Bad Things

24. Confrontation

"You ready?" Niall's out-of-breath voice came from behind her. He stopped at her side and glanced at the doors. Several more students rushed around them, turning to give them both dirty looks for standing right in the center of the walkway.

Camila stared ahead, everything in her screaming NO!

She wasn't ready. She would probably never be ready.

More than anything, she wanted to go back to the beginning of winter break, when in the moments after Shawn had hung up the phone with his biological father, they'd laid down together, arms, legs, and breaths entangled. Both too emotionally spent for anything more than sleep. They'd stayed there for hours, just holding one another in the silence. There'd been comfort inside those four walls, inside the cocoon of their arms, with just the two of them and their hurt and disappointment. Despite the epic destruction of their lives around them, right there, together, they'd felt nothing less than safe. Secure. And right now, Camila could use that again. She could use that safety, that security, that absence of anything and anyone else but them.

Camila's hand wrapped around the cool, plastic outer of the cell phone in her pocket, her fingers itching to pull it out and call him. Talking to him always made her feel better, calmer, and she needed that calm so badly she could almost taste it.

But no, she couldn't, not now. Shawn had his own stuff to deal with that morning. Camila could just imagine what he was going through, how everyone would stare at him after all the news that had broken as of late.

Her grip loosened and her phone fell back into the deepest crevice of her coat.

After school, she told herself, you can talk to him after school.

"Mila?" Niall's voice made her jump, and she closed her eyes. "You ready to go inside?"

She felt his hand brush hers and she jerked away, opening her lids and looking over to him, finally. His brow was creased, hurt lacing the blue eyes beneath his glasses.

"I'm sorry," she said, swallowing hard against the fear rising in her throat. "But you probably shouldn't touch me."

"Why?"

"Because I don't ..." Camila brushed her hand over her stomach. "I don't want people thinking that this is because of you." She glanced up at him once more. "People know we ... we dated before, and ... I don't want your name being associated with any of this, Niall."

"Would that embarrass you? If people thought it was mine?"

"Of course it would."

"Wow. Ego burst—no—ego shatter."

"I didn't mean it like that," Camila said, swiping back several strands of hair that kept blowing into her eyes. "I just meant ... he's not yours. And I would never want to let anyone else think he was. Not only would it be horrible for you, but also it would be disrespectful to Shawn. I mean, look at all the stuff he's had to go through because of this ... because he's taking responsibility for what we did. I couldn't let even the rumor of someone else being the father make light of that. Does that make sense?" Niall shrugged, and Camila sighed. "Besides, I've embarrassed and hurt enough people with this whole thing. I don't need to add you to it too."