her way into this conversation."
"Of course she would've," Justin sneered, "You not wanting me to see her off is why I'm in this hotel room."
"If you wanted to be with her so badly, you should've went." Cameron angrily began to place the clothes she brought from miscellaneous stores into a heaping pile on the bed.
"I should've," Justin said, "But that, of course, would've led to one big fight between you and I."
"Well, we're fighting now anyway, so you missed seeing your bitch off for no reason.”
“She’s not the bitch, Cameron,” Justin huffed. Cameron halted her actions and turned to face him.
“Then who is?” she asked, walking up to him, “Who’s the bitch, Justin?”
“I don’t have time for this,” Justin dismissed, attempting to walk around Cameron.
“No, you’ve got time,” Cameron placed her hand against his chest and shoved him back to his previous position.
“Cameron, don’t push,” Justin stated firmly.
“Who’s the bitch?” she asked again, “Tell me who the fuckin’ bitch is.”
“Cameron,” Justin grumbled, “Move out of my way.”
“No, tell me who the bitch is!” Cameron shoved Justin back again before slapping him, “Who’s the bitch? Huh? Who?”
“Cam-”
“Tell me!” she screamed, smacking him over and over again, “Tell me! Tell me now!” Justin grabbed her flying her wrists and tried to restrain her.
“Fuck off!” he yelled, pushing her to the side. He quickly made his way out of his bedroom and Cameron stayed on his heels.
“Where are you going!?!” she shouted, “Why are you running!?!” Justin continued to walked through the kitchen and into the living room, completely ignoring her, “Don’t you walk out of that door, Justin or I swear to-” She never got a chance to finish her sentence. The door had slammed in front of her face and Justin disappeared behind it.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
An hour later, Justin had made his way do to a small coffee shop he discovered during the Justified days. It had become a sort of safe haven for him whenever paparazzi were on his tail. But the hole in the wall joint now serves as his spot for mediation.
Justin was pissed. Every time his hand ran over his hot cheek, he could feel the sting of her hand. He couldn’t believe he had been smacked. More times than he’d like to admit. And for no reason. All he did was everything she asked of him. If anybody deserved to be smacked, it was Cameron. She was the one being selfish and inconsiderate. Not to mention abusive.
Justin could honestly say that was the worst argument Cameron and him had ever had. She didn't even yell when he broke up with her, let alone smack him. She had crossed the line when she hit him. Justin even got the urge to smack her back, but his mother had raised him better than that. But he was still angry. Pissed off. Upset. He had abandoned Alonsha just to get into a fight with Cameron.
Speaking of Alonsha, Justin was somewhat concerned. After their brief disagreement on the phone earlier, she hasn't contacted him. Justin figured it was because of the hectic moving and her stubborn attitude that prevented her from doing so, but he was still worried.
Should he call her? Should he go and see her?
Leaving seemed like a better choice, seeing that he wanted to be as far away from Cameron as possible. But leaving meant going back to the hotel to grab some necessities and he didn't feel like confronting her again.
"She smacked you?" Trace laughed, "Dude, smacked? Like on the face?" Justin rolled his eyes.
"No, Trace. She smacked my fuckin' ass," he spat, "What do you think?"
"Hey, it could be either one," Trace said, "Besides, don't get smart with me 'cause Cameron bitch slapped you."
"I didn't get bitch slapped, fucker," Justin snapped, "She was mad and. . .smacked me."
"Bitch slapped sounds so much better," Trace chuckled and received a glare from Justin, "C'mon, man. Lighten up!"
"She smacked me!" Justin whined, "How can I lighten up? I'm pissed as shit." Trace shrugged and took a sip of his hot coffee.
"Look, man. All I'm saying is if I was you, I'd leave. Go to Philly, hang with Lonnie and make Cameron apologize."
"Easier said than done," Justin sighed, "I have to go to the hotel and get my money and shit." He fiddled with the napkin dispenser on the small café table and stared into space.
"Then go, get your shit, and leave."
"And Cameron's just going to sit through that."
"No, but you can ignore her bitchin'," Trace smiled, "She'll be so pissed that you'll laugh, which'll piss her off even more."
"Nah, man," Justin laughed lightly, "I'm not gonna make things worse."
"Why not?" Trace complained.
"Because. . ."
"Because is not an answer."
"Because. . ." Justin thought for a moment before finally coming to a conclusion, "Fuck it, I'll do it."
"That's what I'm talking about," Trace cheered, "Make me proud."
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
". . .And this is going to be a section of the center dedicated to music and movies. There's going to be a stereo over there and a television in the room over there. So lots of noise, but the kids'll be entertained." I nodded my head and looked around the plain, light blue room I was standing it.
"Okay, so what's the task for today?" I asked.
"Well," Adam smiled and jogged over to something covered up with plastic, "We get to paint today." I cheered and he laughed as he uncovered the cans of paint.
"What are we painting?"
"The walls," he said, uncapping the cans.
"Okay," I said, looking at the four walls surrounding me, "And what exactly are we painting on them?"
"Anything music related," he explained, "CDs, music notes, song lyrics. . ."
"That sounds great and all, but I can't draw," I admitted.
"That's cool," Adam assured, "I can't even make a stick figure, so don't feel bad." I laughed lightly and walked over to where he was now sitting. I plopped down on the gray carpet and watched him uncover every can. Yellows, reds, blues, greens, and purples were revealed and I was excited to see what I could create. I never actually painted, but I guess that'll make it more interesting.
"I think I'll put up some of Justin's lyrics," I said to nobody in particular, "Maybe some John Mayer. . ."
"So, how is he anyway?" Adam asked, handing me a new brush and a tray of yellow paint.
"John Mayer?" I asked, confused by his seemingly random question. He laughed at me as he shook his head.
"No," he chuckled, "Justin." I whimpered and shrugged.
"I don't really know," I sighed, "I guess he's okay."
"You guess?"
"Yeah, I guess," I mumbled, feeling uncomfortable with talking to my now gay, ex-boyfriend about the friend I'm in love with again.
"I see," Adam cleared his throat and casually strolled over to the blank wall in front of him, "So, I guess you too aren't talking."
"What makes you say that?" I began to aimlessly play with my paintbrush, running the soft bristles over my bare forearm.
"Well, you seem uncomfortable talking to me, for one," Adam said, "And you guessed that he was okay."
"Oh." That's all I could say.
"Yeah, oh," Adam said, "Are you guys friends now or in that awkward thing you were in before?" I looked up at him, watching as he painted a black music note. I was somewhat annoyed with his interest in Justin and I, but I answered anyway.
"We're friends. . ." I mumbled, "It's just still weird."
"Why?"
"I don't know," I lied, "It just. . . is."
"There's a reason behind everything, Alonsha," Adam breathed, "If things are weird, I'm sure you know why."
"What's with all the questions?" I asked, "Is there something you want to know?" Adam halted his painting actions and stared at a spot on the wall.
"No," he finally replied, "I was just curious about you two." I shrugged and began to draw a circle with a mixture of white, black, and blue paint. As time went on, my circle formed into a CD and I smiled, satisfied with my ‘art’.
“What do you think?” I asked Adam proudly. He stepped back from the wall to observe my work from a distance. A smile crept across his face and he nodded approvingly.
“Nice,” he commented, “You should put some lyrics or notes around that.” I nodded in agreement.
“What song do you sug-”
“Alonsha!” Chris’s voice cut my question short and I turned to face him.
“What?” I asked, walking over to where he stood in the doorframe.
“You’d think moving across the country would stop your friends from coming here,” he smiled, “You’ve got a visitor.” My heart leapt with excitement, but I raised a brow in confusion. Who would be up here this soon? I had spoken to Tiffany and Allison yesterday and they didn’t mention coming by. It’s only my second day up here, so I wasn’t expecting anybody anyway.
“Who?” I finally asked.
“Starts with a timber and ends with a lake,” Chris said, already leading me down the white halls. A smile involuntarily spread across my face and I silently kicked myself.
I was suppose to be mad at him. We were still fighting, right? But if that was the case, why was he here? To apologize? To end things again because of Cameron?
Ugh, whatever. I love him too much to care right now. Knowing that I’ll be seeing him in just a few more seconds is enough to block out the questions running through my mind. Chris stopped walking and pointed across the newly furnished library area of the center. I followed his direction and my eyes landed on Justin's form. A sigh fell from my lips as I slowly walked to where he stood, flipping through a book in his hands.
"Well," I said, causing him to turn toward me, "I wasn't expecting you." Justin placed the book back on its shelf and wiped his hands on the sides of his pants.
"Well," Justin smiled, "I wasn't planning on being here." I nodded, feeling somewhat sad that he didn't plan this. I know our last conversation wasn't the best, but he could've pretended to have missed me.
"Then what are you doing here?" I asked, sounding more annoyed than I wanted to.
"I actually got into a fight with Cameron," he breathed. I rolled my eyes. This was seriously getting old.
"When aren't ya'll fighting?" I crossed my arms over my chest, "So, you came all the way to Philly to tell me that?"
"No, I came all the way to Philly to say I'm sorry," Justin licked his lips, "I was rude and unfair to you the other day. I was mad at Cameron and I took it out on you."
I nodded, "Okay."
"Okay," Justin smiled, "I guess this means we're okay."
"Of course, dumbass," I chuckled, "I hate when you get all bi-polar on me. I don't like fighting you."
"I don't like it either, but you know how I am," Justin said, "I should've seen you off."
"No, it's okay," I sighed, "Cameron's your girl. The mother of your child. I don't expect you to drop everything for me."
"Yeah, but seeing you off would've been ten times more fun than getting smacked by Cameron."
"She smacked you?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yeah," Justin answered, "But it didn't hurt. . . that much."
"Aw," I cooed, walking up to him and reaching up to caress his baby face, "Why?"
"I don't know," Justin sighed, looking down at me, "We were fighting. I said some shit. She got mad over shit and smacked the shit out of me. . ."
"I would've slapped the hell out of her if I were you."
"Oh yeah, I'm going to slap my fiancée," Justin said sarcastically, "Who happens to be a pregnant woman too."
"Yeah, well, she's not my fiancée," I chuckled, "I'll slap her up for you."
"No need," Justin assured, "Believe me, she'll be sorry on her own."
"How do you figure?" I asked. Justin smiled and swung his arm over my shoulder.
"Because you and I are going to spend a week together," Justin smiled, "Cameron-free." I smiled and nodded approvingly.
"Cameron-free is the way to be," I said, cheekily. Justin laughed and hugged me sideways.
"I couldn't agree more."
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