Page 44 of His Team

At this point, I don’t even care about the money. My father can keep the fucking trust. It’s not like I’m going to miss it.

I don’t mind working for my own. However, at this point, I don’t think I’m going to get to walk away no matter what I want. I fucking hate my life.

“I should fake my death,” I mutter and punch the couch.

I need to get out of here and get some fresh air. It’s like everything is suffocating me. The loneliness, the demands, my thoughts.

I’m eighteen. I should be enjoying my life, not dreading my future with each day that passes. I stand and stomp my way into my room. Tearing off my pajamas, I jump into the shower.

The warm spray does wonders, but it’s not enough. This feeling of despair won’t wash away. I can’t believe this is my life.

“Come on, Maribel. You can figure this out. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

I shut the water off as determination fills me. It’s time to come up with a plan. I will get the last say on my life.

I return to my room and throw on some clothes to make a trip to the store. I could use some ice cream and cookies to help me think.

Construction boots on my feet and my favorite black jeans on my legs, I’m all set to head out. I toss on my jacket and hat, then grab my small bag and leave. My stomach grumbles on my way out, so I decide to get some Chinese while I’m at it.

I make the trip to grab my food first. I’m grateful when I arrive and I’m able to place my order quickly. Once I have my order in tow, I make my way to the supermarket.

I’m staring at the ice cream when I get this feeling and turn. A gasp leaves my lips as I find Cameron standing with a scowl on his face as he looks into the freezer before him.

He turns to look in my direction and I can see the sadness in his eyes. He also looks like he might have been crying at some point. My feet are moving toward him without my permission.

“Hey, are you all right?”

He shakes his head no as he swallows hard. I note the bag of Chinese in his hand and smile. We think a lot alike.

I lift my bag to show him. “I’ve got dinner for one. Pretty sorry, right?”

He lifts his bag to show me. “No, I have the same. Just deciding on which flavor will fuck my stomach up once I scarf all this shit down.”

“I was going to go with the vanilla bean since they don’t have eggnog. That or rum raisin.”

“If I buy you one of each, would you hang with me?”

“Your girlfriend isn’t going to have an issue with that?”

“Amina,” he pauses and clears his throat. “Maribel, Kay and I weren’t together when we were hanging out.”

“My name is Amina.”

“No, I’m serious. We were on a break, and I liked you. Kay and I?—”

“No, Cam. Amina reallyismy name. It’s my middle name. Maribel Amina Jones is my full name. I never lied. It’s just?—”

“Complicated,” he finishes for me.

“Yeah, complicated.”

“I miss my friend. It’s been a long fucked-up day. You want to come to my place, and we can clear things up on both our ends?”

I nod. “I think that would be cool.”

I’ve missed him and our talks. I could use a friend right now more than he could ever know. With a smile, he grabs a few pints of ice cream from the brand he was staring at and we head to the register.

This is the lightest I’ve felt in months. I probably shouldn’t open myself up so easily, but this is Cam. This is the safe feeling he brings out of me.

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