In my head, I try to come up with a plan for what's next.
Take care of Ave and Libby.
Avoid Grayson Hawthorne.
Media training with Alisa.
Interviews. Oh, no.
I turn to the other side of the bed, sighing. My head hurts, which isn't any news. I've been heaving headaches for a long time.
I miss Aisha. She left earlier, and now I feel empty.
There's a knock on my door. I tell the person to come in, my head still facing the wall. I've given up on customary manners. By now, at least half the people in this house have seen me in my pyjamas.
"Hey Mills, you need anything?"
"No. Go away, Nash." I know I sound rude, harsh, but I'm so tired.
"No. You don't get to send me away, sweetheart." His facial expression changes. "Listen, I talked to some of my people." His people, meaning the people he saved, as Alisa put it once. "About the shooting. I promise that if I hear anything," Nash said, his voice low and deadly, "it would already be handled."
I feel a wave of love hit me. This is what it's like when others care for you. But I can't let him. I can't let him. I destroy every love. My mother died. I almost died. I killed... no. I can't let him. "Thank you. But I don't want you to be too hung up on this."
"You're there for everyone, but who's there for you?" Nah stands in my doorway, leaned against the frame. Suddenly it crosses me that Nash is much more than I let myself think he is.
"I don't need anyone to be there for me."
"Everyone needs someone." There, again. He's so rich of emotions he never shows. Nash Hawthorne is so much more than he shows people.
"Not me." I avoid his gaze and get up from my cozy pillows, just to have something to do. I can't sleep anyway. Nowadays, that seems to be a regular issue.
He shakes his head. "I'm here, Camille."
I halt and close my eyes. "I know." And I know that he's not trying to let it show and neither am I, but I break a little.
He gives me a cowboy smile, turns around and is about to leave. I don't want him to. I need to tell him.
"Hey, Nash? I'm really glad you're my friend."
He stops and sighs, then turns back to me. "Man, you can't say shit like that. You'll make me cry." He comes back and hugs me. It's a surprising warmth. I hold onto him, because I'm drowning. It grounds me.
Nash is arguably my closest friend here. I don't know what I'd do without him. When I got shot, he was really angry. Not with me. With Grayson, which is somehow even worse. He worries about me, and that means more to me than I let on.
"I'm sorry," I say. I don't even realise I started crying. It's humiliating and I feel the heat in my cheeks. I hate crying in front of others. "Are you okay?"
He laughs and shakes his head. "Look at you. You're the one crying and asking me if I'm okay. I am, by the way. And you don't have to apologise for feeling something. Okay?"
"Okay."
"I'm glad you're my friend too, Mills."
"You can't say shit like that, I'll start crying," I murmur. Then, in good nature, I add, "And the name's Camille."
C. R. D. - M. L. T.
What I need are my sisters. I realise that after he has left, because the room feels unnaturally big without them. It is my sanctuary from the prying eyes of the world but it's lonely.
I hear soft footsteps approaching. Looking up, I see Avery and Libby walking in, heads close together, engaged in an animated conversation. Their laughter echoes in the room, momentarily lifting the weight off my shoulders. My heart beats with every step they take towards me.
Avery plops down on the bed next to me, and Libby takes seat on the armchair across from us. I watch their expressions, like I always do. Libby's dyed her hair, an indicator that she's been texting Drake again. I don't ask her about it, though. I know she wouldn't appreciate it.
"Hey," Avery says. "We thought we'd come and keep you company. You've been spending way too much time in here alone."
Libby nods in agreement, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, it's time for some sisterly bonding. We've been neglecting that lately."
I study their faces. Avery's features are achingly familiar to my mother's, as always. A surge of gratitude and guilt washes over me. They are reaching out to me, trying to bridge the distance that I accidentally created. I'm shutting everyone out.
"I missed you," I admit. I can't bear to say more. My damned pride won't allow it.
Avery reaches over and squeezes my hand. "We've missed you too, Milly. It's not the same without you."
Libby chimes in, her voice gentler than I remember. "We know you've been going through a lot, but you don't have to face it alone. We're here for you, always."
I have been so focused on protecting them, keeping them at arm's length to shield them from the chaos that consumed my life, that I forgot they were my pillars of strength too.
"You— This means the world to me," I say. "Thank you."
"Don't worry," Libby says, her voice back to normal, "we face things together. And speaking of facing things together." She leans forwards, her phone in her hand. "Have you seen the media storms?"
I cringe and lean back. "I try to avoid my phone these days. Better for me."
I breathe shallowly. My wound is itching, but I don't want them to worry. Instead, I take my phone out.
Five messages from Xander.
Three missed calls from Alisa.
One message from Grayson.
First, I check Xander's messages. They're funny, typical him.
Hey Trouble
You should make an Instagram account
And tell people to follow me
Is good for publicity
I want followers and I'm using you
I snort. He's ridiculous, but I was already considering making an Instagram account. I want control over what I share with the media. It's my life, still. Mine.
Then I look at the message from Grayson. It's short, simple, and I feel weird. I put my phone back onto my table and sigh. I should leave the house. I've been in here for too long.
It's weird that I haven't heard from Dean in a while. I wonder what he's doing, but I'm probably better off not knowing. Who knows who he's dealing for, or threatening, or making dangerous deals with.
I've been on his end of one of those deals. I did something terrible. My past is full of regret and bitterness.
But the future will be bright. I can promise myself that. I have to. Time only goes forward.