Tamsyn Bester - Precious Consequences

“Yes,” she replies quietly. She tucks her head into my neck and starts humming ‘You are my sunshine’ as I make my way downstairs to where Hannah is waiting. Ari is uncharacteristically quiet, and I worry that my mood over the last few days is starting to wear her little heart down. All the more reason to stand up, and keep movin’ on, I tell myself silently. After I make it through today, that’s exactly what I plan on doing. My life will go back to the way it was before Cameron, it’s that simple. Or that’s what I tell myself.

“Hey Hayls,” Hannah says, giving both Ari and me a hug. She looks tired and as ready as I am to get this day over with. “You almost ready? I need to be there a little earlier to help Cam - ” Her words stop abruptly and her eyes grow sympathetic.

“It’s okay to say his name, Hannah.” No it’s not. It hurts. “I’m ready, let me just grab my purse and my coat.”

I say goodbye to my grandmother and Ari, hesitating slightly when I have to let her go. The drive to the church is quiet, and Hannah doesn’t force a conversation, so I don’t either. When we arrive, Hannah is dragged away to tend to some arbitrary detail about the catering for after the service, so I take a seat in one of the middle rows. I stare ahead, catching sight of the blown up photo of Cameron’s father. He’s smiling, and I can see where Cameron gets his roguishly good looks from. I’m willing to bet his father was just as charming and free-spirited as Cameron. A light tap on my shoulder startles me and I spin around, finding Cameron’s mother standing next to me. I jump up and before giving it a second thought I wrap my arms around her in a gentle embrace. “Thank you for coming, Hayley,” she whispers, her voice cracking.

“Of course,” I tell her. She smiles weakly at me before telling me she’d better go find Candice. Eventually everyone is seated, and as soon as the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stand up, I know Cameron is close. I turn around to find him, and when I do, it feels like the earth has dropped from beneath my feet and my lungs wrung out until I can’t breathe. He’s not alone. Rachel has one of her arms around his and she’s leaning against him. Her eyes are the first to find me and she gives me a wicked grin before putting her mask back into place. Cameron’s eyes find me next, but for the first time since we met, they’re unreadable pools of black, empty, hollow, and void of any emotion. His face is gaunt and he hasn’t shaved in days, his face covered in a darker stubble. It’s odd, because he looks hung over. Classy, I think to myself. Show up to your father's memorial service not only hung over but with a hooker on your arm, too. I’m about to laugh at my own joke when Hannah’s voice stops me.

“Hayley, sorry I left you alone…” she comes up to my side and sees Rachel and Cameron, effectively interrupting whatever she was going to say. Instead, “What the fuck?” flies out ore her mouth.

“Hannah!” I chide. “We’re in a church, and at a memorial service!”

“Yeah, and if it wasn’t Cameron’s father’s memorial service, I’d slap him silly and pull that bitch’s extensions out.”

Candice walks up to us, and as I greet her she also spots her brother, glaring at him from over my shoulder. “What the fuck?” she says, mimicking Hannah’s reaction from a minute ago.

“I know, right?” Hannah responds.

“I’m going to say something to him,” Candice starts but I grab her arm. The last thing we need at a time and place like this is drama.

“Candice, don’t. I think you should find Brett, and take a seat with your mom. It looks like they’re almost ready to start.”

Her eyes search my face, and then she nods. “Okay, but only because this isn’t the time or the place to beat my little brother's ass.”

I chuckle, the sound coming out flat. “I’ll see you after?”

“Yes.” She hugs me and then wanders off towards the front of the church where Brett is sitting with her mother.

Hannah and I take a seat, just as Noah walks past us on his way to the front, where Cameron is sitting with Rachel. Hannah scowls at Noah and he ducks his head, knowing exactly why his sister is killing him, slowly, with her eyes.

The service is beautiful and people talk about their memories of Mr. Argent. I hug Hannah to me as she cries, comforting her. I don’t cry, because I didn’t have the opportunity to know Cameron’s father. But the urge to cry is still there, even if it is for an entirely different reason. I keep it together until the service is over, and at the first opportunity, I escape to the bathroom just to catch my breath. “You can hold out, Hayls, just an hour longer,” I murmur to myself, perched on the edge of the closed toilet seat. Breathe in, breathe out. When I open the bathroom stall, Rachel is leaning against the bathroom counter, arms folded over her chest. Her fake breasts perk up, and her long over-dyed blonde extensions hang down to her waist. She must be great in the sack because I have no fucking idea what Cam sees in this bimbo, I wonder idly. I remain silent, not acknowledging her presence as I wash my hands, my head down, focusing on the flow on the water rather than the way she looks at me.

“Stay away from him,” she says, her voice impassive but still threatening.

I dry my hands, and face her. “Excuse me?’

Rachel scowls and I imagine her thick layer of make-up cracking from the movement of her muscles. “You heard me. I said, stay away from him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She rolls her eyes. “Just stop with the messages, and the calls, okay? Cameron doesn’t want you, and I’d think that by calling me during this tough time would have made it clear.”

I shake my head, swallowing the words and the sickening emotions that are threatening to take over. Keep it together, Hayls.

“ I have nothing to say to you, Rachel. If you know he doesn’t want me, then why are you here telling me to stay away?”

“Because if you don’t, I will make sure he sees that little video you have.”

I freeze, my eyes widening. “What?”

“You seriously have no idea who I am, do you?” she laughs and it’s a sadistic sound. “Oh wow,” she continues. “Kimber is going to love this.”

My head whips up at the mention of that name, a name that I haven’t heard in two years but still makes the blood in my veins turn cold.

“Kimber Allen?” I ask.

Rachel smirks. “She’s my cousin.”

Her threat doesn’t seem so harmless anymore and the thought of Cameron finding out about my history is terrifying and enough to make me physically sick.

“Are we clear?” Rachel snaps me out of my mental trip down memory lane and I feel my head bobbing up and down in a nod. I don’t want to give in to this bitch, but if I don’t, the repercussions of ignoring her threat can be far more damaging. Again, I wonder what Cameron sees in her. I mean, she must have class if she’s willing to threaten me at a memorial service of all places.

“Good.” Rachel sneers at me a beat longer before walking out of the bathroom. I feel my eyes start to burn, but biting the inside of my mouth manages to squelch it long enough for me to escape. In my haste to get away, to go home and see Ari, I forget about my coat and sneak out the church. I hug myself, feeling foolish for braving these ridiculous winter temperatures in nothing but a thin, long sleeve black pencil dress, but it’s no comparison to the inner turmoil I would have experienced had I stayed. I can’t stand the thought of Cameron and Rachel together, and even braving the snow that has started falling is more appealing. Of course I should have considered just how cold it is before I left my coat behind. My grandmother's house isn’t far, but even I’m not deluded enough to see the idiocy of this plan. I barely make it halfway up the road when I hear my name being called behind me. It has to be him. I almost roll my eyes at the cliché I now find myself living in.