39. Waterlanche

thirty-nine

Cam

"So it's… over?" Dr. Burton asks. I nod, beaming at him proudly like the word "over" doesn't transform my stomach into a black hole. Dr. Burton keeps a poker face, so I don't know how to explain that without shifting his expression, he frowns. A loud clicking sound echoes through the laptop, the tip of his pen repeatedly tapping the edge of his desk. 33

"Okay," he says with a straight face, his thick lips pressed together in a flat line. "And you came to that conclusion because…"

I sip my coffee, a teaspoon of sugar dissolved into the dark liquid. It's good, actually. Sweeter.

"I became codependent on her. Attached," I say after swallowing. My fingers tangle together as I place them onto the table in front of me. It's an attempt to make myself feel more confident about the decision, but it's not really working.

The past few days have been a whirlwind. Hayden stayed over last night because I kept throwing up, which is exactly what happened when I first left Cody. The difference is, Violet and I were never together. Not in a relationship, at least. It's amazing, and awful, how similar it can feel.

Dr. Burton raises a brow, and scoots forward in his chair.

"Okay. Can you explain why you feel that way?"

I pick at the skin on my thumb, already raw from the hours of the repeated action I had been doing prior to this appointment. I sigh, having gone over this with him already.

"Well, I had that panic attack," I explain slowly. Dr. Burton nods. "And she helped me through it. And she took care of me when I got the concussion. And then there was the nightmares… Do I really have to explain all of this again?"

A sharp sound rings through the speaker again, Dr. Burton clicking his pen and scribbling something down on the notepad in front of him. I frown.

"What?"

He looks up at me. "Sorry?"

"What did you write down?" I point down at the notepad lying on his desk.

"Would you like to see it?" he asks. I cross my arms.

"No, I just want you to tell me."

He clears his throat and adjusts his glasses as he holds the notepad out at a distance.

"Client equates vulnerability with codependency." He looks up at me, and my lips turn downward.

"I do not!"

He lowers the notepad onto the desk.

"Cam, can you give me other examples of how you are codependent with Violet?"

I scoff, rolling my eyes, but I think about it for a moment.

"Yes," I say assertively. He raises his brows, encouraging me to go on. "I'm— I was dependent on her for sex."

Dr. Burton smiles, leaning forward again.

"Okay. Do you feel like that's something you could get from someone else, if you wanted to?" he asks.

"I mean, if I wanted to, sure. But I don't want to. That's what I'm trying to say."

Dr. Burton bites back a smile, and I scowl.

"What? What aren't you saying?"

He sighs.

"Cam, there's a difference between being codependent with somebody, and depending on somebody. Everyone needs to have people to depend on, whether it's friendship or work, or," he shrugs, "Consensual sex. Just because Violet helped you through an attack, just because she's there for you when you need it, that doesn't mean you are being codependent." He lets out a long sigh. "And that isn't to discourage you from ending this, not at all. If that's what you truly want, I support you. But with the information you're giving me..." He picks up his pen again, tapping it against the table. "I can't agree that it's codependency."

I frown, taking another sip of my sweet coffee.

"Then what is it?" I ask. "If it's not codependency, why do I feel like it is?"

He smiles, shaking his head.

"I think it's change, Cam. I think things were evolving, between you and Violet, and within yourself. And I think it scared you." He leans back in his chair. "I think you like to be around Violet, and that within itself is scary enough. But when you add the threat—" he takes a mini action figure off his desk, plopping it right down in the center, "of losing her, it's overwhelming. The idea that dependency is entirely unhealthy doesn't help either. So, you're trying to control the outcome of the situation, by ending it."

I listen to Dr. Burton carefully, my chest tightening when he says the word "scared". I think about the night Violet told me how she felt, and how she too said I was scared. It didn't make sense to me then. I didn't understand how I could be scared of something I didn't even want. But when Dr. Burton puts it the way he did, when he said that I'm scared because it's change, I realize that he's right. And that means Violet was right too.

No matter how irritating she can be, and no matter how hard I tried to fight it, I like being around her.

No.

I love it.

There's something so spectacular about Violet, how she's lost so much and still acts like she has everything. She's so courageous and so thoughtful. I never washed the pillow she used that night she stayed over, because it still smells like her. I got vanilla ice cream at Mountain Scoops yesterday, because I missed the taste of her lip balm. She makes me see all the amazing possibilities in The Realm. She makes me want to try new things.

I've spent the last five years running from change, sticking with even the worst people, the worst situations, because I was scared the next would just be worse. So, I don't know how it happened, really. How I fell for Violet and didn't even notice until now.

It's a silent killer, change. It has a way of creeping up on you. Not always, of course. Sometimes it's loud and sudden, like an avalanche. But then there's times like this. The snow melts slowly, trickling off the mountain almost unnoticeably. Then the trickles, the dewy drops, turn to streams. And eventually, without even realizing it, a waterfall forms, washing over the rock that was bare only months prior.

Falling for Violet was more like that. But finding out?

Finding out is an avalanche.

Tears pools in my eyes, the salt stinging as my head falls into my hands.

"So it's not like Cody?" I ask, my voice breaking. I don't need to ask it, not really. I know the truth. But I want to hear someone else say it. Someone who is less of a mess. Someone who knows what they're doing.

"Does she control you?" he asks. I shake my head. "Tell you what you can and can't do outside of a work setting?"

Well, she's bossy as fuck in bed but...

"No."

"Does she make you feel helpless, like you can't exist without her?"

"No."

"Well, then, Cam—" I look up, and he flicks the action figure over. "No. It's not like with Cody."

I drag a nervous hand down the side of my dampened cheek, wiping it over my mouth as I breathe slowly.

"What do I do?" I ask. Dr. Burton smiles.

"It's change. You let it happen."*

"Is this real?" I ask, turning the check over in my hand. It looks like a real check. Hell, it feels like a real check. But the number scrawled across the front in pen?

That can't be real.

Adrian nods their head enthusiastically, practically screaming as they barrel through their apartment with the human version of zoomies. They throw their arms around me, squeezing tightly.

"I'm going to throw up," they say.

I read the check again. It's from the Pacific Mountain Gallery of Fine Arts. From Anassia Walker.

Apparently, Adrian's piece has gained so much traction and publicity that she decided to make it a permanent feature in the museum.

For one hundred thousand dollars.

"It's all thanks to you!" they say, squeezing me tightly. "Thank you."

My stomach twists, then drops.

I'm happy for Adrian, I really am. This is their dream come true. But this isn't thanks to me. Not at all. This is all because of Violet.

I hug them back, chewing on the inside of my lip.

"You're welcome," I swallow, a dry lump forming in my throat.

"Does this mean you're going to be able to open Rise?" Hayden asks, his brows shooting to the crown of his head. Adrian bites their lip and nods excitedly. Hayden runs up to them, scooping them up and throwing them over his shoulder. He parades them around the apartment, cheering loudly. "Whoo-hoo!"

My stomach sinks lower.

"This calls for some Zabinki's!" he declares, Adrian still draped over his shoulder. He turns to Avery and me, who are still sitting on the couch.

"You guys coming? Or do you want to text me your orders?"

I don't have a real reason not to go, other than the fact that if I get into a moving vehicle with Adrian, I might vomit. I've been lying to them this whole time, about Anassia. About Violet. And now, Rise, it's going to be built on that lie.

"I'll stay with all these guys," I say, gesturing to the pups. Dawson and Major, as usual, are tussling in the middle of the floor. Pumpkin is curled up on Avery's lap, and Eloise is planted on mine. "Plus," I gesture to her, "Ellie paralysis."

Zabinski's is just long enough of a drive that I think I could have a mental breakdown and clean myself up from it before they get back. But my head snaps over to Avery when he opens his mouth.

"Yeah. Me too. I'll Venmo you?"

Hayden shakes his head.

"On me, bro. Just text me what you want."

Adrian blows me a kiss as they walk out the door, and Hayden shoots me a wink. I swallow, staring at the television in front of me even though nothing is playing. Avery sighs.

"So, you still haven't told them?"

My head snaps over to him, my brows furrowing.

"What?"

He shakes his head.

"Don't play dumb Cam. I might not know the full story, but I know enough."

My heart twists, but I try to play it cool. There's no telling what Avery thinks he knows.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say. Avery shakes his head and turns back to the black screen.

"Are you pretending you aren't fucking Violet, or are you pretending you haven't been lying to Adrian about it?"

"How did you—"

He clears his throat.

"I'm observant, Cam. More than you might think. I know you have your feelings about it, about me. But you're the same, you and me. We're observers. We see things others don't."

I scoff.

"We are nothing alike."

Avery nods his head silently, letting out a soft sigh.

"We are, in some ways. In others," he gestures to me, "not so much."

I furrow my brows at him, scowling.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A long breath slips through his lips.

"Cam," he says, adjusting his focus onto me but not quite meeting my eye. Avery doesn't make eye contact, not really. "What exactly is your problem with me? Do you actually know?"

I let out a loud scoff, turning to face him, but not enough to move Ellie.

"Yes, Avery. I know exactly what my problem with you is." He crosses his arms, enticing me to continue. I roll my eyes. "You're annoying. You say things you shouldn't, and you're always staring at people. It's off putting and just rude."

Avery nods, a small smile creeping on his face.

"Who else did you just describe?" he asks. I furrow my brows, glaring at him.

"What are you talking about?"

He blows out a long sigh, almost sounding disappointed.

"I thought you'd get it, but…" he shrugs. I stare at him, only feeling more confused. What is he talking about?

"I don't get it," I admit. He looks at me, scanning my face for—well I don't exactly know what. Avery's confusing like that. His gaze adjusts back to the TV, his fingers tapping against the sofa.

"Do you really want me to spell it out for you?" he asks. But he doesn't sound arrogant when he says it. Still, I hate that I nod.

"I mean, yeah. If there's something so obvious that I'm missing, I'd like to know what it is."

His fingers continue to dance on the pilled couch cushion, his eyes glued to the black screen in front of us.

"Everything you just listed, everything it is that you don't like about me, are things you do too."

My brows drop further, defensiveness growing in my chest. I'm not like Avery. Right?

"That's different. I—"

"Have a disorder?" he cuts in. Now, his eyes lock onto mine. It's brief, but it happens. "Yeah. Me too."

My heart sinks into my stomach, a lump forming in my throat. I shake my head. A disorder? Avery has never mentioned this before, not once. And Adrian and Hayden haven't either.

"What? But you don't—you never said anything."

He gives a subtle chuckle, then leans back into the couch.

"Yeah, well, not everyone wants to talk about it." He swallows, tilting his head back. "Did you never consider the fact that you aren't the only one in the world with struggles?"

I suck in a shaky breath. Not shaky because I'm angry. Shaky because he's right. He sighs.

"Cam, you don't like me, because you don't like those parts of yourself. And I get it, trust me. There are so many times I wish I was different. Times I wish my brain worked like everyone else's. I think the difference, though, is that I've never meant to be rude. You…" He sighs. "It's part of your personality."

My throat tightens, but I don't interrupt Avery. I listen instead, paralyzed by the unfortunate truth. He's right, and I can see it now. So many things hitting me all at once, like a million birds slamming into invisible glass.

"And I'm not saying that to hurt you. I'm saying that to inform you. I know it's a defense mechanism. I know you've been through a lot, and I can't pretend to know how it feels. But I also know that you tend to only act according to what you want. You're so observant, but still, you only see the things you want to see. The things you try to see."

I feel like he's hinting at something specific, but I don't know what.

"What do you mean?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"I can't just feed this stuff to you. You need to figure it out yourself." He sighs. "I know what this means, for your job and Violet's too. I wouldn't ever want to jeopardize that. But if you think you can't trust Adrian with that information, you're wrong. They might spill little pieces of information that they aren't supposed to. But they would never, ever do something drastic that could hurt you. And I think you're being too self-centered to see that. You're thinking about all the ‘what ifs' that could affect you, and not how it's going to affect your best friend."

Tears spill down my cheeks, listening to the words pouring from Avery's mouth. He's right, about all of it. About how we're alike, about how I'm selfish. I could have told Adrian this whole time. I just let the fear of it consume me. I put my fears first.

"You guys never responded to my texts, so we just got two ‘Binski Burgers, one with no toma—" Hayden looks up at me, his brows pressed together in a worried glance. Adrian steps in behind him, the same look taking over their face.

"Cam, what's wrong?" he asks, rushing over to sit by me. I look up at Adrian, tears streaming down my face. A choked sob escapes my throat.

"I lied," I cry. They look at me, confused, their arm pressed against my back.

"Hey, hey," they say. "It's okay."

I shake my head, and Hayden shoots Avery a bewildered look.

"It's not. I should have told you and I didn't because I was scared. But you," I sniff, "you should have known."

They press their brows together, looking me in the eye.

"Known what Cam? What are you talking about?"

I look at Avery, and he gives me a nod. I swallow.

"I didn't get you into Anassia's Gallery. Violet did."

Adrian's face relaxes, and they press their hand against my back.

"Okay," they say softly, but with confusion. "That's okay. You still helped."

I shake my head.

"She did it for me because..." My head falls into my hands. "She did it for me because we were hooking up."

Adrian's hand freezes on my back, and they suck in a breath.

"What?"

And then I tell them. I tell them all of it. That night at Monsey's, recognizing her the first day. The contract and the stone. Adrian nods silently as I sob, explaining everything that happened.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have told you sooner, and there's not—" I gasp. "There's not a valid excuse as to why I kept it from you. I told myself it was because you've told secrets before, but they were all little ones and," I sniff, wiping my eyes, "and I was just scared. But it wasn't fair to you. And I'm just sorry."

Adrian leans into me, squeezing tightly. Their curls press against my cheek, and they smell like lavender and linen.

"Cam," they say softly. "I'm not mad at you."

I sniff loudly and look up at them

"What?"

"I'm not mad at you. I understand why you were nervous to tell me. I understand how that could jeopardize your job. I know in the past I haven't always kept your secrets, and I'm sorry. Those were never my things to tell."

I shake my head, tears welling in my eyes.

"No, I'm sorry." My voice breaks, and Adrian squeezes me tightly.

After sixteen tissues and one bottle of water, we all finally settle onto the couch with our Zabinski's. Hayden turns on the television but doesn't actually press play. It's quiet, for a moment, just loud sounds of crinkling wrappers filling the air around us. But then, Adrian speaks.

"So, you gave her a rose quartz, in the shape of a heart?" they ask. I nod. "And then you told her you don't have feelings for her?"

I sigh loudly, a sad laugh slipping out.

"In my defense," I sniffle, "I thought it was true."

They shake their head.

"For someone so intelligent, you sure are blind."

Avery nods his head, and Hayden pats my shoulder gently.

"So, what are you going to do?" they ask, handing me a half-used cup of fry sauce. I dip a thin, floppy fry into it and toss it in my mouth.

"I'm going to tell her."