As soon as Avery's gone I walk straight across the room, falling into bed utterly exhausted.
"Aren't you going to change?" Cameron snorts, flicking on the light switch.
"No. I'm more comfortable like this."
"Suit yourself," he responds, sounding uninvested as he proceeds to rummage through Avery's clothes.
His earlier comment keeps running through my head. What did he mean he wasn't making any promises? Was that a joke? Avery told us not to, so we're not going to…right? I don't really get the vibe that he's interested in me anyway. I don't think I'm his type, especially not after seeing Jackson who…honestly looked a lot like Cameron.
They're both classically good looking. I'm not. I can't even tell if I'm attractive, all I know is that I'm not very conventional-looking. Maybe I'm just average. Either way, I'm not on his level. So, there's no way he'd be interested in me like that. It wouldn't make any sense. Besides, he has a ton of options. People are always hanging off of him. He could have any guy he wanted, I'm sure.
He wouldn't want me. I'm awkward. I never know what to say. I'm nothing special. I have an ugly body.
Cameron finds a pair of plain, grey sweatpants and unceremoniously shrugs out of his jeans before putting them on. I look away and close my eyes. I feel weird being in Avery's bed. I hear a click and open my eyes slightly, seeing that Cameron turned the lights off. It's dark and takes a moment for me to adjust, but I feel Cameron climbing into bed next to me.
I perch myself up on an elbow and reach for the cup of water I set on her nightstand, taking a sip before lying back down.
I wish I could brush my teeth. My mouth's going to feel and taste so gross in the morning.
I hope I don't snore.
What if I snore?
What if I move around in my sleep too much?
I'm probably going to annoy him.
I roll over so I'm facing Cameron and see through the dim light that he's lying on his back staring up at the ceiling. His breathing's almost silent and I wonder what he's thinking about. I sometimes hold my breath when I get anxious. Is he still stuck on what happened at the party?
"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask again, hoping he's not bothered by my persistence. I can't help it. He seems really on edge.
Cameron lets out an agitated sigh. "I'm fine," he reiterates. "That just sucked, yeah?"
"Yeah," I murmur.
He's quiet again and I feel pressured to keep the conversation going.
"Avery mentioned that guy was your ex," I whisper. "Did you guys break up recently?"
Cameron scoffs. "Not even!" he exclaims. "Try six years ago!"
"Oh…wow. That's a while ago."
"I know," he seethes. "I don't know what he's so hung up on. Whatever it is, he needs to get over it and stop fucking embarrassing me."
He sounds mad. I wish Jackson hadn't shown up. I feel like things were actually going okay until that point. I didn't make myself look stupid. I stayed in control for the most part. I drank a bit too much, but I didn't puke. I don't think Cameron and Avery even realized how drunk I got.
"Did you guys date for a long time?" I ask.
"Like two years."
"It didn't end well?"
I might be pushing my luck, but I can't help myself.
"I guess not," Cameron snorts. "He was crying and shit. It was so lame."
"So, you broke up with him?" I venture.
"Is it that obvious?" he says disparagingly, rolling onto his side so that he's facing me. "We were young. Jackson was stupid to get so attached."
"Wow," I say under my breath. I'm so out of my depth here. I know nothing about dating. I don't have any advice. I've never had my heart broken and I don't think I've broken anyone else's either.
"Must be nice not having to deal with crazy exes, eh, Mr. Easy Breezy?" he chuckles.
Jesus Christ. I press my face into the pillow, feeling embarrassed.
"I didn't mean to tell you that," I say but it comes out muffled.
"Aw, don't get all shy," he coos. "It's pretty impressive really. I didn't expect that from you."
"Most people would just say it's gross," I turn my head towards him.
"Well, they're boring," Cameron puckers his lips. "So, how the hell did you sleep with so many people anyway?"
"Dunno. Just happened."
"Something like that doesn't just happen," he insists. "Where'd you meet all these guys?"
I close my eyes and sigh. "Various places, I guess…"
Cameron makes a sound of acknowledgment and I can tell he's urging me to continue. The question is… do I want to? These little details get so screwed up. There's no way I can tell him these things without sounding out of my damn mind.
"These guys I told you about who would buy me alcohol…" I start. "The guys I met online… the guys who were friends with my dad. I'd… let them all sleep with me."
The words come out so awkwardly I almost can't believe I'm telling him these things. It's probably because I'm drunk. I know I'll feel bad about it tomorrow, but right now I'm going to try not to.
Some of the men were nice, I guess… and for me, that was as good as any other reason to sleep with them. I wanted attention. I wanted affection. I wanted a distraction. I wanted a lot of things. Now I don't, but I'm sure the feeling will come back sooner or later and I'll start doing stupid things all over again.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" Cameron exclaims along with a strained laugh. "Are you joking?"
I shake my head. Of course that's the reaction he'd have. Ugh. I shouldn't have told him. He's going to judge me. It was bad enough for him to know how many people, let alone where they all came from.
"I mean, that's fine," he says quickly. "Guess you like what you like, yeah?"
I didn't like it though. I didn't feel anything, or if I did it was a sense of relief that only lasted a little while. Then everything was terrible again.
"Don't get all weird about it," Cameron says, probably sensing how awkward I'm feeling. "I couldn't care less."
"Okay," I say flatly. I'm really uncomfortable. Why the hell can't I shut up tonight? I'm making myself look so loose. Maybe I am loose, but I don't want people to know. Especially not a guy like Cameron. He says it's fine, but I can tell it's not. I'm younger than him and I've been with more than twice as many people.
"So, is that your type?" he asks. "Older guys?"
Gross. That makes me feel even worse.
"No," I say bitterly. "I don't know what my type is."
Maybe I do like older guys though. They don't have to be that old, but they do have to be older than me. I don't think about it that much. I've never been with someone my own age, though. It's always been with someone older. Sometimes older by a few years, sometimes older by...well, a lot.
"Really?" he sounds surprised.
"I just like who I like," I say simply.
Not that I actually cared for any of the guys I've let screw me.
"Hm, all right, that's cool."
"Um, so...what's your type?" I ask him.
"Guys who take care of themselves, I guess," he answers indifferently. "You know, like, physically."
Yeah, dude, I get it. Thanks. You mean guys who have hot bodies. This is just a nicer way of saying it.
"Like Jackson?" I wonder.
"Yeah, like Jackson if he was less of a psycho. Jackson was my first boyfriend."
"Oh wow. Have you dated anyone since then?"
"Why? You wanna see pics?" Cameron lets out a laugh. "I'll show you if you want. I've gone on one or two dates with a few people but haven't really dated anyone."
"Uh, sure," I agree.
He pulls out his phone and starts flipping through until he finds what he's looking for.
"This is Mark," he says, flashing the bright screen at me. "We had drinks in December but I haven't contacted him since."
I roll over and grab my glasses off the bedside table before propping myself up with my elbow to check out the picture. This guy has medium-length brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and a really strong jawline. He looks pretty different from Jackson, he still totally fits my idea of what Cameron likes.
"Why haven't you contacted him?" I decide to ask.
"He was boring," Cameron states simply.
"Oh," is all I respond with.
I want to ask him what he means, but I don't. I feel like I wouldn't like his answer.
Cameron keeps flipping until he finds another photo. "This is Justin. He was boring, too."
The list goes on and on. All the guys are banging. They all look so different from me. I'm small. I'm not masculine. I'm kind of a beanpole. I don't know if I really like anything about myself and if I do, I'm not sure what it is.
"They're all… hot," I say.
"Well, yeah," he responds with a snort.
Of course they are. Cameron probably wouldn't even look twice at someone he thought was ugly.
"Do you have any photos of the guys you hooked up with?" he asks suddenly.
I feel my face get hot. "Not really," I stammer. "I don't think they really have like…social media."
To be honest, I didn't even know half of their names, or if I did I don't remember them now. Sometimes I was too drunk. Sometimes I just didn't care.
Cameron cackles at that. "What, they're too old for Facebook?"
"Maybe…" I say vaguely. "I didn't really care to keep in contact."
Some of them probably are too old for Facebook. There's also no way I want Cameron seeing pictures of the types of guys I used to get with. I know he'd think they were gross and make fun of me. He'd probably think I was even more disgusting than he already does.
"Well, I guess that makes two of us," he laughs. "I don't care about staying in contact with people either. I just want them to like the photos I post."
I nod my head against the pillow, but I don't get it because I wouldn't even want that much from any of the men I've been with. In fact, if any of them somehow found my Instagram, I would probably delete my whole account.
They'd probably try to proposition me, and being the person I am, I'd probably just say fine. I really don't want to be doing shit like that again. Moving gave me the fresh start I needed and I want to forget the state I was in when I left.
Cameron continues to stare off into the darkness. God, I wish he'd say something.
"It's a good thing you ditched those guys," he spits out after an uncomfortably long stretch of silence. "You're way too good for a bunch of nasty old fuckers, yeah?"
"I don't know about that," I mumble. "People accept the treatment they think they deserve."
I hear him scoff. "Okay, well, you deserve better. Don't put yourself in those stupid situations anymore."
That just makes me feel bad. I know he's trying to be nice, but it isn't working and he just makes me feel so, so awful. I don't even know why. It makes me uncomfortable. I want him to stop talking.
I roll over onto my back, staring up at the ceiling and as far away from him as I possibly can.
I don't want to be here. I want to be in my own bed. It's too hard for me to sleep in beds that aren't my own.
"Okay," is all I say.
"Seriously."
"Okay," I repeat.
I turn to my other side, grabbing the water from Avery's nightstand, taking another sip of it. I hope I don't feel messed up in the morning. I want to go home as soon as I can. As soon as it's light outside.
Cameron doesn't try to say anything else to me. I think he can tell I'm tired and want to be left alone, so after not too long he readjusts and turns his back to me too.
Ugh. I hope he's not offended.
Who am I kidding? He probably is. I'd be offended. He's just trying to relate to me and I keep shutting him down. This is why I've never had a relationship. This is why I can't keep friends.
"Goodnight," I whisper quietly, trying to make amends. "Thanks for inviting me out."
"No problem, man," he mumbles back, sounding like his face is buried in the pillow.
I decide to leave it at that. I can't imagine digging myself a deeper hole than I'm already in.