Chapter 9: Isabelle: I'm Not Perfect Enough for You?

"Hey, sorry about today. I'm just really stressed. We're cool, okay? So, don't worry. Let's hang out this weekend."

I pause with my fork mid-air. Did Hannah say something to Andrea? I don't know if I should be relieved or angry that Hannah went to Andrea behind my back. This is exactly what we always do, though, so I don't dwell on it any longer. Instead, I type out a text response. I get it. No worries. I'm cool with hanging this weekend. Lmk.

As soon as I send it, I press the phone icon at the top of the screen and call her. Part of me expects it to go straight to voicemail, but she actually answers. "Hey, what's up?"

"Andrea. Hey. I didn't think you'd answer." I drop my fork, causing sauce to splatter on me and the table. I grab my napkin and wipe it up.

"I got your message. Is something wrong?" She sounds like she's far away.

"No." I take a drink. "I'm just...are you okay? You were acting kinda weird this morning. Did I do something to make you mad?"

"No. I'm just really stressed," she says much too quickly, almost like she's been rehearsing her answer.

Yeah, she said that, but I can't shake the feeling there's something else bugging her. "Are you sure that's all?"

"Yeah. You know how I am when school starts." She yawns. Every year since we started high school, Andrea has borderline freaked out during the first week. Last year, she stressed herself out so much, she forgot her schedule and ended up going to the wrong class. She was embarrassed for days. On the other end of the phone, she laughs. "I don't know why I get like this. It's not like I haven't been at this school for years. I know what to do and where everything is."

"For real." I push away from the table, prop my foot on the edge of the chair, and rest my chin on my knee. "So, did you hear about the new guy?"

"Yes." The word rushes out on a whoosh of breath. "Tall. Wears a leather jacket. Eyes to die for." She lets out a dramatic sigh.

"That's the one. I have a couple of classes with him."

"Lucky." Andrea giggles.

"He's kind of a jerk."

"So, don't talk to him, then. Just look at him. That's fun, right?"

"Andrea!" I gasp. All my worries from earlier disappear the longer we talk, and half an hour later when we end the call, my face is warm and probably flushed, and my cheeks hurt from laughing so much. First Grayson made me laugh. Now, Andrea. Maybe there's hope for a normal life, after all.

My food is cold now, but I don't care. I move to take care of it when I get a text from Cam. Hey, want to go get ice cream?

Ice cream does sound good, but I have no idea when Dad will be home, and if Mom wakes up and realizes I'm not here, she'll freak out. I reply: would love to but i can't. Sorry.

Cam: bummer. Everything ok?

No, Cam, everything isn't okay. It hasn't been for months now, but I can't tell him that. I can't tell anyone. Instead, I do the one thing I know I shouldn't, the one thing I've become way too good at, the thing that would end my relationship with Cam in an instant if he ever finds out - I lie.

Everything's fine. Dad's working late so mom and I are hanging out. Girls' night. Since Brandon died, she likes to have me close. I add a smiling emoji and hit send.

We never did girls' nights before, but it sounds good, right? The part about keeping me close is true. At least, it was before Mom really started drinking. Now, I stay close because I have to, because someone needs to be around to make sure she doesn't drink herself to death. Lord knows my father isn't that person.

I scrape my uneaten food into the trash and then wash my plate. After fixing a plate of leftovers for Dad and setting it in the microwave, I grab my bag and trudge upstairs to start my homework.

Halfway through a website on the best Spanish speaking countries to visit, I hear a car outside. I check the time on my phone - 8:21 PM. It's too early for Dad to be home, which means we have a visitor. Panic wraps around my chest. Who is here? I scramble off my bed and rush down the stairs. I reach the front door, yank it open, and step onto the porch just as Cam climbs out of his car. What is he doing here?

"Hey," I say and walk down to greet him. "Is everything okay?"

He shoves his hands into his pockets. "Can we talk for a minute?"

My stomach knots. This can't be good. "Um, yeah. Mind if we sit in your car? My mom fell asleep on the couch, and I don't want to wake her." It isn't a total lie. Mom is sleeping.

"Sure."

We get into his car, and I fidget with my hands. The silence stretches for an uncomfortable amount of time. I'm just about to ask him what's going on when he finally speaks.

"Today was weird," he says more to himself than to me.

I tilt my head. "Weird how?"

"I don't know." He shrugs. "Just...everything. We don't have any classes together. Then there's that new guy... He seems like a jerk."

"Grayson?" I ask with disbelief. I mean, I'm not fond of him myself, but hearing Cam talk about Grayson like this rubs me the wrong way. It's not like Grayson tries to run everyone over with his motorcycle.

Cam gives me a dirty look, like he can't believe I know Grayson's name or that I just said it. "Yeah, him."

I don't know what to say. Do Cam and Grayson have classes together? Did something happen between them that I don't know about? They didn't exactly hit it off at lunch, but that can't be the reason Cam dislikes him so much.

"And..." He sighs. "I don't know. You were acting different today."

I raise my brows in surprise. "I was acting different?" I sound like a parrot with the way I'm repeating what he says, but I'm having trouble wrapping my mind around his words.

He nods.

"You were acting differently, too, you know." I slouch in the seat and cross my arms. "I barely saw you between classes, and when I did, you basically ignored me."

"I know." He hangs his head. "I've had a lot on my mind today."

A nagging in the back of my mind is telling me to get out of his car and run back inside, that whatever is about to happen next is going to be really bad. But I ignore my instincts and ask, "Like what?"

"I think we should break up." His shoulders heave with the effort of his words.

I stare at him. Did he say we should break up? No. That's not what he said. "You want to break up?" I ask slowly. There's no way I heard him correctly.

"Yes." He sighs. "I'm sorry, Isabelle. I really like you, but we're both seniors, and we're probably going to end up going to different colleges... It's best if we just end this now."

Tears sting my eyes. I try to blink them away, but it's useless. "I don't understand. I thought..." We've talked about what will happen after high school, and I thought we agreed to try a long distance relationship. "What about everything we're supposed to do together this year? Homecoming. Prom. Senior trip. Graduation." My voice rises with each word, and I force a calming breath.

"We can still do those things. We'll just do them as friends." He looks at me with sad eyes. "No different than if you were doing them with Vick or Hannah."

My jaw ticks with barely suppressed anger. "It's very different, Cam."

"This is what I mean. You're different, Isabelle. The way you talked to Brittany today. Just your entire attitude. It's like I don't know you anymore."

He's kidding, right? I don't even know what to say to that. I was defending myself against Brittany - it's not like I went out of my way to attack her or anything.

"I know you've been through so much these past few months with your brother's death, and I'm sure losing someone like that changes a person, but..."

I sit, stunned, as tears stream down my face. I can't believe Cam is breaking up with me. Worse, he's using my brother's death as some sort of excuse for doing so.

"I can't be with someone who isn't - "

"Who isn't what?" I snap between sobs. "Perfect?"

"That's not what I was going to say." He refuses to look at me, and I'm not sure if that makes this easier or harder. "Look, even though we're not going out anymore, I'm still here for you, okay?"

I don't respond.

"So is my family," he continues, either oblivious or ignoring the fact that I'm crying. "Please promise me you'll keep coming to church."

Does he truly believe I'll stop going to church simply because he's breaking up with me? I can't even look at him right now. "I promise," I whisper. Then I push open the door and run back inside.