Page 2 of Forgotten Pieces

I lock the door behind him and go back to bed. I look up at the ceiling, glad that my last night in New York was just as shitty as the last year has been.

* * *

“I can’t believe you are leaving me,” Cameron says as she lets herself into my apartment.

I stop folding the shirts from the laundry and turn and look at her. “Well, good morning to you too.”

“It’s not fair,” she whines as she flops onto my bed right into the folded laundry.

I throw the basket of clothes off my bed and lay down next to her. “I know, Cam. But you know I can’t do this anymore.”

“But why do you have to leave? Can’t you just move to Brooklyn or something?”

I look over at her. “You really want to take the train out to Brooklyn a few times a week to see me?”

She rolls onto her side and props her elbow up to rest her head. “Okay, no. But at least it’s closer than Tennessee!”

“This is only temporary, Cam. Until I can clear my head.”

A smile covers her face as she laughs. “Did whoever you go home with last night not help clear your head?”

I moan as I roll over onto my back and cover my face with my hands.

“That bad, huh? I wish we didn’t have that stupid gala last night for work or I would have been with you, you know.”

“I know, Cam,” I mutter into my hands. “I missed you yesterday and I am more of an idiot drinking alone than when I’m with you.”

“Oh shit. What’d you do?”

Too scared to look her in the eyes, I keep my hands over my face. “I broke the cardinal rule.”

Ever since we met in college and she had a mishap sophomore year by inviting a guy over to her apartment and he proceeded to stay there the entire weekend thinking he scored a girlfriend, we came up with the rule that we never brought someone over to our respective living situations.

She gasps and I separate my fingers over my eyes to catch a glimpse of her face. “You brought someone over here?”

I nod and she flies off the bed and backs into the wall. “Please tell me I haven’t been lying on your dirty sex sheets?”

I laugh and sit up, finally uncovering my face. “Gross. I washed them. I almost washed them after I kicked him out, but I wanted to sleep.”

Cameron walks back over to the bed and sits down hesitantly. “What happened? By the fact he isn’t here, I am guessing he wasn’t a stage five clinger?”

I play with the lint on my down comforter. “No. I was so wasted. We were around the corner from here at that new club. I was closer and horny as fuck, so I drunkenly thought he should come here. Two seconds after he put his dick in me and started jackhammering away like I was a sidewalk that needed repair, I sobered up faster than I ever have and wished there were tiles on my ceiling I could have counted to make the time go by faster.”

“Damn, girl.”

“Yeah, well, when I kicked him out at four in the morning, he wasn’t very happy.”

Cameron laughs and tugs on my ponytail. “I am sure that in typical Tacoma fashion you had a few choice words.”

I shrug and turn my gaze toward the window.

“Maybe you should dye your hair blonde again. Ever since you dyed it brown, you’ve been sad.”

I meet her eyes. “Maybe it was my sadness that made me go brunette.”

Cam wraps her arms around me and holds me tightly to her. “I wish you weren’t so sad. I wish you would tell me what happened.”

I hold back tears. Cameron has been my best friend in New York. We met at freshman orientation at NYU and immediately clicked. I made fun of her Boston accent and she made fun of my southern drawl. We were both boy crazy and wild, looking for freedom in the big apple. She knows everything about me, from the heartache that encompassed my soul when I showed up in NYC to my obsession with tacos. And I know all about her need to prove to her family she is successful and her drive to outshine her perfect sister to her obsession with Dolly Parton and her inability to settle on a guy. She gives me a run for my money in that department and I can barely date a guy longer than two weeks.

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