Roadtrip

Day Ten

"He acts like it never happened, Cameron," Samantha sniffled. 

He wrapped his arms around his hurt best friend and held her close. 

"Oh, come on, Sammy. He must be an idiot for acting like he never kissed you."

Samantha turned around so that her back was facing him and glued her gaze on her reflection in the full length mirror across her bedroom; her eyes were swollen and her cheeks were painted with a bright red color. 

"I'm ugly," she announced gripping on her green bedsheets. 

"No, you're not," he shouted shaking his face. 

She was too far from it, in his mind, actually. Her smooth golden hair and those big eyes of hers,  how could she be anything but beautiful?

"I'm gonna beat his ass."

"No! That's bad. I'm just downright ugly, I'll live with it and that's it."

He stared at him for a while and then burst into tears again. Why was he doing this? Robert looked like a nice guy and she had had feelings for him since the day they met. And now, after kissing her lips he pretended that nothing had happened. 

"Would you do that, Cammy?"

"What, kiss you and pretend nothing happened?"

"Y-Yeah."

"Hell no," he cursed loudly earning a hit on the arm. 

"Don't curse."

He smiled. It was not her pleading eyes that made him say this. He wouldn't do that to a girl like her. 

Who the hell would like to ever hurt somebody like her?

I eyed him suspiciously, my gaze switching from him to the bottle he was holding.  "You're on, Shaw," I smiled triumphantly.

"Don't get your hopes up. This is the last time I let you drink or worse,  I drink with you."

I laughed and patted his left shoulder. "Who the hell are you kidding? If you were not up to something you wouldn't give up on your single mama attitude to play 'Never have I ever' with me."

He gave me a flat look but then furrowed his eyebrows. "Not true."

"Yeah, right. You still think I have a drinking problem, Shaw. You expect me to believe you want  me to play just for fun?"

Since the exact moment I woke up drenched because of the bucket of water that was thrown at me, nothing in Cameron's behavior indicated that something had happened between us in this very motel room last night. 

At first, I seriously thought I was drawn in some wave of hallucinations and I just fantasized about the guy who used to read me bedtime stories when I was afraid of the thunderstorms. The fairly huge hickey that lay right under my shoulderblade, though, told me otherwise. 

Although unsure of my next move, I knew I had to beat him in his own fucking game.  I knew there was something he was digging up to find but I wanted my fair share of digging before giving up any kind of information.

"Come with me," I muttered grabbing his arm. 

I was feeling slightly dizzy given that the temperature of my body did not seem to change but I wanted to get out of this room. The tension around me was thick enough to suffocate me and it was actually non existant. There was an increasing chance I was going paranoid.