Page 26 of Catching Camila

“Well, then call her. Tell her Gage needs to talk to her.” He sat back on a picnic table and splayed his arms across the tabletop. His cellphone pinged in his pocket and he drew it out. The blue light on his face made his eyes look sunken.

He looked up and his face darkened, noticing her still standing there. “You slow or something?” He knocked his knuckles on his head. “Anybody home?”

Camila couldn’t move. Heat rose up her neck. It’d been a long time since Gage had smeared chocolate on her desk in 6th grade and told everyone her family was so poor they ate dog shit for dinner. She remembered the hot tears dribbling down her face as the class snickered.

Stick and stone, mi amor. Stick and stone.

She looked down at Gage. His smug smile still hung at the corners of his mouth. “Find her yourself,” she said.

Gage dropped his jaw, his eyes suddenly finding her. “What’d you say?”

Camila gripped the trash bag tighter and thrust out her chin. “I said find her yourself.”

Gage stood up, flashing a smile that never reached his eyes. “Well, aren’t you sassy?” He took a step closer.

“You should leave.” Her body tightened. She could knee him in the groin and run, but what if he came after her?

“Get away from her,” a voice growled.

Both heads turned. Tall and broad-shouldered in his pink Lizzy’s T-shirt and spandex running shorts, John stood at the edge of the parking lot. His fists were clenched at his sides, veins on his arms popping. And his eyes were locked on Gage.

Gage took a step back. “You work here, asshole? Or do you just like pink?” He flashed his teeth again, but Camila could see the fight draining out of him. John was a foot taller and had a good fifty pounds of muscle on Gage. Gage’s eyes flicked between John and his car, parked across the lot.

Coward.

John took a step forward. “You’re still too close to her.”

“What’re those, women’s panties?” Gage snorted, nodding to John’s shorts. He stepped backwards toward his car, the keys white-knuckled in his hand.

John closed the gap and positioned himself in front of Camila. His muscles filled every inch of his pink T-shirt. He made Gage look like an underfed twelve-year-old.

“Go while you’re still able.”

Gage looked between John and Camila. “Tell Fer to have Shaun call me.” He turned and stomped to his car. The engine flared and he peeled out, the boom of his speakers thudding into the twilight.

John turned to Camila, his stiff, corded arms pulsing with anger. “Did he hurt you?” His eyes traced her for injury.

“Just my ego.” She tried to laugh, but it was hollow. “Thanks.” She looked up into his brown eyes. “You got here just in time.”

John paused and eyed Gage's tail lights. “He looked like trouble.”

“He is.” Camila wrapped her arms around herself. “Come on,” she said. “Follow me.”

They stepped around the building and stopped next to the dumpster. The smell of day-old food festering in the hot sun was overwhelming. It would cling to her long after she slung the bag in. Maybe garbage duty wasn’t such a hot idea.

She threw the bag over the lip of the dumpster and rubbed her hands on her shorts. John watched her every move as if she might break apart. “I’m okay,” she said. “Relax.” She put her hand on his arm. He was as hot as asphalt pavement on a ninety-degree day. She flicked her eyes to his face. “Are you okay?”

He nodded. “Who was that guy?” A vein on his neck throbbed.

“Just some idiot. Never mind.” She looked him over. “Have you eaten?”

He nodded.

She put a hand on her hip. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

His face softened. “Okay, no, I haven't eaten.”

“See, I knew it.” She blew out her breath and looked back toward Lizzy’s. “I gotta finish up. Will you wait?”

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