Silence ✯ cad

Chapter 10

Odette's POV

Me and Cameron were at his place, watching some old horror movie from the 70's, although I could tell he wasn't very attentive. He would constantly be looking at his phone, texting and laughing. He ignored me every time I tried speaking to him and would hide away his phone.

"Who is it? Nash?" I asked him quietly. He pulled his phone away and turned serious again, looking at me without a hint of emotion in his eye.

"No. It's no one." He answered bluntly. But it couldn't be no one - it has been 'no one' for the past 3 weeks. He got up and went around the corner, into his room with his phone directly in his hands, slamming the door shut. We haven't had any time to hang out because something came up - as always, and it was 'urgent' - as always. He was always doing the same thing around Nash and Kat, and all the other guys.

He walked back out of his room, his phone shut off and in his pocket, and a serious expression on his face. He no longer acted goofy or silly, or happy when he was around me. He was always serious and never wanted to come near me or have any sort of physical contact in public - or in private for that matter.

"Hey, uh. Look - some thing came up and I think-"

"I should go home, because it's important and you're probably going to call me tomorrow to do something, 'or whatever'." I looked at him when I finished speaking and he didn't seem to be affected at all.

"So you're not m-"

"Mad? Nope. Why would I be mad? I'll just go now so you can get ready." I got up and left, closing the door after myself. He never bothered to kiss me when I left or hug me or say goodbye at the least, and if he ever did, it was rushed and quick.

He had been acting rude constantly whenever I was around him. If I tried speaking to him, he would snap at me, or if I tried to hug him or kiss me, he would push me off. I was too much of a bother to him. I was angered, sad, frustrated - any other emotion relating to those described perfectly how hurt I was. The only way I knew to get rid of those feelings was to numb everything else in your body and hope your mind ends up just as fucked. And there was only one person that I knew who could help me with that.

She was still working at the time, and I knew that because I had memorized her schedule a long while ago to know when I could call her. In that moment, I didn't care - I was too stressed about Cameron and it wasn't a good outcome when my stress and anxiety mixed. So I slowly dialed Ashley's number and waited for her to pick up. I was in my car, whimpering and trying to keep my phone in my shaky hands.

"Hey baby, what are you doing?" Ashley's voice rung out through the phone speaker.

"A-Ash? Ashley? I need your help." I wheezed and heard her laugh at how shaky my voice was.

"Aw, baby. God damn it, fuck off before I break your balls. I'm off business. You're always getting hurt so easy, aren't you? Look, how 'bout you and I get some drinks and trash that little mind of yours? I'll meet you at the club, the one on the corner. Love you!" Before I could answer her, she hung up the phone leaving me alone for the next hour at the least.

I got in my house, and as usual, the lights were off and there was nobody home. There weren't any skimpy outfits in my closet, because, well I don't need them. So instead I put on the shortest shorts I could find and some crop top from Stella's room that only covered my chest - it was the most I would be willing to show.

I got out of my room and went to the garage, jumping into my black Porsche. The drive there was silent and full of needless thoughts. Ashley knew I wasn't a big fan of drinking because every time I ended up drunk, I turned into either 1. An angry, emotional, destructive wreck or 2. A slutty lesbian that wants to make out with strippers who's boobs are bigger than my head.

As soon as I pulled up to the club, there was music blasting, people grinding against each other and dancing everywhere, strippers flashing their ta-tas and rubbing themselves on all the married men drinking expensive drinks. Of course, as soon as I spotted Ashley, she pulled me straight to the bar. I couldn't tell how many shots she made me drink, all I knew was that after the eight one, I was downing them all on my own. One thing happened after another, and soon I was holding on to an empty vodka bottle, surrounded by at least 30 shot glasses.

Then, somehow, I ended up on the dance floor. I lost Ash, and I had no clue who I was with but at that time my mind was such a mess that I didn't care. Every thing was so blurry, the floor seemed to be moving and I couldn't walk straight.

All I wanted to make it all stop - to go back to Cameron's apartment and not call Ashley and go home to try to talk to Cam about what happened that night. But thinking about that now, I wouldn't take any of it back.

And God, do I hate the reason why.