Frustrated, I toss my phone, leaving Noah’s text unanswered. I don’t want to deal with him right now.

I strip out of my clothes and climb between the cool sheets. The same feeling of emptiness washes over me, like it always does when I sleep at home. Only this time, I feel like I might have something else I care about. And I hate myself for it.

By the time morning rolls around, I haven’t slept a wink. I’ve checked my phone at least a thousand times, and contemplated calling Hayley at least a thousand more. In the end, I convinced myself that it’s better this way, for us to stay friends. But I don’t even know if that is a possibility. Maybe that’s better too. I don’t need her complicating my life and she doesn’t need me fucking up hers. It doesn’t stop me from wondering how if she’s okay though, and if her daughter is going to be alright.

I scrub my face, feeling exhausted from tossing and turning all night. I climb out of bed but instead of hitting the shower I pack my swimming bag. Glancing at my watch I see it’s only seven a.m. I have three hours until my first class and there’s only one place I want to kill that time. It’s the only place where I know I can forget about life for a while. I throw on a pair of shorts and polo shirt and grab my bag. I’m on autopilot when I drive to the swimming pool, and when I change into my gear. I don’t even register that the water is freezing. I just swim. And I keep swimming until my legs start to cramp and my lungs threaten to self-combust between my ribs. But when I hoist myself out of the water and sit on the edge, catching my breath, I’m unable to ignore the one feeling I wish I could stomp out.

Guilt.

** ** ** ** **

The rest of my week passes in a similar fashion. Wake up, swim, go to class, and come home. I pretend that I’m fine, that I don’t care about Hayley or the fact that I hurt her. I pretend that it doesn’t bother me that I haven’t seen her in a few days. But in reality, I’ve been looking for her everywhere. She stopped taking Hannah’s calls and every time Hannah has stopped by their house, Hayley’s grandmother says she’s not there. Noah asked me what is going on and since I’ve already acted like a complete jerk, I figured lying to one more person wouldn’t hurt. I tell him I lost interest, and Hayley didn’t take it well, which I guess is only half true. He reacted the way I expected him to - he shrugged and said, “That’s too bad Cam, I bet she would’ve been great in bed.” It was the first time I wanted to punch my best friend in the face and knock him the fuck out. And then I felt like knocking myself out for being such a hypocrite. I was no better than he was. I had every intention of getting Hayley into my bed, even if that meant waiting a few weeks. But somewhere along the line, it was as if a switch was flipped and wanting her for that felt…wrong. Because deep down I know she’s more than a quick fuck or one nightstand.

All this pretending is making me cranky and Noah and Hannah have been trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. Instead of talking to someone about it, I take my frustration and guilt out on my body, in the water. The only person who doesn’t complain is Coach. My times so far have improved and because of all the extra training I’ve been putting in, we’ve been doing really well in our swim meets. I’m completely wiped out by the time I get home but that also suits me. It saves me from having the conversation with my mother that is two years overdue and the source of my internal misery.

It’s been an entire week since I last saw Hayley and I’m walking out of the Cafeteria when I spot Hannah coming from the opposite direction. She looks pissed and her angry eyes are directed straight at me. “This can’t be good,” I mutter to myself. I stop and wait for her to reach me. But that was very stupid because she’s not pissed, she’s in a flat out rage and I seem to be the cause.

“What it wrong with you?” she half-yells, not giving a flying fuck that we’re in public.

“Hi Hannah, it’s so nice to see you. I’m great, thanks for asking,” I reply sarcastically. What the hell could she be so mad about?

“Don’t get smart with me you douchebag,” she snaps. Her black hair is a mess and it looks like she literally just rolled out of bed. The slippers on her feet are a dead giveaway. I resist the urge to laugh at her disheveled state. I always avoid provoking Hannah when she’s in a mood like this.

“What is wrong with you?” I ask, suddenly irritated. “Are you on your period or something?”

The way Hannah’s face reddens and her eyes bulge are an indication that I have clearly said the wrong thing. Her hands fist at her sides and I watch as she struggles to reign on her anger.

“How could you, Cameron?” she asks angrily.

My irritation escalates. Why can women never say what they mean, instead of expecting us to guess all the damn time? “How could I what Hannah?”

“I always knew you could be an asshole, and I tried not to hold that against you after all the shit you’ve been through. But you stooped the lowest you ever have Cam. I can’t believe you.”

Before I can stop myself, I yell, “What the fuck are you talking about Hannah? I can’t read your fucking mind woman! Spell it the fuck out for me, in English!”

“You told Hayley you wouldn’t have asked her out if you knew about her daughter!” she screams. Her anger gets the better of her and she allows a few tears to slip down her cheeks. She wipes them away furiously as I stare at her.

Lowering my voice, I ask, “What did you expect me to do, Hannah? I don’t need complications in my life, you know that. I don’t do relationships, and I sure as hell don’t do ‘moms’ either.”

“You could’ve handled it so much better, Cameron. You had no reason to say any of those things to her, especially not at the damn hospital!”

“Well when did you expect me to say it? After I’d had sex with her?”

Hannah snorts. “We both know it was about more than sex with Hayley.”

I bristle, crossing my arms over my chest. “What is that supposed to mean? Of course it was just about the sex, it always is!”

“Then tell me honestly, in the last two months that you’ve become friends with Hayley, how many times did you think about Rachel? Or having sex with someone else, huh?”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I retort.

“The hell it doesn’t. Just admit that you care about her, Cameron.”

And there it is. The crux of my problem. The very thought that has kept me awake every night since I left Hayley in that emergency room. I look down, afraid that Hannah will see everything I’m trying so hard to hide written all over my face.

My voice is barely above a whisper when I reply, “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Hannah probes.

“Because!” I yell again. “I destroy everyone I give a fuck about!”

Hannah’s face drops as my words register. She knows what I mean; she’s one of the few people cognizant of what haunts me.

“Cam,” she breathes, taking a step closer to me. “You can’t keep living your life this way because of one mistake you made two years ago. It was an accident, and your mom and Candice don’t hold you responsible.”

“But they should,” I reply. “It was my fault. It’s my fault my dad is…”