A Bet Gone Wrong

Chapter Forty-Eight: Open Hearts

Cameron

After Rebecca had gone to bed, I stayed in the basement for a while. I had turned on a small lamp next to the couch, and had the fireplace going. Sleeping wasn't something I was really up for at the moment, which sucked because I was going to regret it in the morning.

Instead of going to bed, I just flipped through the scrapbook again, really taking my time on each picture this time.

My cell phone was sitting beside me, and I glanced at it for a moment, debating whether or not I wanted to call my dad. He should be asleep since it's so late. My body refused to obey me though and called him anyway.

"Hello?" He asked, clearing his throat. I opened my mouth to say something, but then realized I didn't even know why I called him. "Cat got your tongue Cameron?" He asked with a light chuckle, somehow knowing I was on the other line.

I let out a breathy chuckle, and began to look through the pictures some more. "Uh yeah I guess so," I replied.

Our phone call this morning hadn't gone so well. I ended up arguing with him and my mom about my birthday and now I felt bad.

"Oh, what's up?" He asked, sounding slightly concerned. I'm not one to be up too late at night calling people. He probably thinks something crazy bad has happened, but I just missed him.

"N-Nothing," I lied. "I just called to let you know I had a good time today, and that I was sorry for being a douche earlier," I continued.

I didn't need to be in the room with him to know he was nodding his head, probably thinking about what to say next. Things were awkward between the two of us now. He wouldn't say much because he didn't like making me mad, and I wouldn't say much because I didn't want to disappoint him. The bond we had between each other has slowly begun to fade away, and it sucked...

"I'm glad to hear you had fun. What'd your friends get you?" He asked, trying to keep up conversation.

My eyes were glued to a picture of him and I on a surfboard in the sand when I was younger, and didn't know how to surf. We were posing like we were huge buff guys, flexing our arms to look cool. "Um I got some gift cards, cologne, oh and Clara got me a football signed by all the football players we like, and I also got a pair of paintball guns," I answered, forcing some enthusiasm in my voice. The gifts really were great, but I didn't want them.

"What did Rebecca get you?" He asked curiously.

I ran my free hand through my hair and sighed. "She uh made me a scrapbook," I replied. Then I turned to the next page in the scrapbook, and continued to let the memories consume me. Once my dad was dead, they'd be the only things I'd have left. Memories.

"That's cute, was it filled with pictures of the two of you?" There was a hint of humor in his voice, like he was trying to tease me, making it seem like there were pictures of her and I kissing in it.

I wanted to say yes, and let him have a good laugh, but instead I just told him the truth. "No, they were pictures of you and me from back in the day," I said.

He didn't respond too fast this time, and there was nothing but silence on his end for a few minutes. "Really? What were some of the pictures of?"

For some reason hearing how interested he was, lifted up my mood a little. "There are pictures of you teaching me how to surf, mostly ones where I'm pouting because I couldn't figure out how to do it though," I chuckled. "Some of them are of you and I after one of my football games, you took a think of nachos and put it on my head," I continued. "There are alot of your birthday cards to me in here too, from back when I was about Luke's age. Some are of us sitting on beach chair with matching sun glasses looking cool, and others are from the fall back at our old house. I remember how I could practically swim in the leaves because there were so many. I'd pretend to swim away from you because you pretended you were a shark." I rambled. "Do you remember that?" I asked him.