3"Mama."
I heard them talking from my bedroom. Emotionless, I thought. They spoke as though they didn't care. I suppose that was how things were in my house. I was guilty of being the same with my family members. Of course, with the exception of Van. He and I were, as he would say, "tight."
I didn't need to listen any more. I knew for a fact that Cameron would not tell my mother why he had decided to spend the summer. I expected he hadn't brought Daniella, either, because I knew she wasn't much for the rich scene. I had a good idea that Cameron based his decision to marry her not only because he loved her, but because he knew very well she was everything Mama didn't want for her son.
A slap in the face, considering Cameron had always been her favorite.
"Long time." The voice startled me. It shouldn't have, seeing as I'd heard the footsteps.
"Three years," I replied passively, not bothering to look up. "Nice to see you, Cam."
"Can't say that," he said with a chuckle. "You haven't looked at me yet."
"You know perfectly well what I mean," I smiled dryly as I glanced up at the man who was once the brother I admired most. He looked shorter than I remembered, most likely because in three years time, I'd managed to grow a few inches. He also looked more tired. Worn out.
"You haven't changed." He was trying to be conversational, I could tell. I scolded myself inwardly for being so blatantly stoic with him. He was my brother. I hadn't seen him years. I owed him the effort.
"Last time you saw me, I was thirteen," I said matter-of-factly, pushing aside my pad and pen. "I better have changed."
He studied me for a few seconds, then smiled. "Older." His smile turned into a grin. "But, you're still same old Zie. Frank, stiff and completely nonchalant."
"Yes," I agreed. "Perhaps towards you."
He just laughed. "And very formal."
"I like formal," I shot back. "Besides, what harm does a good vocabulary cause?"
"You can be typecasted as a snob, for one."
"Oh, shut up." I stood up and walked over to him, looking him directly in the eyes. "Cam. Tell me, why are you back?"
"Home sick." He shrugged, smiled.
"You're lying," I accused, harsher than I'd expected. "The truth, Cameron. Why?"
"Look Zie," he said, waving is hand as if to brush me off. "It doesn't matter."
I knew then that there was a reason. Once someone claims it doesn't matter, it obviously means it does. In fact, it means it matters more than one initially thinks. Cameron Wynter was hiding something. And I would find out what it was. Even if I had to beat it out of him.
Dinner was a casual exchange of pleasantries. "How is everything, Cameron?" "Quite well, thank you." "How is Daniella?" "Never better." "Have you planned the wedding?" "Daniella has been working on it." "Good to hear, good to hear." It was almost sickening the way my family treated each other. I hadn't realised the extent until I was the one sitting on the outside looking in.
"Any word from Tai?" my father asked.
My head snapped up at the mention of his name. I eyed Cameron as he looked up and shook his head.
"Maybe he's dead," I said, immediately regretting it. Truth was, Tai and I had never gotten along. He was the type of person a lot of people didn't get along with. I couldn't tell you why, that's just the way things were. It was the norm, something I'd never given any thought to before he moved out.
"What would make you say such a thing, Mackenzie?" my mother asked.
I didn't bother looking up from my plate. I could feel her glaring in my direction, I didn't need to look up and confirm that. I muttered that I was sorry and meant nothing by it. I wasn't lying. I was sorry, and I hadn't meant anything by it. I was just in a particularly cross mood that night.
The clock had barely struck nine that night when I finally gathered up the courage to rip open my high school diploma and see, once and for all, my overall achievement. Everything I'd devoted my life to for five straight years came down to one little boxed area.
Ninety-four. Ninety-four percent.
That's when it happened. I didn't know it at the time, but it happened then. Eight-fifty-eight. The moment my life changed.
I didn't find out until hours later. I was preoccupied with silently celebrating my victorious escape from high school. I wish I'd known, though, as everything went on below me. I was oblivious. At midnight, I didn't hear the soft talking. Looking back, I wonder why no one came to my room to inform me.
I found out at four in the morning. As the sun readied itself to peer over the horizon, the news was finally carried upstairs to wake me from my contented sleep.
"Mackenzie." It was Van's voice, sounding strained. Odd, I'd thought. He never called me Mackenzie. He never sounded the least bit stressed. "Zie, wake up."
I stirred, then opened my eyes to glare at him. "It's four, Van. Go to bed." If I'd been able to see his face clearly, I would have known that he'd been crying.
"No." He looked at me, and I could see the sadness written all over his face, despite my tiredness and the lack of light in the room. "Zie. I don't know how to tell you this.."
"Tell me so I can go back to sleep," I muttered, closing my eyes again.
"It's about Nathan and Beth," he said hesitantly. "There was a car accident.. And.."
My mind quickly did the math. Car accident plus parents equals trouble. I sat up, no longer feeling sleepy. "Are they alright?" I asked, both afraid and angry. He didn't reply, thus giving me a chance to suspect the worst. "Van! Are they okay?"
"Nathan is." He paused. "Beth... isn't." He glanced at me sympathetically. "Zie.. she died."