The morning following 'the incident' started out like any other Sunday morning. I was cursing my mother for painting my room yellow. I opened my eyes to the colour of sunshine that was unbearable even on my soberest of mornings. I looked at my cell phone. Four new text messages, all from Cam.
"Wake up, Stace, we need to talk."
"Stacey, seriously, where are you?"
"Honestly, this isn't funny, you ignoring me."
"... call me. Please. It's important. We have to talk about last night."
I rubbed my eyes and read over them again. My cheeks flushed as I remembered the events of the night prior. Had I honestly told him that I was in love with him? That I wanted us to be together? It couldn't be true. Why, why had I said anything?! He had told me, he liked Erin. He had kissed Erin. He didn't like me, he liked her. There had been plenty of time for him to confess his emotions to me, and he hadn't.
It was incredibly clear that there were no feelings on his side to confess. So, I feigned ignorance. I punched in his number, and listened to the ringing. Please, please, PLEASE don't let him answer.
Sadly, the phone Gods were on his side, and he picked up after only two rings.
"Stacey? Hi... uh... hi."
"Cam, what's so important? I just woke up. What happened last night that you need to talk about?"
"You... said that thing..."
"I said what?"
"That you... you know... love me."
I tried to laugh at the accusation, but it came out hollow and forced. There was no point in hiding it. I may as well just come out and say it...
"Yeah... about that... you know what? I have to go. It didn't mean anything... really... I have to go."